The China Chronicles

Sitting here, headphones on, listening to a melodic CD of Mandarin violin music I purchased while in Beijing last March. The memory it conjures is one of my daily strolls down Chegongzhuang Lu, towards the subway station in Beijing, heading to some planned destination. Every day was an adventure and a mental assault of activity, too busy to focus on all at once. On my return trip, heading back to the comfort of my hotel room in building #3 (the cheap seats), room #3403 of the Xindadu (pronounced Shin-da-doo) hotel, I passed a small music store jammed between other shops, banks and department stores.

In China you have to be alert to your surroundings or you'll miss something important. Fantastic shops and bargain palaces exist in cubby holes, not easily discernible to the naked eye unless you brave the throngs of people and their penetrating stares and explore a bit. A single entryway may give way to five shops of miscellaneous variety, normally missed from the comfort of the wide sidewalks near the road outside.

When first I ventured into this music shop, I was met with both curious and unfriendly stares. It's a bit unnerving actually and something you just have to experience to really understand what it's like. Chinese people quite literally stop what they are doing, turn and stare at you. You can paralyze a whole department store simply by walking in and carrying about your business. People will turn completely around, their mouths hanging open and gawk, not just stare, but gawk at you. Eventually, after days, weeks maybe, you get used to it.

Well, let me rephrase that.

You don't get used to it, but more accurately you learn to deal with it. You see, in a city roughly the size of the state of New Hampshire (which contains about 2.8 million people), Beijing, who's population is quintuple that of New Hampshire's, when you stand out like a turd in a fishbowl, it's rather hard to remain anonymous in a city that large. So, I began to fantasize I was a movie star.....hey, it worked for me.

The music store consisted of two rooms. The first room, upon entry, was filled with stereo equipment, speakers and the like, trance music booming into the street. The second room was full of DVD's, CD's and cassette tapes. All, if not most, were pirated. How do I know that? Well, first off because I had read in my research online prior to traveling to China, that pirated CD's and DVD's were a big industry there. Also, the price. For the price I would have paid for a single DVD in the U.S., I purchased around ten of them in Beijing.

I was in heaven.

Back at my hotel room, the twelve some odd television channels were beginning to wear on me. First off, I don't speak or understand Mandarin and there was only occasionally an old Western movie (typically John Wayne) dubbed in English. So, I scarfed up DVD movies left and right. My first haul was four DVD movies. On successive trips I was walking out of that store with twelve and twenty of them. Most worked fine, typically two discs, no menu, no reverse so you had better watch all of one disc or risk having to start all over again. Some didn't work at all, but for about .50 cents to a dollar and a half per DVD, I felt I could afford to be cheated a bit.

The DVD police never showed up at my door, I enjoyed full length movies and I began to develop a relationship of sorts with the sales girl in the shop. She, like others in markets or department stores, would follow me wherever I went, hovering close in case I needed assistance. At first, due to my American programming, I thought I was being watched in case I decided to steal something, but later discovered this was only the helpful way of the Chinese.

One day, just short of my departure back to the states, after a particularly busy day out sightseeing and getting in some last minute shopping, I stopped into the music store to sift through the DVD's in the rare chance I could find something I hadn't seen. I walked from isle to isle, the petite salesgirl in tow, and suddenly heard Jingle Bells being played over the speaker system. We both looked at one another and began to sing, both of us smiling widely, reminiscent of the final scene at the Chinese Restaurant in "Christmas Story."

We both had a good laugh after the last few bars of Jingle Bells, I paid my fee for my two DVD's and the Mandarin violin CD I'm listening to now, and said a final goodbye, mentioning that I was returning to the U.S. the next day. "Ahhh. Yes, yes. I see, I see, you too, you too," she said, smiling widely as I exited the shop....

She had no clue what I'd said.....

-Jeeem-

My daily walk has become something I truly anticipate every morning. It is a time where I can explore my philosophies while looking at the beauty around me. I kept a steady pace today, rummaging around in my brain for answers to questions I am asking for today, which may not be of importance tomorrow.

I am anything but ambiguous towards life and I struggle almost every day to find the answer - thoughts slamming into my head that demand attention. Something I read today gave me a bit of satisfaction that I thought I would share with all my readers…

“Happy isn’t everything; other emotions are important too: anxiety, self-doubt, loneliness, frustration, anger, self-pity. It’s an unequaled opportunity for self-reflection, learning to face these things head on, without distractions.”

That passage gave me direction today and answered questions. You see, I was angry and struggling with it. Struggling because I’ve been conditioned to think anger is bad and happiness is good. So, my self-doubt kicked in and I was searching for a way to let my anger go, which I believe was the wrong thing to do at the time.

