Monday, March 24, 2008

February 20th 2008



An auspicious day in China - Josh D Wiens, random of all randoms, put down his little cheese sandwich of pickles and Dijon mustard - looked me in the face and said, "Mya? Mya, will you marry me?" I kid you not. I would have regarded this as just a random musing but for the look of absolute astonishment on his face for having asked a question that had been bubbling in him for some time. OF COURSE, I said yes! We waltzed around the room in a daze which later ended in tears (on my part) that we could not share this joyous burden of great news with those we were most dear. (If I have ever felt homesick before it was nothing compared to the agony of being far away when there is GOOD news to tell!) It actually took us about 3 days before we broke down and talked to my parents (Josh is a nervous bundle - showered and collared for the skyping occasion) and then got a hold of his parents that had just returned from a game park in the middle of Kenya. After that, it became a real occasion with a set date and the reality of our decision pulling our dreams out of the air and making them walk and talk.
So we are engaged - here are two pictures of our cute funny faces in Qingdao China and imitating a picture we found in a Tibetian tea house in LiJiang China.

Currently, I am continuing my teaching at Harbin Institute of Technology - adjusting to new classes and new times which are mostly in the evening (hard for my morning inclined self). I now teach a Historical Survey of British Literature course which causes me anxiety but also increasing bliss as I get to actually read literature for WORK! Josh, the lucky one, is now living on a lovely farm in South Central China in the province of Sichuan - learning about big time organic farming in China - working with laughing ladies - and discovering the trials and tribulations of having no indoor heat in a perpetually damp and rather chilly environment. From what I can tell - it is a pretty amazing experience so far. He will continue to do that until June when we will travel a little more (maybe with my younger brother who will be visiting) and then head back to Canada for all the preparations - including apartment and job searching. (so if you hear of any - write me please!)



HURRAH! The Party will come! See you all there!

