Thanksgiving

It's evolved into a gluttonous holiday where families gather to eat a late lunch that could feed three villages in sub-Saharan Africa. Where did this originate? What is the purpose of this feast? In its essence, it was a time of sharing food with foreigners. The Native Americans saved the Pilgrims by sharing their food with them and the Pilgrims returned the favor at the next harvest, celebrating over a thankful feast. So, instead of reaching out into the community to share with people who are different from us or people who have no families, we spend it stuffing our faces with cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie.

the Romancer

I believe God is a mystic. Why else would he create fireflies? He shares with his elevated creation a fairy-tale beauty in a misty afternoon, a bonsai tree and the nightly dance of the fireflies. They dance to the symphony of cicadas and tree frogs, each with a unique sound and all bending to the uniform rhythm of the forest.

The Wilderness of Yunnan Province

By far the most beautiful part of China, Yunnan boasts of blue skies, great food and fascinating minority cultures. Most unique food: yak yogurt and yak meat. We rode bikes all day in Dali, spent too much money shopping in Lijiang, and lost ourselves in creation hiking through the Tiger Leaping Gorge, one of the deepest in the world. A combination of riding mules and hiking, the gorge was an awesome outdoor adventure, though I got a wicked sunburn. Every turn, every corner brought a new beauty to behold. He has made a beautiful world, hasn't he?! Since we didn't have the time or money to make it all the way to Tibet, we visited a Tibetan town in Yunnan. At an elevation of 3200 meters, Shangri-la was as gorgeous as it claims but horridly cold. I have never been that cold in my life. When staying overnight in a hostel under a measly, little blanket, one begins to fully appreciate central heating. My last great adventure of my vacation was spent skiing on a small mountain for a super cheap price.

The Real China

On the bus from Xiamen to Chaozhou, I passed through foggy Old China: traditional rooftops, fields of produce, farmers in their rice paddies, wearing ponchos and triangle hats. I stayed a few days with my friend, Sabrina, who lives in a small village where most of the population bear the same family name, which means they all come from the same ancestor, a common occurrence in the rural areas. The first night of my arrival I met half of her family and the other half the following day. One of her cousins lives in a traditional home which, in the past, housed many members of one family. The left side is called the Tiger side and the right the Dragon side. Her aunt offered me to become her daughter-in-law; though tempting, I turned her down. Less than a kilometer from one end to the other, we walked 3 or 4 times around her village, looking at all the old buildings which haven't changed in the past 20 years or longer. One day, we rode (aka were jostled about) in the back of a 3-wheeled motorcycle-truck and then later on the back of a motorcycle (3 of us) to visit some of her friends who make the traditional sweets for Spring Festival. We watched them make, bag and weigh the snacks. Each batch makes about 8 kilos and they make 3 batches per hour, working 12 hours each day due to the high demand of the season. We watched them make a peanut brittle snack and tasted it while it was still hot. Everything they made was delicious, though their shop wouldn't pass a health department examination. Before lunch, I had an excellent cultural experience in the marketplace. There's nothing more appetizing than watching your lunch killed in front of you. That fish never saw it coming. He was bumping and shoving among all of his other homies in the pond until--swoosh--on the cold concrete--bam--knocked silly by a big stick--scrape--cleaned of its scales (ouch)--crack--off with his head. I learned that fish heads still breathe...creepy. On a brighter note, I considerably enhanced my fish-eating skills, improving my bone-spitting with every meal.

