"…to catch her attention swift and quick, or morrow the marrow of her bones be thick." – Smashing Pumpkins; 'Cupid de Locke'
When in foreign countries, I am apparently wont to daydream about the girls I have associated with in the past. I am unsure what that makes of me. Is it that my mind wanders aimlessly or that those girls had nudged closer to my brain and heart and nearer to my unconscious than i had known?
I am sitting in the Hung Hom train station. It is the main station on the Kowloon side of Hong Kong (HK). A great big, square place, with great big windows all about on 3 of the 4 sides, the station is rife with a number of people, foreigners and HKers, milling about to wherever. There are a number of captive birds flitting to and fro in this modern aviary. I felt sorry for the little critters at first. Now, I see that these birds, stolen from their freer skies, are actually feasting on what-have-you's that we, people, have dropped. The birds escape through a minute design flaw in the riveted ceiling.
The buildings outside are HK buildings. They are all really big and broad, dominating whole fields of vision. One edifice after another make up the HK landscape (secret: I don't know how to use 'edifice' and am too lazy to look it up...or actually, my computer is running out of the batt'ries :P.) There are buildings, and there is Victoria Harbor. So many buildings – the fog or smog or steam obscure them further down on the horizon. Outside, taxes have lined up on the wrong side of the street (the left side that is, something that I will probably never get used to), all red and capable of seating up to 5 passengers. I know these fun facts because 1) I have my contacts in and 2) because every taxi has a little green sign on the front and back which blare their transport capacity. I feel that I would feel bad about asking a taxi driver to transport only myself somewhere. I imagine the tout/driver, dressed in his pristine blue uniform, looking down his nose up at me condescendingly…upwards (I am not a tall American, but I am larger than practically everyone here).
HK signs are in both Chinese and English. I am glad, for if they didn't, I would have never successfully navigated the metro. That would mean, I would not be typing but would be crying somewhere in the bowls of Kowloon.
"Hello, white girl dressed in all black eating a croissant and drinking some herbal tea" (I am sure it's herbal, cos that's what chicks drink for some reason). A long time ago, I wrote a song about what just walked past me without looking (enter objectification of women). How in the hell do people meet other people in big cities? In smaller towns, it's easy, as there is literally no one else around. Imagine standing in an elevator all day, of how awkward it is when the 'lift' is packed and also dead silent. People residing within cities lack any attention span because they see so many other people. Unless I go to a shop or store where someone must go to work everyday, I do not see the same person twice here. Although there is something refreshing about seeing new faces, but how does a body take any hold in this place? Truly, I enjoy HK, though I do not quite connect with this city. Then again, I don't connect anywhere. :} Okay, enough fretting, my train's here and I can stop babbling.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
05.31.10
"I am a mole, sticking his head above the surface of the Earth..." – The Mountain Goats; 'Mole'
It has been a few weeks since last I wrote about my China trip. I have been very busy since that time, what with navigating the Middle Kingdom's interesting train schedules from Hong Kong (HK) to Shanghai, the intensely rapid study of Mandarin at Shanghai University, and the general party and outings any traveler is wont to do.
Because of the time elapsed, I will only breeze over the last couple weeks, otherwise (as I usually do) I will mire myself in wanton and sticky details, stuffs that are totally uninteresting, I will assure you.
Firstly, I arrived at Shanghai U. late; I missed the earlier train from HK to PVG (Shanghai's airport abbreviation that I am using here incorrectly). The international campus, as there is a much larger campus elsewhere and only accessible by train and then bus, is very nicely laid out with a number of trees and amicable looking, red-brick buildings. There is a large yard in the center of a giant circular drive – very modern looking, I guess.
At any rate, every morning, I wake up from my quant little single dorm room at 7am. I usually do morning stuffs and then am off and out the South Gate (very close) and across the street to a little bakery. The Chinese (at least Shanghai-ese) are all about some pastries. Once I have procured a red-bean bread thing and a "latte" of sorts, I brave the crazy Shanghai street and am up and back towards the classroom building by 8am...or 8:05am.
