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A story about the stories: To beat a really tired horse, China is a really really different place. I'm grateful for the
twenty-four hours of travel because it provides a buffer between the two. It's probably possible to reconcile the two
worlds and the people who are able to do this are probably well-rounded, self-actualized people. Or maybe it's better not
to think about it too much. I've hated expanding about identity and culture and heritage BECAUSE IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL OK? Not
a Chinese just like not a gay or a Jew. Everything else become obliterated by that all emcompassing qualifier. Not seeing race
or culture or sexuality is fine. Until there's an actual confrontation that's so out of the ordinary that any refusal to think
about things that need thinking about comes back and bites people in the buttocks. Going back to China with a Canadian attitude
would be one of these confrontations.
So I'm thinking about it, and rewriting the notes I jotted about day to day adventures. And it got too hard to continue after
being in Canada a few days. So then I started doing stuff to avoid writing and not enjoying any of them. In any case, I
couldn't do what I wanted to do properly with the weight of unfinished notes. But now that I've finally finished (hup hup),
bring on the Mario Party jigsaw tea's.
It doesn't matter if no one actually reads this. The writing process was more of a release than anything art worthy.
Or anything worthy. There it is. It begins on our last day in Xian, an ancient capital in western China my dad
and I went for tourist-y reasons. And then goes backwards to the beginning and forwards to the end. Thanks for staying this
long, even.
In Xian:
Night 10 and the Day that Followed
- We are the last customers in a seafood hotpot restaurant. Not quite as awkward and embarrassing as I would have thought.
Even if all of the serving staff began to cluster around our table. Dad is being stupid since they ordered a bottle of
superhighalcoholcontent rice wine.
- This is followed by a sojourn atop the city wall (circa Ming dynasty, most complete in China/World?) Pretty good signage
about "Tohy Blair." Dad takes many pretty lantern fotos. There is an exhibit about the Amazing Chinese Skills in Weaponary
and Military Might Dating Back to the Ming Dynasty!. There is an article up at the Globe and Mail about the inferiority
complex that China has. The writer notes how remembrances about the sufferings of the last few centuries (imperialist powers
and brought-upon-civil) are about spite and We Will Not Be Humiliated Again! rather than about the humanity of it. About how
people were actually hurt and the pain but The Shame Brought to Mother China. I'm exaggerating a bit, but that's exactly how
it is. And it cheapens the realness of what happens, turning into a mound of revolting nationalist propaganda tool. Pacifists
are met with scorn in China.
- Back at the ranch, I finally get to uplink while Dad does some sort of Ancient Chinese Massage/ Exploration Of Masseuss
Culture! shindig. Found out lots of creepy stuff about cyber surveillance (see the freakout here
and have trouble falling asleep as a result. The idea of police silently breaking down hotel doors doesn't do wonders for
the forty winking.
- On the last day in Xian, dad and I finally ditch the chauffeur business and walk to Drum Tower from the hotel. Cue thirty
minutes of skirting super crowded yet only weekday streets. We went browsing in a foreign language bookstore and those things
are always neat.
- Before the Drum Tower we mail the post cards and I realize far too late that (international) stamps are huge. Excellent;
there is more crytic stamp-cover letters to riddle through.
- Drum Tower not so impressive (exhibit of drums followed by exhibit of Ming dynasty furniture) but it's nice and windy at
the top and I finish one of the books from the foreign bookstore place. It's a bilingual comic about James Joyce Made Easy.
I know. I got another called Satre Made Easy.
- Next/last stop: Mosque. It was quiet. And there were bicycles packed (leaned against walls) everywhere which I really
like. There is also direct link stereo's from the prayer hall (which infidels are not allowed to enter) to everywhere else
in the compound, I'm really developing a taste for religious chants of all sorts. Around the mosque, it's all
alley way merchants where I managed to bargain down Mao's Little Red Book to twenty RMD from 30. I was going for fifteen
before buying but Dad got really angry and hustled us on the way. We had to double back when I realized that I hadn't gotten
my cousins any souvenirs. T-shirts, after much deliberation, it was.
- Ditching chauffeur part II: On the return to the hotel, the time got really tight but I refused the idea of cabbing. So
we had to run back to the hotel. Only the people on street volume had increased by 50 percent since the morning. Dad was
super pissed at my... inflexibility? But I mean, now we have that wonderful memory of running back. If I am any more poseur
I'd insert some tagline about roughing it, or living down and out..
- On the way to the airport we stop at more tombs, including a museum from excavations of a (pre-unified China) king's tomb.
This was really neat, similar to the terracotta soldiers only they aren't to scale. About 80 cm at the most. The other
fantastic part was they also had women warriors in rank (main distinguishing feature: plumper cheeks). All the clay people
had individual silk clothing (since rotted) and wooden arms (ditto)and wooden horses (for the horsemen).
- At the airport bookstore, from "Cool English Phrases": "She has trouble opening out to others." and "to pick at people."
Many other gems but I was without writing utensils and no longer remember.
- Flight delay of three hours. No explanations. And then lights kept blinking out on the airplane. Should have taken the train should
have taken the train was the mantra.
Night 9 and the Day that Followed
- This marks the 4th day we are driven around by army people, quasi CEO's and government people. Taxes folks.
This is where taxes go. Salaries and grants and the days off driving foreigners to various sights and sounds of Xian.
- We run into the first Canadian flag-backpacks at the Shaanxi Historical Museum. Did not work up the nerve to talk to
them.
- The Tang Paradise Palace is the collected tourist traps of architecture that look vaguely of past dynasties. It's one of
the stupider things. Like Pioneer Villages without the education cover. An amusement park without rides. Just concrete gold-
painted photo op after another. There are also various dance shows and music. ("A grand ceremony full of wonderlands and
poetic attractions") And movies shown on misted water complete with pryotechniques. projections. on water. jets. streams.
of continuous water. for half an hour. a night. like holographic projections. mind = kaput.
Night 8 and the Day that Followed
- Finished reading weepy saga--sorrows of the world etc. etc. I could become a professional lamenter. And people can pay me
to mourn at funerals. Just like the Egyptians.
- Can you say you've had pumpkin dumplings?
- Empty palace fakeries. All peeling concrete and boarded up store fronts. I think the manmade cement lake is leaking. Dad
and I got driven around as the sole passengers on a dragon bus, and then a dragon boat. We watched a traditional Tang dance
performance where the other 4 audience members played musical camera by posing in front of the stage as the dancers twirled
on. I'm not quite sure why I was ashamed for them. (audiences, not dancers)
- Hours of super bumpy road later, we enter a museum. There's a mound, which I climb and vantage-point from. Later I
find out all these mounds are burial ones. From the earlier dynasties. Officials and such. And so I've been standing on top of
bod y/ies without realizing. How dopey. And later: I really like how the dead are so close to the living and fertile. From the highway,
we see fields and sporadic mounds and commerative cypress trees. Bodies are traditionally cremated and placed in a black
wooden box which rots quickly and ashes to ashes to fertile ground and crops growing cycles and all. I'd like to be cremated
when I die.