Museum of Medical Sciences

Opened in 1996, this unique institution charts the historical development of medical science in Hong Kong and is one of the first museums in the world to compare traditional Chinese and Western approaches to medicine. This was a real treat for me due to my fascination with alternative medicine. Traditional Chinese Medicine, or TCM, is based on the historical Chinese philosophical views of the universe, encompassing theories of the opposing forces of Yin and Yang, and the five elements: metal, wood, water, fire, earth. The human body, being a microcosm of the universe, shares the same universal principles, requiring balance and mutual control by opposing forces to achieve health. The five elements each have their counterparts in the five major organs. Besides these, there is the basic energy or life force: Qi, which is pronounced as "chee". When there is excess of Yin or Yang in the major organs, diseases develop and are classified as cold or hot, deficiencies or excesses, and internal or external. The objectives of treatment are to help the opposing forces of Yin and Yang as applied to the five elements to reach harmony. It emphasizes the whole person rather than a specific organ. Balance is achieved through herbal remedies, acupuncture, acupressure or external applications. Although the theoretical basis of TCM appears ancient and mystical, in practice, with thousands of years of accumulated experience in treating patients, sometimes quite remarkable results can be achieved, especially on selected chronic diseases or in restoring the total well-being of an individual. However for many acute, life-threatening and especially infective disorders, the effect may not be quick enough to relieve the symptoms or save the patient's life; whereas, western medicine is undoubtedly indispensable and can often be life-saving. Although the scientific basis of western medicine is better established leading to more specific treatments, it often suffers from looking at the disease without considering it in the context of the whole patient. Sometimes treating the disease whilst neglecting the needs of the patient as a whole may lead to treatment failures for one reason or another.

Hong Kong in a nutshell

A welcome change from previously explained train ride from hades, Hong Kong was absolutely beautiful, a breath of fresh air from the pollution and frigid temperatures of Beijing. The mountains rise into the sky near the ocean's edge. Never lost due to the assistance of English street signs and maps on every street corner, I walked through the city, gulping the ocean air and ridding myself of the thick, stale air of the capital. No spitting or littering on the metro. No smoking indoors or in parks. I was in heaven! I walked the Avenue of the Stars, viewed the concrete hand prints of Jackie Chan and Jet Li, and admired a statue of Bruce Lee posed for action. Ate a magnum bar for lunch, hopped aboard the Star Ferry to Hong Kong island, rode the Peak Tram to the top of Victoria Peak, strolled through Hong Kong park, took a shopping detour at H&M, rode the World's largest escalator, window-shopped in SoHo and, the highlight of my day, ate some long-wished-for Mexican food, which never fully settled in my stomach. At nightfall, I sat by the water's edge on the Kowloon side, eating gelato and watching the World's largest light show. Phenomenal! The lights and lasers of large buildings danced in sync with music.

From Beijing to Shenzhen

Key question to ask before buying a train ticket: How long will it take to reach my destination? Failure to do so resulted in my spending 29 hours on a train, not soft sleeper, not hard sleeper, but in a seat. The West station was true to its name. I felt like I'd left the nice section of the city and entered the projects. The waiting "lounge" for the train was a massive blob of bodies overflowing into the bathrooms. Refusing to allow myself to float around the ocean of body odor and cigarette smoke, I sliced my way through the populace and out into the walkway of fresh air. As I relaxed on the marble floor, I decided to write in my journal, during which an ancient-looking lady scooted toward me with the help of her cane. I looked up into a toothless grin enveloped in wrinkles within wrinkles. I greeted her with a "good evening" and from the depths of her wrinkles, her blackened eyes sparkled. For a few moments she watched my pen fly across the page, then shuffled to an open section of floor to rest her weary legs.
The "line" into the train compartment was worse than an Elementary school lunch line, complete with pushing and more pushing. We were no longer individuals but a squirming blob of movement, though more squirming than actual movement. Shouting. Shoving. Anger. Upon realizing my situation, I didn't get upset but chuckled to myself about my predicament and watched the passengers fight. After losing three pounds from the squish of the crowds, I found my seat across from three very interested Chinese males and beside one nonchalant male who kept exhaling heavily in my direction. I witnessed a shouting match 7 inches from my face. Two grown men fighting about the location of a suitcase...petty. A man with glasses sitting diagonally from me studied my face to see my reaction. What would the foreigner think of these two? I found it humorous, smiled, but stifled laughter. 29 hours later and stretched across 3 seats, I finally reached Shenzhen, unsure exactly what day it was and extremely hungry.

Top 10 Reasons to Vacation in Hong Kong

This list is for all Westerners living in Mainland China.

1. You are no longer illiterate.
2. You blend into the crowd instead of sticking out like a sore thumb.
3. People know what cheese is...and they even eat it.
4. It's the perfect chance to quit second-hand smoking.
5. The salty sea air disinfects your polluted lungs.
6. There's no need to look out for spit when walking.
7. They know what it means to Reduse, Reuse, Recycle.
8. The expiration date on products is in the future, not the past.
9. "Hello" is not a question and is actually directed to you not at you.
10. Ordering at a restaurant is no longer a game of Russian Roulette.

