The Year of the Dragon (Part 1: Western D v. Chinese D)

There is a little dragon inside each one of us. This statement is true in at least two ways, there is both an actual "little dragon" inside each of us, a concrete noun, a living creature, a whole unit, whom you can read Dr. Seuss to, and play Bonnie Tyler to, and feed. There is also a "little dragon essence" in each of us, an abstract noun, an attitude, a fierceness, a spirit that gets fired-up at the sight of pirates.

The Year of the Dragon is coming. January 23 is the first day of the Chinese new year, at which point, we will no longer be in the Year of the Rabbit.

The Chinese dragon is very different from the dragons of western folklore. Western dragons are solitary, sharp, mean, and thick-skinned. They eat people, steal women, collect treasure, and live in all the wrong places. I mean, how is it that almost every adventure to save the world involves at least one tussle with a dragon? Why do they always live in between heros and victory? They're like tonsils: "Oh, you're sick? You've got a bad lung, so it looks like we're gonna have to take out your tonsils to get at the problem." Or, "Oh you snore? Tonsils!" Western dragons are always the problem. All the epics have it: The Hobbit, Chronicles of Narnia, Snow White, Shrek, World of Warcraft, Chocolate. Why?! Y'know!? Because western dragons are monsters; murder, kidnap, greed, and bad real-estate come with the job.* But the dragons in China are different.

Chinese dragons aren't monsters at all, they're inclusive. They are a kind of good luck charm, it's good to have one around -- think Mushu from Mulan. The legend one of my students told me, started the dragon back with an early emperor in China. This emperor was a good ruler, a friendly ruler you might say, and like most good, friendly rulers he wanted more people to experience his incredible leadership so he went to war with them. Empires back then used different animals to represent their clan, sort of like America and the Bald Eagle.  The kind emperor used the snake to represent his clan, but as he conquered/united more groups, he wanted to incorporate their totems into the imperial seal. So starting with the snake, he added a lion head, and some fish scales, and bear claws, and a tail. That's why the Chinese dragon is really good, it's a symbol of unity, and China.

The question we all have to ask ourselves as the new year approaches is this: what kinds of dragons are living inside us?

* There's been a recent trend that is changing the face of dragons in the west, more on that in Part 2.   

Day to Day

Creativity! You absurd, you bird, you free bird, you poppycock herd, you terd!  Why is it you always hide and go when I need you to show? Yo, you and your bro, Getupandgo, energy, initiative, see it-start it and make it grow. Yeah, why is it you two slow when I need you the most? It's the down times, the staring-at-the-screen-times, the half-your-class-skipped-final times, the kicking-against-the-goad times, the low-light-can't-sleep times, it's these times, those times, this time, when I need you the most time.  But it's these times, sometimes, most times, when I throw up a pray for your ghost to hover over me, like she did at the beginning of time over the waters -- like a mother hen over her uncracked sons and daughters. I don't need a world, just enough to keep pecking, and night checking, and role taking, and plan making, to push past an off-tone, no tone, monotone sort of drone,

day to day.

I need creativity to give it a birth day work day good day kind of day feel, where the kids can hustle and cuss and put up all sorts of fuss, but the pushers and testers and stressers and stuff somehow can heal (them and me) and free us to be like birds who start our day chirping creativity. C'mon. Please!

Traveling Faith

Flying a kite in Shanghai. 

Traveling forces trust. Even with diligence -- keeping bags out of the cab trunk and asking for bottled water -- to travel requires believing in people. It's a risk. And a backpack and an unfamiliar look are targets for hawkers and scams:

"Hullo! Hey!"
"Where are you from?"
"Where you want to go?"
"What do you need? C'mon, I got it!"
"You want weed man?"
"Taxi?"

It takes a thick Caucasian skin to walk through some markets. I say Caucasian skin because it makes blending in a lot harder in some parts of the world, and the height doesn't help either. The most aggressive hawkers I've seen while traveling, were in Egypt; everyone was your friend. Not just street vendors, anybody with a pocket book of English was more than ready to help with directions or give advice, followed by, "Hey man, small tip, c'mon I got eighteen kids and a camel at home."

When Tye and I arrived in Shanghai, there were two groups of college aged youths who invited us to an authentic tea tasting ceremony. They were super friendly. As we were bantering with one of these groups, a guy started sizing us up with a canvas and paintbrush. "We better go," Tye said. "I think this guy is going to paint us a picture whether we want it or not." We left. That night at our hostel, we found a warning on our lamp-stand, "TEA CEREMONY SCAM!!" It went on to explain how groups of young locals invite travelers to an "authentic" tea ceremony, give them all kinds of tea, and rack up a huge bill.

My first thought was: jerks. And then: what a lame scam, tea?! It could at least be something cool like ... I don't know, something besides "authentic" tea. And then I thought: okay, traveling again, gotta be skeptical, the people volunteering help probably want your kidneys (I guess black-market organ harvesting is popular in some parts of China).

When Austin and I were traveling in Cairo, we found ourselves following Mohammed to his buddies hostel. He told us his friend was a travel agent and could help us. He led us into this building that looked like it was straight out of Modern Warfare Desert Storm, sat us in a room with his friend who looked like a mafia boss donning a silk short sleeve and fat gold necklace -- also named Mohammed. He didn't speak so I started, "Hi, we're hoping to get some information about traveling in Egypt." No response. "Mohammed told us you could help us find out about some trains and stuff?" He leaned in, "No ... English." I was a little confused, how could Mohammed not know Mohammed didn't speak English? We made ready to leave when he said, "Just kidding,"followed by a Robert Shaw chuckle and grin -- definite mafia boss persona. We told him everything we wanted to do in Egypt, and without checking a computer or making any calls, he just pulled out a calculator and gave us a price.