- There's a rhyme that goes "Southern lands learned folk, Northern soil generals. Shaanxi's yellow earth buries emperors." It sounds loads better in Chinese.
- Shaanxi used to be under a prehistoric sea. There are many hills around here, but they aren't of rock composition, but
soil and somewhat soft sediment. We visit another emperor's tomb at the top of one such hill. On the way up, there are
holes -- where people traditionally lived. I guess many still do, but the ones we pass are mostly abandoned. And at the
top, it's easy to imagine everything underwater: the landscape still looks like trenches and continental shelves and I
haven't seen geography like this anywhere before.
- At the unopen-to-the-public-tomb-that's-still-under-renovations-and-excavations, my dad is annoyed at my insistence of
following "no picture" signs. He picks up a few road side stones instead. (in retaliation?) I think we were allowed passed
the main road because we paid some people hush money.
- We get hounded up old ladies pushing incense at fa men se, a buddhist landmark of great importance. Salespeople from
LaSenza girl's got nothing on these ladies. They were chasing us! We ended up forced into buying 9 bundles. 15 RMB,
approximately $2.00 Canadian.
- I talk to monks from Henan: No, my hair did not grow like this colour. No, that duck poking out of my bag is not real;
it's a stuffed toy.
- Looms are wonderful things. The thread goes in a device called the Horse Head which gets tossed back and forth. I am
the proud owner of a pair of cloth shoes. The soles are knotted layers of fabric and paste (glue?). All shoes were made like
this in China. First the many pieces of scrap fabric and cut and sewn together, with a sort of paste spread between sheets.
A waxy thread is then used to knot together the sole in a compact sole shape. Mom says she used to enjoy knotting the soles.
Night 7 and the Day that Followed
- Had big two table banquet style dinner with all sots of people we don't know. All officials and CEO's. Including a
touristry department guy who chides us for not mentioning his name and getting into places for free. (Chinese taxes at
work again, ladies and folks) The attendant passes everyone wine and such. I get to escape to witness the wondrous musical
fountain. The fountain is a square (as in Tiananmen, town, knight's) with several elevations and water sprouts. Nightly
at 7 and 9, choreagraphed jets of water come out of the sprouts, lit by lights near the sprouts. All accompanied by music.
(another rendition of that perennial Chinese favourite Auld Lang Syne, ladies and gentlemen). An automated announcer
forbids frolic amoungst the water. Guess what goes on? Stupid half naked guy practicing kung fu (??) and tag (???) with
his friends.
- Anran has a story where in China one steps off the curb only afer noting how expensive are the cars (yielding to pedestrians
does not exist) since cheaper cars are more likely to slow down and allow passersby to pass, having a smaller chance of
avoiding troubler should it hit people. I have another rule of thumb to add: license plates. Indicate lots. Army,
civilian, government official. An uncle-in-law once removed knows people in Xian so we are getting chauffered around in
army licensed vehicles and other sorts of fancy plates. No tolls. Going the wrong way on one way streets. Being waved
through a red light, speeding tickets. Adding fossils and fuels. It's all part of the fun, isn't it all? Chinese traffic
officers live an average of 40 years, I think.
- Today, we (Dad and I) are being driven around by an army friend of a friend of said uncle. As model Chinamen he smokes
nonstop and tosses ash out the driver window (on me, out back with the window open. Note: half lit cigarette butts hurt.
Like truth.)
- Terracotta warrior excursion. Guides come at 30 RMB which translates to a bit under $5 with the exchange rate. She wears
pointy high heels and speaks very fast. The clay people are half underground mostly excavated. And there are so many
foreigners (I should talk eh?). Probably the most I've seen in China. I tell a guy he's not supposed to use the flash
(as in camera, floods, Jordan) right beside a sign (that had the correct grammar for once.) Many Germans in Xian.
- Mausoleum of uniter king. 40 RMB to climb a hill. We skip the water tile exhibition. Worst signage yet. And this is
the guy who has acres of stuff and all the clay people and famed rivers of mercury refined in his booby-trapt tomb honour.
- Lunch bill comes to 215 RMB. Friendly army driver guy goes ballastic. Uses (work?)permits to argue it down to 150 RMB.
It gets ugly. Very ugly.
- Bath gardens of various kings and concubines complete with hotsprings. We use a "hot spring fountain" (charge: 0.50 RMB
-> $0.08 Cnd) and realize too late that the water is probably cycled and repumped out.
- Banpo Matriarchal Clan excavation Site (neolithic people of the yellow river basin, back when it was humid, instead of
the present semi-arid): main exhibits closed for renovations after lightining strike. But. Matriarchal my ass. there is
no mention anywhere about this fact beside the site name plate by the ticket purchasing booths. And maybe as an excuse for
naked women figuarines popping up in odd places. Yes, booby borders on the roof tiles of a recreated concrete Banpo
'dwelling hut.' Otherwise, it all "Banpomen were ingenious" and "what great pottery makers these men were!" Paraphrased.
Night 6 and the Day that Followed
- Overnight train = lights out at 22:00. In the morning the scenery has changed from rice patties to hills with exposed
levels and holey dwellings. I read most of the way: another weepy saga of vicissitudes in racially charged America.
- Shaanxi dialect is like singing. the climate is closer to various Canadian ones.
- Greater Goose Pagoda has seven stories and a watch guard on each one. It is a major Buddhist point - a returning gathering
of Monk Tonsun from his pilrimage as told in "Journey To the West." Immortalized in the TV series of the same name on perennial
repeats in China since the early nineties.
- Lesser Goose Pagoda presents another sect fifty years late.
- Xian has a specialty cider: Apple Vinegar. The people at lunch says it's a 'diet drink.' What they mean is that it's a
diuretic. Guess how I found out. Made note to avoid this drink if possible in future travelling situations.
- Bell Tower incident: there's a demonstration of Ming Dynasty musical instruments. Two rows of comfy chairs are by tables
with menus and tiny "consumer region" signs. They are filled by non consumers(customers). The show begins and an attendant
tries to unoccupy the seats. People refuse to leave. She taps the menus and work on offenders one by one. The older
'cadres' are the most angry. Two foreigners and their guides relent first. My theory is they might not have wanted to
cause a fuss being slightly leery of still-slightly-Orwellian-governments, but also because it wasn't a big deal without the
revolution histories. You see: China calls itself a socialist country ("Communism will be realized one day, comrades!"
"Workers of the World Unite! -- direct translation from Chinese: landless (those without property) peoples of the world
unite!) Private property didn't exist 20 years ago. And now purchasing power rules all. Somewhere, people must feel
betrayed. Shit man. They belived. Cult-like, zombie. But they believed in sharing. In not being second class citizens
just because you were a bit poorer. In the possibility of a utopic future where everyone was equal. Don't know about the
different part. But certainly equal. And in a place with kings and peasants and overlords and fiefdoms that belief was
worth something.
- Forest of the steles: bare feet & paper rubbings.
- Here, Xian is always called "the beginning of the silk road." I think 'one of the two end points.' It's all relative,
don't you think?
- Return to hotel shows 27 missed calls on the charging cellphone. Guess who forgot to tell mom we arrived safely.
