Riding the train from Xi’an to Beijing overnight for eleven hours was just wonderful. My ticket was 417 yuan for a soft sleeper bed, which is $59. I (judgmentally) had visions of a room full of wooden bunk beds and roaming chickens, no comfort and no privacy. I was so pleased when I arrived to our white room with one bunk bed on the left and the right and a table between the two next to the big picture window with sheer white curtains and heavier cream ones and pillows with pillow cases and cozy white comforters and ahhhhhh.

I was told there would be a dining car, but there wasn’t. Whoops. A few hours into our trip the ticket taker came by with a snack cart. Our Thanksgiving dinner turned out to be carmel popcorn, Pringles and Chips Ahoy. The Great Wall of China is a wine brand here. Don’t buy it! It’s not good, but under certain circumstances you lower your standards. So when I went to buy a glass of it from the cart man, I discovered after he opened the bottle, that they only sell it by the bottle. So what is better than one bad glass of wine on Thanksgiving night … but a whole bottle!

Here is a shot of Rhapsody and Bucky watching a movie while on the train. The sliding door to our cabin had an oval mirror on it and I photographed them through that:

Sitting with my back up against the picture window as the train gently rocked me back and forth, sipping my bad red wine from a paper cup and looking at those two through the mirror I wrote this:

I see honeycombs, sugar pops,
cotton candy and pinafores entrusted to me.
I see rainbows, storm clouds, bucking broncos,
sweet kittens, devil horns and popcorn floors.

I love SKYPE. It’s a phenomenal invention. When I was married back in 1993 big clunky video phones could only be rented. My almost husband Bob rented a dozen of them and Fedex’d them across the country to family members and friends so they could watch us getting married on Thanksgiving Day at our home in Hoboken, New Jersey. It was cool. The local Eyewitness newscaster Tappy Philips (thanks to my sister-in-law Lisa Hahn) covered our wedding. I can still see (and hear!) my sister Laura (in my mind) exuberantly yacking away from North Carolina to Tappy Phillips who was interviewing her for the TV clip. The Best Man, Marc Scott, was in San Francisco. So even though video telephones have been a part of my life way since way back then I am a delighted child each time I Skype with someone on this trip. I mean I grew up with George Jetson fantasies of screen chats and now I am living that? We are able to live that? Grandparents seeing and hearing grandchildren. Sisters seeing sisters. Girlfriends chatting in robes across continents while sipping wine? Oh and for free? Why?

Here is a photo of Rhapsody and Bucky while they Skype with their friend Ashley in Jersey City. Rhapsody was in the middle of a facial when Ashley called and she didn’t care and answered the phone:

Twenty years from now what will it be? How will my kids be talking to their kids or their grandkids? Beam me over Scottie? If they make that happen, I wanna be a witness, I wanna play!

Xie Xie
Kate

The sage on the holy mountain is a pervasive image of Chinese culture, expressed most familiarly through paintings of rocky peaks, twisted pines, rushing mountain torrents and a small human figure beside a rustic pavilion. These pictures reflect a religious sensibility of retreat from the day to day affairs of society and busy-ness, to commune with a greater reality.

Mountain Forest in the Mist

This way of contemplation was the path of Lao Tzu and the Buddha and countless other sages and holy men throughout China’s centuries. The greatest of the sages attracted disciples, and over time the crags and caves of their mountain refuges became sites of temples to remember them and honor the gods, and these in turn became destinations for pilgrims, ordinary people unable to free themselves entirely from the cares of the world: spouses, children, homes, the entire catastrophe as Kazanzakis called it, before the additional calamity of email. So the common people made pilgrimages to the holy mountains in great numbers, perhaps to earn merit, to beseech a favor of the fates, or to refresh their own spirits. There are many holy mountains throughout China, some Buddhist, some Taoist.

Closest to Chengdu is the Taoist holy mountain of Qingchengshan. It is not so far. It is easy enough to hire a taxi for the day, drive out through the great sprawl of the city into the countryside, and soon arrive at the foot of the mountain. In this modern world holy mountains require upkeep and must be self financing so one first buys an entrance ticket to the mountain.

Mystic Barge Approaqches

A paved path ascends through misty woods up the way of a mountain brook, past rough log pavilions, while haunting Chinese music comes from hidden speakers. Then a still lake appears and all is soundless, muffled in the mist. Beyond the lake are ranges of forested mountains, ever higher, shrouded in the fog. A silent barge approaches out of the mist from across the lake, with the characteristic Chinese upturned corners of the roof. Even mystic barges must be self financing, so one buys a ticket to board.

The quiet crossing of the lake takes one to the base of a cable lift. In the old days the pilgrims would have made their way up the mountain entirely foot, no doubt having to spend some nights on the mountain in the process, but in this world of day trippers, we all line up to buy another ticket, then are swept up the mountain, flying through the tree tops in ski lift chairs. It is a holiday mood, many are taking photos, a few coming down in the lift as I go up, notice me and wave a friendly “Hello.” 

Cable Lift at Qingchengshan

Fast step off the cable lift into a foggy and chill complex of restaurants and tea houses.  Fortifying myself with a doughy bun left over from breakfast, from here begins the climb up steep stone stairs, some so ancient the water running down the mountain has shaped grooves into the stone. Going up the mountain are porters with great baskets of supplies for the monks, reminiscent of  the Himalayas of Nepal.

Mountain Porters at Qingshengshan

Throughout the mountains of ancient China porters or pack animals were the only means of transport and beyond the top of the cable lift that remains the case at Qingchengshan to this day.

Trudging up at a measured pace in my mountain boots, note a Chinese lady in dainty brocade slippers coming down. Reach a great gateway, decorated with an array of colorful statues of gods and demi-gods. Here the bearers of the sedan chairs notice me and offer to carry me up the mountain, but am not yet so far gone as all that.

Up the steep mountain, the entire way stone stairs, eventually reaching a temple hall that enshrines Lao Tzu, the sage whose Tao Te Ching sketches out the elusive mystic thought we call Taoism. Here there is an explanatory sign in two forms of Chinese script, English and unusually, German. Must have been a volunteer German on a project here once.

The sign explains that the sage Zhang Ling, strangely called here the founder of Taoism, settled in Tianshi cave on this mountain, and developed Taoism. Latter I find that he founded the first systematic order of Taoist monk-priests, around the 140s AD,  presumably in imitation of the Buddhist monks. Zhang Ling’s sect became the order of the Celestial Masters.  Initially leadership was hereditary, passing on first to Zhang Ling’s son, then his grandson. The movement attracted a great following among the common people, particularly among the minority Ba but also among many ordinary Chinese, the Han. It became known as the Five Peck movement, for the annual tribute of rice each member paid to the organization. In a couple of generations it gave rise to a theocratic state, centered in Sichuan, that rebelled against the authority of the Emperor.