Class exists between the hours of 8am and 12pm and is divided into 4 sections. My classmates are very nice and have become fairly friendly to me. I am closer to this half of our overall group. That is, there are 6 of us (counting myself) who make up the beginner's Chinese class. The other half of Americans are amicable enough, but I am not as close to them for obvious reasons.
Our group has gone on a number of outings, in various combinations of people, this person and that, and usually numbering pairs or quadruplets, out and about Shanghai. This past weekend, we (and our teacher Luo LaoShi "Dr. Luo") traveled by bus to HuangShan "Yellow Mountain". The trip was pretty sweet. Though, I won't lie to you, I had a hang over that felt more like a Yellow Mountain had nimbly fallen into my forehead (whatever that means.)
I have a feeling this People's BLOG does not yet convey the random happenings and drama that certainly has occurred, and I am sure, will continue to occur. My meaning? My engagement with any new group of people usually begins by my testing of the waters. I accomplish this ardent task by asking two questions: how far can I push these people…So I want to find out the limits I may have to keep in mind when dealing with each one. Secondly, who will I immediately not get along with...ever?
As it happened, the first week, I felt as if two people might not hate me irrevocably; my friend Ernest (the black Chinese man) and Dr. Luo. Of course, all that has now changed. There are a few people who would get on my nerves if I were to linger about them too often, but for the most part, I enjoy being around any, and any number, of the group. They have also seemed to warm up to my awkward manner.
I am a bit uncertain about the next few weeks. Actually, I should clarify. Until this program is over with, June 11th, my mind is fairly calm. Afterwards, however, I do not know what I am going to do. I need to be in Ji'an for my art documentary internship by July 1st or so. Until that time, I do not know if I will be hanging out in PVG or traveling about China. I have enough money, but I do not want to push my limits with 3 months left of my pseudo-sabbatical.
There is a chance I will visit Beijing with a couple of this American group. There is also a chance I will visit Xi'an with Hooper, an old friend, or possibly a girl from the program named Ashley. Who knows? I am unsure whether I will be staying at Shanghai U. dorms or a hostel somewhere in the city. I am sure I will figure it all out when the time comes. Though, I certainly realize the proverbial shit could hit the fan without warning.
I hope I can eventually be unafraid of change and the unknown. Before my Vietnam trip, I remember telling Mom, who had selflessly driven me to the airport at the wee hour of 4am, that I was scared shitless. At the time, she put on her game face to give me confidence. She asked me if I really wanted to go and received my incredulous answer, "Well, yeah!"
The same occurred just-prior to this trip. In fact, we had the same conversation, exactly. Of course, we both laughed maniacally at the coincidence (I get it from my Mom, the weirdness that is.) I could not find sleep the night before my trip. I could tell that I was both unnerved and my soul was not centered. It was that shadow that scared me – he is the knowledge of no returns and of the possibility of great loss. My Mom did not respond in kind this go around. She simply said (after the evil laugh we both shared), "You said that last time, you'll be fine, honey." I knew she was right. I also knew that my childlike soul simply wanted my mother's reassurance. For all the harsh and arrogant words I deal out like a wood chipper, I am spineless and jelly at my worst. Then again, I am sitting in Shanghai as I type this People's blog, 10,000+ miles from the safe haunts of home. When you are on the rope, fear is not your friend – might as well put him out of your mind and push forward without.
As always, I am off to study and find food. I believe the group is going to venture off to the EXPO this Wednesday evening. I am excited. I do not like tourists or tourism, but there are a number of items I must take care of before leaving China. My meaning? I must swallow my pride and be a tourist for a little while. :}
Thursday, October 28, 2010
The People's blog. 05.15.10
"Hilary went to her death because she couldn't think of anything to say"- Belle&Sebastian
As I sit here typing, I am multi-tasking. Anyone who knows me, even a little bit, knows I am not a multi-tasker. It certainly takes some split-mindedness to deal with me personally, but I have never been one to saddle more than one thought at a time, at least not without unduly anger. I have only shotgun thoughts these days – it is hard for me to trust any line of logic I draw.