In Nanjing:
Night 4 and the Day that Followed
- Second night in Nanjing. We went to the (very un) pedestrian Yunan street, home of spicy foods and counterfeit DVD's.
I discuss philosophies with 3rd uncle. He enjoys the purchase of goods. Not any goods. Those with the right aesthetic
pop culture appeal. He's Boho as the commercials slot people as. A few more love beads and do away with the Hard Rock
Cafe paraphernalia and he'll be all set. Good times.
- Took over half an hour to hail cab and met openly anarchist taxi driver: "Fucking Hu [current prime minister]. I'd bite
off a chunk of his leg if I could. Drive into fucking Hu. Executition of course, but it'll be worth it." Taxi drivers are
taxed about 7000 RMB per month. Taxes towards the army rides we got, say. He doesn't believe in socialism or sharing or
any stupid textbook utopia's that got sold to him in school but turned out to mean shit all in the real world. (As a
comparison, my grandma gets about 600 RMB of pension a month and my grandpa 900 RMB - accountants both. My other grandpa
about 1000 RMB - high school principal.) Considering how contradictory state rhetoric and real life is, I'd get turned off
of 'socialism' as well. People like the taxi driver dream of America, even while hating it. Political definitions outside
of China mean nothing within China. I'd even say it's like anarchy with business and markets and non-regulation insurance
and stock, but where's the liberterian press eh? Where are the civil rights? When privacy ceases to exist, it seems
tantamount to protect it in places where it's still considered a right. This is why I don't want governments or googles
reading my emails or tracking my movements or cyber footprints. The 'if you've done nothing wrong, there's nothing to fear'
reason sounds hollow after places with this mantra defines everything from advocating free press to homosexuality as 'wrong.'
- Return to Jintan with early morning bus. I go over to play with Liuyi and her friend. I get her the 5th Harry Potter book.
They lunch at KFC. Where middle aged whiskered folk follow over tables and try to ask which school I attend. They claim
to be from a television studio in Nanjing...seeking out cultural talents. Right.
- In the afternoon I overslept for Grandma's 70th birthday banquet. I was all cranky when everyone else was leaving and refused
to stop sleeping...so they left me and I was supposed to meet them at the restaurant. Only I didn't, so an uncle had to come
back, wake me up, and drive me there...terribly rude of me. I really had no excuses. I love family gatherings. I hate it when
they have to be banquets.
Night 3 and the Day that Followed
- We dinner with the father of a Dalhousie student who stayed with us when visitng. Lots of alcohol consumption; no more than
normal, probably. Doesn't mean I have to like it. Repeat. Most university exams are over by now. As a result, many drunken
students there, with their parties and self brought drinks. Fact: at dining establishments, customers are allowed
to bring their own drinks. Since store bought cola/sprite/fruit punch is usually less expensive than the restaurant version,
that's what most people do.
- It's pretty late when we get back. We're staying with my dad's youngest brother. He just got married about a year ago and
it was the first time I got to meet my aunt. They also moved into an new apartment, one that my cousin hasn't been to yet. It's
sort of weird that I, being from far away, got to see it before she did, being from about a hundred kiometres away. We got into
very flustered discussion about sleeping arrangements. Air conditioning in China isn't central. There was an air conditioned
room, and a fan room. Seeing as how I hate air conditioning, I petitioned for the fan room where I'd sleep with Dad. Didn't
go over well. Because of that whole guest preferential treatment fuss. It was doubly worse since I'd be sleeping with my aunt
in the cooler room and strident refusal would seem like I wasn't comfortable around her (not the case). Ended up with air
conditioning.
- My aunt and uncle work in the travel/services industry. He's a lecturer at a college and my aunt works in a some sort of city
sponsored five star hotel. They keep really strange hours. And never manage to eat together, except on Sunday's. This was how
we ended up bumming around at a supermarket, about noon, looking for breakfast. Uncle took to calling Dad 'the canadian
vegetable farmer' (again, much catchier in Chinese) after he kept gawking at everything in the supermarket. It was like
Loblawsplus. Or a LoblawsnWalmart in one. Clothing, school supplies, hardware, frozen foods, onsite bakeries and all. After
breakfasting, we bummed around some more helping my uncle make lunch.
- Nanjing is also one of the four ancient capitals, like Xian, only the touristry people didn't do a good job of preservation.
There's mostly nothing left, except for segments of walls and a few stone bases for pillers that made up the imperial palace.
- My grandpa, while living with my uncle in Nanjing, spent his days doing very interesting things. Example: picking up plastic
bottles around the city to return to the recycling depot for money. He made three or four thousand dollars as part time bottle
collector in the last few years. A lot of bicycling and city exploring as well. The point being, he didn't exactly dress the spiffiest.
Maybe more farmer than elderly cadre. Either way, he was barred from entry to the apartments once. Most residential districts
in China are a bit like walled communities. There are gates and watch people. Who watch for farmer people who don't belong, I guess.
Grandpa got enormously angry and righteous and spieled and lectured and was let in with heartfelt apologies. My grandpa's really
good at 'dressdowns.' Fascinating to watch, but awful to be at the receiving end.
Night 2 and the Day that Followed
- I get to spend the night at Liuyi's. She one of my actual cousins, rather than daughter of aunt twice removed of great uncle
or something like that in English. (in the Chinese genealogy vernacular, cousins refer to everyone of your generation no matter
how convulated the aunt/uncle/removed tags are). We have this game of pinching each other in turns. Going gentle or tough depending
on how the other's pinching. And the joke is to say: That didn't hurt at all. Very comfortable! each time with the other
person carefully noting facial expressions. I always 'win' the hand squeezing because my hands are bigger and I'm slightly better
at maintaining a pocker face. It's sort of like visual uncle. I shudder to think what might have happened had I had siblings
around all the time.
- After all sorts of ugliness involving chauffeurs and my refusal and Dad's oh are you going to offer us a ride? really. You'll
have to pull strings? hmmm. We finally managed to get bus tickets to Nanjing. Martial Arts movies involving the Comeback Kid
are huge on Chinese busses. The plot: small guy from country with ahxome martial arts skills from kungfu master/farmwork/braving
the elements while doing farmwork goes to the city to earn money for the village/escape his loved one's death/avenge a family
member and gets involved in prolonged fighting schemes (boxing, wrestling, prizefighting gambling circles) and is viciously
beaten again and again (inserts lots of bloody graphics, slowmo head snapping back's, echo-y thumps of bodies) by a 100% heartless
villainy villain that's stupid and brutal and sadistic. Eventually stuff happens and the little guy is fighting! And winning!
(but with many near defeats in the same match). The bad guy is horrendously beaten and the comeback little guy goes home with
money/new girlfriend/inner peace. Really really brutal death/fight scenes. Punctuated by artsy camera angles. I'm sure the
proliferation of such films and their population says stuff about the Chinese psyche and all that. Someone else can figure it
out.
- Since we had purchased the tickets early, we had number 1 and 2 seats. 1 is on a elevated platform right behind the driver
and next to some innerworkings of the car. Very cool location. I got to sit there.
