Lotsa Reasons

I mentioned yesterday that we're hoping to land a job in Chengdu for the fall (wish us luck, everyone!).  All through this spring, there's been this feeling that we're not quite done with Asia yet.  Above and below, a few of the reasons for us wanting to stay here.

These pictures were taken at Jane's birthday party back in May, which we celebrated out at our friend's organic farm in the countryside about an hour away from our house.  I never got around to posting them on the blog at the time (you weren't expecting anything chronological anyway, were you?), but they seem quite appropriate to post now.  I could caption them, (short version: the party Rocked!) but I think the pictures tell most of the story...

 



 



 

Sign O' The Times

At the risk of jinxing anything, or sounding a bit foolish or strange, a little Life Situation update may be in order.  A good percentage of our last couple of weeks here at Xihua University has been devoted not to finding closure with friends (although we've been doing plenty of that), or doing favorite things for the Last Time (ditto on that), or even (heaven forbid!) packing.  Instead, we've been following up on a job opportunity, here in Chengdu!  I don't think I'll say much here about it, except that it is A) exciting and promising, B) fits our values in so so many ways, and C) came alone so late in the game that it's, ummm..., still undecided.  As in we may get a job and a visa to be here in the fall, and .. we may not.

So, not for the first time, we find ourselves still living in a strange land of limbo, between two places, with nothing concrete at either end.  If a decision gets made to hire us, we're here in China - if not, we're back in the States.  So, much like Schrödinger's cat, (if you were paying attention in your physics class) we find ourselves occupying two separate realities simultaneously. Except that no cats will be killed in this thought experiment, only made homeless.  (More on that in an upcoming post...)

The funny thing about it?  It should make me feel utterly beside myself crazy, right?!  But somehow, it doesn't.  Well most of the time, anyway.  I could view it as being out of control of my life, but it doesn't feel like that.  After all, I'm not a victim of anything here, unless I'm the victim of a great opportunity that I just barely caught.  It feels more like, hmmm, waiting?  Floating?  Surfing.  Skiing.   Making decisions, then letting gravity do the rest of the work.  Channeling my inner Pat Morita from Karate Kid.  (Note to self: maybe I should actually get around to watching that movie soon) 

Things I wish I'd had the camera for

Over the weekend, I had a chance to make a solo overnight trip up Qingcheng Shan, a mountain complex of Taoist temples that's actually not too far from here - a twenty minute ride on the fast train, and a half hour bus after that.  We had gone there as a family about a month after we first arrived at Xihua, and I wanted to go back for a bit of personal closure and meditation time.

What a difference three years makes!  (And a national holiday, traveling solo, language proficiency, and a side of a mountain)  When we first went, we went on National Day, along with 15,000+ other people who had the same idea, and who all seemed to want to take our picture.  At the temple where we overnighted up at the top of the mountain, there was an island of calm and tranquility, but coming up and coming down resembled a ride at Disneyland more than an experience of nature for most of the trip.  Having paparazzi swarms of photographers clumping around our sore-footed kids every time we took a rest break didn't help matters, either.

This time, there were still overzealous photographers, but only around fifteen or so, and I was able to sail past with a polite "no thank you", and continue on up the mountain.  This time, I went up the back of the mountain, which had only one temple at the top, and had much fewer crowds.  I had a hat, a small shoulder bag, and a journal and sketchbook, but no camera.  The camera, I left at home on purpose to stay more focused on the moment, but the photo junkie in me was saddened several times as I hiked past several great photos, just waiting for a device to record them.  I did have a pen, so following, for your (imaginary) viewing pleasure, copied straight from my notebook, a list of the snapshots I (kinda sorta) wish I'd taken.