Last night I heard of one man’s actions that were damaging to another human being. This man took it upon himself to give his opinion, which was damaging to another person whom I care about. In re-thinking this situation, I do not question his opinion so much as I question his motive. Again, this morning, I read an e-mail that disturbed me. Someone gave their opinion without really knowing me or the other person who was involved, which frankly pissed me off. Again, I came to a place where I did not question their opinion so much as I questioned their underlying motive.

My dad used the saying “They’re talking out their asshole” to denote someone who was blathering on about something they knew nothing about. People seem to be good at that. When I say “people” I have to include myself because I am a “people” too. But, there exists the phenomenon in life of those who make things happen, those who stand around waiting for things to happen and those who stand there saying, “What the fuck happened?”

Motive is a subtle, shady figure that lurks in the back alleyways of one’s mind and is often disguised as opinion. People on the receiving end who are less savvy than most (i.e., don’t have a clue) never really get it. It doesn’t affect them. It can’t. They are the innocents. I worked with handicapped people, more appropriately labeled “mentally challenged,” and have seen the benefits they obviously have. Others, myself included, who are fairly adept at taking a pragmatic view of people’s motives that are stealthily disguised behind their “opinion” are affected by this onslaught and it pisses us off.

If I had not become angry at these two instances of gutless motive disguised as opinion, I would not have been able to process it. My question is what was the motive? That question you can only guess. One cannot, even in today’s highly technological world, understand one’s motive without delving into somebody’s thoughts. I’ve often said, and truthfully so, “I could be locked up for what goes through my mind.”

People just are not what they seem.

You see, I believe that our world is not as we see it. It’s rather achromatic, for lack of a better word, and we color it based on our own perceptions. Life is just one big coloring book and as we grow and mature, we’re “given” some crayons of different colors. Some of us get by with the little tiny boxes of eight and others have the big box of 96 with the sharpener.

People have typically seen my exploits on this earth as rather “out of the box” to coin a phrase of a man I used to admire. I loved that phrase because it told me that there is a world out there, beyond the box I had fit myself into. So, my push has been to live outside the box and when you do that, somebody is always going to complain about it. The man I admired used that phrase a lot but truth be told, his motive eventually came out, which was to razzle and dazzle by appearing different, when in fact he wasn’t and lives in his own tight little box. When this man learned of my planned move to China, his response was, “I thought you would eventually grow out of that.”

Guess my plans were a little too out of his box.

Opinions are most definitely like assholes. Everyone has one, but the question to ask is, “Is this a real opinion or is there an ulterior motive behind it?” For me anyway, the unexamined life is not worth living. You can’t change the past or the nasty little annoying things people will tend to do, but you can at least try and make some sense out of it.

-Jeeem-

At the young and impressionable age of eight, my mother placed me in a martial arts school, purchasing a "lifetime" membership in the Bujutsukan Institute of the Martial Arts. At first it was a gas but the initial wonder wore off quickly as I began to become impatient with the meditation and the sheer drudgery of the workouts. This wasn't your average, macho, learn-to-kick-ass Karate Dojo, but a traditional Japanese Dojo which integrated the calmness of mind of the great Okinawan master, Gichin Funakoshi.

I lost interest quickly and began to silently "drop out" of classes, playing hooky and ditching my Gi in a nearby bush. Soon, my instructor, Ty Hayashi, called my mother to report my absence and the truth came out. Since her "lifetime" membership was non-refundable, we came to a negotiation of sorts, cutting my class time in half during the week. The initial reason for these classes was to learn to protect myself, both from my hoodlum classmates and my drunk father.

Long story short, I continued with the classes and slowly, but surely, began to love the art. In my early teens I threw myself into my practice and was in the best health of my life. Edgar Miles, my compadre in crime and I would run, jog, walk to the top of a radio tower bearing ankle weights, wrist weights and backbacks full of rocks....in addition to our rigorous workout beforehand.

Eventually I quit the Bujutsukan Institute and moved on. By my early twenties, before drugs and alcohol had staked their claim, I was into tournament fighting and kata exhibition, bringing home trophies, ribbons, welts, bruises and torn hamstrings. I went into semi-retirement from the tournament circuit and settled on teaching kids in the martial arts for a relatively famous name in the martial arts field, Gene Wagner. I was in tip-top shape back then and as flexible as a wet noodle.

Pan to the present....out of shape, chubby, stiff but with a head full of the training I once received, I put on my Gi last week and began my well-remembered workout of loosening up exercises and stretching. It's incredible how much my body has tightened up. My neck sounds as if there's gravel in there somewhere. My joints ache. My legs are not as limber anymore, but I pressed on....stretching ever-so-carefully, fully aware of my potential to push things too far and pull something out of whack, a sure-fire reason to stop the whole process.