- (greyhound like) Busses in China have a habit of stopping outside the station and allowing stragglers to come on. In that
case, the ticket is reduced a bit and all proceeds go towards the driver. When the bus got out of the station, we picked up
a guy but about another block down, policepeople flagged us down and after a half hour consultation delay, the driver paid
an hundred-dollar fine and lost some demerit points. Later Dad confessed he was very worried about our safety in case the
driver was in a bad mood and drove recklessly without paying attention to the road. His fears were probably excerbated by . Note: Everyone drives recklessly in China. Superfast, superpassing, supergoingintotheoppositedirectionlanetopasspeople.
- We arrive at the Nanjing bus station with little idea how to get to my Uncle's apartment. There are taxi's and there are people with
'escort' placards. One of those snarl us and we sit in the back of an unmarked van. The unmarked vans are like taxi's without
the license. They're generally cheaper, found near transportation corridors, but if there's trouble, it's harder to resolve.
Since we only know the community name and not the exact address, we're not sure about the drop off point. By then low blood
sugar kicked in and I was faint. A few tins of sweetened milk did their trick but it was all very dizzy and confusing under
the overheated noon sun. My dad remembers enough of the community layout to stumble in the general direction where my uncle
finds us.
- Lunch was in a freaking cold restaurant where I had to leave midway and return to Uncle's apartment to pick up a sweater.
All restaurants (not eateries - eateries are like huts on the street) have greeters. They're usually skankily dressed women
who open that door and say welcome. (Another skankily dressed waitress escorts people to their seats.)
- We visit the guy my dad lived with when he first came to Canada. He's a professor of architecture at the Southeastern University
of China. They talked a bit in a bookroom. Amazing selections all around. There were Oxford Classics or Modern Library of
Classical Texts. But volumes upon volumes of everything. And Concepts of Swedish Architecture. Or Thirteenth Century Roof Joints of
Southern China. swoon. I got to wander around by myself, into the building courtyard and some design rooms filled with unfinished
student projects. He wrote a travel plan for our visit to Xian (his area of specialty was restorational archiecture) and showed
us around compus. He also arranged the purchase of train tickets for us. (any travel beyond greyhound level bussing requires
an identity card, or it's hugely expensive Foreigner prices.)
In Shanghai
Night 14 and the Day that Followed
- Another banquet. At a restaurant with lots of vegetation dishes. We had a very nice walk afterwards. Evening cooling down
and lots of people visiting the shops.
- We ride to Shanghai really early in the morning and I sleep the entire way, about four hours. When we get there, parents
check into a hotel since there isn't enough room at my great aunt's. I'm staying with the family. There's a cousin my age and
she is our tour guide. My aunt works at a department store downtown and she bikes every day. It's about forty five minutes by
bus without the traffic; two hours at rush hour. It usually takes her an hour. I remember pictures of China where there are
oceans and oceans of bicycles just streaming by. No more oceans. There are mopeds and motorcycles these days. Scooters and
vespas and electric sort of bicycles.
- I get dragged around shopping at the department. I was caught up in the exciting of clothes shopping for about five minutes
but that died once I remembered how boring it was. Didn't end up buying anything. Surprise surprise. There was a long black
skirt with multiple layers and gauzy floating stuff but it turned out everything in that boutique was upwards of 1000 RMB. Then
came a pair of canvas bicycle pedalers. Those departed afte I refused to buy any article of clothing that cost a month's wage for
loads of people in China. 500 RMB for a pair of half pants??
- Another banquet. This time with all the uncles and aunts and cousins in Shanghai. On the way back I lagged behind with my
cousin to browse the counterfeit dvd selections then ran to catch up in case of all around panic. The dinner group had separated
into two by then and each group had assumed we were with the other. Kidnappers take note: family groups miling are good targets.
Night 15 and the Day that Followed
- At the hotel, I discover loads of sex toys for sale in a basket in the washroom. They're not sex toys exactly, but all sorts
of scented oils and lubricants and fruity flavoured condoms and fancy coloured men's briefs. Shudder.
- We are visited by my dad's university friends and their son. My cousin had just taken the end of high school examinations
and she didn't do too well. One of the university pals was some sort of director at a college in Shanghai and he'd hopefully
be able to waver the minimum entrance by a few percent.Only he seemed to have all the trademarks of a buffonish jackass. And
surprise surprise, it turned out an with an email at the beginning of August that he couldn't. Everyone agreed that it was for
the best that my cousin retake the year since her original desire was to be a doctor and attending college wouldn't have helped
that endeavour.
- My cousin and I stayed at the hotel for showers (see A Short Slideshow about Bathing in China below) but ended being too lazy
to walk back to my great aunts'. There were two twin beds so I shared one with her and my parents made do with the other.
Momentary panic about lack of blankets, but we eventually found them in some cupboards. We play the visual uncle game. Realstically
she'd win because her hands are huge and she's much much stronger. But we kind of tie with my super poker face and neither one
of us whincing.
- Everyone reconvenes at great aunts' for breakfast. My dad ship us to the Shanghai Museum where the air conditioning is in Arctic
mode. There were six floors and after the fourth my cousin and I ended up staying in the atrium where the temperature was a bit
warmer than in the exhibits.
- Lunch was at an expat coffeeshot where me made the mistake of entering. All the waiters spoke English and menu items were
all sandwiches and pastas. We find that pasta is out after ordering and settle with tomato chesse sandwich. Expat unfortuntately
didn't mean whole grain bread which I've really missed in China.
- Day of nostalgia complete at the Xianhua Book City where there's a section of imported English paperbacks. I buy my cousin
the fifth Harry Potter book.
Night 16 and the Day that Followed
- The evening is on Nanjing Road, the glitteri neon babe of streets. Midway down Nanjing Road we step inside to buy a suitcase
for return trip storage and university moving. It's bright orange and we tow it down the rest of the pedestrian street (which
is truer to its name than the one in Nanjing, thankfully) with a pit stop in a silk shop.
- I sleep with my great aunt. She says she found me hunched on the edge of the bed in the morning...I was a bit afraid of kicking
her.
- The Maglev train is the second or third leviated superspeed train in the world. As it stands currently, it's completely
useless since its route is most awkward and out of the way. As it stands, we ride it just for the novelty. It's a difficult
ordeal; finding a car to first cart us downtown, and then to one of the transfer station. The security is as strict as the
airport, only without the passport checking line. The top speed is 431 km/h. We dump baba off at the airport and go have fun
at the Shanghai Science and Technology Museum.
- By which I meant, sulk greatly at this technophiliac haven of utopic visions overrun by school groups and wealthy suburbanites.
- By which I meant, acting like a ungrateful brat causing both my uncle and my cousin to ask my mom if I was alright. This was
my official day of despair in China. The difference between the vision and futures illustrated in the museum is so far removed
from what people actually go through. There was a 'sustainable development' exhibit. Aesthetically, it was beautiful. Huge
green plastic? pillars lit from the inside. With stuff that no one read printed on the pillars. It talked about various environmental
disasters in China and the rest of the world. And cleanup efforts. Nothing about roots. The closest they came was fantastic
fashion photography of 'white garbage' in packaging. No mention about attempting to cut down. Just lots about how they never
decompose or go away. I felt like crying. Then we saw automobile robots dancing to hip hop. That's hot.