Chinese Proverb

Purchasing a round-trip ticket does not guarantee a flight home.

Shake, Rattle and Roll

"boom, Boom, BooM, BOOM!" sounded the door in the middle of class. Shake, shake, shake went the windows; wobble, wobble, wobble went my knees. I can finally say I have felt an earthquake, a slightly dizzying experience. "Go, Keesee, GO! Hurry, Hurry, Hurry!" shouted my students. "It's okay," I calmly replied, "I'm going to wait for all of you to exit the classroom. I am, after all, responsible for you people." After descending stairs and crossing the road, we watched our foreign language building dance, secretly wishing it to fall. Security sent everyone to the main square, safely away from all questionable structures. I gave my class their homework and left with Jessica in search of her husband, passing thousands of students, teachers and residents. Meeting up with Nathan outside our apartment, we watched the apocalyptic sky transform from bright sunshine to dooming grey, prompting us to return indoors. I am thankful to be distanced from the epicenter and am sending many upward thoughts on behalf of those who were not as lucky as I.
On a brighter note, I would like to relay the most terrifying event of the week, which took place in my kitchen. I was folding laundry while Nathan was on my computer calling America and trying to work out flight details, which is never as easy as it should be, when we heard Jessica screaming and running from my kitchen. I assumed it was a cockroach or giant spider bent on scaring humans and Nathan arose to protect his fair lady. Now, before I disclose which loathed creature was lurking in my kitchen, I must explain what brought Jessica to the said locale. From my kitchen, or rather from any corner in my apartment, one may hear the distinct cry of hungry baby birds, which is surprisingly similar to a broken squeaky toy. Jessica, the Sherlock Holmes that she is, decided to investigate for the nest of birds. Was it on the ledge below or further up on the roof? Behind my gas stove are two vent hoods, which naturally are out of order, one housing a fan and the other opening into the wild blue, or so we presumed. She opened the one without the fan to peer onto the ledge and out fell the mama bird and pieces of nest, causing the previously described response. One thing you should know about me is that I have few fears. I would call myself a rather brave individual. However, out of the few fears which I possess one is an irrational fear of birds. So, obviously, I could never enter my kitchen or bathroom ever again. Following the advice of Nathan and Jessica, I left my apartment while they attempted to scare the horrid fiend out the window. After swooping from one end to the other, it hid behind my washing machine. Since Nate and Jes didn't want to hurt it and vice versa, they shut it in the kitchen expecting the dumb thing to come to the conclusion of exiting the premises through the wide, open window. Upon returning, they searched high and low finding no trace of it and reported the happy results to me. If only my story ended here. Well, I returned, believing to be in the safety of my home, to complete my domestic tasks and took a break to relieve myself in the bathroom. I lifted the toilet seat and down hopped the winged beast towards me, most likely with thoughts of pecking out my eyes. I ran for my life, screaming and slamming all doors between my bathroom and my neighbor's. Nathan called through the door, asking me what happened. "Bird...Bathroom", was my reply. My hands were shaking and my knees were wobbly. "What's the best way to catch a bird?" asked Nate. "I don't know. I saw a FRIENDS episode when Rachel caught a pigeon in a pot." "Not a bad idea." And so the bird was disposed of out the window to return home to its chirping children.

Peking Entertainment

I found myself seated in an ornate yet quaint little theater sporting waitresses in their traditional garb, a red silk with flowers. The table was set with teacups, a teapot full of green tea, slices of oranges, roasted peanuts and prunes, a typical Chinese array of snacks. Across the room I saw another solo woman traveler, much older, more poised. She's of the class of women whose beauty only grows with age. How I wish I could be so lucky. Though poetic, traveling by one's self can be a lonesome venture. I enjoyed the times of peace and solitude, of reflection, but certain things are much better when shared. During the opera I was concerned for future hearing loss, a fear which often comes to mind in this country. You know it's not good when the hostess plugs her ears. What was fascinating about this particular Peking Opera was the subtitles; a marquee flashed the words of the singers in both Chinese and Chinglish. The make-up, costumes and choreography were superb. The music, however, I won't be humming later, but it was an excellent cultural experience.
If ever you travel to China, visit an acrobatics show. These athletes can contort their bodies in ways I did not think was humanly possible. Throughout the show, exclamations of "Impossible" and "No way" drifted through the crowd. Kevin got a few incredible pictures out of it and we both walked away in stunned silence. This was one of those "you just had to be there" experiences.