Like the current Falun Gong religious movement, which the Chinese state so fears today, the Celestial Masters were not in their origin a political movement but instead had a strong spiritual message. They ended the blood sacrifice of animals, until then a part of the Taoist ritual. Repentance for one’s sins and faults was a crucal practice, perhaps not so dissimilar from Maoist self-criticism. They believed there is an energy source, qi (pronounced “chee”), that pervades the universe. Humans have a limited amount of qi, and while it can be restored through meditation,  it can be lost through sin or other activities that deplere body fluids, the latter belief leading to an entire Taoist theory and set of esoteric practices.

Shrine of Lao Tzu at Qingchengshan

Continue the climb up the steep stone stairs to the shrine of Lao Tzu. A sign states “Lao Tzu has always existed in the great infinite, yet is constantly immersed in the world of change so as to save humanity. He descended to produce the Dao Te Ching in the time of the Xie dynasty.”

One more push takes me to the summit, 1220 meters. Here another sign indicates that the concentration of negative oxygen ions is 18,000/cm³.  This is the cradle of of eco-civilization as well as the birthplace of Taoism.

Sleeping Monk

Here I suddenly find myself alone, a rare event in China. Solititude is broken only by a Taoist monk who has fallen asleep listening to his holy radio. After some minutes here, I begin my descent, quickly running into hordes of tour groups of Chinese tourists who have just finished lunch and begun coming up the mountain.

To escape this bedlam, I find a little used side path. It leads me through a set of large terraces where the monks’ vegetable garden is planted.

Pavillion of Troubled Monk

Ahead lies a beautiful yellow pavillion. Approaching it, I am dissuaded and intimidated by a loud striking noise coming from the pavillion. Circling lower down the slippery path, can look up from the vegetable garden to the pavillion where a solitary monk paces around like a caged lion, as if in a rage or distess, striking the pillars violently each time he completes a circuit. Leaving the troubled monk to his thoughts, I return to the main stairway, make my way through the mass of tourists coming up, until I reach the cable lift and retrace the route down the mountain, across the lake, and into the parking lot to the waiting taxi, and back into the traffic of the 10 millions of Chengdu.

From Chengdu, China, the 49th Miss International 2009 will be crowned tonight. The 64 contestants vying for the crown are getting ready for the finals and are all excited to know who will be proclaimed the winner. Our very own Miss Philippines, Melody Gersbach, is a strong favorite to land in the Top 3 and might even get a good shot at taking it all the way.

Here are my 15 personal picks to place in the competition:

Laksmi Rodriguez of Venezuela

Melody Gersbach of the Philippines

Rayanne Morais of Brazil

Ksenia Hrabovskaya of Russia

Sona Skoncova of Slovakia

Melania Santiago of Spain

Cassandra D'Ermilio of Belgium

Yuka Nakayama of Japan

Mathilde Muller of France

Harshita Saxena of India

Anagabriela Espinoza of Mexico

Qian Wang of China

Angelika Jakubowska of Poland

Chanel Beckenlehner of Canada

Illuminata James of Tanzania

Who will be the big winner tonight?

I enjoy seeing tradditional tourist sites, but find I get more joy from spontaneous encounters.

Outside our Xi’an hotel room was a normal city street with three lanes of traffic going in each direction. One afternoon Rhapsody, Bucky and I went for a walk. When we walked by a fast food store an ernest boy came running out saying what sounded like “pomodo! pomodo!,” which I guessed to mean photo. So I had us wait out front while he got his friend who took a group photo of us. I liked this boys face. So I took out my camera had his friend take one picture for me too:

Now China is in transition. They have the new big brand stores with glass storefronts where prices are marked and you pay list price and they also still have the old way, open air storefronts where nothing is marked and you haggle over price, often 50% off. Now I find most of these old Chinese storefront neighborhoods depressing because visually they are. The stores have silver roll top garage doors, the buildings above them are dull gray and usually chipped and if they happen to have the stores name in English there is usually a misspelling (i.e. Sonton Beauty Cener). As you walk past these establishments, a bra store is next to a shoe store, which is next to a water store, next to a sewing store, which is next to a hardware store which is next to a cheap eatery full of steaming boiling big metal soup pots, but anchored in the middle of all this mini commerce is the thing I find most entertaining in China, an open fruit and meat market.

At each of these markets is at least one cheap place to eat some grilled meats or seafood or a bowl of soup for 5 Yuan ($0.75) and no matter how many of these rinky-dink food set ups I see each time I am oddly charmed. I feel as if I am seeing something humble and alive and I like to photograph their pre-orchestration prep before the big dinner rush and the owners let me. Here are the meats ready for grilling:

As I photograph I partially feel (because we can’t speak) like I am a dog snooping and sniffing their personal wares while they just stare at me, occasionally making comments to their friends.

Here they can’t afford and don’t need the latest “George Forman only on TV grilling machine,” nor Martha Stewart’s over priced but prettily packaged spice kits. Sometimes in America I would be momentarily seduced when I saw some new cooking gizmo in a store, but most of the time I am like I don’t have room to store one more thing in my kitchen!

So here is their grill, a steel rectangle filled with coal chunks and over those coals they boil water in a beat up tea kettle and grill meat. I love the sack of extra coal on the right, but the burning coal did make it hard for my son to breathe.

Here are their spices ready for sprinkling along with the oil for basting:

Here is the hot stuff, a Sichuan Chef essential:

And here is where the soup lady makes her soup:

And here is where the happy customers eat the simple meal:

I wished I could have photographed this spot when it was full of happy eating customers, but we had a train to catch to Beijing.

Xie Xie For Today

Kate

India’s BPO guru – Wipro Technologies has opened a global delivery center in Chengdu, China to provide IT and BPO services to its customers.

Wipro states that the new facility will be capable of reaching  1,000 seats in capacity.

The new Shared Services Center will broaden its service capabilities in tandem with Wipro’s existing presence in Shanghai.
It will extend the company’s portfolio of IT services to its customer with an initial focus in the first year on testing and enterprise application services for the manufacturing, banking, financial services & insurance industries.

The company said that the center will provide multilingual services in English, Chinese and Japanese. Wipro currently employs over 100 people and plans on increasing headcount in 2010.

LET"S GIVE OUR ALL-OUT SUPPORT FOR MELODY!

If the steps above are not clear enough for viewing, here is a repeat of the procedures:

1. Log-on to this link.
2. Click English Version
3. Click 49th Miss International (Japanese Version)
4. Scroll down and click the 2009 – 49th Miss International
5. Click English edition
6. Look for Melody
7. Enter Miss Philippines code
8. Vote

or

1. Log-on to this link
2. Click English Version
3. Look for Miss Philippines
4. Enter correct code
5. Vote

Miss Philippines Melody Gersbach in her national costume at Miss International 2009.

The finals will be this coming Saturday night, November 28, from Chengdu, Province of Sichuan, China.

Photographed by lille abe

If you like my work and wanna show it by inviting me to one of your groups, you are very welcome to do that, but please do not leave any graphic logos! I’ll delete them.