- I guess I should talk a bit Pudong and the location of the museum as well...since it was the concrete cities that began it.
Pudong is the model development area of Shanghai. It's on the otherside of the bay leading out to sea. The southern lands along
the Yangtze were all farm land. Rice paddies, vegetable crops and rice paddies again. By land mass, China's actually pretty
barren for farming. But the majority of the population is rural so they make do. Factory farming didn't really occur in China
with all the socialist farming policies. There were communes and such, but a lot of the farm land were family farmed. Most of
my ancestry were farming people. China used to be a farming country. Vegetation, domesticated and not, was real. Concrete and
tar and glass, the facade. Pudong used to be in the middle of this fertile farm land, until everyone decided China needed a
showoff location to the world. The government seized some land, kicked the farmers off, and began their development paradise.
I'm all for development, don't get me wrong. But Pudong is a scene out of barren urban lands. The streets are completely straight.
The road side plants pruned to right angles. The shrubs spell out words. There are no people. Only cars. No shade, no trees
a lot of lighting poles and everything is locked away. Seriously, the only people walking are tourists. And they're going from
car to glass statues back to tour bus and then taxi. This is not real. Of the 1.3 billion people, the smallest of fractions
can afford to live in places like this. Of the landscapes, Pudong is unrealistic. It might as well on the other side of the
Pacific. My parents love it and so do most other parents I know because they say it represents the strength of China; that
it's no longer backwards and broken. That it's modern. Modern is real. And even broken. Pudong is a sham.
Night 17 and the Day that Followed
- After supper we visit one of the aunt and uncle's from the banquet. They have two balconies. Q: What's your favourite aspect
of apartment buildings? A: Their balconies. Q: And houses? A: The yard. Q: You don't like the indoors? A: I'll have to get
back to you on that.
- Since I had missed the chance in Nanjing, I beg my cousin to go pirated DVD shopping with me on the morning before returning
to Jintan. We spend the insufferably hot morning traipsing around town. buying dvd's.
- Another uncle came and saw us off at the bus station. It was a surprise visit since we were waiting a good hour early just in
case and he suddenly popped and I was so enormously happy. He might have been in the neighbourhood or something or maybe it's
because we come back so rare it's a novelty and it's not what family's ever like. I can't remember having surprise people sending
us (me) off or coming to greet us (me). I don't even know him that well, but the fact that he came... and helped us sort through
the luggage calmed everything down so enormously. Traveling with family is a hassel because I always feel like I have to take
care of them. At Mcdonald Airport, when we came back, there was a bit of harsh questioning and then afterwards I spoke with great
bitterness at Mom: You are such a bad traveller. She looked momentarily horrified and then we both burst into laughter.
I am such a horrible person.
- The bus took of really late and was ensnarled in traffic for an hour before we left Shanghai. There were all sorts of people
who knew each other and the driver at the front, where we sat. It was really awkward. At point, a girl with a pierced lip tried
to take my Mom's seat. (my Mom had gotten to buy a newspaper at the second Shanghai bus stop) Lip rings signify levels of toughness
in China synonymous with... really tough people. (hmm. I supposed dyed blue hair does as well) It got worse because she just shoved
her bag into the seat and went back to deal with her boyfriend's lack of seat...and so I had to bring the bag back and confront
her. I think I'm just a wuss.
- About half an hour from Jintan, the bus broke down. By now the bus was two hours late. Midway into the trip we found out that
an uncle had been waiting for us at the station since an hour before the scheduled arrival time. (just in case) This time it
just felt super awkward. Jintan is our teeny hometown with the bus station a fifteen minute bicycle cart ride away from home.
My mom tried to get the uncle to go home. Eventually, with the bus breakdown he drove out to get us. Super awkward. But by then
everyone else had hailed down other busses to get back to Jintan. My mom thinks the bus driver was a classmate of hers from
middle school. Only he was the bad sort and dropped out before graduation. This made the breakdown a bit more scary,
especially when everyone else had hailed busses.
In Jintan:
Night 1 and the Day that Followed
- We get to Jintan about ten o clock at night. I had slept the four hours of travel from the airport and woke up expecting to
find my grandparents house. Instead it was a banquet. It was very rough. Expecting a quiet tour and standing on the balcony
to be presented with social convention and all sorts of scrutiny. I was probably very irritable and kept asking for my grandpa,
who hadn't arrived yet. Ate some pea's at the dinner.
- Showers were taken. Or, A Short Slideshow about Bathing in China: Hot water pipes don't existed in buildings constructed
before 1997 in the area where we live. And some after that. I think with a lot of services that are available in the west, and
not to developing countries, it's hard to take in the infrastructure that's actually involved. Take hot water. That's piping.
Method of heating (natural gas?). Transportations of heating methods. Architecture to support the transportations and then
the design of the actual apparatus and how to connect it to the rest of the system. Needless to say, in places like China
where most of the country does not live in new buildings, it's also much harder to adapt older systems to include modern features.
The bathing I remember involve a rubber basin big enough to sit in. When we were living with bathtubs there was also a sunken
square at one end where the water went. Everything was boiled in enormous kettles and kept in hot water bottles. None of the
puny thermoses. Those babies kept boiling water reasonable hot for twelve hours. There were also public bath houses for the
wintertime. These days hot water is provided by a variety of devices; all of these portable for each housing unit, rather than
the centralized piping that's found in these parts. I think the main reason for that is apartment units in China are very much
like the condominiums here. Except for the floor plan, everything else is renovation-designed by the buyer. There are basic
layouts of input output piping, but the actual installation of tubs, sinks, toilets et al are through contract people that the
buyer hire. This is probably the biggest reason for the proliferation of ... solar water heaters!! yay! My grandparents own one!
Compared to natural gas heaters. it incomparably better. (natural gas heater - a bbq with the propane tanks rigged to an
integrated system computing display that allows the user to adjust the water temperature. notoriously hard to adjust, finicky,
inconveniable with regards to the wait time for the water to heat etc) All that's needed is a tubing, the panels system which
is sold at most hardware stores and some roof. Every morning my grandpa draws up some water to be heated by the sun, and come
evening, 9 to 10 litres of hot water. There are different capacities and all. But the five of us survived showers on a moderately
sized solar water heater. It doesn't work well for cloudy days, like the rainy season, or winters. I'm willing to overlook
'showers' during monsoons for the basin baths and the bath-houses are more conveniente for winters anyway. yay grandparents!
yay solar water heater!