•  Pathways and stairways and walkways twisting through narrow river gorges in every configuration imaginable.  Snaking through caves, over waterfalls, under caves formed by massive house sized boulders of chunky conglomerate.  In the rock, fist-sized cobbles, covered in green moss.
• Stone sculptures on bridge posts, worn and funky-looking.  All of the Chinese Zodiac animals, minus a cow, I think.  Also a chunky frog or two, an elephant, some peaches that looked more like naked butts, and even a cat or two.  All mossy and worn, looking like they'd each been carved by a different sculptor, or found in a secondhand store somewhere.
• Designs drawn into the concrete steps.  Geometric patterns, mostly, but with Chinese characters here and there, drawings of animals, or once, a row of six handprints and the names of the builders underneath.  Some very recent, some cracked down the middle from the earthquake four years ago.
• Earthquake-damaged buildings near the summit, and piles of rubble around.  Porters carrying building supplies in baskets on their backs for the three hour hike up the mountain -  the only way to bring any material to the top.
• Several wild lily plants, all near waterfalls.  White trumpet shaped flowers lined with reddish purple.
• Tiny little black-headed birds, with white flashed wing feathers.  Flitting up and down along rock worn smooth by the rushing water.
• The reddish towers of the gondola car rising up level with a path built out alont the edge of a cliff, even with the tops of the trees.
• The grotto leading up to BaiYun (White Cloud) temple, towards the top of the mountain.  Stairs winding up about two stories through a narrow cave-like gap in the cliff, walls lined with hundreds of Buddha figures sitting in carved stone niches.
• BaiYun temple itself, which was a smallish pavilion after the grotto atop at the end of a long straight stairway.  Skinny young monks who I could talk to this time around. A statue of Guanyin, the goddess of compassion with her thousand arms, an eye in the center of each of her hands.

The mulberry connection

One advantage of having a kid or two in kindergarten in a place where mulberry leaves are common is that every spring, a shoebox comes home with five or six grey-white creepy silkworms, like so:



That was back in April sometime, as the last two silkworms were still munching away.  The white oval objects are silkworm cocoons, which we could, in theory, steam or boil or something to unravel them and get silk thread.  Another 1,994 of them, and we'd have enough silk to make a dress!


A closeup of one of the dudes, about five inches long.


Another worm beginning to spin his/her/its cocoon.



And now, more than a month later, one of the last of the silkworm moths that emerged.  Silkworm moths all seem to share the interesting habit of emerging from their cocoon, laying some eggs, not eating, and dying a day or two later.  Honest truth.  Probably one reason why you never see any job openings for silkworm moths on Craigslist...

Lookit!

An invocation for beginnings

Back when I was working in technology education land, Ze Frank was a sometimes distractor of mine. For a year or two, he made "The Show", a sometimes-annoying-but-sometimes-incredibly-brilliant daily five minute discussion / diatribe / rant / stand-up routine, punctuated by the antics of his ego and his facial expressions in full-face closeup video.

Now he's back, in a show more modestly titled "A Show". I must confess that I haven't watched more that a couple of his new episodes (I'm picking and choosing my distractions a bit more deliberately these days), but his first episode? Yep, definitely applies. Hit it, Ze! 

(oh, and warning, the video does contain some strong language.  But I trust all of you to get the message anyway...)

Let the Games Begin!

And... another return to the Boat after an absence from blogging. One problem with blog posts is that they seem to be designed to make a snappy summary of an event or idea. Which is fine, when you're experiencing new things in sequence, or talking about a new idea that you've run across somewhere. But when you're trying to summarize a long event, a long series of ideas, or, well, the end of three years living in China...? Hmmm. More complicated. Add to that my natural tendency to try to generalize and classify events, and it means that the perfect blog post(s) about the last months of our stay here are going to be a long time coming.

In the meantime, our time teaching here and now is coming quickly to a close, with my Very Last Class coming up tomorrow, and final exams and presentations coming the week after that. And we have plane tickets back to Chicago! (not to divulge too much information over the internet, but the date happens to coincide with a certain national festival in the US)

Since our organization sends people all over the world to learn things, adapt to other cultures, undergo tremendous personal change, and then come back to their home countries slightly confused and jobless, they do know a little bit about what happens to people making a transition back to their home culture. The word is "Re-entry", and a couple of months ago, the only image that flashed through my mind upon hearing it was the belly of the Space Shuttle or the bottom of an Apollo capsule, glowing red as it heated up in the atmosphere. Exciting, exhilarating, but also out of the ordinary, a once in a lifetime event, and more than a little bit dangerous.

Now that the end of our time is coming, getting back to the States seems less like a fiery plunge through the atmosphere and more like a really tall roller coaster. There's this bit of a gut wrenching moment as the car engages with the chain and is pulled lurching up a huge steep slope, and my mind races with all the fear-reflex worry, and -- hey, wait a minute! I like roller coasters! Love them, in fact - they're my favorite ride. And I've done them over and over again, and each time I want to go back for more.

Ah, never underestimate the power of cheesy metaphors. I'll leave you now, before the soundtrack starts to kick in...