All Hail First Emperor

The first to unify China, Qin Shi Huang, in 36 years of rule, created an efficient, centralized government that became the model for later dynasties, build over 6400km of new roads and canals, conquered 6 major kingdoms, and standardized measurements, currency and writing. East of Xi'an is the army of Terracotta Warriors, life-size statues in battle formation guarding the soul of Emperor Qin. One interesting fact: no two soldier's faces are alike.

Beijing, pt. two

The most intriguing scenic spot for me was the Temple of Heaven, which originally served as a stage for solemn rites performed by the emperor acting as high priest, who prayed for good harvests and sought atonement for the sins of the people. Before the age of Confucius, Lao-tze and Gautama, the primitive religion of China was monotheistic with worship of a heavenly Creator and living God, ShangTi. The Shu Ching, the Book of History compiled by Confucius, proves the Chinese to have been monotheists in an ancient world of polytheistic worship. However, with the introduction of Taoist and Buddhist concepts, all original meaning of their rituals was lost and religious designations were falsely applied to expanding mystical ideas of spiritual deities. Ethel Nelson and C.H. Kang expound on this historical fact with a revealing analysis of the Chinese written language in their book, The Discovery of Genesis. By dissecting the pictographs and ideographs, they present the world with a record of the Genesis story 700 to 1,000 years before Moses.
Another place worth visiting in Beijing is the Summer Palace, where royalty took refuge from the insufferable summer heat. It lies beside Kunming lake, which freezes over in winter months to the delight of children and avid ice skaters.
Chairman Mao once said, "He who has not climbed the Great Wall is not a true man." Upon reading these words, I immediately dropped everything to climb this wall of all walls. The myth that the Great Wall is visible with the naked eye from the moon was finally buried in 2003, when China's first astronaut Yan Liwei failed to spot the barrier from space. Although the myth has been edited from Chinese textbooks, many students still believe this to be true. It is quite a climb, even in the most commercialized section, Badaling. Though the 2,000 year old wall did not serve its purpose in being an impenetrable line of defense, it brings in a large cash flow for China.

Beijing, pt. one

In 2005 Beijing was identified by the European Space Agency as having the world's highest levels of nitrogen dioxide, a pollutant that contributes to the city's awful air. Health experts warn that breathing the air could be the equivalent of smoking 70 cigarettes a day, which is ironic because many Chinese males consume about the same number. I wouldn't be surprised if in a few years half of China's population dies of lung cancer. I joined the chain-smokers for a week while touring the history of China: Tiananmen Square, Forbidden City, Temple of Heaven, Great Wall, Summer Palace. The world's largest public square, Tiananmen Square, cannot boast of beauty or inspiring architecture for it is merely a large slab of grey concrete, enhanced by the perpetual cloud of pollution hanging overhead. The dreariness reminds one of the dark stain of 1989 and the current suppression of freedom. The best view of the square is at night when illumined by bright security lights and protected by the usual guards at each entrance.
Near Tiananmen is the Chairman Mao Memorial Hall which houses the beloved chairman in all his glory. Before entering, visitors must cross the street to deposit all bags, cameras, and any other offensive belongings, then go through a series of security checks and metal detectors. Inside the mausoleum where the chairman lies in a glass coffin, silence and respect is expected and many bring flowers or gifts. When Mao was undergoing the process of preservation, his doctor, who most likely feared his life if he failed, had a wax replica constructed as a backup, leaving visitors to wonder which Mao they are actually viewing. In 2004, six Chinese scholars drafted a proposal asking authorities to remove the corpse from display and bury it in Mao's hometown. They claimed that to worship the corpse of a ruler is a display of a "slave-based society" and that a body returning to dust in the ground is part of Chinese tradition. Their main concern, however, seemed to be the world gaze that is now falling upon Beijing with the approaching 2008 Olympics. Mao actually wanted to be cremated.
Across the street from Tiananmen Square and home to two dynasties of emperors, the Forbidden City, forbidden for 500 years, is the largest and best-preserved cluster of ancient buildings in China. The palace houses ceremonial halls, a museum, the Imperial garden, and the usual tourist hounds selling Chinese goods. It was also home to a Starbucks until last year when the public protested the commercialization of the palace and kicked the corporation out. Ha!