View On Black

– License

Our personal history quietly trails us, like an unseen sack we unknowingly drag along a beach that covers our tracks. But flickers of now bring back flickers of then and if we turn our heads real quick, we can see our own footprints before they’re erased. Who are we? Many things. Is there enough time for all of the me’s, the us’s, to get out before we die? Hope not. Yet I am the same, we are essentially the same throughout our lives, aren’t we? Just a few different hats at times and always returning to our favorite ones. I mean Madonna keeps the “reinvent yourself” idea as an option. She actually yells that concept with hands on hips from a grand stage and yet, has she really reinvented herself? Redressed many times over, I’ll give her and I am quite jealous of her wardrobe budget!

Today I wore black leggings, black socks, gray flats, a long long-sleeved cream shirt and a cream hat that I could flip the edge up or down on. As I looked down at my outfit during the day (as we took photos at the two thousand year old Terra Cotta Warriors in XI’an, China) I kept seeing images of an old me, from the Fall of 1986. That was the year I spent a college semester abroad at twenty-two years old in London studying theater and business. When I first got the idea to go my dad said, “You’re such a dreamer Kate,” and right before my trip my older sister Booie (short for Barbara) gave me a present. She bought me black stir up leggings, a black and bright blue sweater and a hat in those same black and blue colors that I could fold the edge down on or not. I wore the heck out of that ensemble. If you looked at photos of me on that four month trip you might think I had only one outfit. Kate at a pub! Kate at The Old Vic Theater! Kate in Paris! Kate on the boat to Amsterdam (just before throwing up from seasickness) and Kate in a real Irish pub in The Ring of Kerry on Thanksgiving Day 1986.

So today right before going to see the warriors my Skype phone rang. What am I George Jetson? It was my dad, my sister Christa and her sister-in-law Emily (who was in from Atlanta for the holiday).

“Why is she in China?” Emily asked.

“Because she wanted an adventure,” Christa answered.

“Do you exercise Emily?” I asked. Emily is an older woman, brown haired pulled back, brown eyes, rosy cheeks and a soft Atlanta Georgian voice.

“I swim thanks to your sister,” she answered (my sister Christa is a swim instructor among many other things.)

“Because your body moves so easy, I said, “I can see that from here. I want that flexibility when I am older.”

Emily beamed and moved from side to side in her chair like a kid does responding to too much attention.

“Christa, what are you having for Thanksgiving?” I asked my sister drolly, “Turkey?”

She laughed and then told Rhapsody and I all the yummy foods they will eat that day.

After the list Rhapsody exclaimed, “Pie? I want pie!”

“There will be twenty-two of us there,” my Dad added.

“Blueberry is Rhapsody’s favorite pie.” I said.

“I make a good blueberry pie,” said Christa.

“Where will you be on that day?” asked my Dad who had cotton in his nose. He sometimes get a bloody nose from the medication he takes for his heart.

“We board a sleeper train that night from XI’an to Beijing. I sprung the extra money for the soft beds, what ever that means, instead of the hard.”

“Cool,” said Christa.

“Yeah I hear we will be stared at a lot on the train,” I added.

“Oh great, I’m so tired of being watched,” piped Rhapsody, “Yesterday at lunch a woman just stared at me my whole meal.”

“Did you smile back?” asked Christa.

“No!” Rhapsody answered.

Christa laughed again.

“So can you call us on Thanksgiving?” asked my dad.

“We will get to the hotel at 8:00 am my time, which is 7:00 pm your time. We used to be twelve hours apart but China doesn’t practice daylight sayings time changes so now we are thirteen. I’ll connect to the internet first thing when we get to our hotel and we’ll try.”

“Great!” said Christa.

After that we hung up so we could get to breakfast before the warriors. After a buffet breakfast a driver, who spoke very little English, drove us to the warrior site (an hour outside the city) in a very comfortable black exterior, tan leather interior four-door sedan. When we arrived we picked a guide who spoke English to take us around the site for 100 Yuan (about $13 USD). She told us to call her Helen. I asked for her Chinese name and now I can’t remember it.

After a golf cart ride to the site, Helen took us into Pit #1 where 6000 warriors are, but only 2000 have been uncovered and reglued. Of all the warriors discovered only one was intact, a kneeling arrowsmen. All the other clay soldiers, generals and captains have been smashed into sometimes a thousand pieces and then recreated from the shattered remains. It is wild to stand there and look at this history made two thousand years ago. They say 700,000 workers built it. How is that number confirmed? This place created a lot of jobs then and now. Hmmm how can we use that concept in America?

“Bucky, what do you think of today?”

“Cool,” Bucky answered.

“More or less of what you expected?”

“More,” he answered.

“And Rhapsody how about you?”

“It was long and painful,” she said (she has a cold and is dramatic),” but still a little cool.” (Ah the challenge of traveling with an almost teen!)

Helen said many times during the tour, “Sometimes the farmer who discovered this site when he was drilling for a well is here. He is a national hero.”

“Was the land his?” I asked.

“No. The government owns all the land in China,” she answered.

“Oh yes, I forgot that.” I replied.

At the end of the tour Helen took us to a store and there was the farmer with bad teeth sitting behind a table of books for sale. The Chinese are strong sales people and natural marketers. So much is this will bring you good luck, this will bring you happiness or harmony, if you eat smell, taste or touch what ever the thing is. If something gives you momentary direction or hope when you need it. OK. I’m for it, but I don’t need things so much for that.

Helen said, “You can take a photo with him or get his signature.”

So I told Bucky, “I don’t really value a signature or a photo with a stranger. Do you?”

“Me neither,” said Bucky.

So we headed home after the long day with some miniature replicas of the warriors for Bucky to play with.

After dinner the kids watched a movie and I went to hear music in the hotel’s lounge. It was two singers with long black hair, purple sundresses and purple pumps. A one man band, a guy with hip rectangular black eyeglasses was behind a keyboard wearing a purple shirt. They called themselves The Philippines. They played Simon and Garfunkel and Fleetwood Mac and when I sat down they began singing a song I had not heard since college, Fallen by Lauren Wood.

http://www.imeem.com/artists/lauren_wood/music/i0tdSrKK/lauren-wood-fallen/

I used to listen to Nicolette Larson’s version of this song over and over and over again on her Nick of Time album. Back then in 1986 I had no idea how far one could fall. I think I know now but who knows? But I do know that I am going to wear that same outfit (that I saw the warriors in) on the train because it is comfortable for traveling and that this year instead of calling my family from Ireland on Turkey Day I will call my crazy family of twenty-two from BEI-freakin-JING, and this makes me both laugh and smile.

In 1986 when I came back from my London trip, right before Christmas, I gave my dad a present I had made up in London. It was a t-shirt with the phrase, “See Dad, Dreams Do Come True.” I wonder what I’ll get him on this China trip? Maybe another t-shirt that says, “See Dad, 23 Years Later And Still Dreaming.”

I don’t know, but I’ll keep paddling, keep wearing the outfits that I love over and over again and I’ll keep calling my family.

Happy Thanksgiving. Happy Thanks, Gives. Give. Happy. Thanks.

Xie Xie

Kate

Below are the photos.