- We're staying with my maternal grandparents, which is hugely bucking tradition. Since brides always go to the husband's family
and stuff. So to make it slightly better, we spent most of the first day shuffling between the two apartments. This isn't hard
since it's about a ten minute walk. And then we visit lots of other people on the paternal family side. This is ok in the
evening or early morning, but ten minutes walks during the day are terrible in the heat. Dad does most of the backs and forths
and after the second run, he decides to borrow my (maternal) grandpa's bicycle. The thing is that it's newly second hand. As
the old reliable red bike of eleven years was recently stolen. The new one bought after that was stolen as well. So grandpa
decided on a super ratty second hand model and to use a chain rather than the locks provided in the bicycle, which really just
locks the wheels to the rest of the bike. My dad didn't know about the chain rule (hahah) and tried to test out the attached
to bicycle lock. Grandpa didn't bother acquiring the key from the buyer. We had to steal the bike. With a variety of hammers,
pinchers and wrenches. It took twenty minutes. Two passerby's saw us. We were very conspicuous. This is how bikes get stolen in China.
- In the evening, Dad rode the bike, following Mom and I in a bicycle cart. We were vising a great aunt at the other end of
the city. About a thirty five minute walk, I think. In Jintan, and most other towns this size, private cars aren’t very numerous,
compared to overall population (but still loads, in just sheer number). Today, there are bicycles, electrical bicycles, mopeds,
vespa’s, motorcycles, taxi’s, and my favourite: the three wheeled bicycle cart. It functions like a taxi, only with people
power. the starting rate is two dollars, going up to around six from one of the city to the other, or if there’s luggage/multiple
people. In monetary terms, it’s much cheaper than the taxi, which has five bucks as the beginning rate. And just plain more
friendly since the bicycle riders are generally more easygoing. The work’s also tougher and I always end up being fooled into
thinking they need the money more than taxi drivers. oh well.
Night 5 and the Day that Followed
- Second stay with Liuyi. We cut short "contre l'humanité" on the CCTV movie channel (dubbed!) for sleep. She promises it'll
be rebroadcast. It's not. I breakfast with cousin-in-private-school-with-scholarship. Downstairs, by the well, we get
recognized and talked about. I look like my mom? In other lucks of the draw: both my cousins have lost their biological
fathers. There is no a punchline.
- Lunching and pre-lunching messenger. I ride over with Dad and Grandpa to Nanjing and trains and Xian. I read. Listen
to Granpa talk about restorations of the ancestral roof tiles. He had knocked them down during the Cultural Revolution to
prevent trouble since his great grandfather had been some sort of scholar with the landowning roof post insignia to prove
it. Subsequent sons had lost it in shoddy lifestyles choices - probably how the family emerged from the Cultural Revolution
mostly unscathed. Grandpa says he doesn't have long to do this; he'll be seeing Marx soon. Grandpa believed. He gave his
life. And now he laments and watches from the geezer corner as school fees rise with exponents and the income gap widens.
After making him recount what happened to him after my second uncle died, I kind of wish he wasn't such a stranger so
I could touch a shoulder or something since it's the only way I know to give comfort and I don't know if I know him well enough
to not have that seen as something idiotic. So I only nodded lots.
Night 11 and the Day that Followed
- We touch down super late in Nanjing from the flight in Xian. My Nanjing uncle is there waiting for us, having waited six
hours without dinner. He stumbled for two hours outside the airport but it was all highway and more highway. I think he settled
on the cheapest thing in the airport: a coke.
- There was a commuter bus to downtown Nanjing which we took. I was half a sleep by then but kept up a steady forty minutes of
babble with the uncle. We must have been loud because there were people staring and my dad struck a conversation with an
unable-to-not eavesdropper who felt like he knew us enough to start an acquaintence conversation. I'm probably romanticizing
it at this point, but it ranks up there with best bus rides ever.
- Sleep again with aunt. It's a non issue by now. We wake up having missed the early bus and the sort of early bus to catch
the eight o clock bus. This time the four of us all return. A lot more sleeping went on.
- Unpacked. Slept more. Visited Liuyi’s mom who just had an operation in Shanghai to get rid of some uterian cysts. Uterian
cysts and gallstones are really widespread in China. I have sort of an idea that the uterian cysts might have one of its causation
factors from multiple abortions. And that, from the one child policy. Don’t take any of this for face value though..I haven’t
done any research..just jumpking to conclusion.
- I learn about of a banquet with the paternal family people that very evening. Things are kind of awkward
between us. Since I mostly grew up with my maternal grandparents CONTRE TRADITION and some then other nasty stuff. At this point
I should make it known that a shitload of other stuff has been going on within the family. Some of it exploded when I went to
the washroom and found one of my great aunts waiting for me outside. She cornered me and proceeded to try to convert me to
Falun Dafa for fifteen minutes. This was incredibly scary. Falun Dafa begun as an qui gong/meditation exercise movement with
a spiritual guru at its head. Along the way, it has morphed into a cult that decided to get into politics and staged enormous
protests in Beijing, the biggest since '89. (wikipedia tiananmen square incident, or massacre, for some unrelated but good none
the less background information about democracy movements in China) I like my politics, and I like my religion. So long as they're
far away from each other. The Chinese governments likes neither politics nor religion and possibly especially together. Falun Gong
was banned. All the practicioners who refused to stop got in trouble if they practiced in public places. All the 'activist people'
got thrown in jail with enormous sentences. My great aunt was one of the heads in Jintan. She went to jail, then with got out
after much manoevering from my grandpa and great uncle, both 'revolutionaries' back in the day. (Actually, my great aunt was
as well...) So here's my great aunt, a known 'offender,' cornering me outside a washroom and whispering crazy stories. Actually
crazy. The end of the world is coming...the devil will check the hands of people...(communist)party members will have a
mark...they'll die...I have to save my parents...I shouldn't read Mao's little red book. Then she tried to use a tsuanmi
anecdote to illustrate how there's a wave coming and the Falun Dafa believers are trying to warn people but no one's
listening. (copyright violation from Noah's Ark?) Then she shoved two packets of paper into my pocket and told me to read it. And then try to convince my parents.
By then I started to walk back and she didn't follow me. It was quiet with everyone staring at me, so I told them. Dad got
really angry (he thinks I'm extremist and brain washed enough, is my guess). Amazingly, when great aunt came back to the
table, she continued to talk aboutFalun Gong... in less scary devilcomingmustrecouncepartymembership! ways. By then, Dad exploded
and shouted and pushed tea cups over. Um. When the bill comes, it turns out to be a few hundred less than what my grandparents
expected. Grandpa inquires and it turns out the owner of the restaurant was a student of his. He tries to pay the proper price
but she doesn't let him. Good time had by all?
- There were fireworks during the walk back to the grandparents. My grandpa hates fireworks. (both grandpa's as I found out
later on) His take: pissed rich people showing off how pissed rich they are. He minds it less during new year's, but occasionless
fireworks draws his venom like...many other things draw his venom. Grandpa: a bitter guy.
- Back home, away from waitresses I ask Dad to read me the paper packets. He gets very angry. I calm him down. He skims it.
It was a repeat of the Tsunami anecdote and demons after Armageddon that kill people according to their party status. Lovely
literature eh?
Night 12 and the Day that Followed
- We visit Changzhou during the day, the city where my parents worked before coming to Canada. First, there's a sit and chat
with the mother of one of our family friends here. She had just returned to China after a six year stay. We brought her Tim
Hortons powdered chocolate. They fed us really really juicy peaches. Yum.
