Interesting, yes.  Amazing, no.

With snow completely covering buildings, trees and the flat terrain, Heilongjiang, from an airplane window, looked like a snow globe that hadn’t been shaken up in a while.Contrastingly, my next destination Yunnan, which is in the southern part of China, looked like a giant broccoli farm, so lush and dense were the rolling hills.Bordering Myanmar, Laos, and Vietnam, Yunnan (South of the Clouds), is known for its great variety of people, terrain, flora and fauna.

The first city I visited in Yunnan was Kunming, where I discovered beautifully landscaped streets, tons of cafes and the most delicious food.My first stop was the Stone Forest, which I had imagined to be a Grand Canyon of limestone pillars where you could take the rock version of the Rorshach inkblot test.Rock formations here have names like Rhinoceros Looking at the Moon, Wife Waiting for her Husband, and Phoenix Combing its Wings.Though the individual rock formations were pretty fascinating, the park—with its manicured lawns and paved walkways—was not the geographical wonder I had in mind.  Maybe I've been spoiled with views of Bryce Canyon and Yosemite Valley.  Still, I had to try to take shots that made the park look like the best rock formation park in the world.

 

This natural wonder is cleverly entitled Elephant Standing on a Platform.

After reading an intriguing description in the Lonely Planet, my friend Allison and I decided to visit the Bamboo Temple, which features these realistic life-size clay figures of noblemen.The Lonely Planet reports that these figures’ expressions include an impressive range of human emotion: joy upon seeing an old friend, anticipation before clapping two symbols together in a musical performance, conviction while emphasizing a discussion point.

I had imagined the figures to be like the great terracotta soldiers of Xi’an taking part in day-to-day activities.After visiting this temple and seeing the rather commonplace figures, I marveled at the power of words to create interest in something I would have otherwise easily disregarded.

Eureka!  Despite our disappointment at not seeing the grandest sculptures of the 19th century, 
Allison and I--after having carefully inspected every expression of every figure--were inspired to capture some of our own emotions while in our self-named Garden of Contemplation.

Surviving Subzero

During the Spring Festival holiday, I traveled from the coldest part of China to the warmest, shedding my layers as I made my way south.I visited the following cities: Harbin, Kunming, Lijiang, Zhongdian, and the Xishuangbanna Region.

I started my travels in Heilongjiang (Black Dragon River) which, sharing a border with Russia, is China’s northernmost province.With subzero temperatures, Heilongjiang’s most famous attraction is the Ice Lantern Festival, found in the city of Harbin.I spent a week in Harbin with my friend Barbara skiing, ice skating and touring attractions like the Ice Lantern Festival and the Siberian Tiger Park.

Drinking pearl milk tea and eating roasted chestnuts at the Harbin Institute of Technology with
(from right to left) Barbara, her roommate Wei Wei and Wei Wei's boyfriend, Tom. 

To train for the Harbin cold while in Qingdao, I often did not turn on my heater.While in Harbin, I survived the cold by wearing two layers of wool thermals under a ski bib and a down jacket.To complete the snowman look, I wore earmuffs, a SARS-type face mask, a hat and a scarf.

So how cold is cold?

Forget trying to describe what cold feels like.After a certain point, the body is too numb to be able to register degrees of coldness.Let me describe what cold looks like:

- Nose hairs and eyelashes become icicles.

-Squishy fruit like persimmons and pears roll around like marbles in boxes and have to be thawed out in warm water before they can be eaten.

-Soda sold on the street is rock solid.

-Ungloved fingers lose all sensation. I found if I took too long composing a photo, my fingers became so numb that I could not press the trigger button.

-Ice cream is sold directly out of boxes, not freezers.Why would anyone want ice cream in this weather, you ask?The locals say that the central heating is so warm that they need to cool off once they get indoors.

-    Huge—no, gargantuan—ice and snow sculptures grace the whole city.Think sandcastles.Now, think snow and ice instead of sand.Next, think big—as big as a life-sized building with rooms and staircases.Finally, think of a city filled with these buildings all lit up.That’s the
Ice Lantern Festival:

  


For the record, temperatures ranged from –20°C to –30°C (-4°F to -22°F).

Also famous in Harbin are the Siberian Tigers, which are the largest of all tigers and are listed by the World Wide Fund for Nature as one of the world’s 10 most endangered animals.

I had expected to see the tigers in a fairly natural habitat, roaming freely through trees and caves.But instead of entering the wildlife preserve I had in mind, I felt like—as my minibus made its way through double security gates to get to each section of the park—I was visiting inmates in a prison.

For the most part, the tigers lounged around, either sleeping or preening.The one time they showed themselves to be the powerful predators I expected to see was at feeding time.Visitors can buy live animals, ranging from chickens Y40 (US $5) to cattle Y1,500 (US $187.50), to feed the tigers.  A truck with caged windows rolls out into the field, the driver throws out whatever the visitors bought and within seconds, the tigers pounce.

