After a long work week, taking a trip outside of Chengdu seemed like a good idea, and some of the students had suggested we go to some famous gardens outside of the city. After waking up at 8:00 on Saturday to meet the others at 8:30 so that we could have enjoy a long day at the park, I promptly realized that I had left my camera in the office. The office was on the way to the meeting point so I figured that this would not be too much of a problem. To my disappointed surprise both of the elevators in the building were out of service. After running up and down 11 flights of stairs, I had retrieved my camera and was ready for the trip, although I was 10 minutes late to the meeting point. It was worth being late because the trip would include some great photo opportunities, and I no longer felt cold on a chilly morning!
I have to digress for a moment here to note that Chinese people (or at least my friends) are always on time or early. If I was in college and my friends and I had tried to execute a similar plan, there would be no chance of us leaving on time. This is confirmed by leaving late for many Frisbee tournaments after running through the freshman dorms waking people up.
After an inauspicious start, we quickly caught a bus, and after thirty minutes we transferred buses at a central station. The central station was crowded and noisy even at 9 AM on a Saturday. Forty five minutes later we arrived at the gardens only to find that they were temporarily closed due to damage from the Wenchuan earthquake. Although this was disappointing, there were still a bunch of things to see in the area. Before beginning our walking tour we sat down at a restaurant for some tea, fruit, and nuts.
The restaurant was quiet and in the beginning we were the only group there. The surroundings were composed of plants and water systems with old Chinese style roofing covering the stone paths that wandered around the area. I didn’t realize how loud the city of Chengdu was and how pleasant taking a break from car horns, jack hammers, screeching breaks, and the other parts of the cacophony of city noises would be. This was the first time I had felt truly relaxed in a long time.
After our mid-morning snack, we walked around the area. The part of the park that was open was quite scenic. First it started out with a long path lined on both sides with Ginko trees, whose foliage was pale yellow, and red lanterns hanging in the air. At various points on the cement path there were reliefs depicting ancient scenes and figures. At the end of the path there was a large open space with a centrally located sundial (although it was too cloudy to use). After the sundial, we came up to a large building whose structure captured the feelings of an ancient palace, although it is actually used by the local community for gatherings and performances. The architecture followed the theme of ancient China with twin lion stone statues guarding the entrance: two massive red doors adorned with golden knobs.
After exiting the building on the other side, we found an upscale community composed of beautiful old Chinese style buildings. Although a local guard lazily attempted to stop us from entering the area, we circumvented his line of sight in order to view the interior roads of the small community. The buildings were beautiful and peaceful. The roads were open and there were few people walking around. Waterways were effortlessly integrated with the area, as was the theme of old Chinese buildings and architecture. More statues and reliefs covered the walls and guarded ornate entrances and exits to local homes. Behind the homes was a small park with a river and a man-made waterfall.
The feeling was serene although not devoid of energy, with much joking among my Chinese classmates. It felt great to get outside the city and be in a beautiful place reminding me of visiting the ocean when I was in Boston. Being in a foreign country and doing lots of work builds up stress in subtle (or sometimes not so subtle) ways. I felt like layers of stress were falling off of me as I walked around and listened to running water.
After walking around the small community, we returned to the restaurant by the entrance of the park for more tea, snacks, and lunch. Lunch was followed by some simple games and more snacking (I must have eaten a hundred sunflower seeds). By the end of the day, everybody was feeling good, and it was truly a shame to return to the city, but this small vacation, like all vacations, could last only so long.
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thanksgiving
Happy Thanksgiving to all! I hope you enjoyed time with your families and a good food (Stan, I hope they didn’t mess up the turkey this year).
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday for two core reasons. The first is that Thanksgiving is secular in nature and not related to the military, the government, or any other specific group. In a time when holidays are distorted to serve the agenda of the media and the economy (Xmas, halloween etc.), or sometimes used to empower governmental or political beliefs, Thanksgiving has remained for the most part impervious to such cultural acid rain. The second reason I love Thanksgiving is for what it embodies. Undoubtedly, Thanksgiving means different things to different people, but to me it is a chance to pause and reflect on the vast opportunity that being alive poses to all humans. It is a reminder of the inherent goodness of life, and a chance to slow down and meditate on the gifts that we have received and continue to receive in our experience.
Partaking in Thanksgiving in another country was quite different from normal. Several people did know that it was Thanksgiving, and they did say “happy Thanks day” or something to that effect. It was hard being alone in my understanding of the holiday, and despite these attempts by my friends to express their happiness for me, I felt pretty depressed throughout the day. With the exception of when I was feverish and my insides were fulminating, it was the most homesick I have been. I kept reminding myself I had told my parents that I demanded a Thanksgiving dinner in the summer, or whenever I returned to the United States (my father assured me that they still had turkeys in the summer). The main problem was the physical withdrawal from the Thanksgiving food. I was pretty successful at compartmentalizing my emotional feelings, but the hunger for stuffing and turkey has not left my bowels even at this very moment. Of course when I start thinking about those little onions bobbing up and down in a boiling cream sauce, or the gravy drenched mash potatoes, my mind inevitably turns to my home, my family, and the other people that also put in time and effort to make both the meal and my family what they are.
