Waterfall

A Phone Call Away

If you would like to call me it's actually very easy. My phone number is on the bottom of this page. Since it's probably a local number (for you), you will only be charged the local minutes your cell phone company gives you each month. Let it ring. Really - I think it averages 20 rings to get through. Unfortunately, I cannot call you back. This is a one-way system for now.

Waterfall

This weekend I visited Huangguoshu waterfall, the largest waterfall in Asia and the 3rd largest in the world (don't ask me how they know, I have yet to get a clear answer on how it is measured). This attraction is only about an hour by bus from my city. To give you an idea about the importance of this attraction, the question, "Have you seen the waterfall," is used in approximately 90% of conversations I have. When I was at home this summer I talked to a few people in Chinese. They asked me where I lived in China, but when I said "Anshun," they looked puzzled. "Huangguoshu waterfall," I would say. That's all it took.

Funny Chinglish signs were everywhere. The sign on the bottom right inspired me to climb, considering there was no danger involved.

After leaving the waterfall we went to another place with a series of connected ponds in a heavily forested and rocky area. Birth markers were imprinted in the stones. I learned that Aron's birthday is the same as Mao Zedong's. Right on!

Rantings

If I had the foresight to save every interesting or strange piece of information I found related to China then this post would actually be pretty good. Direct your attention toward the following, which I found on a website that not only gave information about Anshun, but tried to convince you that it would be a good stop on your way to... well... I mean, if you decided that you wanted...um... So the truth is that nobody comes here. To be honest this is due to marketing problems, the way the natural sites are set up, and the unwillingness of many travelers to experience an adventure. Anyway, this is what I stumbled upon:

Anshun Climate and Terrain

Anshun has a pleasant climate with an abundant of natural resources. The average temperature is around 15 centigrade. The highest elevation is 1,850 meters and the lowest is 365 meters. Mountainous area occupies 64.5% of the total area; hilly areas accounts for 27%; and dam area takes 8.5%. Within the boundary of Anshun, it is a humid subtropical monsoon climate. So people feel warm during any season.

At first sight it is a rather nice explanation of Anshun's climate and terrain. Continuing through the paragraph I came upon the last sentence: the sentence that I read, not two or three, but four times. Huddling next to a space heater throughout the last winter wasn't my idea of feeling warm during any season.

Perhaps I'm sending an email, updating my blog and I get a message on skype that says the following:

I am Kabore Mohamed from Africa; I have gold and diamond for sale. My friend have told me that I can see good market in your country, that is why I contact you for know your opinion so if not interested, please kindly help me find buyer in your country. Also, we have cashew nut and sesame for sale.

Now I don't need to rely on the Shane company to find a friend in the diamond business. An on the off chance that I were more of a cashew guy, I'm covered.

It was noted by another volunteer (AP) that the internet censorship seems to be less rigid now. I got the same feeling when websites like, say, this one, were no longer blocked. Get this: I can post information on the Internet for everyone to see without using a proxy server. Amazing, right? I can tell you what's happening without having to go through the annoying steps of surfing through a server in Europe and you can read the post before an underpaid Chinese Internet Security employee does.

On another note, I think I could dedicate an entire post to the interesting things I read in the China Daily. I'll get to work.

Returning

The car was parked next to a large pile of rubble. A building that once stood, abandoned, is now gone. My attention was so focused on the change that it took several minutes of walking before I saw everything else: the deep ravine that swallowed an entire backhoe, the scaffolding surrounding the English Department, the workers using pushcarts to move furniture out of the Administration building and the man chipping away at the same building to expose the bricks underneath. All of these were signs of a college that is constantly changing. There were other signs too: The new ping pong tables stacked next to the old court, a basketball court renovation that includes new hoops, new courts and the fancy benches that surround them, and the ubiquitous marketing of cell phones and drinking water delivery services. The campus is a tent city where one cell phone company gives away free knick-knacks with the purchase of a new phone while their neighbor tries to think of another strategy.

This is a new campus; the best debris from broken buildings being moved to new construction sites off campus, business not conducted in legal zones because it’s worth the risk, considering the penalties. I would even like to make a case that I’m experiencing a microcosm of China. I don’t know why, but the contradictions seem to justify it. The new and the old stand together. The constant drive for development.

The day it took to get back proved to be an interesting transformation. On a plane with Chinese and Americans, bound for Beijing, I found the atmosphere to be a blend of English and Chinese. Most of the Chinese people on the flight also spoke English. The Chinese flight attendants spoke with near-native proficiency. On the plane from Beijing to Guiyang, however, I suspect the flight attendants were reading the English guidelines from a placard (I also had the awkward feeling that they were reading those guidelines just for me, as I was the only foreigner on the plane). While the plane taxied towards the terminal the people unfastened their seatbelts and began pulling their luggage from the overhead compartments despite the specific request not to do so. I knew, then, that I had arrived, but when I stood up and saw 10 passengers unabashedly staring at me I was absolutely certain.

The last couple of days have been a focus upon preparing for my semester. The freshmen have not yet arrived for their military training, but my sophomores are already attending classes and wondering about the upcoming year. Some students have decided to move off campus so that they can cook for themselves: a luxury not granted to dorm-dwellers. I saw students carrying a thermos, reminding me that a bar of soap, some hot water and a cloth are the only things one needs to delay a shower indefinitely. There were distant echoes of an ominous winter, but the sun blocked out all of those thoughts.