Sunday, March 9, 2008

Indonesia

Jakarta (Jan 15th) –
Sitting on a slated wooden bench – backless so I hunch over – ears plugged but happy. Remembering Bahasa Indonesia bit by bit- words come to my lips as I tried to convince the taxi driver that we will take a bus to Gambir stasiun – Josh and I wonder which information is good information (everyone tells us something different). It is about 2am and softly humid. We took out money from a ATM and then proceeded to freak out at the sheer quantity removed until we realized, 50,000 Rupiah is only about $5US. It will take some getting used to; this currency laden with too many zeros.
My childhood rushes back to me like a well-spring within – smooth and joyous bubbling up of familiarity but also confusion. Like coming home in a dream but being unsure why that exact place should be home.
We hope to take a train to Semarang in central Jaya and then bus to Jepara, where Malyssa lives working with MCC in the SALT program, living with a host family and teaching English. Right now we have to wait until a possible arrival of a shuttle bus to the train station, or the decision to take a taxi instead.
Today was a long sort of insubstantial blur of rather odd events. Last night sleep was troubled in the boat like windowless room in the Kowloon area of Hong Kong – an organized but unfamiliar city full of lights and darkness unknown. We were glad to wake up and easily find the A21 bus to the airport for only $33HK each. We sat in the top deck, right at the front like kings in a caravan – sharing bread bits and juice until Josh noticed the, ‘no eating and drinking’ sign and it began to rain – blurring our view.
Hong Kong airport is a huge, organized wealth laden shopping mall-ish island with people from anywhere bearing the often industriously grim mark of ‘rich traveler on route to anywhere but here’. I felt uncomfortable in my grubby runners and hand-made orange shawl, carrying embroidered cloth bag – like a night intruder finding herself in a well-lit house full of – other intruders – made me feel insignificant and unwillingly comical. I looked at Josh and the oddities recede into the comfort of my heart love and closest friend.
We speedily breakfasted on Combo A – Western eggs and toast and the flight to Manila deposited us into a busy other world – leaving us almost 9 hours to discover the day transit lounge of the Pilipino airport. We succumbed to a smiling lady, inviting us to the Manila lounge for the overly tempting price of $15US and all the drink/food/comfy couch we can take until boarding time. Stuffing ourselves, napping and watching the little mouse (or two, who knows) catch our breath as it darts under couch to table like a funny sort of phantom – the time passed quickly and our flight to Jakarta went smoothly, depositing us; sore necked, full tummies and curious-filled on this bench.
Travel to Jepara – Same day
Josh’s head rests on blue pillow and my shoulder – the Argo Muria train clacks and weaves over track past fields of flowing green tended by graceful men and women. Their heads covered by traditional wide coned hats– their arms billowing in worn, loose fitting long sleeves. Now we come to the ocean and the waves crash meters below our steady journey. The wind is strong from behind – as if pushing everything along – no one seems to mind. The sun looks hot, the people thin, the land the birthplace of all that is green.
Bali (Jan 19th) –
Here I sit – hot sun boiling my white skin – hot sand sparkling – white waves with glints of turquoise scoop across the horizon. It is the pervasion of trash that bring you back to the moment – to the day’s reality of waste eating into beautiful spaces. The rainy season brings excess dirt and all the trash thrown carelessly to the ocean and the ocean becomes smaller because it is not a deep abyss that can contain the filth of the world. It is a gentle mighty space that still chokes on the litter thrown at it.
We safely maneuvered through train and bus to Jepara for a happy reunion with Cora and Malyssa then spent 3 days in Jepara with Malyssa’s host family – lots of eating, mandi-ing continuously to wash the sweat away and simple communicating with the 6 year old Fiona – Malyssa’s chattery little host sister. Then, Josh, Cora, Malyssa and I hopped aboard the bis malam (overnight bus) at 4pm yesterday from Salatiga (MCC’s Indonesia headquarters). We slept fitfully, got up at 5am when ferried across from Bali to drink kopi susu (coffee with sweet and condensed milk) and watch the sun rise over the islands – salt wet wind humidifying our brains and faces. Three more hours of driving through Bali island to the other side and we arrived to Kuta Beach, Bali. Paradise beach and piña coladas? Not really. Tourism pervades like a disease and everything (of course) costs money. Vendors are sly and cage about like vultures over dying meat. (Maybe this is a bit harsh.) We ate lunch at Aussie-owned “Sheppy Restaurant” near the beach and then Malyssa and I went on a long journey for a simple swimsuit/hat/water. Everything burns fast in this tropical sun.
Josh and Cora scoped out the beach to find garbagey water and no piña coladas to be had. I get frustrated and sit here on the sand –warding off in coming massages and travel trips – firmly and probably rudely – to write but I tell them, “Saya mau membaca buku!” (I want to read my book!) because I have run out of no’s.
Bali (Jan 21st) –
We found a good place by taking a bus from a small tour company that drove us around to the South East side of Bali to a very small coast town hugging the mountain side. Candi Desa; our oasis. Our driver even found us a very sweet collection of cottages to stay at – I wrote this the first morning after we arrived;