#1 is: of us standing in front of Pit #1:

#2 is: a close up of a captain’s hands. I love hands. Feeling another palm in mine is the best. I wanted to reach out and slip my hand into his right hand and feel what someone else sculpted two thousand years ago.

#3 is: Soldiers have a buns in their hair, generals, a triangle and captains a butterfly hair do. I guess two thousand years ago I would have preferred to be a captain and I think Madonna’s hair people might have chosen the same.

Obama’s face is appearing on the cover of one of the most popular and heavily promoted magazines in news stands in Chengdu, and there has certainly been broad coverage of his visit here on national TV. Yet plumbing what ordinary Chinese people here actually think is difficult, and not just due to linguistic limitations preventing me from getting a conversation in Chinese beyond a discussion of whether or not Obama has an apple.

It is a guidebook truism that Chinese keep conversation away from politics. How could a Chinese imagine discussing politics with a blabber mouth Westerner? Anything they say might appear on the internet and that would be the end of them. History has been too awful to play with political babble. In living memory, careers have been ruined and lives lost by neighbors’, coworkers’ or family members’ accusations of political deviancy. This legacy does not promote idle political gossip, and though the system today is much less draconian, conformity remains the option of choice. To get even a nuance of the official line imprecise can be harmful, it is better just keep silent.

Furthermore, what a Chinese says has no affect on political decisions taken behind closed doors in Beijing, so as a practical matter why bother with opinions? Of course the my opinion has no greater effect on decisions in London or Washington, but in the Anglo-sphere everyone fancies that they are talk show hosts, so our incessant political chit chat goes on. It is a charming national hobby, like keeping caged songbirds is in China, and about as meaningful bird cackle.

So, even educated well traveled Chinese with command of English and knowledge of Westerners’ proclivity for political gabble, do not easily rise to the bait. Nevertheless, in careful conversations I have not heard any hint of anything approaching enthusiasm for Obama. No Obama mania in Chengdu. Maybe it is not wise to be favorable about foreigners who at heart are really only hegemonists without real care for China’s welfare.

Actually the Chinese probably hear little of what Obama says so they have no reason to get enthusiastic. Obama did not manage to reach the Chinese people directly through TV broadcast as previous American presidents have been able to do on visits to authoritarian countries. No surprise then that Obama has been accused of pusillanimity even by the liberal New York Times. Barry, though, is playing the long game. He is not going to be pushy at this point, and accepts what his hosts offer, a rather stage managed event with hand picked students in Shanghai, something like a Baby Bush town hall meeting. Worse, Obama’s tame encounter was not easily viewable in China except by dedicated netizens.

However, Obama is playing hard ball realpolitick. Venting frustration on currency or trying to play to the galleries at Fox, will not in any way advance substantive American interests on key issues like currency, Iran or North Korea. Badgering Hu about human rights will not make China a democracy and will make more difficult any practical cooperation on essential strategic issues, vital to American interests.

But here in Chengdu, it is hard to judge such matters not least because Obama’s words are so little covered. Even in the English language official Chinese press, there is almost no record of what Obama actually said except that the Forbidden City is “majestic.” He apparently neglected to call the Great Wall great. Ever the considerate hosts, the Chinese did not complain at the oversight.

In contrast to the lack of coverage of what Obama said, the China Daily does report in some detail what President Hu and Premier Wen say about the visit and relations with the US. Why report what Obama says when you can listen to your own leadership? Not so very different, the US media is about as unbalanced in its America-centric line, with few quotes from the Chinese leadership or backgrounders on China’s thinking.

These obstacles notwithstanding, Obama’s efforts to be a polite young man, willing to listen and not given to hectoring, has been noted by some in the intellectual elite here in Chengdu. One said that previous American presidents all started out by bashing China, and then over the years came around to be sensible by the end of their terms, presumably because they eventually realize that China is too big a Panda to be ignored. Obama has jumped over this entire learning curve.

Still suspicions lurk here. For example, to one Chengdu intellectual the wrangling about the dollar/renminbi exchange rate has nothing to do with the introductory economics text book truism that countries with wide trade surpluses will naturally see their currencies rise in markets against the currencies of countries with large trade deficits. Rather, it is an insidious ploy. This revaluation trick is what the US did to Japan in similar circumstances back in the 1980s, and look at Japan now. Twenty years of economic crisis! The American are just trying to reprise this tactic to cripple the Chinese economy.

Yet another saw it a good sign that there was a detailed joint statement. This does not occur in all US-China meetings and was seen as a reflection that both sides want to get on with things they agree about, and there is a lot that they are agreeing on. No time to review the joint statement now, but it merits a look when time permits.

One friend commented that the Chinese people are very cautious, implying that it will take a lot to convince them that the US is dealing fairly with them. Probably even once so convinced, the Chinese would be reluctant to admit it.

At the end the bright note that was repeatedly commented upon among the Chinese I spoke to, was Obama’s big smile as he got on the plane. Maybe it was just that he knew he didn’t have to struggle to eat with chop sticks any more, but there was a widespread perception here that this smile was a highly meaningful indication that whatever was discussed in secret, the whole thing went well and that is good for everybody.

The Miss International 2009 which is currently in the thick of pre-pageant activities en route to the coronation night on November 28, is one of 4 global beauty competitions simultaneously happening this month. Except for Miss World 2009 which will culminate on December 12, the three others will have their respective coronation nights tomorrow (for Miss Earth 2009 and Mrs. World 2009) and next Saturday (for the above-mentioned.) I am sharing with you a video capturing the various events which the delegates of Miss International 2009 have lend their presence to thus far.

Many thanks to ecurb of OPMB Worldwide Forums for the video.

This is a china test.

November 19th

A Lot to Talk About

No doubt avidly following this blog, Obama too has become intrigued by China and followed our footsteps here, though he stayed on the eastern coast without venturing inland. He did the usual novice tourist trip to the Great Wall, and while one would have thought that the president has better uses for his time, a visit to the great wall is practically forced upon foreign dignitaries by Chinese hosts, who I can attest can be very insistent on an agenda related to the glories of China. Kissinger, paranoid as he was, believed that the visit to the Great Wall was a ploy to wear him down and wring out more concessions.

Barry is a thoughtful lad, though. Stuffing his hands in his pockets against the cold, he got away from his entourage and did part of the walk along the Great Wall alone, presumably contemplating Ozymandius, wondering which side of the Pacific he lives on. Afterwards he said reflectively, “It reminds you of the sweep of history. It gives you a good perspective on a lot of the day to day things. They don’t amount to much in the scope of history. Our time here on earth is not that long, and we better make the best of it.” A serious young man. Impressive.

However, there is the report that the solitary walk was in fact choreographed for photographers, and that White House aides were exultant at the snaps, even though it is thirty years since Nixon used this hackneyed photo op and symbol of China’s fear of the outside world to make polite statements about the great history of China. These Americans seem to manipulate views of reality; can they really be trusted in what they say?