I did discover, however, that perhaps I was channeling the true spirit of Thanksgiving when I did finally decide to celebrate it by going out to dinner with two of my friends in Chengdu. Only after the meal did I realize that in fact, the spirit of Thanksgiving had been with me on my entire trip in Chengdu. The first Thanksgiving was a feast to celebrate the bountiful harvest of 1621 after a harsh winter which left many of the pilgrims dead. It is thought, however, that none of the pilgrims would have survived that first winter without the help of the natives. I feel the same way about my trip to Chengdu. Without the help of the “natives” I would have had little hope in establishing a happy living and working situation. I could list hundreds of instances in which a local’s help has been invaluable, and I have covered some already such as getting an appropriate apartment contract and being shown around the city. In many ways, my dinner last night carried the spirit of those first pilgrims and the Native Americans that kept them alive in harsh conditions. I had an opportunity to share good food with good people that were instrumental in my ability to build a successful life in a foreign place. There have been many instances in my short time in Chengdu where I have done just that, eaten food with new friends that have helped me to craft my own existence in an admittedly nuanced and unexplored world. I hope to continue to hold on to that cooperative spirit and to flesh out my feelings of thanks in order to convey them to those who have helped me. I only hope that one day they can come and join me in my home for some turkey and stuffing.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday for two core reasons. The first is that Thanksgiving is secular in nature and not related to the military, the government, or any other specific group. In a time when holidays are distorted to serve the agenda of the media and the economy (Xmas, halloween etc.), or sometimes used to empower governmental or political beliefs, Thanksgiving has remained for the most part impervious to such cultural acid rain. The second reason I love Thanksgiving is for what it embodies. Undoubtedly, Thanksgiving means different things to different people, but to me it is a chance to pause and reflect on the vast opportunity that being alive poses to all humans. It is a reminder of the inherent goodness of life, and a chance to slow down and meditate on the gifts that we have received and continue to receive in our experience.
Partaking in Thanksgiving in another country was quite different from normal. Several people did know that it was Thanksgiving, and they did say “happy Thanks day” or something to that effect. It was hard being alone in my understanding of the holiday, and despite these attempts by my friends to express their happiness for me, I felt pretty depressed throughout the day. With the exception of when I was feverish and my insides were fulminating, it was the most homesick I have been. I kept reminding myself I had told my parents that I demanded a Thanksgiving dinner in the summer, or whenever I returned to the United States (my father assured me that they still had turkeys in the summer). The main problem was the physical withdrawal from the Thanksgiving food. I was pretty successful at compartmentalizing my emotional feelings, but the hunger for stuffing and turkey has not left my bowels even at this very moment. Of course when I start thinking about those little onions bobbing up and down in a boiling cream sauce, or the gravy drenched mash potatoes, my mind inevitably turns to my home, my family, and the other people that also put in time and effort to make both the meal and my family what they are.
I did discover, however, that perhaps I was channeling the true spirit of Thanksgiving when I did finally decide to celebrate it by going out to dinner with two of my friends in Chengdu. Only after the meal did I realize that in fact, the spirit of Thanksgiving had been with me on my entire trip in Chengdu. The first Thanksgiving was a feast to celebrate the bountiful harvest of 1621 after a harsh winter which left many of the pilgrims dead. It is thought, however, that none of the pilgrims would have survived that first winter without the help of the natives. I feel the same way about my trip to Chengdu. Without the help of the “natives” I would have had little hope in establishing a happy living and working situation. I could list hundreds of instances in which a local’s help has been invaluable, and I have covered some already such as getting an appropriate apartment contract and being shown around the city. In many ways, my dinner last night carried the spirit of those first pilgrims and the Native Americans that kept them alive in harsh conditions. I had an opportunity to share good food with good people that were instrumental in my ability to build a successful life in a foreign place. There have been many instances in my short time in Chengdu where I have done just that, eaten food with new friends that have helped me to craft my own existence in an admittedly nuanced and unexplored world. I hope to continue to hold on to that cooperative spirit and to flesh out my feelings of thanks in order to convey them to those who have helped me. I only hope that one day they can come and join me in my home for some turkey and stuffing.
Mamahuhu
This oft used Chinese idiom literally translates as “horse horse tiger tiger”. The meaning, however, is that an experience is just so-so. If you were to ask me how my second week in China was going, I would probably answer: horse horse tiger tiger. Personally, I feel as though this idiom is offensive to horses and the tigers as neither species in their respective fluidity and power elicits the connotation of ok or merely all right. But personal feelings about animals aside, this week has been a mixed bag.