Sitting on the upper porch of our cottage looking at a tiny slice of glorious beauty. Waves crash a little way from the stone barrier, created to maintain a safe harbor for small wooden fishing boats and coral pieces hill up beside them – brought in offering by the ocean. To my left, out on the ocean, four rocks jut into the blue sky creating islands resembling craggy pirate ships – a sail boat slides past them in the morning haze. Above my head is a tightly woven grass-thatch roof and small birds dart around, feet in front of my face, feasting on small insects found there. It is a two story cottage, simple wiring just for a couple lamps, and a bathroom with cold water spurting from a clever clay jar that sits in an open part of the roof – blue sky stretches above you as you shower. The water is clean, clear, warm and the harbor creates a perfect swimming pool in the evening when the tide is high. As soon as we arrived we suited up and headed down for a swim – me, terrified to put my feet down in case of biting things – Josh, a contented sea-angel, needing an anchor to keep him from just drifting out into the blue and joining the mermen in their quest for a watery kingdom. As we sat to watch the sun set over the water, an older man shimmied up several of the coconut (hence the name Kelapa) trees and we feasted, with the hotel staff, on fresh coconut.
Jan 22 (Bali, Candi Desa)
We went snorkeling off the side of two rock islands (the ones we can see from our porch). Breathtaking – battling against the current at times – learning how to breath – when not to breath – the deep taste of salt water ever present – snot smeared into the mask (I have a cold). The sharp pinch in the ears when you dive and, for a moment, become part of the world below. The day was blue – our two boatmen, laid-back smiley fellows, directing us away from the rocks and then just hanging out for an hour or two as we learned to maneuver the flippers and masks. We had purchased a German-made-disposable underwater camera and happily snapped pictures of each other and fish – hoping one or two would turn out.
Arriving home ecstatic, we debriefed over our experience in this other world, munching on various snacks and fresh fruit smoothies. Josh and Malyssa – ready to become career fish watchers – detailed the intricate life of these fish; running errands – going next door to visit the neighbor – popping over to the supermarket to pick up some roast beef for Sunday dinner – etc. And of course, the Wiens fascination with poo-ing fish.
Jan 31st (Hong Kong)
A bit of a jump in days before I had a chance to write again;
Sitting at Charlie Brown Café in Kowloon, an area of Hong Kong. So, Hong Kong, a city of sorts – people of all sorts, food of all sorts, etc. It is highly organized – the MTR and buses run with ease and traffic does not appear to be unreasonable. Things are relatively clean and many parks fill the spaces. Mountains – or actually, green and shaggy hills – rise up, breaking thru the sky scraper line and I feel calmer. The city is built with the earth – not against it. Yet, things are still overwhelming to the senses as the sheer amount of advertising and quantity of things ever for sale, haunts your step and slyly follows you saying “good copies, cheap copies, watches, handbags?” Yet, I feel curious and wish to stay and become a HK norm - To explore and find the hidden gems behind the billboards. The rhythm is a delicious enchantment.
To recap our lasts days in Indonesia: Our last day in Candi Desa we packed and left early with our surprisingly young driver (not the older man we had arranged the drive with). We drove through villages on a day of festival all across Bali. Men and women in traditional dress of sarong and collared shirt – beautiful. We passed through the center of Bali on our way to the north – over the top of an old volcano – a nice view but rather unexciting so we left soon after lunch and found our next bus – hot and sunburnt but only slightly out-of-sorts. We ferried back to Java – again sipping cups of steaming hot kopi susu but this time embracing the sun set.
We arrived a bit crumpled to Yogakarta and found a cheap, only slightly moldy, place to stay. Then we set off with only two eager travel guides tagging along who took us to a batik art school. Batik is a traditional cloth dying technique, using wax pens to draw intricate designs. We pleased our guides by purchasing many pieces of artwork for friend and family. After this, we were all a little zonked out by all our night traveling and, by this time, I was suffering from an earache so we found a local pharmacy and paid almost nothing for prescription drugs. The rest of that day was mostly a blue of shopping and feeling bitten, allergic (Josh’s legs were swollen and red with something) and ear achy.
We went to bed rather too late and woke up rather too early in order to head to a sunrise over Borobudor. Borobudor: a massive pyramid like temple to Buddha built many hundreds of years ago (maybe early 1000AD or something). We wandered in constant fear of being photo-ed, asked questions and followed by eager students wanting to meet the white foreigner. We arrived back to Salatiga (MCC headquarters) weary – hurt – dirty. Dan (the country rep) looked at our wounds, helped us understand the washer, invited us to dinner and then took off. Josh and I washed 3 loads of laundry, which helped settle a lot of traveling consternation. The next day Malyssa and Cora left sadly early – leaving Josh and I feeling unsettled and sorrowful. (Goodbyes are so hard!) Finally, after a long day of train travel and a long night of planes we arrived back to Hong Kong, found a nice hostel, tramped to the library and saw the incredibly cheesy over-done HK light show at Victoria harbor and went to sleep.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Super long super post!