Part of the matter is that there are two broad views of China in America. Basically Americans agree that China is an oppressive dictatorship as well as an economic and therefore ultimately political and military super power in the making. The difference is what to do about: Liberals vs. Cold Warriors

Thoughtful liberals, like Barry, use the broad historical analogy of the inability of the international system to absorb the rise of Germany leading up to WWI and then its even more unsatisfactory sequel, WWII. Better than go through that sort of catastrophe is to accommodate, be friendly and polite; welcome the Chinese to the world market place, making a buck while you are at it; give them a feeling of respect as if they had a say in world affairs; and gradually let materialism and internet porn corrupt their willingness to work so hard. The Chinese will end up all driving Buicks and listening to Britney Spears on their i-pods, not realizing that they have been fobbed off with outdated brands, and we all live happily ever after in a multi-polar world.

Thoughtful Cold Warriors use the broad historical analogy of the breakup of the Soviet Union. Through the pressures of ongoing containment and full spectrum military dominance by the USA, eventually the internal contradictions of an oppressive regime will tear it apart, and a Chinese Gorbachov will give up the game, let Tibet go, let Taiwan go, let Xinjiang go (if you can keep a lid on Islamic extremism there), maybe even, more psychedelically,  give Hong Kong back to the British and split China into southern Cantonese and northern Mandarin states. America remains the sole super  power guaranteeing world peace and justice, and we all live happily ever after. One small detail, the Chinese call this hegemony and they really don’t like it at all.

Reality being always cruel, there are chinks in the plausibility of both the happy tales, Liberal and Cold Warrior. However, Barry is in the driver’s seat right now, so it is the accomodationist view that prevails. The Chinese do not gloat publicly, its always better to keep your thoughts as secret as possible. Moreover, with their own long history of bureaucracies the Chinese realize that the Pentagon and the cowboys in Langley still carry on. Presidents come and go, but the pros stay on the job. Likewise the Chinese know that in a few years the Americans might vote in a sequel to the Cheney-Rumsfield show, even if it can not be re-run for a third time.

The joint US-China communique issued in the names of Hu and Obama through all its boiler plate, trivia and bland details, deserves more analysis than can be given in this post. But listen to Obama accepting language for which the Chinese were no doubt desperate; Obama walking the talk of Brookings liberal think-tank building strategic trust, soothing words for those fearful of outside enemies who once vainly sought shelter behind a great wall:

“The two countries reiterated that the fundamental principle of respect for each other’s sovereignty and territorial integrity is at the core of the three U.S.-China joint communiqués which guide U.S.-China relations.  Neither side supports any attempts by any force to undermine this principle.”

If this seems like it hardly needs saying and sounds more paranoid than even Kissinger at the Great Wall, the Chinese do not easily forget that the Americans supported guerillas in southern Yunnan as well as Tibet through much of the 1950s while its military commander in chief in Asia publicly urged nuking them. Further back, America opposed the rise of the current ruling regime in the 1940’s  and to this day provides high tech weaponry to the breakaway province of Taiwan. Strange how some folks just won’t let go of their pain.

The mantra of building strategic thrust is now being chanted throughout Washington. As for its prospects, listen, a China Daily reporter presents the views of the man in the Chinese street, “Those I spoke with are not in awe of Obama and fully know that China is once again one of the leading world powers. Many said that they doubt the US will cooperate with China. Some asked if he really wants peace with their nation. Or as Fu put it: “China’s power is rising. Obama showed that the US is worried about the rise.”

High Stakes Mah Jong

A Long History

November 5

Cycle Scrum in Chengdu

Chengdu is an immense New York or London sized city with a population of over 10 million. Outside rush hour it takes over an hour to drive from the heart of Chengdu to the countryside beyond. Even to get around the major historic sites around the traditional center of Chengdu, the distances are too far to be conveniently walked. Fortunately one advantage of the backpacker mansion hotel is that they rent bicycles, affordable at $2 a day. Bikes are a very practical way of getting around huge and flat Chengdu. Of course there are vast numbers of cars, over 10 million new cars were sold last year in China, and the city’s spread makes bicycles impractical for getting between the inner center and the outer suburbs. But bicycles may well transport as much or more traffic as cars for people who only need to travel around one quadrant of the megalopolis.

Set off unsteadily, but the traffic is light on the Ming fantasy Qin Tai street and there is a bicycle lane, as there is on most major avenues. Sometimes the bike lanes are on the street separated from the cars and buses by a line of steel barriers. However, passing out under the northern gateway to Qin Tai onto a major boulevard, the bike lane turns right up a wide sidewalk, sharing a clearly marked space with pedestrians.

With landmarks from the map in my mind, trundle along nicely, after a while cross a major avenue and enter a street level bike lane protected by intrusion from cars. Along with the bikes are an equal number of scooters or light motorcycles. These are all electric, silent and smokeless. Very impressive and a clear technological lead, in a modest sub-sector, but real nonetheless. Another interesting innovation is an umbrella pole on some bikes so you can cycle in the rain and stay dry.

Cycle Monitor Waves Her Flag

At major heavily trafficked intersections there are bike monitors, armed with red flags and whistles to insure that the cycles all obey the red lights. Crowds of thirty or more cycles accumulate at a stop light, and it feels like a bit of a scrum taking off with the starters’ whistle, but despite accelerating off at different speeds, everyone seems very traffic aware with wide peripheral vision, and with only very occasional ringing of cycle bells, the traffic sorts itself out in a business like way, when such a process would surely lead to gunfire and deaths if tried in Latin America.

Get to the key landmark of a bridge over the Jin Jiang river which tells me I have gone far enough to reach my destination, the cottage of Du Fu, the Tang dynasty poet.  I begin to iterate around the neighborhood to the right of the bridge where it should be. It is an area of much new construction of high rise apartments, with large lots where whatever was there has been leveled for new building. Find a promising looking cluster of ancient style buildings, but this turns out to be another Ming fantasy tourist trap for Chinese tourists, all shop fronts and restaurants, not the poet’s cottage.

Stop for directions at the ticket window to what turns out to be some ancient monastery. With the aid of the map, I am able to ask the wizened ticket seller and a well dressed woman where the poet’s cottage is. No where near here. Missed a landmark and after much gesticulation with the map, figure out that the route has gone south rather than northeast. Nothing for it but to set off again, checking the map more frequently against landmarks and the street signs which most considerately are usually given in Roman letters as well as Chinese characters. Though it’s a bit of a trek, make it to the poet’s cottage in reasonable time.

Bird Seller with Cages on Bike

The Philippines’ entry to the Miss International 2009, Melody Gersbach, is now in Chengdu, China giving her 100% best to represent the country amidst the company of equally beautiful women competing for the crown. Below are some of her latest photos with other candidates. Her beauty of face truly stands out here!

