China Journal 6/05/06

Awake at 6am wondering if my back would ache as a result of our trip yesterday. Did my exercises without a glitch-thankfully. We rested and moved slowly as Xiao Jing would allow having promised ourselves that we'd "take it easy this morning". I know Xiao Jing doesn't want to lose a minute with her sister though. Each one is so precious when you are separated by such distance.
I always feel conflicted when we leave this apartment. It has been the only space where I can feel productive and "allowed" to think for myself. I find pleasure in washing my own clothes in the bathroom sink (the kitchen sink still doesn't turn on. I must ask Xiao Jing today if we have permission to open the pipes under the sink. Will it affect our rent here if we use it? It has been Years since I've been subordinate but consider it as a complete luxury most of the time EXCEPT when my lack of Chinese money brings me up short. I can't get used to discussing whether we need to buy anything. That's been up to me for a very long time...
We walk to Xiao Yee's keeping watch for a Kodak Express as I'm out of film-none to be seen. Michael's plan is to return to the apartment to burrow down to his work and I will stay with Xiao Jing so I bring my journal. Sunday's adventure will be a long entry.
Breakfast awaits us. Xiao Yee amazes me. She is close to the earth and prepares food in a spiritual way buying fresh produce from the market nearby, washing and preparing it herself. This fits seamlessly with her Chinese concept of being one with the universe. I know she is forsaking her Chi Gong while we are visiting though and Michael says "It
is a choice". The three of us know that she lashes out with rage at times. Shar Shen seems a perfect balance for their relationship.
She offered warm milk, steamed buns from the market, whole wheat pancakes sliced into fourths which we tear apart and dip into honey. I'll never eat syrup again! She also has soft tofu in warm soy milk to which we add a splash of sesame oil and some chili paste. I have a full bowl of this. I have a fleeting memory of my cold yogurt with fruit that I enjoy so much at home. I must ask her if that would fit into her view of a good breakfast dish.
Michael leaves soon after breakfast with instruction to return at 6:30. I roll up the pillow on the futon and lean back against it to allow me to sit straight as I write Sunday's notes in my journal. Soon Xiao Yee places a china tea tray in front of me. She pours by tipping the cover of what I'd always thought was the sugar bowl into what I'd always thought was the creamer. From the "creamer" she poured the tea into my tiny cup and a second one. I am reminded of my brother John's wife Suki and I feel sorry for having disdained an ornate china tea service she gave me many years ago. I didn't know the cultural value of the gift. She only spoke Korean and John didn't explain for her how I could use it. My sister also received such a set. We all left them wrapped and never used. How many other insights in Suki did we miss? How could she have helped us understand her more?
When I bring the tea to my lips I am to note its fragrance and sip it like sipping wine slurping it to enjoy the flavor and fragrance (olfactory senses important here).
The day is a quiet one. I do work on my journal while Xiao Jing and Xiao Yee do laundry. Xiao Jing and I go with Xiao Yee in the afternoon to the nearby market. Every kind of produce, meat, fish, herbs, flowers is sold. No blaring PA system, no music. Now I see how Xio Yee is able to prepare such fresh, flavorful foods.
We went to WalMart (I hesitating as always) because Xiao Yee says the film will be fresher! I am learning to object less. The culture demands that I be an abject guest. I buy 10 rolls (2 packages) of 400 max, 36 exposures. I don't want to run out of film again. I saw the "hot plate" that is used in every apartment I've been in. I'm told they are must-haves for Chinese cooking. The clerk does a demo. It would outperform my wok and would also be good for many other functions in my tiny kitchen back home. Again I am sorry not to have brought more money.
We return to Xiao Yee's and when we tell Shar Shen about the ceramic hot plate he says, "Too bad. They were two for the price of one till yesterday!" Xiao Yee will look for a cheaper price.
Now Xiao Yee and Xiao Jing start their project of preparing soaked raw rice wrapped in bamboo leaves for breakfast. It's a tricky process, the leaves are brittle. The first fold forms a cup into which they scoop the wet rice, sprinkle it with sugar and wrap the rest of the leaf reinforcing it with a second leaf and finally tying each "package' with string.They laugh through the project remembering how their mother was so adept at it and they were so clumsy that they would "Put a band-aid on a wounded soldier". I take a few pictures of them working.
There is a knock on the door at 6:30. We were about to sit down for dinner. The table is prepared. We expect Michael but it is a friend a man who is a friend of Xiao Yee. He helped her through"the troubled times" that Xiao Jing mentions occasionally. He is editor of Kun Ming Daily Newspaper and a published poet.. We sit at the table and talk till 8pm hoping for Michael's knock at the door. Xiao Yee is calm, serene even tho dinner waited before us. At 8 Xiao Jing says, "Well, I am feeling a bit weak. Perhaps we should have dinner now?" We no sooner begin it seems, when she says, "Xiao Yee and I are now going to check on Michael" But Xiao Jing went alone. Michael arrived soon after-alone. He had come by a different route and hadn't seen her. She arrived when he was finishing, the bowl of food she had set aside for him. The three men now discussed how the wives show their disapproval of these occurrences. Much laughter.