Going for a run I discovered Anshun once again. I found the many staring people sitting outside their shops (converted from their homes). The rice paddies still seem to crowd the city and not the other way around. Down a rural street, surrounded by fields, I am running. Up ahead, children are swimming in an irrigation lake to escape the heat. A child, perhaps as a joke, begins running along with me, burdened by his backpack. We speak a bit in Chinese and he invites me to swim. I decline and he waves goodbye, veering toward the small lake. I try to think about a new year.

Going Back to China

So maybe my last post was a little unfair. Or a lot.

I had just returned to America after 13 months in China and I was a little shocked. You know, culturally. But I have come to terms with that: I now know that when someone tells me to move out of their way it's because they are being direct and I am in their way, not because they are presenting a challenge to fight to the death. I will walk faster. I will be on time. Thank you for your help. I didn't even throw toilet paper in the garbage can once since coming home!

I have also found that my 4 favorite phrases do not work as well in America. I am referring to those four phrases that can help one evade any social situation (almost):
"I have friends waiting for me."
"I am a little busy."
"That's not convenient."
"I have something to do."

These are the magic phrases. Responding to them with questions is unacceptable in China, and these little white-lie phrases help make life smoother for me. After a long conversation with a Chinese man I had just met, he asked me for my phone number. "It's not convenient," I replied. And it was done. Over. No problem.

"It's not convenient," I said to my mother regarding the mysterious growing stack of dishes and her request that I load them in the dishwasher. "No," I think to myself while loading the dishes after losing an argument, "You're not supposed to question me after I say that!"

"I have friends waiting for me," I say to a friend in Seattle. The response? "What friends, what are their names? Where are you meeting them?" These questions are unacceptable because I don't have the answers, I'm just looking for some time to myself.

I've found that I have been unable to use this experience to my advantage. "I have not culturally adjusted to mowing the lawn," and "Clean my room? We certainly don't do that in China," are weak arguments in a land where argument and reason trump harmony.

After all of this adjustment I'm hoping that going back will be a smooth transition. Weighing the relative merits of things will probably be a balancing act, like it was coming home. Everything was expensive here, but so incredibly easy. Everyone stands in line, but that means I don't get a chance to muscle my way to the front.

I know that I'll miss all of the people I got a chance to see again. The moment I saw Seattle I knew I wanted to go back (98% sure). I feel really connected to the work I've already done and to the work I have yet to complete in the next year. That includes the people in my community, my students, and fellow volunteers. But I also feel a distant longing to come home. It's really not quite so long this time: I have less time left than time I've served.

I think I wanted this post to be a "Thank You" to everyone for everything, but it turned into a disorganized discussion about something else. Thanks to everyone for putting me up, buying me meals, and putting up with me. See you next year!

Coming home

After days of travel I stepped into the San Francisco International Airport. This was the breakdown: Hour and a half bus from Anshun to Guiyang. 19 hour train from Guiyang to Chengdu. 3 hour plane from Chengdu to Beijing. 12 hour plane from Beijing to San Francisco. The final leg being a less impressive 1 hour flight from San Francisco to Portland.

Despite going through customs in S.F. I had to go through the general metal detector and bag-check routine before boarding my connecting flight to Portland. Standing in line was like being involved in some kind of important mission. The airport security officers were running people through the metal detectors like food in a processing plant. My turn came and a woman asked me, “Do you have your boarding pass?” I casually checked my front pocket and, after, other pockets, all without finding it. “No, it’s going through there,” I said, pointing at the bag checking machine. “Hey, Roger, check him. Make sure he has a boarding pass. Did you hear me? If he doesn’t have a boarding pass he goes back to the end of the line.” She said it with such authority; it was as if I were supposed to know something about this process. I showed Roger the boarding pass and began the process of putting all of my clothes back on (belt, shoes, etc.) when Roger yelled at me. “Pick up all of your stuff and get out of everyone’s way.” I laughed in his face. I didn’t mean to. I was just suddenly and thoroughly surprised at how rushed everyone felt. I could feel the ulcers people were developing by looking at the expressions on their faces and listening to the demanding tones in their voices. Roger’s boss came over and yelled at me next. “You heard him, get your things together. Stop picking things up one-thing-at-a-time, grab everything, and move out of the way.” I was thoroughly upset. I turned to a Chinese man who was also gathering his things and said to him in Chinese, “China is better, people here are too rushed and too rude.” Luckily Roger’s boss didn’t speak Chinese. When he yelled at me a final time, telling me to get moving, I calmly explained how my final bag needed to be rescanned and that I would like to wait for it thank-you-very-much.

This is the first thing I noticed coming home. The directness of people in their individual quests for whatever it was they were doing. How would this story be different in China? The woman would have asked if I had my boarding pass, then she would have helped me to find it. Roger would have asked if I needed help moving my things to a different place (so I would not be in anyone’s way), and I would be expected to understand that he meant for me to hurry up (and expected to politely turn down his offer). Roger’s boss would not have existed.

This is only a small part of the story that is my first time in America in 13 months. Other than this I have experienced little “reverse culture shock.” I did find myself in the bathroom at one point, wondering why I felt compelled to steal all of the toilet paper and stash it for future use. These silly Americans were putting the stuff in each stall for anyone to take! The bathroom proved to be somewhat of a double-whammy when I found that I could, without fee, use a soap dispensing box that was fixed to the wall next to the sink. I almost took a shower immediately, but instead just washed my hands before coming my hair for 15 minutes (to the surprise of several people).

Walking through the airport I laughed to myself. I was grinning for most of the time, actually. The people and prices and products all captured my attention. It was the first time I felt myself caught in wonder for quite some time. People were standing in lines. And they didn’t cut one another. Amazing.

There have been other things. I am still internalizing it all. I am still adjusting to the time. I am still a little lost.

Overall, I am happy to be home. For now.