Miss Philippines Melody Gersbach and Miss Poland Angelika Jakubowska

(L-R) Miss Czech Republic Darja Jarcukevicova, Miss Finland Linda Wikstedt, Miss Philippines Melody Gersbach, Miss Poland Angelika Jakubowska and Miss USA Aileen Yapp (who is half-Filipina)

(L-R) Miss Finland Linda Wikstedt, Miss USA Aileen Yapp, Miss Northern Marianas Sorene Maratita, Miss Philippines Melody Gersbach, Miss Czech Republic Darja Jacukevicova and Miss Poland Angelika Jakubowska

Miss Philippines Melody Gersbach (2nd from right) with the representatives from Indonesia, Northern Marianas and Martinique.

Keep up the good work, Melody!

Finals night will be on November 28.

[November 7-8, 2009]

Warning: This is a long-ish post, with lots of images.

The Plan

I had originally intended on taking a little more time while in Hong Kong to relax and visit local places I hadn’t been to yet, like Aberdeen. However, I’ve learned to keep an eye on weather forecasts when planning a visit to a natural attraction after some woes in the past. I usually just look up weather sites on Google, but I’ve been using Zoover lately to check on smaller places like Jiǔzhàigōu that are off the radar, so to speak, on other weather pages. I’ve found that weather forecasts and reports are not always accurate, even on the day, so I only give them a little weight, but their accuracy is fine when it comes to expecting rain versus partly-cloudy, for example.

So on the Friday evening prior, I looked up Jiǔzhàigōu’s weather forecast and saw that it was supposed to be pretty nice on Sunday and Monday, before a cold snap settled in. I was aiming for Jiǔzhàigōu anyway as a side-trip from Chéngdū. Normally, Jiǔzhàigōu is a 12-13 hour bus ride from Chéngdū, but there are frequent flights that take only 45 minutes or so. The flights start at around RMB800, versus the RMB100+ bus ticket, but since I had a limited window of opportunity, I decided to splurge on the flight. I would just take the bus on the way back to Chéngdū.

Unfortunately, I had just missed out on low Saturday airfare to Chéngdū from Guǎngzhōu (around RMB440, now over RMB700), but I could still make a Sunday morning flight at the RMB440 rate. Then, I could fly to Jiǔzhàigōu (RMB810) and arrive by mid-afternoon. I’ve been using Ctrip and eLong for domestic flights in China (sometimes for hotels, too). They usually have the same flights for the same fares, but I sometimes experience technical trouble with one and then switch to the other. Also, this time, Ctrip still offered the low RMB440 fare to Chéngdū, while eLong said the price had gone up.

However, there was no way I could get to Guǎngzhōu that early on Sunday if I stayed over Saturday in Kowloon, so I had to leave Kowloon on Saturday and spend the Saturday night in Guǎngzhōu. Problem: I had already booked the guesthouse room through Saturday evening. Fortunately, the owner were nice enough to credit me the cost of the room for the next visit, provided I returned by December, which I thought was a safe bet. Otherwise, I’m out HK$150.

Kowloon to Guǎngzhōu

So on Saturday, I took an afternoon express train to Guǎngzhōu. The route was getting to be familiar, so I knew what to expect. It was so familiar that I didn’t take any photos on the Kowloon side. The only reason I took photos of the trip on the Guǎngzhōu side was to record how long it took me to get through Immigration.

Beating most everyone else out of the train to avoid a huge wait later. Having a backpack helps a sprint up the stairs while everyone else is waiting for the escalator.

Five minutes later, I was through the health checkpoint and Immigration. Welcome to China.

An evening in Guǎngzhōu

I had pre-booked a hotel near the Guǎngzhōu East Rail Station, since there was a shuttle bus to the Guǎngzhōu airport (Baiyunport) nearby. The He Yuan hotel is an easy walk from the train station, and had a reasonable price for the area.

The Tianhe area is a commercial center, with lots of high-rises and new construction. Passport services for U.S. citizens is also here, too. I had gotten extra pages added to my passport the first time I was in Guǎngzhōu.

I went walking around later that evening, not having explored the area before (I’d always been focused on a specific task, like amending my passport, or getting to the shuttle). Eventually, it became too cold and windy, so I cut it short.

Citic Plaza dominates one end of the park, across from the Guǎngzhōu East Rail Station.

The Westin has some distinctive architecture.

Before I headed back, I re-visited a nice restaurant I’d eaten at before. I added my notes to the Flickr pages, and I’m too lazy to copy/paste them here.

At the hour I went, it wasn’t very busy, so the staff were chatty with me. They were interested in what I was writing down, and why I was taking photos of the dishes. I consulted my notes and told them what I thought of the meal. When the bill came, for some reason, they had knocked off RMB30 from the total. Were they trying to buy a favorable review?

Guǎngzhōu to Chéngdū

The next morning, bright and early, I roused the red-eyed hotel front desk staffer from her nap and went to the Tianhe shuttle bus departure. I ended up taking a taxi, though I probably could have just walked the short distance. I’m glad I took the taxi, though, since the bus left promptly at 06:00.

Another hotel pick-up and 50 minutes later, we were at Baiyunport. It was the first time I’d been there so early in the morning, but it was still bustling.

This was the first time I’d been to the ground-floor waiting areas. It was more like a typical Chinese bus waiting area than the more placid airport waiting areas upstairs.

Shuttles took passengers out to the airplanes.

(Hmph. I tried embedding a Flash player showing a short video from the airplane, but WordPress stripped it out from the post. Try this instead.)

The flight was pretty smooth, as the cloud layers were well-defined that day.

Chéngdū transit

We took off a little late, so we didn’t reach Chéngdū until 11:00. Still, there was plenty of time before my 13:00 flight to Jiǔzhàigōu. I had to collect my backpack from the baggage carousel, then check into the Jiǔzhàigōu flight. Plenty of time!

But it turns out that the check-in for regional flights is handled in the separate, old terminal. I spent some time figuring that out. The monitors were showing check-in counters for my Jiǔzhàigōu flight as counters 52-55, but the counters in the new terminal only go up to the high 40’s. The information booth staff sorted me out, and then I was on my way out to the old terminal (out the new terminal, turn right, head down towards the bus depot).

I had probably walked that same way after getting off the plane from Guǎngzhōu.

Lucky me, there was free wi-fi internet in the waiting area, so I spent some time doing more research on Jiǔzhàigōu.

Chéngdū to Jiǔzhàigōu

As with the flight to Chéngdū, the airplane wasn’t completely full. There were several empty rows towards the back, so I moved back and took a window seat on the left side. This was a lucky move, since Jiǔzhàigōu is north of Chéngdū, so the Tibetan plateau comes into view first on the left side of the plane.

The flight was pretty short, perhaps 35 minutes of cruising. Soon enough, it was time to turn off all electronics and stow all carry-ons. Except I saw some passengers still taking photos and shooting videos. What the heck!

Well, if the plane’s going to crash because of those bozos, I might as well get some photos, too.

Jiǔzhài-Huánglóng airport

We landed safely, no thanks to rule-violating idiots like me. Jiǔzhài-Huánglóng is a small regional airport, high up in the mountains. I stepped off the plane into some rather bracing air. The overcast sky was a bit disheartening, but maybe it would get better on Monday…

The mountainous landscape is quite lovely. Freakin’ cold, though.