Josh and I have spent the last few days doing just about nothing and thoroughly enjoying cooking our own meals and not having to arrive anywhere to catch anything. It is a nice vacation from our vacation and I am trying to relish the break before heading back to work sometime in the next week or so. It is a bit of a mixed blessing, to work for a school so mysterious that I have no idea when I teach, what I teach or who I teach and will probably not be privy to such information until the time comes when they see fit to inform the teacher of her teaching duties. It leaves me without anything to prepare for so instead I spend my time learning how to relax a bit and retyping my journal entries to share on my blog. Enjoy!

We begin in Guangxi Province in the town of Yangshuo – Josh, Megan (another teacher here at HIT) and I. Our travels begin January 2nd 2008.

Yangshuo (Jan 4th) – *Picture – On Li River boat – Megan, Josh and I

Josh and Megan nap in the neatly clipped grass of the park nearby the very old Banyan tree, a tourist attraction close to Yangshuo that did not necessarily deserve our 18 kuai (Chinese money) and I sat down to write this:
Chewing on sugar cane, sitting in the arm grass, Josh and Megan by my side, the mountain hills of Guanxi province surrounding us like gentle guardians. We are staying in Yangshuo at the West Lily Hotel in a triple bed room with heat that doesn’t work and two comforters to make up the difference. A good hotel find after almost staying in a nearby Youth Hostel with a slightly overbearing guide. We could not have had better weather, although the cold is rather cold due to the humid air that sinks into your bones when the sun departs for the evening. Yesterday we delighted in a boat trip down the Li River through a more uninhabited bit of these otherworldly hills – slipping between lamas, camels, sleeping giants…the river liquid-air beneath a softly purring boat, the driver whistling a tune to match his carefree smile.
Today we took bikes and coasted through the countryside on our way to visit the Banyan Tree and YueLiang Shan (Moon Mountain), becoming overly sentimental by the fresh air and rosy cheeked children living in the yet serene valleys here. I put a quick check on our lofty ideals by driving my bike over the sharp edge into the small canal on the side of the rode, scraping skin and bruising legs, allowing everyone time to realize how much their bums hurt due to the hard and seemingly unyielding bike seats. Thankfully, we arrived at the 1000 year old Banyan tree to refresh ourselves upon boiled corn, noodles and a freshly cut stick of sweet fibrous sugar cane.

Travel to Li Jiang (Jan 6th)