a typical traveling tragedy

Shanghai, the Paris of the East, though some believe Paris to be the Shanghai of the West, boasts of many attractions, shopping and fine delicacies to be enjoyed. While in this booming metropolis, I did not visit the French Concession or the Shanghai museum, neither did I walk along the Bund or eat at the many restaurants underlined and circled in my Lonely Planet China book. Upon arrival, I bought my overnight sleeper tickets to Beijing, found a hostel and realized my bank card was in the machine in Nanjing, three hours away. I had barely enough cash for one night at the hostel and a few days before my train to Beijing. Frantic, I called my friends back in Enshi for assistance and was put in touch with friends in the Shanghai area who agreed to give me shelter, food and eventually a monetary transaction between myself and a bank account in America, which proves the point that harmonious filial relations are vital. The next morning I found my cell phone to be out of money because the company did not change my service like I requested and subsequently charged me outrageous roaming fees. Thank you, China Unicom.
Though I did none of the things I had planned to do, I spent an amazing weekend with "family" who encouraged me. I was greatly humbled and brought down from the self-centered pedestal upon which many tourists squat. I wasn't meant to see the sights of Shanghai; instead, my eyes were opened to the stench of self-gratification. I had recently been extremely selfish with both my time and money. I was in dire need of a reminder of why I live in China. It's not so I can buy cheap clothes and drink my fill of naicha, a milk tea with tapioca balls. This experience required me to give up my calendar, my watch and my wallet. Love so amazing, so divine, demands my life, my soul, my all. As an American, I have too many blessings, too many material blessings. So, I rejoice in the fact that, though only a short time, the comfort of money was removed and I had to depend on other workers.
I could look back with grumbling and complaining over the frustrations of banks in China, how it's impossible to retrieve money from one's bank account without the card. I could sigh about how I could not get a new bank card until I returned to my bank of origin and how when I did so, I was forced to dish over money out of my own pocket, not my bank account, to buy a new card. I could roll my eyes, but instead I rejoice. I rejoice in being reminded of the millions who are less fortunate than I. I rejoice in meeting more family. I rejoice in being chosen to proclaim wonderful acts. I rejoice in the name that is greater than any other name. I rejoice in humility.

Chinese Proverb

When students, who never seem to smell that terrific, tell you it's time to take a bath...it's most likely time to take a bath.

a wal-mart fiasco

To those who complain about the crazy shoppers during the day after Thanksgiving: You've never been in a Wal-Mart two days before Spring Festival, the Chinese New Year celebration. It's times like these I'm reminded of the overpopulation. Upon entering The Mart, Nate and I transformed into players in a video game, dodging in and out of the crowd, hopping over baskets, squeezing past granpas. When we accumulated all the hidden treasures on our list, we slowly shuffled towards the cash registers, losing time and points. To increase our chances, we split up choosing two separate lines. I lined up behind a woman of perhaps 50 with curly hair, pushing a cart full of goods. Many pushed past us, having already made their purchases. One woman, short and plump with a long ponytail trailing down her back, seemed indecisive in choosing one line or the other. At first she followed a woman sporting her offspring on her back but then changed her mind and cut in front of the curly-haired lady. The cutter, who operated on the Chinese pretense that lines are relative, wore make-up like a 13-yr-old in a low-budget 80's film: hot pink lips and racoon eyes.

Curly-hair was perturbed by Racoon eyes' presumptuous move and told her so. After a few bickering words among the newfound enemies, Nate said his line was obviously faster, so I scooted two lines over, not diverting my attention from the building tension. "Those two women are fighting," I said, nodding my head towards the two. As though on my cue, Racoon pushed Curly's basket. Much shuffling and clanging of items ensued, each trying to put theirs first under the undisturbed eyes of the cashier, who looked like she would blow away with a gust of wind. Right when I thought the fighting had subsided, Racoon spit in Curly's basket, which floored the two gaping foreigners. Curly shoved her basket into Racoon's side. Racoon shoved it back. Back and forth. Back and forth, yelling and shouting who-knows-what. To my delight, during this fight of all fights, I was a front-row witness to the action. Racoon took her sack of eggs, swung it over her shoulder and *SMACK* right across Curly's face, busting both sack and eggs, yolk flying everywhere. Curly retaliated by throwing produce at Racoon. And then, to my dismay, the store manager approached the scene: two women, over-the-hill, standing like statues ready to pounce, fuming in anger. As Nate and I finished checking out, the same though crossed our minds: ONLY IN CHINA.