The airport is nearly 3500m above sea level. As I walked down to the baggage claim area, I wasn’t sure if my shortness of breath was due to the altitude, nerves, or my urgently needing to use the lavatory.

Welcome to Jiǔzhàigōu!

Well, almost. There was still a 90-minute minivan ride out to the park area.

Wow, you made it to the end of this post!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Farhan Bokhari, Islamabad

China has agreed to sell Pakistan at least 36 advanced fighter jets in a deal worth as much as $1.4bn, according to Pakistani and western officials.

Beijing will supply two squadrons of the J-10 fighter jet in a preliminary agreement that could lead to more sales, said a Pakistani official. The official said Pakistan might buy “larger numbers” of the multi-role aircraft in the future, but dismissed reports that Islamabad had signed a deal to purchase as many as 150 of the fighter jets.

Defence experts described the agreement with China as a landmark event in Pakistan’s defence relationship with the military power. China’s transition from a manufacturer of low-fighters to more advanced jets comparable to some western models is seen as evidence of Beijing’s increasing strategic clout in Asia.

“China is developing a real capacity to produce and export its arms. At one point, the Chinese were dependent on imported Russian technology, but obviously China has advanced significantly beyond those days,” said Marika Vicziany, Professor of Asian studies at Monash University in Melbourne.

“This agreement should not simply be seen in the narrow context of Pakistan’s relations with China,” said Abdul Qayyum, a retired Pakistani general.

“There is a wider dimension. By sharing its advanced technology with Pakistan, China is … also saying to the world that its defence capability is growing rapidly.”

China has supplied Pakistan with fighter jets for more than three decades. But Beijing has seldom supplied Pakistan’s air force with advanced fighter aircraft. Islamabad turned to France for Mirage fighter jets in the 1970s and to the US for F-16s in the 1980s.

Pakistan has a fleet of 45 F-16s built by Lockheed Martin. The Pakistani air force is using the fighter jet in its campaign against militants in South Waziristan.

The US has agreed to sell Islamabad another 18 new F-16s and Pakistani officials also expected the US to supply about a dozen older versions of the aircraft.

Over the past decade, China and Pakistan have collaborated on building their first jointly produced advanced fighter jet, known as the JF-17, or “Thunder”. Pakistan is expected to roll out the first domestically built version of the Thunder within weeks.

Pakistan’s air force plans to purchase at least 250 of the Thunder fighters over the next four to five years.

Experts see the new Pakistani focus on China as evidence that Beijing is trying to expand its military power.

“Countries like Iran and possibly some of the Middle Eastern countries would be keen to deal with China if they can find technology which is comparable to the west,” said one western official in Islamabad.

“Pakistan will work as the laboratory to try out Chinese aircraft. If they work well with the Pakistani air force, others will follow.”

Source: http://pakistankakhudahafiz.wordpress.com/2009/11/11/pakistan-in-chinese-fighter-jet-deal/

Yesterday the boys and I checked out the “Panda Research Base,” or whatever they call it.  Really, it’s just a zoo.  With pandas.  Only pandas.  I had no interest whatsoever, but the boys were pretty keen on it so off we went.  Pandas are nocturnal, which means we had to get up early and schlep out to the panda zoo in time to watch them eat dinner before they passed out for the day.  There were both giant pandas and red pandas (which look more like raccoons or oversized ferrets), and most were divided into their own cages.  Some had outdoor “natural habitat” areas, and some were just locked up in a small glass and concrete cell, with way too much poop on the floor.  Zoos in general are somewhat depressing.  Zoos in China make you want to cry.  Side note: I heard that at the Beijing Zoo, unless you were a panda or a dolphin your cage was small and dirty and you were miserable and neglected.  The pandas here didn’t look much happier.

So we walked around, watched the pandas eat and act suicidal, and made our way back into town.  The boys weren’t feeling so hot, so we chilled out for a few hours.  One napped, the others watched a pirated Chinese copy of Indiana Jones, I tinkered around on the internet.  We then checked out a Chinese massage place down the street and had the shit beat out of us for an hour.  Those Chinese, they know what they’re doing with their hands.  Sometimes it’s uncomfortable, sometimes it tickles, sometimes it’s downright painful.  But when they’re done — oh baby you’re GOLDEN.  We then sauntered home with enormous grins on our faces and groaning and going “ohhhhh yeahhhh, that’s the spot.”  We rounded off our “spa” afternoon with a round of ginger tea, which turned out to be hot water with slices of lemon and loads of fresh sliced ginger and some honey.  That’s one hell of a cure-all.  Taking that little recipe back to the States with me.  Delicious.

We were all in agreement that we didn’t want another hot pot.  I’m a bit noodled/souped out (and starting to jones for western food — what I would do for some olive oil, a baguette, and a massive hunk of brie), and the boys were taking a day off from one-upping each other in the chili paste department.  (I would say they learned their lesson but I know better. I have no doubt they’ll be back at it again tonight.)  So rather, we walked around the hood and feasted on street food.  First up were steamed buns for me and pork dumplings for them.  Tasty, but cold, and cold isn’t exactly what you’re after for when it’s dark and chilly out.  From the bun place we lapped the block and ended back at a random corner with several different food carts on it.  Two vendors made little mini crepes that they’d then slather whatever you wanted on them: peanut butter, a whole rainbow of jellies, salty pickles, chilies, marshmallow fluff, you name it.  We each had a sweet crepe to start, and then some of the boys noticed a cart manned by a woman frying a whole manner of things: veggies, tofu, sausages, weird dried fish (we think), poop.  Yes, poop.  Two of the boys pointed toward a weird dried fish stick to give that a whirl and ended up with poop on a stick instead.  Good god that smelled foul.  There’s no way I was going to try that.  They did, and were choking on the spot.  “Yep.  Poop.  Holy god that’s gross.”  Don’t think they’ll live that one down.  The fried food lady knew her stuff and made for some pretty yummy street food, but everything was absolutely covered in salt and MSG and dripping with oil, and after my third stick I couldn’t take any more.  We had: cauliflower, green onions, tofu, poop (see above), potatoes, lotus root, and cucumber.  It was then back to the crepe man for more sweet treats.  Yum.

And so Meg and the Meatsticks comes to a close, with me heading east and them on a quick jaunt up to the Three Gorges before heading out west to Yunnan.  I sent them off with a bunch of American junk food I inherited from some dude along the way, and will possibly meet up with them in Thailand for round two.  I told them they’d be crying themselves to sleep tonight and Eddie corrected me: “We won’t have a bed to sleep in, because we won’t be able to find where we’re going.”  Apparently between four boys they lack skills in the cardinal directions department — something that’s been supremely entertaining for me.  They “can’t find their way out of a wet paper bag,” as Eddie puts it, and were always looking to me for directions.  How’s that for a wrench in the stereotype?  As for me, I’m off to get a haircut (something I REALLY hope I don’t regret) and roam around for a few hours before my train to Guilin.

And for those of you who were wondering, I don’t recommend the salted duck egg for breakfast.  Barf-o-la.