The next entry comes two days later after we had hopped an early morning bus from Yangshuo to the town of Nanning, taxied across a neat looking metropolis to a large and people filled train station to happily emerge from a long wait in line with 3 tickets for a train in an hour, to Kunming of Yunnan Province. We all had a splendid time on the well oiled comfy train, eating dinner in the car full of cheery travelers and cigarette smoke, then sleeping only when forced into our bunks, after the 10pm lights-out curfew. Awakened earlier than we expected, we clambered out to find a bus station with hopes of catching early morning bus to Li Jiang (maybe 8 -10 hours away). We found such bus, unloaded heavy backpacks into its undercarriage, found Chinese breakfast in outdoor canteen and then I wrote this:
White and blue flowers embroider designs directly in front of my face, adorning the small basic chairs in the Li Jiang bus. Meagan and Josh struggle with legs too long in a world manufactured for shorties (such as myself who sits happily comfy). An easy crossword is the entertainment of the moment through Megan zips thru with mind boggling ease leaving Josh and I to puzzle out the odd one or two. The bus fills up with people; babies, grandmothers with ancient faces, young men and women – colorful, bedraggled, simple and honest. Its cold, my fingers stiffen and I consider buying a steaming hot corn cob from the vendor yelling at the front of the bus – his wares displayed in bucket held aloft by strong brown hand. Instead, I sip cold bottle of jasmine tea, feeling chilly though bemused because my curiosity keeps momentary tiredness at bay. We could be at a circus with all the commotion. A yelling man with a cigarette dangling courageously from his lip skuttles in and out, around people with various packages, loud music plays from the small player the young man sitting beside Josh is proud to have produced – cheap classical tunes. We all hope the bus will depart soon, anxious to get to the destination. It is 9am, we have been traveling since yesterday morning – the bus is trying to leave but there is a traffic jam in the bus yard – we are all beginning to feel the effects of traveling, loud music and pressing voices. It is 9:30am – we are still stuck in the bus yard…
Li Jiang (Jan 7th)- *Picture – Looking at Jade Dragon Snow Mountain
So our bus did actually depart to move our intimately packed selves up and away – to mountains and old town of Li Jiang;
I crouch here on a little stool in the small tower pagoda of the rustic hostel – home for the next few days. Yujong Xueshan (Jade Dragon Snow Mountain) rests not far away but directly in my view and the sun shines clear and bold, displaying a sky so blue you could dip your fingers into it. The roofs, jumbling the sky line around me, produce an ancient aura; cow lipped corners upturned in “the old fashion” with an occasional glossy animal figurine resting at the end or middle of the peak – house guardians and good luck ensurers.
The soft breeze is cold, I grasp a covered tea cup to warm my fingers but do not mind so much being away from my two comforter laden bed; cozy indeed but still too hard for my wide hips and softer bed Western upbringing. I am rather crudely hoping this green tea starts things moving in my stuck bowels – constipation is the price one pays for travel and strange food I suppose – and Megan swears by green tea so here I sit and sip.
Last night we arrived off our long bus, happy to be still for a moment. A lady promised us a hostel so we followed her through the maze of narrow streets with cobbled stones smoothed by years of a past peoples treading. The buildings and streets are old but yet, the atmosphere screams modern tourist and the glitz of disneylandia sparkles ominously in every trinket filled shop or restaurant with keepers dressed in traditional Naxi gowns of bright colors – dancing to a music that seems to have been stolen from the dignity of the hills. The Naxi people – 300,000 live here, a minority holding on to its roots in the fragile almost fruitless way by allowing it to become an attraction. Yet, I am a stranger and I do not know – maybe this is the only way? I feel the sorrow that I cannot understand well inside – for the proud glory of a people who mostly remain only in a few stones and that have lost something of their independence – me, a westerner at heart, I cringe to think of lost independence, lost ways. Yet, there is hope for me – a hope that is extended to us – for the mountains and the hills they remember and hold their shape. Yesterday I saw this hope brilliant in an old grandmother with face like bunched up leather, smiling at her full cheeked grandson. Love and memories creased into her face like the wrinkles in the solemn hills we passed. At night I watched them and felt her, wisely tucking the city into bed with full- bodied blue shadows stealing across the valley and over the small dog guarding the roof nearby. Change comes and the new can be garish or serene but still she comes allowing perhaps only the land to remember with all the memories of love and sorrow pressed deep upon it, wearing it down until its Savior comes to renew and bring mighty justice to a fallen world making it whole. That is how I and perhaps she, this old mother, can be at peace and still smile into the red cheeked future, grinning at us like morning from the seat in front.
(Historical Note of Interest gleaned from Lonely Planet China 2005 – Li Jiang old town is the working remains of an ancient city built by the Naxi people (Tibeto-Burman). In 1996 a massive earthquake leveled Li Jiang killing more than 300 and injuring 16,000 but, while most of the new parts of Li Jiang were totaled, the traditional architecture of the Naxi people survived quite well. The Chinese government then spent lots of money rebuilding Li Jiang with the more traditional cobblestone and wood. Also the United Nations, highly impressed by the Naxi architecture, placed Li Jiang County on the World Heritage Site list in 1999 and put a large plaque up in the central square.)
Last Day in Li Jiang (Jan 9th)- Picture * Black Dragon Pond
Our last day in Li Jiang – tonight we take the night sleeper express “busser” (I quote the spelling on the sign) back to Kunming. This morning I woke with the sun – about 8am here – and took off for a walk in the chilly morning. I walked back to Black Dragon Pond – nihaoing to the early rising others also out to catch a bit of exercise in the clean crisp morning. I walked through the park and across/around Elephant Mountain, guarding Black Dragon Pond below, with my face always towards Jade Dragon Snow Mountain – my breathless noble hero. The park ended. I went on past young people waiting for a bus or inspiration or love – just waiting. I found the mountain, standing in glory beside the vegetable patches between tall bushy trees.
We packed – Josh and I wandered around – found temples – bought souvenirs – talked about life. We stopped at Wang Chan Palace and visited a temple – lit incense to watch the young monk, touring us around in a lazy simple fashion, gong the deep bell three times. We left money and gained an odd sense of suspicion or guilt – who knows.
A weathered old man sold us a copy of the Forgotten Kingdom by Peter Guollart and we are currently enjoying milk/yogurt shakes in a little hillside/good view spot that is under roof rehabilitation as we speak. Chunks of concrete rain down a few feet from us but oddly the sense of simple afternoon calm is maintained. Must be the blue sky and lightly warm mountain air that seem to undulate calmness all around.
Yesterday, we rented a shock-less little minivan and froze our way up through the mountains to Tiger Leaping Gorge – 2 ½ hours away. The sun was just coming up – our breath stood still in a cloud before our faces in the morning chill as the Gorge was still in deep shadow. We paid our 65Kuai and headed off – stepping quickly to bring warm blood to frozen toes. It was a well constructed path with long lit tunnels bypassing places with danger of mammoth rocks sliding down to crush innocent sight-seers. Guarding soldiers loitered around in thick green overcoats for our safety or to keep us minding the signs printed with badly translated amusing commands such as, “Notice the rocks slide, please is run about by cliff” and “Forbid throwing the rubbish to the bridge arbitrarily.”
Tiger Leaping Gorge. Inspiring. It is surprisingly deep – 40m average depth of blue clean water which leaps down, becoming a white tiger to surge around a huge boulder. It is the Yangsti river’s chance to come alive. The power overwhelms me and I stand a long moment, mesmerized by the chaos.
We spent the rest of the day driving back home and stopping often to hike about or buy coca-kele from small disorderly stores. The sky remains azure, breaking your heart with its honesty, and the sun drips life blood into the veins. I do not want to leave these mountains.