the kindness of strangers

One year in college my friend Julia and I had a memorable conversation about the life lesson we are being taught by the Father. Julia's is to learn not to rely too much on others; whereas mine is to learn how to give up my pride and depend on others. This solo, independent vacation of mine turned into a new step in my life lesson of depending on the generosity of others.
I am forever indebted to the Chinese. In every new city, I usually found myself hopelessly lost at least once. One time, when looking for a hostel, I met a graduate student with excellent English who not only walked me there but carried my bag as well. In another city, I was on a bus headed in the wrong direction. When I asked a fellow passenger if this bus would take me to my destination, he got off the bus with me at the next stop and told the bus driver of the correct bus that he should tell me when to get off. In Shanghai when desperately lost, I heard those comforting words sent from above: "Do you need help?" I am always reminded He is watching over me. A college student and his uncle missed their bus to walk me to the subway station. When I showed concern about this, he replied, "We'll just take a taxi." A taxi can be considerably more expensive than a bus, especially in bigger cities. In Beijing while perched on the floor of the main train station awaiting the "midnight express," I glanced at my train ticket. My neighbor, being Chinese, naturally inspected my ticket. He asked me if I spoke Chinese, then proceeded to tell me my ticket was for the Beijing West Railway Station. Fortunately, I was four hours early for my train, providing plenty of time to reach the other station. And I could continue my list of those who helped.
My favorite story of the many regarding the good Samaritans of China is when I was adopted by three uncles: I boarded my last solo passage on the nicest sleeper bus in all of China. Usually, a ride on a sleeper bus is a fight with germs and gravity. You press your head into the questionable "pillow" while holding on for dear life as the bus rocks back and forth with every pothole. (In central China, the roads are really an extended metropolis of potholes. This is a place where the term "off-roading" does not bear the same meaning as in America.) Another casualty of the sleepers is your bladder and kidneys. There is no toilet on board, which means you must hold it and/or not drink any water for 12 or more hours. The sleeper bus of southern China was a different story altogether. The sheets were white, the mattress soft, the roads smooth...and there was a toilet! Oh, what bliss! I had enough room to fully stretch my legs and I could even roll over on my side. It was smooth sailing, and I was headed towards the company of friends. I had an "unconversation" with one of the drivers who offered me water and some baby oranges. At our pit stop for lunch, he made me follow him into an eating place for bus drivers. "I'm not hungry," I said. "Just sit down," said my new uncle. "I'm not hungry, really, I'm not." He filled my bowl with soup. "I don't eat meat." "Don't be polite. Eat!" And that is how Kayla ate her first pork chop in 8 years. Then we had another unconversation with me attempting to answer questions only to end with my most spoken phrase in Chinese: I Don't Understand. He kept trying to force me to eat more and I kept staring at the huge mole beneath his lower lip. He left to clean the bus, telling me to wait with the other two, as though they might lose me. One thing I've learned in China is that I can't do anything by myself or without anyone watching...apparently. They made me eat dinner with them but didn't force me to eat meat. Later on in the evening, through writing and the assistance of my trusty bi-lingual dictionary, I learned that my newly-ordained uncle believed it wasn't safe for me to be alone in the dark so I was to stay overnight at the bus station, sleeping on the bus with my three uncles and a couple with a baby. In the morning, my uncle told me I should wait for it to get brighter. Apparently 7:30 in the morning wasn't safe enough. I had to wait for the cleaning girls to finish the bus before I was allowed to leave with my escort. I'd like to note that beneath my mattress was a wrench, a screwdriver and a pool of rusty wetness, which is why the bottom of my mattress was moldy. I obviously don't pass for a princess since I can't feel tools, let alone a pea.

where angels fear to tread

"For the barrier of language is sometimes a blessed barrier, which only lets pass what is good. Or--to put the thing less cynically--we may be better in new clean words, which have never been tainted by our pettiness or vice." -E.M. Forster

Chinese Proverb

Dark clothing and chalk dust should never mix.