Reigning Bb. Pilipinas-International Melody Gersbach was honored with a send-off by the Bb. Pilipinas Charities, Inc. to the Miss International 2009 to be held in Chengdu, Province of Sichuan, China. The lovely Fil-German Bicolana is 23 years old, stands 5′6″ and measures an eye-catching 34-24-34. Her main objective is to capture a 5th Miss International crown for the country and follow the footsteps of victorious Filipinas in the same pageant – Gemma Cruz (1965), Aurora Pijuan (1971), Melanie Marquez (1979) and Precious Lara Quigaman (2005.)

Melody Gersbach waves to well-wishers during her send-off to Miss International 2009.

Melody will be joining around 60 other representatives from around the world as they compete for the crown currently being held by Alejandra Andreu of Spain. Finals will be on November 28.

With Melody's fresh face and disarming features, she is sure to make heads turn in Chengdu, China.

Melody Gersbach's aim is to become the 5th Filipina to win the Miss International crown.

Best of luck to Melody! As people say, bring home the bacon!

Images above are courtesy of Melvin Sia of OPMB Worldwide Forums.

I bet my eighty-two-year old Dad doesn’t even know this story. My mother was getting her masters when I was three and four years old. (As if raising eight children wasn’t enough!) When I was five my Mom began teaching and my parents hired a nice lady to watch me in the mornings until the yellow school bus would pick me up for the afternoon session of kindergarten at St. Catherine’s with the sweet smiling and sexy, Ms. Burns (I recall a priest left the priesthood for her ??).

Anyhow, it bothers me that I cannot remember the name of this nice lady who babysat me, but a few weeks back I did remember a special egg she used to make me. I think the egg memory came to me because when we first got here we did not have a toaster. Michael came up with the idea to make toast by buttering a piece of bread and placing it in the frying pan. We all found this kind of yummy. A few weeks after we purchased a toaster oven, which allowed me to bake cookies and muffins, when Michael said, “THAT toaster over has changed our lives,” I burst out laughing. It was true what he had said. We’ve all been living here without our usual simple comforts and you would not think a mere 999 yuan toaster oven is such a big deal, could bring so much joy! … until … you’ve been without one for a while combined with missing a lot of other familiar comforts.

So one afternoon, almost five-year-old Jin did her, “I’m hung-GREE! I’m hung-GREE!” plea. So I began to tell her a story about the special egg I used to eat when I was her age. I told her how this nice lady would butter a piece of bread on both sides and then with a round cookie cutter cut a hole in the center. She’d place the bread in the frying pan, toast one side, flip it and then put an egg in the hole and cook it. She also would toast fry the circle. I told Jin, “When it was all done. I would eat the yummy egg and ya know what? I would save the best part for last. Do you know what the best part was?”

“What?” Jin said with her wide black eyes.

“The crispy perfectly-toasted circle. But I’d never eat it till after my eggs.”

“OK!” Jin said gobbling up the story. Then she gobbled up the egg and gobbled up the toasted circle and rubbed her belly while murmuring, “Mmmmmmmmh.”

Jin eating the egg made Rhapsody want one, then Thorton and when Anne’s two daughters came over, Maddie wanted one and Malia just wanted the fry toasted bread.

Here is a picture of the egg:

Here is a picture of the toaster over that changed our lives (and those rubber muffin cups are awesome that Tracy brought from America):

It’s so seemingly fickle and funny what we remember and when we remember it. We can’t control that. We hardly control anything, really. But we can pass on the moments of kindnesses that fleetingly flicker like fireflies in our mind, when the present triggers the past.

Xie Xie
Kate

A Chengdu, nous logeons dans une rue complètement refaite à neuf mais dans un style ancien, et qui se targue d’être, en Chine, « The newest new old street ».

Cela est assez révélateur de la différence d’approche que nous pouvons avoir en matière d’architecture et de goût pour les vieilles pierres…

C’est assez réussi ceci dit, et il y règne une ambiance incroyable, ce qui révèle là aussi à quel point la Chine a pu changer depuis mon premier séjour là-bas : à l’époque, pas de lumières le soir dans les rues, pas même sur les axes majeurs, dans les grandes villes, tels que la Place Tian An Men, les gens rentraient tôt, se couchaient et se levaient tôt et jouissaient de très peu de distractions. A Chengdu, malgré tout, régnait déjà à l’époque une ambiance particulière, probablement liée à la douceur du climat même au cœur de l’hiver… les gens jouaient au Mahjong dans la rue, à longueur de journée, les personnes âgées sirotaient du thé en jouant aux cartes dans les multiples parcs, jardins et maisons de thé qui jalonnaient la ville, une atmosphère nonchalante qui contrastait énormément avec Beijing, où les températures à la même époque voisinaient avec les –10, voire -15°.

Les maisons de thé en bois ont disparu, elles étaient également des lieux de spectacles (cf. « les tambours » de Lao She pour s’imprégner de l’ambiance aujourd’hui disparue qui pouvait régner dans cette ville, mais aussi suivre l’exode de la population en Chine de l’invasion japonaise).

Nous voici donc dans une rue que nous connaissons pour y avoir séjourné il y a quelques années, alors qu’elle était justement en plein chantier, et où des newest new old houses émergeaient de terre…  cela est assez agréable même si ça  fait un peu vitrine touristique : tous les produits phares de la région y sont vendus, la rue est remplie de restaurants assez chics pour la plupart, où l’on peut manger en terrasse, ou à l’intérieur de cours carrées, assis sur les chaises en bambou typiques de la région, ou sur des reproductions de meubles classiques.

Des nettoyeurs d’oreilles se promènent entre les tables. Ils sont dotés d’outils terrifiants, de longues baguettes en métal qu’ils cognent les unes contre les autres, ils sont habillés en tenue traditionnelle mais modernité et préservation des tympans des volontaires obligent, une lampe frontale orne leur front…

Une ambiance de vacances règne vraiment dans la rue, et nous profitons bien des véritables festins quelle offre… la nourriture y est vraiment délicieuse…

Un peu trop épicées les petites brochettes !

Les épices du Sichuan sont très dangereuses, j’ai mis plus d’une 1/2 heure à m’en remettre, de ces sympathiques brochettes ! J’ai eu du mal à les terminer tant elles étaient épicées !!!! J’avais des palpitations à la fin du repas. La mort par gloutonnerie m’attend en Chine, je le sais ! Les dangers de la Chine sont multiples et pas toujours ceux auxquels on pense en priorité. Une épice bien dissimulée… La plus féroce certainement est le poivre du Sichuan (le Huajiao), délicieux, mais absolument terrible !
Journée calme en dehors des épices, ah non, j’oubliais ces chauffeurs de taxi fous, qui roulent sur le mauvais côté de la route parce que des routes d’une 10aine de voies, cinq pour chaque côté, ça ne suffit pas !!!!! (il a apparemment fait plein d’autres bêtises que je n’ai pas vues Arrive un moment où mieux vaut ne plus regarder !)