Kunming – Jan 10th

We arrived in Kunming, capital of Yunnan Province, early this morning after a fitful tight sleep aboard the overnight bus from Li Jiang. Megan, Josh and I were bunched into a three-across bed with me in the narrow middle. Overnight buses support 3 rows of narrow bunk beds, 2 levels high, blankets included with bathroom in the middle. We each took one of Megan’s miracle Thai bought motion-sickness pills and rather passed out, dozing in and out of uncomfortable positions. Thankfully this made the drive pass quickly but we were none too happy to be dumped at the Kunming bus station before the sun had even awaken, leaving us to catch a taxi to the Camilia Hotel – a place recommended to us. Sadly, we arrived at said hotel only to find a disgruntled traveling woman screaming at the desk attendants and when we, hesitantly, inquired for a triple room we were given a very high price – too high for our short budgets. We trudged around, grumpy and laden, to find a nearby place – the price was a bit better but the staff less-than-welcoming and the added bed to the small double room, very uncomfortable.
I was feeling very overwhelmed, out of sorts, so I took a hot shower whilst Megan and Josh napped and then set out in the thickening dawn to a small café I had spied earlier. Now I sit here in cozy ‘City Café’, drinking milky Yunnan coffee, happily surprised by a wonderful breakfast of fried spicy tomatoes, eggs and a thick slice of brown toast. I relax into my book Hearing Birds Fly and am now able to greet the morning appropriately.
Kunming – Jan 13th Picture * Xi Shan
Today we leave Kunming – Josh and I heading to Shenzhen and then Hong Kong to hop our morning flight to Jakarta, Indonesia. Megan leaves for Thailand.
Josh and I have both come down with head colds so we are sniffling about drinking mass quantities of hot water with a comical zeal. We have checked out of our little hotel with the staff that seems always stressed out – staring into their little screens and speaking rapidly to hand held radios. Now we early await apple pie and coffee to celebrate our last day together.
Yesterday Josh took a break and stayed home to sleep and recover leaving Megan and I free to have a rather needed ‘girls day’ – (it has been a bit stressful lately in our 3’s-a-crowd group.) Megan and I left around 11am, caught at No. 5 bus and stepped right off to find a bus to XiShan (Western Mountains) immediately to our left. Pleased, we hopped on to find an amusing couple in charge – smiling swerving man as driver and ponytailed, sunhat topped, rosy cheeked woman yelling out the door with golden voice – searching for potential passengers. San Kuai to XiShan!!! Indeed. We climbed up and around the mountain, winding around hairpin turns and walking people. XiShan contains 12 Taoists palaces to different deities – some carved right out of the rock by a highly devoted monk hanging by fingertips to chisel intricate designs into the mountains. The view is breathtaking – though the breath-less-ness might be attributed to the steep stairs and continuous climbing up to see each palace.
The day before we had paid too much for a car to take us to the puzzling land of the Stone Forest to visit the less known Black Hills, which turned out to be a disaster as we were not allowed into the park. We took a few steps in to a peaceful stone forest looking park and keepers came to shoo us out, then, as we were sullenly debating what to do our driver decided we had finished touring and prepared to take us straight back to Kunming – probably thinking this was a grand deal for him, refusing to take us to the very popular tourist sight we had been trying to avoid due to a 140kuai entrance fee. Tempers certainly flared and grumpies set in but, after losing a good deal of Chinese face (a cultural disaster) he agreed to take us to the other park for no extra.
We arrived, got in for a little less due to non-expiring Student Cards from universities, and sat down to a little picnic – unwinding from our tense encounter to enjoy the amazing sights towering around us like craggy buccaneers. Stone Forest is a puzzling collection of boulders, tall and sharp, that seem to have been belched up by the deep sea and flung around upon a rolling meadow to stand at attention like fingers poking up at the sky. It is surreal and one can get lost within the maze of paths and steps constructed on and around the stones. We trekked as long as possible, frustrated that our taxi driver had insisted we return at an early hour, but then returning on time to find him leisurely washing his car leaving us to sit and wait. Oh how traveling can test the patience!
All in all, as we sit here to drink coffee and munch on flaky apple pie with rich homemade icecream, we agreed our travel together through Southern China was good. Please check out our pictures on my flickr site at www.flickr.com/photos/myawheeler/ Soon, I will post more about the next part of our travels to Indonesia and beyond…so stay tuned dear readers.