This new thing, most likely fueled by my renewed interest in the philosophies of the Chinese culture, is making my life turn around. I feel better, feel refreshed and my vitality is coming back ten-fold. It's like a miracle and every day I get out of bed wondering if it was only temporary and has somehow disappeared.

Today I'm increasing my daily walk to three miles. Not much by today's standards but I'm careful not to push this too much or risk sabotaging this wonderful process. I read today how the Chinese are in tune with their bodies and their "space," and found myself desiring that feeling again. I haven't quite torn myself away from cholesterol, my two cigarettes a night or junk food, but at least the thought is there. Can't mess with nature too much ya know!!

-Jeeem-

This is a "RIBBON BURNER."

I have just authorized the purchase of not just ONE, but SEVENTEEN of them! (You never know when you'll need a ribbon burner...)

You see, for those of you who are confused, I got a call from Annie on the phone this morning.....

"Hi Jeeem! I am calling you from work."

"Hi Annie! From work?" (suddenly realizing that it was near midnight in Kuala Lumpur)

"Yes! I am training someone here." Suddenly it dawned on me....I had received an e-mail from Annie yesterday telling me that she would be working a sixteen hour shift because it is the end of the month. She sounded tired on the phone and reasonably so. We discussed my travel plans to China and Annie told me of a TEFL school near her home, which is more affordable than the one I am looking into. Suddenly, our conversation was cut short as her phone card ran out of time, an event we are used to by now.

So, I e-mailed her to "finish" our conversation. I received an e-mail from her a little later, telling me....

"I can barely open my eyes right now," as she was so tired. Then a couple minutes later, I got an e-mail from Annie, addressing me by another name and asking permission to purchase a ribbon burner.

Feeling powerful, I "authorized" the purchase of seventeen of them.

I love starting International Incidents....

Get some sleep Annie!!!!

-Jeeem-

It's SNOWING AGAIN!

Damn. A whole week of fun in the sun and now this. I've lived here for twenty years, so I know by now that it snows in April and May here sometimes, but seven months of winter is ENOUGH already!! I know better than to bitch about the weather, as it's senseless. But I'm bummed all the same.

Well, it finally happened to me. I've read about it on Annie's site and others.......

Somebody found my site while doing a GOOGLE search for:

Sexy Colonoscopy Nurse Duties

Oh my God.

That person needs to be locked up.

God only knows what types of weirdos are out in this world.

-Jeeem-

I had to make an apology today.

I only see Wanda once a week, if that, and this weekend when she arrived, I bombarded her with China. I couldn't shut up about it no matter how hard I tried. "You're obsessed!" she said to me. There could not have been truer words because I am obsessed but have to admit that it's enjoyable to be obsessed about China, a country that (if you love Asia) will get underneath your skin and draw you to return to experience it's smells, both foul and enticing....it's beauty, both natural and man made and it's culture, both chaotic and serene.

If I haven't already mentioned it, I'm currently reading, "Dear Alice - Letters Home from American Teachers Learning to Live in China." The book is 326 pages in length and I'm almost finished reading it, having only gotten the book last week. Several of the letters remind me of my trip to Beijing last March and my memories are enriching, always bringing a smile to my face.

Today I read a letter from a teacher about the tea houses in Guangzhou, Guangdong, near Hong Kong. Reading that letter plopped me back in the smokey tea houses I frequented in Beijing and the surrounding areas. To the Chinese, tea is as commonplace as coffee is here in the states. In my hotel room, a large thermos of hot water was delivered every day, twice a day, along with clean tea cups and bag tea called "Scent ted" tea, which had the aroma of "eau de soap." But tea houses were a totally different experience.

I'm not sure if other foreigners felt the same as me, but the first time I entered one of these tea houses I was afraid how to act. Everything struck me as so ceremonial, the hosts dressed in beautiful silks and treated me with such attention and grace. The Chinese tea ceremony is only a vague memory now, a hazy recollection of gorgeous tea sets, different varieties of tea with exotic names, and the "three sip rule" for "HAPPINESS, LONGEVITY and A BRIGHT FUTURE." By the time I had entered my third tea house in two weeks, I discovered that my definition of "formal" and theirs are two totally different entities.

The Chinese spit, hack, dribble, smack, slurp, fart, burp and smoke openly in these ancient and traditional tea houses and suddenly my fear of how to act had dissolved into disappointment. Not to worry though, as by now, through my experience, reading and contemplation of their wild, exotic and chaotic culture, I have begun to accept these nuances in comparison to my standards.

The teacher in Guangzhou, Guangdong writes of his experience involving a traveling ear picker. He is in a tea house, observing a gentleman who moves from customer to customer, delving into the upturned ears of his client's with long-handled instruments, cleaning out their ears.