Thus, I find myself again in middle of Asia. Geographically, I am not in Asia's center, albeit a bit more Northern than Vietnam this go around. There sits in Hong Kong, in the mainland-side district of Kowloon, a tiny flat no more than 20 square feet. My accommodations are not the most grand, but I do not need a lot of space or many amenities either. There is an AC and a bed and tenuous WI-FI. Other than the shoddy internets, I do not mind the place a bit.
Walking through Hong Kong is like walking through a movie (pardon me for the bland example but it is true). HK's gigantic buildings glow, sending out laser beams, a constant aerial lightshow, and when you round street corners or ascend the many escalators, those awkwardly shaped buildings and structures seem to move about you in a dizzying pattern. Even though I have a beginner's understanding of Mandarin, no one comes right out to speak it. They instead chatter in Cantonese or Hindi, or a myriad of other foreign tongues. I was surprised by the number of Indian immigrants in the city. They tool about the street corners and work the many cash exchange kiosks. I spoke with an Algerian man named Carlos tonight. Other than Arabic, he speaks a bit of French, Mandarin, the local dialect, and more English. It was nice to make an acquaintance again. I am so terribly used to talking with anybody and everybody.
My stay in HK thus far has caused a bit of wilt in me. My debit card refuses to lend me the money I so determined to provide for my elongated stay in China. Instead, I find myself running ragged and parched through left-handed blockades, cars, people, foreigners, and general aimless wandering. Those at home, a few with whom I have thankfully been able to make contact, have provided me with nothing less than complete trust in my abilities to survive here. Truly, I have not felt myself since before I undertook this journey. I could not sleep the preceding night but I could hear my heart rapidly beating, I could feel anxiety and anger encroaching my every thought.
Still, I have accomplished a number of tasks, those which I was afraid I would fail. I procured a pleasant hostel, a couple of great food places, determined how to exchange money, and bought a train ticket to Shanghai. Moreso, I was able to traverse HK (Kowloon) fairly well on foot and by MTK (the metro). The worst of it, however, is that my debit card will not work properly. Scarcely does a vendor accept credit card and so I am relegated to exchange only the money I brought with me to survive. I had to use every bit of my carrying money (that little which my paranoia will allow me to have at hand) in purchasing a train ticket. In reality, the clerk was forced to haggle in my favor because I literally did not have enough money for the quoted price. I was left at a seemingly far and away train station to make my home.
Of course, even in the most dire straits, I find my mind wandering about like a kid in a toy shop. My mind was more like a pre-teen, adolescent, t'ween (whatever they call them) for, though my throat was dry and my belly growling, though I was lost in this monster of a city, relatively penniless, who am I but gawking at the local fair. At least most of them speak broken English in HK, such was not the case in Nam. Ask Card about my terrific exploits, or lack thereof.
At any rate, this beginning has not been the most optimistic. I will be in China for another 3 months and I will survive and like it. The pre-departure meetings foretold of a certain down-swing in my emotional state and attitude. I hope I am experiencing what is normal in that regard and not something more terrible and inherent within myself. I never wanted anyone's help growing up and I loathe "stealing" another's ideas. I am so stubborn. There are times, I would rather fail miserably than take advice which I did not think of first. "Failing" here means something I am not entirely welcome to admit.
"Hilary went to her death because she couldn't think of anything to say"- Belle&Sebastian
As I sit here typing, I am multi-tasking. Anyone who knows me, even a little bit, knows I am not a multi-tasker. It certainly takes some split-mindedness to deal with me personally, but I have never been one to saddle more than one thought at a time, at least not without unduly anger. I have only shotgun thoughts these days – it is hard for me to trust any line of logic I draw.
Thus, I find myself again in middle of Asia. Geographically, I am not in Asia's center, albeit a bit more Northern than Vietnam this go around. There sits in Hong Kong, in the mainland-side district of Kowloon, a tiny flat no more than 20 square feet. My accommodations are not the most grand, but I do not need a lot of space or many amenities either. There is an AC and a bed and tenuous WI-FI. Other than the shoddy internets, I do not mind the place a bit.