Friday, January 4, 2008

Travels

Today Josh, Megan and I head off into the wild blue of the vast land of Asia! We will be traveling with Megan around some epic places in Southern China for about 2 weeks then Josh and I squirrel over to Hong Kong to catch a flight to Indonesia. There we will adventure around with Josh's two sisters, Cora and Malyssa (Malyssa is teaching English there through the SALT program). Two and a half weeks later we will head back to Hong Kong for a bit and then make our crazy way up to Shandong province to spend Chinese New Years with with my student, good friend and Chinese teacher, Fengze. Then home home home. It is intimidating but exciting and I will work my best to find my writing inspiration and leave more bits of news as we go along!

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Christmas

It is Christmas day evening; I am full of sugar, sleepy, worn out. It has been an exhausting couple of weeks with a roller coaster of ups and downs. Last week I gave exams which means giving points and methodically going through each student, asking questions, to try and determine their oral English proficiency (or not). That was and is hard for me – I struggle to put numbers on an experience…arbitrary numbers. This week was Christmas. Perhaps I should say, this month was Christmas and being in a country that does not celebrate Christmas, other than as a good opportunity to hang up overly gaudy tinsel and creepy looking Santas and entice the consumer to buy, is was a very trying month and past week or so. I discovered the Christmas child within; the little Mya that anticipated Christmas with whole hearted mystery, whose Christmas trees held magic and wonder, whose joy of going to Grandma's house was surpassed by no other occasion in the year. It is a unique cultural holiday that contains music, sights, smells, tastes, parties…etc. Yet, give or take all that, the part that I missed the most was the family.

It was my very first Christmas without my mom, dad, brother and sister. Right now, they are all in Denver with the whole group on my mother's side and I remain in China; the only one not there. I spent a lot of the week in tears, contemplating my priorities that often take me away and away and away from those people and places I am slowly learning are the best, the best, and the best of me.

Still, I am glad to say I was not alone, in any sense. I have made new and delightful wondrous friends here. My inbox is packed with little emails wishing me "happy Christmas…most prosperous and good wishes for the new year….happy everywhere," and all other kinds of oddly stated best wishes from all my thoughtful amazing students. Then Sommer and I (she is studying Chinese from Colorado) spent Christmas Eve making supper, chatting the evening away and even reading the Christmas story together. This morning I had Christmas coffee with Yoko and opened presents with Megan, Millie and Bethany. We made lunch together and then ate cinnamon buns I had made (a family tradition). The evening was spent at Sommer's new apartment at a Christmas party of sorts with her classmates and teachers (Russians, Koreans, Chinese, Iranian and us N Americans) just talking in all types of languages and eating everything from cheese to a gingerbread house. At the end of the day I feel full and amazed at the simple goodness around me and so happy to have made even more new friends. Next semester promises to be good!

