Expanding horizons

A few weeks ago, I went overland to Hong Kong with 3 other teachers. This meant taking a 15-minute taxi ride to the border crossing and then about an hour riding metro trains and one bus to the starting point for our hike. Before I came to China, I had pictured Hong Kong as a bubbling, crowded mass of humanity and tall buildings on a very small island, but I’ve discovered to my delight that I was wrong. In fact, the Island also has miles of hiking trails, scenic views of the surrounding islands and lovely beaches. We hiked the Dragon Back trail, a windswept ridge with stunning scenery to either side. After a couple of hours we descended to "Big Wave Bay" and felt we could be in a beach town anywhere in the world. Surfboard rental shops, dudes with tanned skin, tattoos, and salt-blown hair, greasy spoon restaurants with upstairs decks where you can sit and drink beer and relax forever in the ocean breezes, the proprietor looking as if he now lived in shorts and sandals after retiring from a stressful life somewhere else. After lunch, we changed into swim suits and I charged straight into the waves with whoops of joy! We spent the rest of the afternoon there until dusk (always around 6 in the tropics) and made our way back home, tired and happy.

Since I didn't write about that trip right away, I'm including two for the price of one in this post. Expanding my horizons recently, I ventured over to Macau for the day. As with the ferry to Hong Kong, this was an easy one-hour trip. I left my house just 20 minutes before sailing time, walked 5 minutes to the terminal, paid $35 round-trip, cleared customs, and got on board. Shekou is on a peninsula; the Hong Kong ferry heads slightly northeast, winding around the New Territories, whereas the Macau ferry travels west across the South China Sea before it meets the huge Pearl River estuary. You can actually see the line in the water where it changes from blue-green to muddy brown.

I probably should've copied some information off the internet before I went, but I trusted to the tourist office and traveller's luck to make it an interesting day. As it is, I will definitely go back again to see some of the sights I missed. I refused an offer from a taxi driver in the terminal for a 2-hour tour; instead, I took a bus into the center of town. Macau has an interesting history, some of which I learned at the Maritime Museum. I hadn't realized how pagan parts of China were, but the local people still worship "A-Ma," goddess of seafarers before the Portuguese got there with their Catholic saints; hence, "A-Ma Gao," or home of A-Ma, became "Macau." The Maritime Museum described several festivals celebrated there, including "Festival of the Hungry Ghosts," which built on Buddhism, and the "Drunken Dragon Festival," where men parade through the streets with dragon heads, drinking copious amounts of alcohol and blessing the fishermen.

Across from the museum is A-Ma's temple, which is built against the rocks and doesn't have an inside, just a series of altars alongside the trail where people burned incense and prayed. Outside, I bought mango ice cream from an old man with a cart, and wandered some more. I tried my luck at the slot machines at the garish Hotel Lisboa, but it was all in Chinese and I had trouble knowing what to do. I kept walking, went in and out of restaurants looking at menus until I settled on vegetable curry at the friendly "Now" cafe, and bought a book at a bookstore since there aren't any English language bookstores in Shekou. I didn't find some of the places I was hoping to see, but I loved the colonial architecture and the chance to see such a different place.

When I boarded the 8:45 ferry to go home, it was still warm, though today feels like it has finally cooled off. I hope this brief description gives you some picture of my adventurous day.

Hong Kong

I went that day just because I could. It was overcast as I left my apartment around quarter to 10, but it often is, so I didn't think about taking an umbrella or even a hat. A 10-minute walk brought me to the ferry terminal, where I bought my ticket and shuffled through customs along with the crowd of mostly Chinese. Since it is difficult for the average Chinese citizen to even get a passport, I'm told, they may have been Hong Kong residents. I wish I had more courage to try to strike up conversations. I'm reading "Riding the Iron Rooster" by Paul Theroux, about his travels by train through China in the late '80s, and I realize that he had so many stories precisely because he wasn't afraid to start talking to anyone.

So I sat and marveled out the window instead for the one-hour trip. It is both faster and cheaper to take a bus to the border and the metro from there, but much easier to take the ferry, so I wanted to try it at least once. The picture doesn't capture much but it's a fast boat so you can't stand out on deck. There are a lot of hilly islands scattered all around here, something like the coast of Washington. Once we got inside Hong Kong's harbor we started to see bridges, skyscrapers and new construction going on. It surprised me that most of the island is unpopulated, and there are good walking trails all over the place.

When I got off the boat and through customs on the other side, I was glad to discover a covered walkway above the road along the harbor. Pedestrian bridges head off at intervals to different buildings-they have really planned for all the rain they get. I found the "travelator," which is a long covered escalator that climbs the hill from the harbor. In the morning it runs downhill but the rest of the day it rises to an area called "mid-levels."

