First World Sensei

The first thing I noticed about China was that the airport was remarkably barren for a country that’s home to the largest population in the world. The second thing; the HEAT! The air is thick and oppressive. Third thing… WE’RE HERE!! Oh my word, we’ve landed! What’s next? Where to first?

Beijing! Look! There’s Dawson. He’s kind of a silly character. He makes himself laugh and knows all kinds of facts about his nation and ours. He tells a joke that makes Jacques blush and we’re off to the hotel.

 Here we met Oliver, a former student of MCC. He’s kind and charming. Not to mention, very handsome. He goes out of his way to make us feel welcome and treats us to our first authentic Chinese meal and expectations are set high.

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That night we go out and explore the local shopping district called Wangfujing. There’s all kinds of smells, some familiar some unpleasant. There’s a variety of food to wet the palate like; skewered live scorpions and a roasted quail-looking bird. All very red and exciting!

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Next morning we make it to the summer palace. We encounter an older man who taught himself English. He spends half an hour with us teaching us how to write our names phonetically in character. Here is where the staring starts. We were told to expect it but, my undestanding of staring was American staring; you can look as long as you want but if that person of your interest makes eye contact... you're toast. Not here! Not these people! You can look them dead in the eyes and they will stare back then whisper to the person next to them who is also staring. It's unnerving but admirable in a way. These people are curious and they're obseving, hoping to learn something that they didn't know before. They're eating up this new experience.

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Next day! We’re at our Chinese sister college, Beijing Shijingshan Community College. Here we’re welcomed by the very kind students, the president, and a few governemtn officials. The woman I sit next to, her English name is Angela. We are treated to a traditional tea ceremony and are taught proper tea-time etiquette. Only three fingers to hold the cup and finish within three sips, (My favorite numbers are all multiples of three).

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We’re all feeling the effects of jet lag at this point. Asking us to sit still is almost torturous. I have to make a concentrated effort to keep my eyes open, I stretch the muscles controlling my eye ball and sit with my spine erect. It’s not working…

But wait! They’re going to feed us! These patient souls teach us how to prepare dumplings from scatch! Aside from that enriching fact, this is the moment I’ve been waiting for! I’m paired with an older student from the collegee and finally an opportunity to use my universal signs… except she doesn’t understand any of them. That’s alright, suggestive tones and grunts are working fine, just the same.

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That evening we go shopping. I’ve taken more time at a burger king than the time it took to find what we wanted and make deal in this, the Silk Alley. When you walk inside you're immediately greeted by offers of best-priced merchandise. Every ten feet there is another person attempting to sell to you a knock off version of popular items; shoes, designer purses etc.

What shocked me the most was the way in which they would exploit their own culture to make money. They had tacky little chinese fans and zodiac figurines. What has happened to these people that they must bottle up their culture and sell it at travel size. How had these poeple come to be so forsaken by their leaders as to be forced to exploit not only foreign tourits but also their own rich history? Perhaps it's my first world sensibilities but I felt outrage and guilt.

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**upon reflection and after travelling to Johnson Space Center in Houston, I've come to realize that even the wealthiest countries do this... Example? Teddy Bears wearing orange jumpsuits with a NASA patch... authentic genuine space pens... and the like.**

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Next day, Great Wall of China. What do I remember? Steps and Steps and Steps. Oh yeah, I stepped in human feces and someone mentioned that human bodies were encased in the wall. We spent 45 minutes atop the wall. Partly my own fault because I was starving so we stopped to grab a snack which took up 10 minutes of our hour -long time allotment. In hind sight, I may as well have waited. We were up and down in a jiffy. We were even abe to ride a toboggin down the side of the mountain where the gate to the wall lay.

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Later that day we visited the art district and what should welcome us but a statue of a giant Chinese wrestler mounting a bull.

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Lovely.