Walking through Hong Kong is like walking through a movie (pardon me for the bland example but it is true). HK's gigantic buildings glow, sending out laser beams, a constant aerial lightshow, and when you round street corners or ascend the many escalators, those awkwardly shaped buildings and structures seem to move about you in a dizzying pattern. Even though I have a beginner's understanding of Mandarin, no one comes right out to speak it. They instead chatter in Cantonese or Hindi, or a myriad of other foreign tongues. I was surprised by the number of Indian immigrants in the city. They tool about the street corners and work the many cash exchange kiosks. I spoke with an Algerian man named Carlos tonight. Other than Arabic, he speaks a bit of French, Mandarin, the local dialect, and more English. It was nice to make an acquaintance again. I am so terribly used to talking with anybody and everybody.
My stay in HK thus far has caused a bit of wilt in me. My debit card refuses to lend me the money I so determined to provide for my elongated stay in China. Instead, I find myself running ragged and parched through left-handed blockades, cars, people, foreigners, and general aimless wandering. Those at home, a few with whom I have thankfully been able to make contact, have provided me with nothing less than complete trust in my abilities to survive here. Truly, I have not felt myself since before I undertook this journey. I could not sleep the preceding night but I could hear my heart rapidly beating, I could feel anxiety and anger encroaching my every thought.
Still, I have accomplished a number of tasks, those which I was afraid I would fail. I procured a pleasant hostel, a couple of great food places, determined how to exchange money, and bought a train ticket to Shanghai. Moreso, I was able to traverse HK (Kowloon) fairly well on foot and by MTK (the metro). The worst of it, however, is that my debit card will not work properly. Scarcely does a vendor accept credit card and so I am relegated to exchange only the money I brought with me to survive. I had to use every bit of my carrying money (that little which my paranoia will allow me to have at hand) in purchasing a train ticket. In reality, the clerk was forced to haggle in my favor because I literally did not have enough money for the quoted price. I was left at a seemingly far and away train station to make my home.
Of course, even in the most dire straits, I find my mind wandering about like a kid in a toy shop. My mind was more like a pre-teen, adolescent, t'ween (whatever they call them) for, though my throat was dry and my belly growling, though I was lost in this monster of a city, relatively penniless, who am I but gawking at the local fair. At least most of them speak broken English in HK, such was not the case in Nam. Ask Card about my terrific exploits, or lack thereof.
At any rate, this beginning has not been the most optimistic. I will be in China for another 3 months and I will survive and like it. The pre-departure meetings foretold of a certain down-swing in my emotional state and attitude. I hope I am experiencing what is normal in that regard and not something more terrible and inherent within myself. I never wanted anyone's help growing up and I loathe "stealing" another's ideas. I am so stubborn. There are times, I would rather fail miserably than take advice which I did not think of first. "Failing" here means something I am not entirely welcome to admit.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Well, well, well…
"Don't be so evil, don't be so mean…" R.L. Burnside
My political science professor always told me that starting a thesis off with a good quote, from a famous person, is a great way to validate whatever topic. I think Mr. Burnside's half-sarcastic plea sums up traveling abroad fairly well. Don't jump to any conclusions, sir or madame, if you fail to see the humor.
Now that I have your attention, and have subsequently lost it, I will relate my point: I have finally gotten around (in more ways that one) to cataloguing a very interesting, and continual, venture to China. There will be good and bad, skepticism, and more than likely, a grand portion of my own brand of dry, listless humor. If you don't like it, stick it. If you're interested, read on. :}
Bills Bill Billy Bill
My political science professor always told me that starting a thesis off with a good quote, from a famous person, is a great way to validate whatever topic. I think Mr. Burnside's half-sarcastic plea sums up traveling abroad fairly well. Don't jump to any conclusions, sir or madame, if you fail to see the humor.
Now that I have your attention, and have subsequently lost it, I will relate my point: I have finally gotten around (in more ways that one) to cataloguing a very interesting, and continual, venture to China. There will be good and bad, skepticism, and more than likely, a grand portion of my own brand of dry, listless humor. If you don't like it, stick it. If you're interested, read on. :}
Bills Bill Billy Bill
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