- Old collegues of my mom, and their children meet us for lunch. I used to play with these people as kids, but I don't know
them at all. One of them is studying commerce and the other electrical engineering in first year university. Qiaozhen (commerce,
girl, really tall, photogenic) got me a lavendar hello kitty..cat..with hearts as hairbows. I gave both of them...tins of
Tim Hortons Hot Chocolate Powder. Seriously, it's hard to buy Canadian presents that aren't Maple Sugar. Everyone we bought
maple syrup for the first time hated it. Lili (other, oppsoite, opposite, photoneutral) talked lots. Found out much later
that he's super outgoing in university, with participaton in hosting campus radio, sports, etc. He has an art school girlfriend
that he's putting off getting serious with until after university. We were chatting along ok, with the cultural exchange
end of things, until I mentioned the last visit in '96. He had gotten me a solar powered calculator made in Japan with a note
that he hoped to study in Japan to know from their technology. Big mistake. He turned Nationalist Pig on me. And I turned
hostile anti-nationalist. (short briefing: China, Japan not friends. Backstory: world war two. Backstory two: Lack of apology.
Backstory three: revisionist history books in Japan. Backstory four: Chinese inferiority complex. Backstory five: Manchuria
in the eighteenth century. Backstory six: Historically, the first settlers of Japan were Chinese..from a gazillion years ago.
And yes, both the spoken language and written language find ancesters in Chinese dialects/scripts. Backstory seven: Japan wants
to gain seat on security council. Backstory eight: visits to the war memorial by the Japanese P.M. A memorial where some war-crime
accused Japanese generals are buried. Backstory a dozen: anti-Japanese rioting in China. Backstory anecdote: ) so yeah. It's
deep. And could be argued it's knee jerk. But I expected more from Lili...which was a bad idea since he fits very well into
the urban Chinese twenty-something profile of extreme nationalism WeWillNotBeHumilatedAgain, TheNextCenturyWillBeChina's.) Anyway,
we quickly changed subjects and parted ways after lunch.
- Later in the car. Me:Hey aiyi, where's Lili. His mom: Oh hehe. We wanted to get you something but since it's been so long
we weren't sure what would be appropriate. Lili decided to meet you first to get some idea. He left just now to get you a
present. Me: Uhoh. There's really no need, aiyi. His mom: He said he knew exactly what to get you. Me: Good Lord. It's fine
really. I don't need presents. His mom: Aren't you funny, Jiajia.
So we visit their in-the-process-of-renovation
apartment and eventually Lili calls me downstairs (he rides a bmx bike which comes with a stayswithbody policy). And. He got
me. a crystal. A freaking Swarovski crystal, which he informs me is quite good, you should know right? No. I didn't know. And
I have no idea how he picked out a freaking glass star from the conversation. After googling, I now know it's
completely over the top extravantly expensive, especially as an impulse buy without the 'annual crystal clearance price
slashdown.' This is probably now the most expensive jewellery I own. The only extravagant jewellery I know. The guilt trip
is unbelievable.
- We walk towards the bus stop from the in-process-of-renovation-apartment. Suddenly, there's a Changzhou-Jintan bus coming
towards us and lo and behold...we hail it down. Reporter: So, how does it feel, entering the black transportion market for
the second time. Me: Kind of ok. Our seats are all seperated and incredibly, I sleep the entire way. On a blackmarket vehicle.
Without ticket stubs. On the ticket checker's seat.
Night 13 and the Day that Followed
- The next few days go by in a blur. This one all I remember is going to the office complex of an (maternal) uncle and bringing
my (paternal) grandparents along to play pingpong. Even though we have a table in the basement, I hadn't played since grade
9. Right after the last time I came back to China. Yes, that's correct. When I go back to China, I return wanting to play
pingpong. It was really nice since my grandpa's skilled enough that he can give me lots of consistently placed balls to practice.
Loads of fun. Especially watching him beat all the other office people who come to spectate after a while. Turns out
one of them was a student of my grandpa's. Grandpa then beat dad, who was apparently the teenage protege of some pingpong star
back in the day. Well, back in the day, my grandparents won in the elderly division in the provincial tourney. Beat that, dad.
- There are seven dogs at the office complex. Five of them month old puppies. The mother dog carried them all to a somewhat
deserted washroom right after giving birth. I play with puppies for half an hour. The rest was a blur.
Night 18 and the Day that Followed
- My before going to China plan was to stay low key, do lots of chores for my grandparents, since I don’t usually get to help
them, go on many excusions with grandpa and food shopping with grandma. Low key didn’t pan out. But I finally got to early
morning exercise for the first time today. When I lived with them, I used to always accompany my grandpa. We usually went
to Mathematician Park, where there were hills and pagoda’s. Mathematician Park has been established for ages, first as a scenic
spot near the river that encircled the city. According to Grandpa, a variation of it was there when he was a kid. Really just
a mount of dirt by the river where everyone washed laundry and splishsplashed. Some of my earliest memories are in the park,
with my cousin and uncle and the swings and slides and jungle gym I couldn’t climb properly.
- Grandpa uses the park washrooms every morning as a part of the regulated bowel movement and he tells me to go around by myself
and he’ll find me. I’m very leery of losing him but agree. I loiter around the washrooms, eventually circling the park. And
panick as we don’t run into each other after fifteen minutes. The river that used to encircle the city is a cesspool crick now.
And I’m panicking, with grandpa’s agility balls (you rotate the two counterclockwise or clockwise in the hand) and I’m feeling
faint with low blood sugar when I drop one. And it rolls into the crick. Panic increases manifold. Grandpa finds me. I pour
out the story. He makes it ok. We walk around again.
- Alright, I lied. There were two days of despair in China. The second was after going to the park again. A lot of it was
unchanged...the singing and dancing troups..kids playing badminton, senoir citizens with flutes and qui gong and tai chi.
The stepping stones by the lake were much closer together, and the pond stinkier than I remembered. Then I entered the playground
part. And. Oh man. Ok. All the slides. The freaking slides. And jungle gyms and swings and simple everyday playground things
had been torn up. And replaced with a tented little pavallion with a fence and a gate and the same swings and slides inside.
You had to pay to use a slide. There were loads of other amusement rides...merry go rides, ferris wheels. Ok.
Those were actual rides, that I can understand. With electricity and a ride operator. Fine. Charge for those. Fence those.
Make gates for forming lines. But for freaking slides? Not water slides. Not the foam ball pools. Normal cruddy slides. No.
Ok. Not cruddy. I thought they were amazing back in the day. And there weren’t any ‘ride’ rides with operators. Just a normal
kiddie playground. I don’t get it. How they’re able to do this. Ok Kiddies. three bucks for fifteen minutes with that slide
apparatus. Keep in mind this is supposed to be socialist. Service fees. For a slide. I ranted all the way home to everyone and
was told that the exact same thing happened the last time I was in China. The last time they had just torn down the slides and
left only rider fees rides. But to actually bring it back. And charge money. Despair. This can only be described as despair.