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The district is amazing. We have to walk through construction and a tunnel that looks like something out of batman begins. What a metaphor for life though, on the other side we arrive to alley ways of personal expression. A banner painted on the side of a building reads “We Want to Be Modern”, in English no less. There are these red men who look to be created out of paper mache with their mouths gaping, calling out for I don’t know what. The streets here are quieter than anything we've experienced since arriving. The energy is subdued but I still feel the greatest connection to the people of China. Art is historically where people turn to express themselves in an oppresive state of goverment which, as we know, China is just coming out of. I felt the people beg for individuality, for the Chinese to find pride in themselves for their achievements and to look less to other nations, particularly the U.S as an ideal image of what a proporous nation behaves like.

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**From what I learned from Zack our young tour guide, the mainstream music that young people of China listen to is American music. Also Korean popular music. there isn't much of a mandarin pop music scene. Does this detract from the cultural experiences of chinese people or, does it represent globalization. They're only recieving top soil information about what it means to be an American from kitchy pop artists like Justin Beiber and Taylor Swift**

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Next Day we're off to the forbidden city. It gets it's name from the time when the region was not open to the public but only to the emperor and his attending party. There are many gate ways and many throne rooms the archiechture is simply amazing.

After, we take a ride in the rickshaw to visit the Hutongs. These are lived in remnants from Chinas historic past dating back to the Yuan Dynasty. They're square shaped with a center courtyard. Often, they are occupied by an extended family. Within the one we visited I encountered a couple with a small child which made my heart strecth with longing and desire to hold my own little ones. Instantly, the nostaglia afforded me a fond affection for the dwelling. I would still like to return.

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The night of May 31st we have a hot pot dinner. The following morning 5 of our comrades are in bed ill the cause is still speculated.

Those of us who are well, treck to a buddhist temple that was built for the emperors.

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While our fallen companions are healing, the rest are given free time to the end of our day. So Eddie, Valeria and I bought a couple skateboards.

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The next day we take the train to see the Terracotta Warriors. The site is enormous. As I walk through each of the exhibits

I wonder "how is it even possible for one person to have so much power? "All of this unearthed magnificance was built on the back of superstition. The tomb of the Emporor Qin, who all of this was built for, sits unexcavated due to the health threat opening his buial chamber poses. It's theorized there are rivers of mercury flowing around his entombed corpse.

Oddly, this made me think of my son. What kind of man would he be? We he be paranoid and torment his house with insessant accusation? Will he be kind and just? What kind of role do I play in the man my son will become?

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On June 3rd we visited the Grottoes in Louyang. The statues were magnificant but all I could really considered when appraising them was how much labor went into it. How, when these shrines were intially carved the public did not have access to them. Now here they sit; as tourist attractions and you can pay to take pictures of it.

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**Were these sites ever holy places? Was the holy reserved for the elite? Do these people standing next to me consider if their ancestors sweat and blood went into building these rock gods? **

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My favorite part of the whole trip was arriving at Mount Tai and the Shaolin Temple.

While we were not permitted to climb the mountain due to time constraints, the gondola provided for us spectacular aerial views of the mountain side. This was what I had been waiting for the whole trip. I was to commune with a spirit of balance and zen. Much to my dissapointment, I did not find what I was looking for. It appeared that the tourist-ification I had witnessed in the cities was not solely an urban attribute. On every level of this site, were a gift shop. Hawking the buddhist/taoist ideal.

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By now it was registering that my soul was becoming tired of this exerience as I began to long for my day to return home.

I found solace in an international book store our last afternoon in China. Just walking in felt warm and cozy. I grabbed a classic work; The Hobbit, and made ready for my journey back home.

In the morning before we boarded our plane home our professors led us to a park where a man awaited our arrival. He was a Tai Chi instructor. I couldn't believe that had not once practiced tai chi since arriving in China before this very moment.

It occurred to me at this moment, that I had lost myself while on this trip.

I started out not knowing who I was or where I fit but somehow knew by the end of this that I wasn't being who I was intended to be.

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Quietly, we flew home. All of us grateful to be in a familiar space. On my first night home, I could hear people speaking in their houses as I went for a walk down my street. The silence of my small city was something I longed for without knowing it.

I hope I get the chance to return some day to reconnect with China. Until then, and even then, I'll still be searching

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