China Journal 6/4/06

The peddler and his grandchildren.



Up early and to XiaoYee's for breakfast planned to help our bodies tolerate the ascent to the Miam Minority area which is half way up a nearby mountainside. We ate a napa-like cabbage steamed in a broth, steamed buns and warm soy milk with sugar. Shar Shen washed the dishes, XiaoJing, XiaoYee and XiaoYun bustled about packing foods to bring to the Miam and we descended stairs to the vehicle, a decommissioned ambulance. XiaoYun had brought along a driver from the hospital who usually escorts high level government officials who have business at the hospital. Xiao Yun laughs when I ask her if he is an EMT. The answer is "No, but he plans to start classes." The ambulance is carrying an oxygen tank and there is a gurney along the far side. In my heart of hearts I know they've used this in case of my heart giving out-they've been reminding me of the elevation in Yunnan for days. This province is measured by height, not width because there are such variations in altitude.
I choose to sit on the gurney. XiaoYun signals, "No, No" and directs me to the other side. I choose the rear seat so I can take pictures but "No, no" she signals (was it over a wheel?) So I move up to the next seat. XiaoJing sits behind me. XiaoYee and XiaoYun across from us on the gurney. SharShen sits on a fold up seat next to the sliding door which separates us from the driver. XiaoYun's tea and a plastic bag of fruit are on a small cupboard next to him. Michael sits in front with the driver.
We drive out of Kunming and start the climb. Before long we are on a "highway" narrow and untended the past twenty years.Pocked with potholes, the roads are lined with aluminum fronted places, very, very dusty. There is a terracotta industry here. Dry clay particles in the air invading your bite. In time the road becomes unpaved.
An ambulance siren announces its approach and makes its way through the traffic behind us. Our driver takes advantage as it passes and stays close behind. We laugh and applaud as we weave through traffic nearly scraping the side against oncoming trucks.
Further up the mountain we find we are following garbage trucks. The ambulance has turned from our route. The ascent is steep. My ears "pop". More vegetation is noted. I see an occasional horse. Terraces have long been used here for planting and preserving soil from erosion. We begin to see rice paddies. It will be harvested in Oct. I see a great waterwheel. Xiao Jing says people power gets it moving bringing water to the fields for irrigation. The wheel is similar to a Ferris wheel in an amusement park.
We begin to see carts pulled by donkeys, an occasional person with a rod across the shoulder holding a basket at each end. There is a group of vendors along the roadside. We stop to stretch our legs. Michael introduces me to a man he's been talking with-73 years old. Much is made (again) of our ages-they insist we have a picture taken. Then I ask that one be taken with the children who are watching curiously. They join the group-one little girl is hesitant. I take her hand. Michael snaps the picture. We continue on our way.
Now I see a water buffalo standing under a tree. Then small groups of homes perched on the mountainside. Occasional very tall thin trees. Eucalyptus, I'm told. The streamers have been cut for fragrant oils. There are pine, chestnut, walnut and patches of very old bamboo. Finally we pass the dump. It covers a huge area. Some people nearby, hoping to find useful stuff. We approach a village. Surely we have arrived? No, we continue on. Now we pass tobacco fields-broad tall leaves. Also an occasional wild dill plant and hollyhocks. All along these roads are Chinese working to break up huge rocks, carrying loads of gravel in woven baskets, leveling gravel that's been dumped into wood framed inch wide, deep narrow troughs edging the roadway. All the leafy plants along the route are covered with dust. I wonder how photosynthesis could be taking place. It's unusual to see a flower from these plants.
Higher and higher we ride lurching and braking. The fan at the back ceiling of the vehicle is rattling relentlessly. The sisters are laughing and remembering past events. Finally we turn left and enter another village, that of the Miam. We have been riding for two hours. I think, "Would I make such a trip weekly to get to church? I console myself with the knowledge that this is a Christian church "but not Catholic". I have a flashback of John Dunne's The Way of All The Earth. I have experienced Taoist and Buddhist temples, Muslim prayer and now back to Christian. I'm grateful to XiaoYee who has called the minister to check the time of the service. We park in front of the church. There is a tall wooden cross at the peak of the roof to distinguish it. XiaoJing tells me that the Communists do not bother with the practice of religion if it doesn't appear subversive or cult-like such as the Falungong.