Later that trip, as we were preparing to get off the overnight rail from Cairo to Luxor, I realized Mohammed could easily scam us.  He was 14 hours away with our cash, and we had no way of contacting him. We had no clue about where our next hostel might be, or what our next move was. We had no tickets, names, or receipts, we were trusting Mohammed to come through. And, in spite of my suspicions, he did.

At the end of my trip in China, down in Guangxi, my hostel host, Simon, took me to the night market on the back of his scooter. On the way he stopped at his friend's tea shop; I had my guard up, but Simon seamed trustworthy. Hanz was the owner, he was excited to practice English. He gave me the scoop on Chinese tea: no sugar, no milk, just water. Our conversation ranged from tea to travel to Christianity and balance to culture. Tea, I found out, was Hanz's passion. He opened this shop not knowing where the money would come, but he just wanted to share his joy with others. When I got up to leave, I expected a price. "Free," Hanz said. I looked at Simon and said, "no way. Well, can I buy something or something?" He translated to Hanz, and Hanz tried to resist, "Please, if you don't want to, you don't have to." I insisted, and I still have some loose leaf Dragon Well tea in my freezer.

Travel makes you vulnerable. Travel forces faith. Abraham was a traveller. It seems like everyone is out for travelers, but when a Mohammed or a Simon and Hanz show genuine kindness, traveling faith grows.

Genuine tea ceremony in Yangshuo. Simon on the left, Hanz pouring tea, Hanz's family on the right. 

Chrinastmas

Protecting the Forbidden City on Christmas Day. 

Over Christmas Holiday I traveled through China with Tye Davis. Our journey went like this:

Hong Kong to Shanghai flight, maglev train ride into town at 380 KPH; met up with Shaun, Lisa, Matt (teaching in  Kunshan). Short train to Kunshan, electric scooters and a terrible massage. Train back to Shanghai, buss to Huang Shan, "Yellow Mountain," 10 minutes late for cable car, hiked up in the dark, (7k 2,500vft (a defining moment), hotel at the top. Cable car down, suss back to Shanghai, overnight train to Xi'an (Terra-cotta warriors, Muslim Chinese food). Overnight train to Beijing (Forbidden City and Hu Tong (on X-mas day), Summer Palace, Olympic Blds (like the Bird's nest), Great wall). Morning, 5:00, taxi to airport, split ways (Tye flys to Guangzhou and then trains Hong Kong and then swims back to Michigan, I fly to Guilin). Short bus to Yangshuo, 70k bike through Yangshuo greater agricultural region, 8 hour bus to Guangzhou. Meet up with Lance, Andrew, and Ryan (teaching in Guangzhou (all these teachers are connected through WW)). Short train to Zhuhai, massages at midnight on new years. Ferry to Hong Kong.

We saw the highlights, but China is a big country.   

Local Visitors

Showing some locals skin on the MacLehose trail in Sai Kung park.  Both Evan and Ryan love hiking, that's why they're super stoked; you can tell by their faces. Ryan is even showing the back of his index finger, which in Sai Kung is a popular way of saying, "This is wholesome fun" (in Chinese of course). 

Don't think that because these three guys are business majors that they aren't ready to join the Occupy Hong Kong crowd. You can see Evan feels right at home with these counter beat Cantonese campers chilling
under the HSBC building. 

Pearl Sea (Zhuhai) 珠海

Lance looks at a scale model of Zhuhai. 

Last weekend I met up with a couple friends from college, Lance and Ryan, in China. Technically Hong Kong is part of China, but it depends in what context you make reference. Usually the Hong Kongers refer to everything else in China as "Mainland."

Zhuhai is the name of the city where we met up. It's a relatively new city in the Canton province, nestled on top of Macau, the Las Vegas of China. Over the past ten years this city has been exploding with growth. There are all sorts of new divisions and developments going in, one of which is supposed to a miniature replica of Shanghai.  It's alive with cranes and concrete. I got the feeling that if I threw a pole on the ground it would grow into a lamp, or if tossed a piece of trash on the sidewalk, a 7-Eleven would appear––it was similar to Narnia in this sense, when Narnia was being created in The Magicians Nephew. (And yes, there were plenty of minotaurs and dwarves running around, at least, enough to make you on edge).

Ryan's dad works in Hong Kong and he treated us teachers like kings. We spent most of the weekend eating or getting our bodies massaged, or in Lance's case, both at the same time.

Pumpkin Bars in the Parking Lot

Mom sent some ingredients from home (thanks mom); with a few more exports from New Zealand,
Australia, and America, all the goods were good to go.  

Ovens are a commodity in Hong Kong. Thankfully, Mrs. White graciously provided.  

The frosting, now doubt thanks to the New Zealand butter,
was yellow instead of white.

We poured the dough thick so the pumpkin bars became more of a pumpkin cake. Gorrila As cooks
see little mistakes like this (or forgetting salt, or mixing up salt and sugar) as opportunity for discovery.
We went with it, and even wrote with thanksgiving. 

The campus is meat free. Thankfully this turkey was a vegetarian.  

We met and gave thanks in the staff housing parking lot. 

Sometimes thanksgiving hits us like a table full of pie and pumpkin cake.  Shania saw
no use fighting it, she just stopped and took a moment to appreciate it all.