Yes, made it through Christmas but the question remains on my heart – what do I go away from when I go and what do I gain? It is a heavy one especially as I consider my students, my friends, my relationship with Josh, my bits of Chinese…etc. All these things are good. Being away from Josh has been so difficult but in so many ways so good. I have had a chance to be a teacher and reap the joy that comes from this noble profession. Yet, today my family sits together - crazy and quirky as we all are, all the imperfections and awkwards together - and honestly it breaks my heart to be missing it. Unexplainable really, but I just feel, strong within myself, the desire to just be close.

So this little blog is dedicated to you all; Mom, dad, Nat, Caleb, Aunt Tina, Jesse, Aunt Rachel, Uncle Jay, Jenny, Aunt Betsy, Uncle Bruce, Ellen, Rita (and Sean!), and Grandpa Melvin – I love you and miss you all! Shengdan Kuaile! From China!

Saturday, December 29, 2007

Birthday Photos




24 years and a Visit from Dad

It's funny. The spell check on my word processor does not recognize the word, 'blog.' I wonder if the updated version does…



Monday, sometime after midnight I completed 24 years of being alive in western cultural standard time. In China, because a baby is alive in the mother tummy (so I was told), I would actually say I am in my 25th year. The thick lime green mug in front of me stains my tongue red with an infusion of raspberry goodness; a birthday gift from Bethany. To my left a small bottle of Brer Rabbit Mild Flavor Molasses joins a red balloon with a cut out construction paper stem hoping to pass itself off as a tomato to remind me of my favorite nickname, tomato face, christened to me by Utuq after observing me huffing and puffing after a jog. On my right a happy plant reaches its little arms all directions in a tall dark pot wrapped with ribbon and warmth. All gifts. Gifts from good new friends who took the time to make dinner for me (Megan and Yoko), decorate, invite several others (Gulambar, Utuq, ZouYen, Summer, Bethany) and then laugh over a more than lively game of UNO.


Early in the week I had received a guest also bearing sweet and dear to my heart, tidings and gifts from another continent. My dad came to stay last Thursday evening, taking a train Sunday evening to work on the greenhouse in Hunchun. It was a whirlwind trip of wakefulness at all crazy hours mixed with jetlag naps and bouts of caffeine-laden drinks to stall the sleepy.


All week I prepared and talked about the arrival of my dad with my students, so by the time Thursday rolled around I was even receiving text messages welcoming him here and wishing me happiness (of course). The big question of the day was, how to get to the airport and back? Harbin airport is situated, conveniently, way outside of Harbin to, as one of my students decided, "keep the sound from bothering the city people." (Honestly, I wondered if this construction burden city would even notice a plane flying over.) Figuring it all out took a bit of back and forth. Of course, there was the taxi but then one could be sure of high prices, there was a bus but the last one left from Harbin at 7pm, there was the idea of going and hanging out for 4 hours before my dad arrived but my students then insisted on going to accompany me and I just wasn't sure if that would be so fun (love my students but that is a long wait). Finally, dear Li Peng (from the Hunchun bus trip) came through again and found a car service that would take us and bring us back for a great price! We (because he still insisted upon coming) hopped in and went off for the 40 min trip out because we went the slow- but-cheap route, which bypassed the tollbooth by meandering through some back villages and orchards. In China, some things, like long underwear time, heater turn on time, and time zone in general, are not negotiable and most people simple accept and adjust. Other things, like regulations concerning copy write and obviously overpriced tollbooths are simple put to the side, respectfully but with precision that always brings a smile to my lips.


And so my dear dad arrived, accompanied me to class the next morning to the joy of my favorite students. We were playing Jeopardy review in class and dad was the happy host, whitening his fingers with chalk to keep track of all the points. The most interesting moment was when I brought dad to the foot massage place where he was quite happily surprised (after a bit of apprehension) to have his feet massaged for the first time in his life!


Yes, of course, the stay was too short and Sunday night came before it should have but thankfully my friend Utuq was there to help us maneuver the huge railway station in Harbin. We were able to accompany my dad into the waiting room; a tall ceiling hazy with cigarette smoke, dust and the muted colors of many people packed tight together with various articles of luggage and box, then down to the platform to actually board the train. It is quite the squeeze as the open the doors to go to the platform about 10 minutes before departure so the scramble was a wee bit intense and the send-off overly short, but there he went. I received a message mid morning telling me he arrived safely into the Hunchun farm. Oh dad.