Parishioners are arriving by foot, cart and bicycle. Little kids, barefoot and filthy accompany their moms or grand moms, wearing Sunday clothes. Xiao Jing says the women with the twisted dark material wrapped at the front of their heads are the married women. Some wear aprons with different colored cross-stitched patterns. Men wear worn ill-fitting jackets. Even a little boy wears a too large suit, its cuffs turned up. XiaoYee introduces us all around as people arrive in front of the church. Michael has a conversation with the man who turns out to be the minister. We try to quietly slip into our pew all in a row but the minister waves us further up front. XiaoJing, Michael and I comply. The others remain behind. The pews are made of narrow slats of wood and we sit carefully fearful of cracking them.
The minister opens with prayer and a message. Soon he introduces us. Readings from the Bible are given by a man to our left. Then a hymn is sung. I am struck with the sound. Everyone is loudly singing. Many verses. A long prayer is devoutly spoken by a man who stands before us, a learned prayer or a spontaneous prayer? The language barrier makes it impossible to know.
Now the choir come up front. The back row, 9 or 10 men, and then two rows of women accompanied by a man at the piano. The director stands in the aisle with his music propped on a pew back. The sound is round, full, inspiring. A little child runs up to sit at the piano with her dad who is undeterred. Another child runs up and tugs at mom's apron. She is intent on her music but not disturbed. XiaoJing plays peek-a-boo as the child darts behind the women.
During the hymns the minister approaches Michael and asks him to sing a hymn with me up front. We are to choose any we like. Michael whispers to me and I mutter, "Oh, no". Michael suggests "Amazing Grace" I object because it's not an easy hymn for me to sing, too high. We finally agree on the first verse and go over the words together, The choir goes to their seats and the minister introduces us. We go up front (me dreading it). Michael hums it to the accompanist who plays the intro. He sings loudly and I get so choked up with emotion I can barely sing. We blunder through it and take our seats. The audience cheers.
Now the minister asks Michael to "say a few words". Michael stands up front and begins. Later XiaoJing tells me he started by saying "I know about the Bible from my mom. " (He borrows the reader's worn, small Bible and carries it as he speaks. He asks if all can hear him gesturing to each age group. The children laugh. He says, "You may wonder why you persist in coming here each week and believing as you do. You may wonder Where is this God the Bible talks about? But you see Him each time one of you consoles the lonely , gives to one poorer than you are, listens to the troubled, helps with the work of the injured, or brings money or the work of your hands to this place each Sunday. That is where I see our God." I note the minister is writing something in a little book he takes from his pocket.
Now the minister says a prayer and then tells us that in honor of the visitors the choir will sing. They re-assemble up front and sing 3 songs from Miou culture, a fourth song that is unfamiliar to me but I do note an occasional alleluia in the verse. As I am mentioning the alleluia to XiaoJing they begin the Alleluia Chorus. I am bowled over with the quality and delivery of this piece. Later XiaoJing tells me that this group has won first place in a vocal music competition nationally. I am reminded of the joy I always felt when singing in choirs how my troubles fell away and I'm sure each of these people feel it too.
Now we are told that refreshments have been prepared for us and as we leave I take notice of the large bags of grain that were donated in lieu of money during the collection.
XiaoYee leads us across the way and up a steep ledge to a mud hovel. We pass chickens and baby chicks running across our path. The place is a low room with a low table and tiny foot- high stools for sitting. XiaoJing and I share a bench. There is a big shallow bowl with a warm round loaf of sticky bread and a shallow bowl of honey from hives tended by these people. We tear off pieces of the bread and dip bread into the honey-SUBLIME! Also fruit and sunflower seeds are offered. The woman who has made the bread is daughter of the Chinese medicine practitioner here. She made a cross-stitched bag for me. It's pattern has been used by the Miam for centuries.
We learn that the power used here is methane from manure delivered through a plastic tube into the stove. This is mandated by the government.
We wash our hands at the spigot outside and return to the churchyard. Wrapped candies are passed to the children by XiaoYun. Now the parishioners are bringing us gifts of fruit, mushrooms, honey. The pianist invites us to come to his place to pick more fruit... Time has run out though so we pile into the ambulance, waving good-by to all.
I took very few pictures here. It seemed too invasive.
Halfway down the mountain we encountered another traffic standstill and were told to detour. This road was much more comfortable. Fewer bone-jarring bumps but XiaoYee got carsick from the curves. Sitting on that gurney couldn't have been easy. We had to stop to let her throw up. Along the path I found a nasturtium blossom!
Returning to Kunming Michael and I were dropped off at the apartment with instructions that I was to nap. I was too emotional and overcome to sleep. Michael said as we entered, "Well, you have been to another world, my friend." "Yes, it's gonna take a little time to sort it all out." "Some things are never to be sorted out", he said.