To most, the shear idea of this - coming from a culture that teaches you from a young age never to place anything bigger than your elbow into your ear - would only horrify. But, to me, I'm intrigued and can't wait to see one of these guys in action. I'd probably have to try it myself, although I keep my ears pretty clean with my own custom set of tools fashioned from varying lengths of wire and paperclip.

Odd? Not to someone like me who was born on the border of Mexico and grew up experiencing the poverty of a third world country. Hell, you don't even have to leave the U.S.! Just travel to any major city such as New York, Los Angeles, Seattle or Philadelphia. You'll see people selling their wares and demonstrating their expertise in things the average citizen could not imagine. In Mexico, for a few pesos, you can get your picture drawn in cartoon caricature, participate in a electroshock competition for a free drink or purchase a trained butterfly which will sit on your shoulder all day (and be dead the next day).

So, today I am sitting here reading my book, sipping my cup of Longjing tea and reflecting on a culture I MUST return to, that beckons me and has a pull that I cannot resist. Please be tolerant of me while I sift through this obsession and reflect on what draws me to such a foreign and (as Wanda puts it) HARSH culture.

-Jeeem-

Laowai Jeeem


It's kinda difficult for me to see myself as a teacher, let alone a teacher in China, but it's gonna happen. I recently followed a link here and there and stumbled upon a website for the Boland School in Feng Xian, Xu Zhou, Jiang Su province - about 500 km from Shanghai, China. They offer an intensive four week course for the international and Chinese TEFL, which would be a real door opener as far as employment is concerned.

All I do is register with them, fly to Shanghai, take a mini bus to Feng Xian and get started. I've checked a couple of references from graduates of the school who recommend it highly. One of the references was/is like me....no teaching experience what-so-ever and she is doing fine. So, I'm gonna do it. The school places their graduates in jobs, should I chose to go that route but then I'm also working through an agency in Beijing called China Services International who places teachers.

The house sale is moving along at snail pace, the first buyer having backed out. Two showings today so I'm packing up and going up to the upper part of Smith River to walk and listen to my mp3 tunes until they are gone. I'm selling stuff left and right and my hope is to walk out of here with only a couple of boxes in the back of the truck. Selling all my stuff and throwing the rest away is a tough venture. But, like George Carlin says, "It's just stuff! Wherever you go, you drag "STUFF" with you and then when you get there, you just pick up more 'STUFF."

Can't take the crap to the grave with me, so mainly I'm just keeping my clothes, some pictures (memories), my laptop (of course), some books (what I don't sell at Amazon) and my cats. Although it's workable to take the kitties with me, it is a royal hassle and they end up in quarantine for a month. Besides, I've heard that song by Weird Al Yankovic called, "Cat in the Kettle."

I'm busy lately with all that is going on and I'm into the third week of my new exercise regimen of doing my warm-up and stretching exercises and walking 2.3 miles a day. I'm feeling full of energy lately, which is good. Life has some interesting twists to it sometimes and personally, I enjoy mine. Some people think I'm nuts but then most of them have hardly been out of New Hampshire.

More updates to follow.....stay tuned!

-Jeeem-

Zebulon Mysterioso's got a new look going on....I like it, everything is in one place. Zeb is an interesting fellow, there is not much of anything that doesn't seem to interest him. Deep philosophy, wit, cunning and the unanswered questions of Northern Ireland....a must see and an interesting read, if not only to amuse yourself and fill a void in your vacuumless mind.

He's to Belfast what William James was to America...

-Jeeem-

I pulled the plug on my "Interesting Blog of the Day" and the other heading of "Interesting Blog of the Day that didn't quite make the grade."

Why?

Because NextBlog sucks.

It's like this little baby blog search engine, programmed to search for the most bland, boring, political and foreign language blogs imaginable. I found that I was wrapping way too much time up in pouring over boring blogs, waiting for them to load and then clicking the NextBlog button again. Nice concept but I found better results following other people's links on their own blogs.

I'm a tad busy lately, packing up my house and getting ready to move. I'm gonna sell most of the stuff and so I placed an ad in the local paper for "House Contents Sale" which will go in sometime this coming week. That'll have the damn phone ringing off the hook for a while.

The bank guy is coming in to inspect this Monday and then things will be moving quickly. I'm finding my emotions running high and low lately and I'm just looking forward to walking out of here for the last time, money in my pocket, paying off my bills and freeing myself of an enormous amount of responsibility for the first time in a long time. My plans to move to China and work are progressing nicely. Should hear something about my placement next month.....

-Jeeem-

"If you're ever in Tokyo and want the best view of the city, go to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government building in Shinjuku. You can go up to the lounge at the top for free, and the views are spectacular. Also, if it's night and you can get a corner away from other people, it's a nice place to kiss for a while..."

......Information of inestimable value.

-Jeeem-