My goal for the day was just to wander, so my first stop was at a little cafe for a perfectly toasted bagel with butter and Bonne Maman jam and a divine cup of coffee with my own little pitcher of hot milk. I rode the travelator from street to streeet, vaguely looking for a used books store someone had told me about, but only found a fancy-looking chain one. While in there, I heard a store clerk explaining to a customer how to get to the Victoria Peak tram, so I listened in since it was something I wanted to explore. We ended up trying to find it together, and he turned out to be a priest from France, visiting friends. So we walked in the rain and talked about the things that travelers talk about.

The tram reminded me of a cable car in San Francisco, and probably comes from about the same era. It was quite a steep angle, and I'm sure in good weather it provides stunning views. At the top, we peered out the windows into the mist and imagined what it would look like. There were lots of fancy shops and restaurants at the top, but after a fruit smoothie, it was time for me to head back to catch a 3 pm ferry.

It was a brief trip, but at least it gave me an idea of what to expect, and I look forward to going back and spending more time. I'll keep you all posted.

Yangshuo

I'm hopeless as a photographer, never thinking that my photos will capture the true magic of a moment, as these feeble attempts prove. I also feel conflicted about why I'm taking them; how many times do any of us go back and look at our photos of memorable places? I bought some postcards that do a much finer job, and besides, my Olympus told me to change the batteries even though I'd just changed them recently, so I gave up and left my camera in the room. Still, on the best day of my trip, the couple that I met and went biking with offered to take my picture from the top of Moon Hill, which we climbed, and I will post that when they send it to me.

Picture your stereotypical Chinese landscape with rice paddies, water buffalo, and wizened old men and women wearing conical straw hats and carrying twin baskets suspended from bamboo poles across their shoulders. The terrain here is "karst," limestone rock that was once at the bottom of a sea. Much of it has been eroded over time, leaving a surreal landscape of spires, pinnacles and caves that look like children's drawings of mountains. After a marvelous day of riding around country roads, I ended with an hour and a half float on a raft made of 10 bamboo poles lashed together, about 10 feet long, sitting in a chair in the middle with my bicycle lying behind me and the boatman standing at the end poling us along the shallow river. The weather was perfect, a relief from the heat of Shekou, and late in the day the sun was setting behind the conical hills. Although the area in general was quite crowded with Chinese and western tourists alike since this week is a national holiday, it was incredibly peaceful on the river.

Good company

I've always embraced spontaneity as a key element in my life. It relates to what I was writing about last time; being open to whatever presents itself in the moment keeps me from sinking into numbing routines. Of course, it can bring its own set of problems, but I think I've been particularly fortunate in that it has mostly brought great richness to my life. And living in a new place invites lots of fresh opportunities.

Yesterday, I was wandering around on the web, looking into travel plans for the break coming up at the end of this month, and I found a notice in a local ex-pat site from someone giving away a kitten. They responded to my email right away, and several hours later I was waiting in front of my school for them to show up. As seems to happen often here, 2 other couples were passing by, and they were so excited they decided to wait with me. So not only did I have the joy of getting a new kitty, but friends to share it with. Rose had her 2 little girls with her, and 3 year old Talinn erupted in giggles of excitement at seeing the kitty, so they all trooped up to my apartment to help get her settled in. The other couple, Justin and Sarah, live next door, with 2 small cats of their own.

I had planned to go to Hong Kong on my own today because I'm anxious to see for myself what it's like. Even though traveling by myself isn't the thrill it once was, I won't let that stop me from going wherever I want. (The teacher I'd planned to go with today got sick.) But now I think I'll stay close to Sweetie and make sure she feels comfortable here. Rose and the girls said they'd come over for a visit. And besides, there's a group going hiking on Hong Kong Island next weekend, and always a lot more opportunities, if I'm open to them.

Sunday Musings

In a sense, my "real" life is in the states and this time overseas is a kind of pleasant fiction I get to live for awhile. Not that it's all pleasurable; the heat and the cockroaches in my kitchen are real enough, and I still have to wash dishes and buy groceries and go to work every day. It's just that the "everyday" is so far outside of my range for "normal." It's not hard to understand why some people choose to live as ex-pats for long periods of time; even at its most mundane, life overseas calls on you to stay awake. No matter how many times you see them, those barbecued chicken feet remind you that this isn't Kansas anymore, and you marvel at the whole thing all over again. And isn't that what so many of us complain about? That life seems to be just passing us by in an endless procession of routines?