In my Heart’s Eye

After a wonderful summer in the States with some of my favorite American people, foods and hangouts, I found it a bit hard to leave.  Once back on campus though, since I was already familiar with the environment, customs and people here at Laiyang Agricultural College (LYAC), I thought that settling back in to my China routine would be easy.  During my first few weeks back in Qingdao, however, my mind kept flashing back to some of my favorite moments during the summer and I found that I was not able to pick up from where I left off before the summer.  As much as I love my home here and as truly excited as I was to see my Chinese friends again, I found that my heart was really back in San Francisco.  Though slightly aware that I was not all here in Qingdao, I was feeling too blah to figure some way to ship the rest of me over.  With the help of some of my favorite people here at LYAC, I saw that my heart was not really as far away as I thought.

Old Eyes

One of the people I most looked forward to reconnecting with was Margaret, my good friend and language partner.  A junior English major who humorously speaks her mind and loves reading classical Chinese literature, Margaret is unlike any Chinese girl I know.  In fact, Margaret is unlike anyone I know.  When the campus boiler broke down a couple weeks ago, all the students went without any drinking water for five days.  Thirsty, she came knocking on my door for a cup of water.  Since I was not home, she knocked on the door of my neighbor, also an English teacher.  Seeing that he was not home, she moved to the next floor to knock on the door of another teacher.  Disappointed yet again, she continued knocking on the doors of the rest of the English teachers.  When she received no response from any of the doors, she proceeded to knock on the Japanese teacher’s door, all the while straining to recall any Japanese words she knew.  When she found that even he was not home, Margaret became desperate.  She decided to go to a restaurant that she knew would serve tea upon seating.  While she skimmed the menu, she gulped down the tea as quickly as she possible could.  Once she emptied the tea pot, she quickly glanced around the room and seeing that no one was watching her, grabbed her bag and furtively ran out of the restaurant!

While many Chinese girls are preoccupied with losing weight and straightening their hair to appear more womanly, Margaret has decided that she would much rather look like a girl than bother so much with appearances.  While most spend all their time studying for a qualifying graduate school exam (to get into a good graduate school to get a good job to attract a good husband to—hey, who imported that dream?), Margaret has declared that she finds such an existence boring and meaningless.  Her dream is to teach English to children in the undeveloped areas in western China where the conditions are harsh and the resources limited.  In these areas, water is so limited that people wash their faces only after they have already used the water to cool their parched throats.  After reading a recent article that described in detail these conditions as well as the needs of the people there, Margaret wept and determined that she would do all she could to make her dream come true. 

When I first saw Margaret this semester, I noticed that instead of the chipped round black glasses she used to wear, she wore a pair with a silver frame.  Finding this serious pair completely unlike her bold, spontaneous personality, I asked her what happened to her old pair.

“It broke so I found this old pair from junior high school,” she answered matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean, it broke?”

“I dunno,” she responded, emphasizing the second syllable of dunno as she always does.  “I took off my glasses and reached to put them on the counter without looking and I guess I missed.”

I had to laugh.  Now that sounded like the old Margaret that I know.

New Eyes

With hair that occasionally flops in his eyes and a gentle smile, Victor, a fourth-year Foreign Trade major, can pass for a model.  When I first saw Victor again, I was struck by how cool he looked in his new trendy black, rectangular frames.  When I commented on Victor’s cool frames to his roommate Forrest, Forrest chuckled.  “He got those because he loves Supergirl.”  Literally translated, Supergirl is China’s American Idol with female competitors and Victor’s favorite singer wears the same pair of unisex frames.  Forrest added that Victor announced to his dormmates that one day, when there is one, he would be on Superboy. 

While I have always known that Victor possessed an inner coolness, I was shocked that he would so publicly display it.  While I have always known of his interest in music—the first time I met him, he was playing guitar—I never would have guessed that he would dare to perform on national TV.  You see, Victor is painfully shy around unfamiliar people and speaks so softly that no one can ever hear him, whether in person or on the phone.  One of his classmates told me of one of her first encounters with him during their freshman year.  While boarding a bus and carrying a ton of packages, she recognized Victor and waited for him to greet her and possibly offer her a seat.  Since he had seen and recognized her but had not even acknowledged her, she thought he was rude and standoffish.  When they both got off the bus and walked separately toward the campus—she struggling with her packages and he avoiding her eye—she decided that she hated him and would never forgive him for his rudeness.  Eventually she got to know Victor and learned that the reason he did not even look at her was not that he was too cool for her, but that he was so shy that he did not know what to say to her. 

So this semester, when I saw him sporting his new frames and later, standing on a stage singing in a group that he recently joined, I was completely amazed by the new Victor. 

Different Eyes

       Just this week I had lunch with a former student, a second-year graduate Veterinary Science student named Ralph who used to spend up to ten hours a night playing Counterstrike, an online video game.  As we walked into a Korean restaurant, I thought back to one of our first meals together.

       “How are you, Ralph?”  As we walked through the dining hall selecting our dishes, I threw out a general question, not expecting much more than the small talk responses we had previously studied in class.

       “Oh, I’ve been really busy and I’m so tired,” Ralph said wearily.

       Like I had taught my students to do to show interest and further the conversation, I asked a follow-up question, “Really?  What have you been busy doing?”        
        “Nothing.” 