- I’m spending a few days with the other grandparents, so I go over there for lunch. My grandpa plays the erhu, as well as
the organ for fun. He also has many scores to play along and I have the time of my life pounding stuff out on the organ. After
supper, my cousin comes over to join me. Propaganda ditties are quite the catchy tunes.
Night 19 and the Day that Followed
- After dinner, cousin and I end up talking until one o clock. She’s like super woman. And I can properly talk about my fear
about nationalism in China and she understands (!) and I substitute English words for the Chinese words I don’t know and
she understands!
- We both wake up ridiculously late. Then bum around playing songs on the organ and reading. I rush home to meet the classmate
of my mom who had hopped cities to visit us. Her son is super tall and in engineering and sports and being lonerish and
not enjoying socializing but articulate at the same time. Good enough for me. Mom and friend talk a lot. Then take many
pictures. I return to the other grandparents after the visit.
- We spend the afternoon playing pingpong and looking up Harry Potter spoilers on the internet. My cousin’s a fanatic as well.
She’s ordered it for the November release in China.
Night 20 and the Day that Followed
- My cousin, my grandma and I watch Peacock. Any other viewing, I would have cried, but the exhausting talk last night toughened
me to be manifolds more cycnical. They didn't like it much. Cousin and I go to bed. We stay up talking until twelve this
time. I offer a listen to Dandy Warhols and Neutral Milk Hotel then. go off to read. Cousin falls asleep mid song.
- In the morning, it's The Talk with my grandparents. Cousin escapes back home and I realize too late that I never got her email.
Grandpa grill me about everything and I've repressed it all. It's basically the listen to your parents, you're all they've
got, school tough, keep focus, What's Happening Back Home, times family matters a thousand.
- I leave to lunch back at maternal grandparents.
- By the afternoon, I'm completely exhausted with the trips and banquets and visiting and slide into tv land. This is all afternoon,
with the help of four kungfu shows. Kungfu show's are marvelously easy to catch up on, even with my poor grasp of Chinese
It's pretty much possible to jump in at any point in the mini series. (note: TV in China operates not in seasons as primetime
does here. Instead there are mini series, shown anytime during the day. These vary between twenty and forty episodes.
Sometimes there are sequels.)
Night 21 and the Day that Followed
- This day was really the blur. I remember shopping, sleeping in the morning and sleeping in the afternoon. There were two
banquets, watching afternoon TV. Then more sleep. And sleep somemore. I think there was another banquet in the evening, but
I am too tired to keep track of who's inviiting who in whose name.
- Oh, there was the eating of an amazing egg. It was smaller than eggs here but exploding with taste. Not the gross eggy taste
or smell but really tastefull... I tell this to grandma and she tells me about the freerange chicken phenomena in China. I learn
with surprise that chickens were traditionally always free range in rural China. Even urban China when everyone lived in flats,
and not apartments. Chickens used to wander around yards feeding on food scraps and to the coopat night return . There'd be
fertilized eggs for hatching chicks and an unfertilized egg a day for eating. My grandma used to raise chickens and so did
my mom (!). They stopped at their new residence (third floor) and she misses it tremendously. Nowadays, freerange eggs and
chickens are increasingly expensive because it's more profitable to raise factory farm chickens. (There's a middle ground
between the two called...aquaculture chickens, which range freely by aquaculture ponds. My grandma says she doesn't like
those because they taste strange; she blames the fertlizer and steroids in the fish ponds). She helped me to decide to eat
free range chicken the next time I come across it because they have almost zero ecological footprints, with the scraps and
all....but we never came across any in the last few days.
- I'm also going to have to revisit my policy of not eating any meat. In the summertime, there's a dish in China made from
a amphibian shaped a bit liked an ell. I had avoided it, but towards the end I had learned that they were wild and caught
as a pest in rice paddies. Also nothing to do with ecological footprints. I think I might go back to eating them the next time
I go back.
Night 22 and the Day that Followed
- I make sure to wake up really early for the trip to the market with grandma. She does all the cooking and shopping
and this involves going to the vegetable market everyday. The market's open from dawn and it's a good idea to go early for
the freshest produce (picked the day before, usually). Originally I had planned to go as often as possible, along with my
grandpa's exercise excursions. Unfortunately I only slept at 'home' something like five times. The market's really messy with
on the scene butchers for fish and fowl and all sorts of squiggly food and so on, but it was really alive. We bump into many
people on the way and I get told many times that I look exactly like my mom. Or at least everything from my eyes up. But not
including hair, I suppose. I hope the vegetable markets never go away and they're never replaced by supermarkets. I don't think
hoping's going to work. Most people my parents generation even buy from supermarkets than from the markets. Even with the fresher
produce and everything. It seriously makes a difference. Sigh. Oh! good story about The Parts of a Pumpkin. One of the things
that are only available around Jintan are pumpkin vines. The great thing about them is that they're always 100% organic since
they don't have any natural enemies due to the protective fuzz. The not so great thing is the protective fuzz needs to be
peeled off and the process of peeling is time consuming. And slightly prickly. Just ever so slightly. Oh wow I miss pumpkin
vine. It doesn't taste like any other kind of vegetation. The tastefullness was like the egg and like blueberries. It explodes!
Oh wow. Misses the vegetables in China... Sigh.
- I think a lot of shopping went on today. I managed to buy a woolen skirt. Mom bought some knick knacks and some other woolen
skirts. We visited places for my shopping list of requests. It rained. I learned to umbrella for two.
- Afternoon slide into television again. I get too tired towards the end to do anything. I spend the night at Liuyi’s for the last time.
Night 23 and the Day that Followed
- Last Banquet in China!! Hurrah! No more banquets..but also..no more China... This was awful. Usually the restaurants are
close enough for walking or if worst comes to worst, a bicycle cart. But apparently, all the new, popular places are on the
outskirts. So my grandparents and us are actually shipped out with two car trips. And everything was glitzy and horrible and
gold. And the friends of my uncle who had friends in Xian was there. And his son studying in Sheridan in Toronto was there,
with his fiancée. There was shark fat at one point. And I took two bites before gagging from the unmistakable sea food taste.
My grandma couldn’t get the taste out and then got stomach upset later at home. It’s most tragic for this to be the last dinner.
- We go home then out to say goodbye to the other grandparents. Then return home to wake up for the 4:30 departure. Everyone’s
up by two. It’s awful. Half awake. And a great uncle and an aunt and an uncle and Liuyi and grandma see us off in Shanghai.
They pack us lots of food for the lack-of-vegetarian-meals-unless-with-twenty-four-hour-notice. In the car, Liuyi and I sleep
on each other. Very comforting. Awfulness at the airport with everyone crying. And then Mom short with me (my initial guess
because I was initially not crying, but I think she was just sad without any place to output it). And then I burst into tears.
And then we were very careful with each other. And then it was getting on the airplane.
Miscellenia
- All my relatives are either teachers or accountants, or they marry teachers or accountants. Should your finances need
educating, come on right over.
- The idea is to not talk politics. Ever. Taxi drivers don't count. And I guess people you know well are ok too.
- Regarding gas stations: Sinopec or China Petro. Which is it, eh?
- Webby: Photo logia
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