Please understand, I'm not suggesting that those of you reading this blog should pack up right now and head for the far shores, or that I have a leg up on anyone because I've chosen this path. I titled this entry "Sunday Musings" because that's what it is and reflects what I'm thinking about right now. It's a subject that occupies my thoughts often: what is it that gives meaning to people's lives? What keeps any of us going even when what we're doing doesn't seem particularly meaningful?

Now I can see that I'm about to get myself in way too deep, and I consider whether to abandon this post or go ahead and publish it for what it's worth. Writing a blog is a curious exercise in revealing what is normally a private diary, and I struggle constantly with how much to leave in and what is better left unsaid.

Environment

In some ways, China is actually ahead of us environmentally. They passed a law this June that stores must charge for plastic bags, and as a result each market dutifully sells large canvas bags with slogans like "For a better world." There are trash cans on the street, and outside of a few cigarette butts, the streets are pretty clean. Everything gets recycled, since there are poor people who make their living going through the trash and salvaging everything they possibly can. I don't know what pollution controls are in place for vehicles, but I haven't seen black exhaust coming out of any busses, cars or trucks, which I did notice, surprisingly, in Bellingham this summer. And check out those bike lanes! There are trees lining all of the streets around here and quite a few parks, so it helps to cool off this already hot "footprint." 30 years ago, this area was a sleepy fishing village, and today the entire Shenzhen region is home to 11 million people.

The first time I walked into the Park & Shop, the grocery store attached to the school, I thought that something was rotten. Didn't take too long to figure out it was the infamous durian fruit! It's a bit larger than a cantaloupe and covered in sharp spikes, but I haven't had the stomach to buy one and experiment, so I can't tell you if it's as delicious as some people say. I also loved the looks of the dragon fruit, though I haven't been brave enough to try that either. Right now, I'm playing it pretty conventionally in my diet, too, and willing to pay more to buy familiar foods like bread, cheese, peanut butter, yoghurt, spaghetti, and familiar vegetables, but I do have an "ayee" ( housecleaner) who comes in once a week, and she cooks some tofu and noodle dishes to last me a few days.

My first week of school was chaotic, but I think I'll save that for another post. The important thing is that by Friday afternoon I was able to start breathing a little easier, and a foot massage and beer with other teachers after work definitely helped put things into perspective!

As the Typhoon Turns

24 hours ago, both apprehensive and excited, I was wondering what my first typhoon experience would be, but since it wasn't supposed to hit full force until late afternoon and school was canceled, there was a giddy feeling among the teachers who had gathered at S'bucks. After lunching on an authentic Subway tuna sandwich, I went to visit Carla and Randal next door to wait it out, and eventually the group swelled to include 3 other teacher couples with young children from their building and one other single woman. As happens, the men somehow ended up escaping from the noise to drink beer in someone's apartment upstairs, until the moms decided to stage a coup and call them back. By this time it was 4 in the afternoon, and though it was dark, windy, and blowing rain, it was still safe enough for the girls to walk down the street for massages. We split into 2 groups; the ones who wanted the more social-talk-and-drink-beer experience went for foot massages, while 3 of us opted for "hair wash."

I know that China will bring many unique and unexpected experiences; this is certainly the first, which I expect to revisit many times. For about $5 each, we stretched out on our backs on red plastic couches in a row. Our heads rested on small platforms suspended over wash basins and for the next half hour we drifted off into private reveries while we had shampoos and massages on our heads, neck, face and shoulders. After wrapping towels around our heads, covers were placed over the basins and the massage proceeded on arms and legs. We turned over and had our backs worked over, too. The final stage was in front of the stylists' mirrors, where they dried and styled our hair.

Back on the street, now dark at 6 :30, but still with no serious signs of the typhoon, I was ready to say goodnight to my new friends and go home, even though the group plans were continuing with dinner at someone's apartment. I went home for awhile and wrestled with my natural inclination to limit social interaction. I'm always reluctant to divide the world into "There are 2 kinds of people..." but in this case I think it's valid, so bear with me when I say there are those who will understand my hesitation and those who won't. You know who you are, and it may be an impossible task to explain to those in the opposite camp. This time I decided to push myself, so I walked down the street to buy a bottle of chardonnay from Chile and a big Cadbury's chocolate bar as my contribution to the group dinner.