        “Huh?” Shocked at his use of the word that typically kills conversation—which I had mentioned in class—I could not come up with a better response.

“I’ve been busy doing nothing.  Every day I go to the lab and do experiments all day.  It’s so boring and meaningless!  This is what I’ll be doing for the rest of my life.  What’s the point?”

The frustration in his voice indicated that he had spent a lot of time prior to this conversation thinking about the answer to that question and was thirsty for a whole lot more than small talk.  Since then, every encounter with Ralph has been filled with intentional questions and sincere exploration of answers.

Our last meal together was no different.  After about two sentences of small talk, Ralph declared that he had specific topics that he wanted to discuss concerning the purpose of his life and how that affects the way he spends his time.  As we worked on our dolsot bibimbap (vegetables, meat and rice cooked in a clay pot), Ralph remarked, “It’s so different.”

“What’s so different?”

“This meal and the meal that I had with my old friend last night.  Last night we talked about the things that we always talk about.  You know, money, jobs, girls.  But today, the topics are so different.”

“Well, Ralph, that’s because you’re different now.”

“Yeah.  And I found that those topics are not as interesting to me anymore.  Actually, a lot of things are not that interesting to me anymore.  I haven’t played video games in so long that I’ve lost my skill.”

That fact alone confirmed that I was looking at a totally different Ralph.

       People like Margaret, Victor and Ralph are the reasons that I am living in China.  I am blessed because I know them and even more blessed because I am able to share in their lives.  Being with them reminded me that my heart is here after all, just as it is also in San Francisco.  I did not have to ship my heart over, but I did have to grow that part that has been here all along.  While my friends will see the world with a variety of eyes, I hope to always see them with the eyes of my heart.

1/27/05 

Korean Travel Tips

·         Strengthen your fingers.  The steel chopsticks are so thin and
heavy that, on many occasions, I’ve had to resort to a spoon.   

• To avoid numb taste buds, learn to pronounce the following sentence:
  Ahn my eep jang ay heh jew say oh (Please don’t make it spicy).
• Wear socks without holes.  At all homes and many restaurants, you
  must take off your shoes and sit on the floor, which is usually heated.
• Bow at all times for almost all reasons: hello, goodbye, thank you.

2/14/05

Top 5 Questions to Ask a Foreigner During
Chinese New Year

1. How old are you?
2. Are you married?
3. How much do you weigh?
4. How much money do you make?
5. What do you think of President Bush?

Yes, in that order.

12/28/05

Bike Mafan

No stay in China would be complete without bike mafan, or bike trouble.  Though my silver bike with the handy basket and friendly bell gave me my first view of the city square, allowed me to stock up at the weekly farmer’s market, and endured bumpy paths in the neighboring corn fields, it also led to more headaches than I care to completely recount.  Here are only the high- uh, lowlights:

Dominoes

There are about a million bikes on campus.  In order to find room for their bikes, which are usually parked so tightly that you can barely see the sidewalk beneath, people usually have to make room, squeezing their bikes between others, practically stacking them.  This leads to two problems.  First, short of flying a flag above my handles, it’s nearly impossible for me to find my bike.  Second, my bike is usually buried so deep in the pile that I have to dig it out.  On one such excavation attempt, I accidentally tipped over the bike next to mine, which tipped over the one next to it, which tipped over the next bike . . . With dread, I knew that every bike in that row would go toppling down like a life-sized domino game.  Fortunately, my bike was parked fairly close to the end so I only had to reset about five bikes.  Whew!

Hide and Seek

In order to later easily find my bike among the hundreds of others at the library parking lot, I parked it near the farthest building window.  When I was ready to leave, I headed to the farthest window but could not find my bike.  For me, this was not an uncommon occurrence.  Since my light-colored bike was so easy to overlook, especially under the other bikes that had since parked, I often had to check two or three times for my bike.  After checking the area very carefully, I thought that perhaps I had remembered the wrong window so I checked the area around the other windows several times as well.  Finally, after about 10 minutes of very careful searching, I found my bike in a different area.  Apparently, when necessary, lot attendants reorganize the bikes—sometimes even moving bikes from one end of the lot to the other. 

Gone Forever

At the local market, I wrapped my bike lock around the frame and front tire of my bike and set about shopping for the party that I had planned later that night.  Later, with about ten pounds of groceries in hand, I found that my bike was nowhere to be seen.  I described my bike to the nearest vendor and asked if he had seen it. 

“Did you lock it?” he asked.

“Of course,” I said. 

“No, did you lock it?” he repeated.

“Yes!” I replied, a little impatiently. 

“Show me how.”

Feeling like he was treating me condescendingly for being a foreigner, I briskly made the motions of wrapping a lock around the frame and tires.

“No,” he said, “that’s not locking it.”  Grabbing ahold of a water pipe and circling it with his other arm, he said, “You have to lock it.”

I later found out that bike theft is rampant in my city.  Some people have had up to three bikes stolen in the last year—even from right outside their businesses in broad daylight.  It is so bad that one person even suggested that if I cannot park in a paid lot with an attendant, I should not even stop.