Physically, this week was an ill-fated adventure. After spraining my ankle last Friday while getting a rebound and summarily landing on top of a teammates foot, I was willing to except a lazy week with little exploration and lots of sitting. Little did I know that a viral equivalent to bacterial traveler’s diarrhea was lurking in my future. I’ll spare you the details of my fever and diarrhea which started on Monday and lasted for 5 days. Basically, it involved me sitting around trying to force myself to eat and having trouble maintaining my body temperature. Finally I felt bad enough that I went to the hospital where they informed me that I had a virus and they couldn’t do anything about it…
I think it is more important to go onto other topics such as my discovery of peanut-butter and a famous dumpling house. Retrospectively, it makes sense that I hadn’t seen any dumplings anywhere. I was subconsciously hoping that at one of the dinners with my Chinese friends they would order some things that I didn’t recognize and a pile of Sichuan specialty pork dumplings would come out accompanied by beautiful women and free beer, but it wasn’t to be. This is of course because dumplings are in fact, a specialty, and you have to go to a special place to find them! I mentioned in passing to a couple of friends that I wanted to try and find a restaurant with good jiaozi (dumplings), and five minutes later we were in a dumpling house. The house consisted of three floors, the bottom a cafeteria like area, the second primarily for tea drinking, and the third for Majong. The dumpling menu was extensive, and I demanded pork dumplings (go with what you know right?). The result was 6 bowls of various pork dumplings for the four of us. The local specialty zhongshuijiao, consisted of pork, garlic, and salt wrapped in a shell and steamed. They were served in a spicy vinegar-soy based sauce with the Sichuan style additions of oil and hot peppers. The other two varieties had a different shell and the additions of scallions and mushrooms respectively. As many of you know, there is nothing like a well made dumpling to soothe the soul. This was by far the most satisfying meal I have had in China. I even went so far as to comment to one of my friends that “this had made the trip to China worth it”. The funny part about that statement is I was fairly serious. I mean if didn’t find good dumplings then this whole experience was pretty much a waste of time right? As for the peanut-butter, I had looked for this to no avail the last time I visited the TRUST mart (supermarket), but this time I had to the good fortune of stumbling upon the foreign foods aisle. Although it was disappointingly small, I was able to find both peanut-butter and jelly, and spaghetti as a bonus. Needless to say, I promptly consumed 8 PB and J sandwiches over the next 12 hours 8.5 of which I was sleeping. Despite a minor stomach ache (nothing like last week though, my goodness), life was good again in Chengdu.
Physically, this week was an ill-fated adventure. After spraining my ankle last Friday while getting a rebound and summarily landing on top of a teammates foot, I was willing to except a lazy week with little exploration and lots of sitting. Little did I know that a viral equivalent to bacterial traveler’s diarrhea was lurking in my future. I’ll spare you the details of my fever and diarrhea which started on Monday and lasted for 5 days. Basically, it involved me sitting around trying to force myself to eat and having trouble maintaining my body temperature. Finally I felt bad enough that I went to the hospital where they informed me that I had a virus and they couldn’t do anything about it…
I think it is more important to go onto other topics such as my discovery of peanut-butter and a famous dumpling house. Retrospectively, it makes sense that I hadn’t seen any dumplings anywhere. I was subconsciously hoping that at one of the dinners with my Chinese friends they would order some things that I didn’t recognize and a pile of Sichuan specialty pork dumplings would come out accompanied by beautiful women and free beer, but it wasn’t to be. This is of course because dumplings are in fact, a specialty, and you have to go to a special place to find them! I mentioned in passing to a couple of friends that I wanted to try and find a restaurant with good jiaozi (dumplings), and five minutes later we were in a dumpling house. The house consisted of three floors, the bottom a cafeteria like area, the second primarily for tea drinking, and the third for Majong. The dumpling menu was extensive, and I demanded pork dumplings (go with what you know right?). The result was 6 bowls of various pork dumplings for the four of us. The local specialty zhongshuijiao, consisted of pork, garlic, and salt wrapped in a shell and steamed. They were served in a spicy vinegar-soy based sauce with the Sichuan style additions of oil and hot peppers. The other two varieties had a different shell and the additions of scallions and mushrooms respectively. As many of you know, there is nothing like a well made dumpling to soothe the soul. This was by far the most satisfying meal I have had in China. I even went so far as to comment to one of my friends that “this had made the trip to China worth it”. The funny part about that statement is I was fairly serious. I mean if didn’t find good dumplings then this whole experience was pretty much a waste of time right? As for the peanut-butter, I had looked for this to no avail the last time I visited the TRUST mart (supermarket), but this time I had to the good fortune of stumbling upon the foreign foods aisle. Although it was disappointingly small, I was able to find both peanut-butter and jelly, and spaghetti as a bonus. Needless to say, I promptly consumed 8 PB and J sandwiches over the next 12 hours 8.5 of which I was sleeping. Despite a minor stomach ache (nothing like last week though, my goodness), life was good again in Chengdu.
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