Since I was the last one to leave at nearly midnight, it was clearly the right decision to make. I'm from a different generation than these women, and I've never had kids, yet our conversations were meaningful and connecting, and I'm very glad of the friendship. I'm reading a book called "The Art of Travel" by Alain de Botton, and he emphasizes the value of travel for taking oneself outside the realm of the ordinary and everyday. All of the teachers here know this intrinsically, and it gives us a shared foundation from which to begin, even if it's never talked about directly.

The typhoon veered and didn't hit Shekou, but it nonetheless shook up my usual perspective and blew in some fresh opportunities.

No school

This was supposed to have been the first full day of school, but they made the decision to cancel it today because typhoon Nuri is headed directly for us. At 10:30 in the morning, there are about a dozen teachers in S'bucks, and it is windy and cloudy outside, but nothing serious; the typhoon isn't supposed to be here until late this afternoon and for now it feels like a holiday.

My class, in the half day that I got to spend with them, looks lively but mostly well-behaved. I have sweet Korean girls with English names like Helen and Phoebe and Charlene, and 3 Korean boys with difficult names like Dong Hyun, Jun Ho, and Yoong Jun (as near as I can recall). Things were chaotic and somewhat frustrating yesterday because of the lack of supplies, but I'm hoping that it will all get sorted out soon.

As I sit here looking out at the square, I wonder how bad the winds will get, and how much of what I see will still be intact after the storm. Palm tree fronds can turn into flying daggers in the wind, and all those potted plants could become rolling cannonballs, but I will be safely home by then. I will post the aftermath when I'm back here again (I can't get DSL at home right now because I should've applied before I turned my passport in for the work visa, so now it may be another few weeks.) As they say here, TIC (This is China...)

Day 6

Impressions along my daily walk to S'bucks for coffee & internet connection...it is assaultingly hot here in the tropics, and it will take me some time to get used to alternating between bathed in sweat and chilled in air conditioned buildings. On the 7 minute walk here, there are shade trees lining most of the way, reliably 5 beggars seated on the sidewalks with deformed limbs who call out cheerfully and hopefully as people pass by, hardly any garbage, men and women carrying umbrellas against the heat, and a mix of apartment buildings, banks, shops, parks, and restaurants. My building is 8 floors tall; those nearby are similarly scaled, but a few more blocks in any direction reveal much taller office and apartment towers. We are both an expat center and a small red-light district, with pocket-sized bars scattered around with names like Lovers, FUBAR, and Cherry Foam. The action seems to take place mostly within these discreet little spots, though I have seen small groups of women sitting out on the sidewalk in the early evening hours playing cards to pass the time.

This has been such a lazy Sunday, arising late and watching a program about China's first emperor on the Discovery channel. I think I'm still tired from sunburning yesterday on a staff trip to a beach about an hour from Shekou. The water was warm, no waves, with unidentifiable bits of stuff floating in the water and a net stretched across the shallow bay to keep out sharks. I swam for a little while but mostly sat under an umbrella, feeling mindless.

Next week we have 3 days of meetings and preparation, then a half day of school on Thursday and a full day on Friday. This school is huge, with over 750 students, 100 teachers and support personnel, and 3 different buildings. It is amazing to watch all the pieces starting to more or less fall together, and a little overwhelming at moments to feel like one of those little pieces.

Coffee at Starbucks

As I was leaving Bellingham, the wild blackberries in the fields near my home were barely starting to ripen, and the part of me that wanted to stay in the cool, green Northwest ached for a few more days just to taste them at their sweetest. I left Bellingham after midnight on Saturday, with boxes and brooms and unpacked clothes that my dear brother will have to pack away for me still littering the floor. I drove my car to Seattle, no time left to sleep, and called a taxi to take me to the airport. Both flights were uneventful, which is the best anyone can say of air travel, and when I landed at Hong Kong airport Monday night, there was a van driver to whisk me to Shekou, and Britt, the school director, to meet me at my new apartment.
This is Wednesday morning, so I've been here only one full day and there's already much to write about, but I just wanted to get this brief note out to say that I've arrived. The people are friendly, and everyone at the school has been very helpful. I'm just 5 minutes' walk to school down a shaded street; the S'bucks is another 5 minutes more. I went to Ikea yesterday with my friends from Baku, Carla and Randal, and fitted out my apartment for now. The view of the harbor and Hong Kong beyond from my 8th floor window is fantastic! I'm out of batteries for my camera but will send a shot very soon, I promise.

Walking down the street yesterday, I stopped at a fruit cart where a man offered me a small round brown fruit that may have been a lychee. He peeled back the skin to reveal translucent flesh and I bit in, but I didn't like the strange bitter taste, so I bought bananas instead. It is hot and humid here but very lush and green, and for now, new flavors will have to take the place of beloved blackberries.