Down-Sizing

Because I lack the ability to keep up, I am returning to just posting on one blog and not having a separate just for China. So refer to my blog "kate" for further updates. Cheers.

Why China?

The other night after a long run, I took a short detour to the coast. I call it a coast when actually it is only a narrow straight separating the China mainland and Hong Kong. Minus the fishy smell that accompanies many of China's waterfronts, its quite nice. Its quiet and dark; teenage couples walk shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, giggling; older married couples walk in silence hands behind their backs; babies in assless pants waddle away from their parents and coo at the waves and the moon; people sit on benches staring deadly ahead into the water, imagination says they are contemplating the great mysteries of the world, but reality is plainly visible in the lines on their faces, their hands, their darkened skin, worry, not contemplation flashes in their eyes.

And no description of the Shatuojiao coast would be complete without reference to the great former soviet ship docked there; the big concrete pillars informing us of her permanent anchorage here, the ridiculous flags, the randomness of Minsk is disguised by the darkness. Its invasive tourist qualities fade, and what is left is just the sound of the waves hitting its sides. Towards the end of the boardwalk, at the edge of the shipping port, an older woman with silver hair coming down to the center of her back in little wisps, is singing tones at the top of her lungs into the sea. As I approach she stops and stares at me; I expect to see embarrassment in her face only because that is how I would have probably felt, but instead her face seems to say that she a has secret that I had come dangerously close to discovering. I turn away from the sea, the coast, the old woman; as I fade into the darkened street I again hear the long mournful tones of the old woman's secret echoing out to sea. Imagination says she is singing to a deceased love, telling him to wait only awhile longer on the beaches of the after-world; and I cannot think of a better reality.

When I was fifteen I read Don Quixote. A teacher passing by me in the corner of the library reading, asked if I thought it was alright for Quixote, for people to ignore reality to live in their imaginations. I was stunned; throughout the book I had believed that Quixote's world was reality, and the characters that could not see this world had fallen prey to propaganda, stereotypes, rules, conformity that masked what was truly there. People saw windmills because they were told that was what was there, Quixote lived without the masks without those ‘informing’ him, therefore he could see what was really there. After the teacher had walked away, I couldn't read Quixote any other way than a nut case that imagined things.

When I was twenty I made a life plan, what I wanted to accomplish at what time in my life; Undergrad, graduate, architect, man, firm, family, private practice, retirement. The next year I was working on my senior design project, I was trying to redesign a slum in Mumbai; from the quiet corner in my studio I focused on ‘all’ the problems, drainage, location, infrastructure; I read everything ever written on the slums; I came up with a plan of attack. But looking over my work my professor told me that he thought I was missing something.

"What" I asked.
He pointed to a spot in my diagram, “here” he said.
"What, the wind turbines?” I asked.
"One moment.” 10 minutes later he returned with a library book, set it on my desk and said, “you are seeing wind turbines, and missing the integrity, the reality of whats already there.” He turned and walked away. I opened the book, it was Don Quixote.

'Life plan’ has me in my last year of grad school; today I am in China listening to the old lady sing.

The Weekend

Hanging out with my contact teacher and his daughter, Sofia. So adorable...

Monopoly - Chinese Edition.

Early on...

Much, much later... estimate 3 hours later. Niko's face explains it all. Could not finish the game, but Jeff probably won.

It's a Beautiful Day in this Neighborhood... Yantian.

Shenzhen is a city of about 12 million people living in an area of 780 square miles. To put that into perspective... Minneapolis/ St. Paul metro area has a population of about 3.2 million living in 6,000 square miles. But in the Yantian district of Shenzhen, where I live, you don't notice the density as much; it has a very suburbia type feel but with enough character and activity to not let it be a negative aspect.

My neighborhood, 沙头角 pronounced Sha tou jiao, is the Yantian district center - administrative wise not the geographical center. To the north and northwest of Shatoujiao are mountains, to direct west is the border with Hong Kong province, to the south, south east is the coastline and to the east is Shenzhen's largest shipping port. While this makes for a variety of exciting activities it makes it nearly impossible to find running routes in any one direction.

Minsk World is a theme park in Shatoujiao designed around a huge former Soviet "aircraft carrier". (In quotations because it is unclear /debated if it is truly an aircraft carrier). The carrier can be toured for 120 RMB and apparently it's various decks, living quarters and armaments are set up as exhibits. And the staff is dressed in military uniforms and put musical performances. I have yet to explore this wonder.

Hiking and various parks in my neighborhood.

Rockstars...

So it took me forever to begin this thing and now I officially suck at it; Hainan is going to have to wait until I feel like remembering... until then...

My kids are rockstars. My objective for coming to China as a teacher was as a means to an end; I wanted to travel, I needed a year away from school, but with the $_ _,_ _ _ amount of money I stilled owed for my undergrad it would not be possible without a job of sorts. Teaching seemed like an 'easy' in. Well I now understand that although 'easy' may not be the best word for the job, I am surprised at how much I am enjoying it.

I am teaching 4 classes each of grades 2-4; and one class each of grade 1, 5, and 6. But my grade 3's, are my favorite, 5 and 6 are a close second, my grade 4's are pretty much all monsters, and my 1 and 2's are adorable, but the only sentences they kind of understand are: What is your name? and How are you? (which I don't think really counts because the only answer they know is 'Fine, and you?' )

Out of the SEZ...

October 1st marks the National Day of the People’s Republic of China, and is celebrated throughout China much like we celebrate the Fourth of July, festivities, fireworks, concerts, parades, etc. Schools are out for the entire week and accordingly I did not have to work. For this holiday, a few of my friends (all other foreign teachers) and I (ten in all) decided to head further south to the ‘tropical’ island of Hainan, following perhaps the last hot days of summer.
Located in the South China Sea, Hainan is the southernmost province of China; it is the smallest province but largest island fully governed by the PRC (Taiwan is larger, but Taiwan does exercise some levels of autonomy). In ancient China Hainan was known as the ‘end of the world,’ having only spent under a week there I can agree. I can imagine the ‘end of the world’ as a paradise, and having visited Hainan, it can be paradise – long, quiet beaches, mountains, amazing seafood, friendly people. But at times during the week, the ‘end of the world’ narrative spoke more to its negative connotations, the difficulties, snags, problems that arose, the hell.

Monday, September 29, half of our group took a short train ride to Guangzhou, a city of about 8.5 million, people was like you might expect, crowded. We arrived hungry. So following a difficult check-in at the hostel and maneuvering through the vulture-like private vans and taxis offering to take us anywhere, anywhere for a 100 yuan, that is. We finally located a bus that seemed to be headed towards our intended dinner spot: The Italian Restaurant. Now I have grown quite accustomed to Chinese food, in its flavors and eccentricities, but the idea of cheese and real bread had my full attention. And the Italian Restaurant did not disappoint. Owned and operated by a chef straight from Milan, it was the first truly legit western food I have had here in China; we ordered an all you can eat and drink buffet. From there we moved to a nearby bar called the Cave.

The Cave is not unlike most Chinese bars, although the atmosphere had a chill, laid-back feel, the bar itself was completely decorated in red and blasted every single Britney Spear’s song (pre-meltdown) you can think of from its speakers. After an hour or so of playing dice trying either to drown Brittney out or belting out the lyrics we could remember from our days of adolescence; we were just about getting up to leave, when a DJ came onto the floor, along with a scantily clad woman shimming and dancing about. Odd. Even more so when the next song came on and the woman produced a yellow python, wrapped it around her and continued dancing. It was quite astonishing how that snake was able to hold on.

The next day we began the real journey; a 15 hour train ride to Sanya, Hainan.