1.Shar Shen distributing candy to the children.
2.Miam mothers enjoying the children.
3.The bag given to me by our lunch hostess.

China Journal 6/3/06

Left: LiuYunShan, XioJing, Michael, me, DaMing
Center: Michael, XiaoJing helping JoRei study for college entrance exams
Right: ReiRei, JoWen, me & Li

I think keeping this journal, writing yesterday's events the first thing each morning, is keeping me from anticipating the new day's events. I just had to force myself to stop thinking how I'm enjoying myself so I can think about yesterday. The peddler called as usual around 6:30. He isn't calling today (because it's Sunday?). I peeled a couple mangoes for breakfast, trying to stall our departure for Xiao Yee's. Soon tho we were on our way. She has bought steamed pancakes which we spread with bean paste and fold into bings. Xiao Jing put extra hot bean paste on hers. We had the usual warm milk with honey and then warm yogurt.
Since we've planned a week in the minority areas near Tibet we viewed a dvd (Shar Shen has hundreds of them) of dances from these areas. Shar Shen is a gentle, interesting fellow. Michael says he is a self taught man-expert in minority culture. This explains his interest in my impressions of China. He walks with a limp now since a heavy tool fell on his ankle at work. It has been treated with Chinese medicine and is tightly wrapped . He has probably been told to rest it but he's walking anticipating our every need and also caring for his mother who is ill and lives a bus-ride away. He is in mourning for his father who died last year. In recognition of this he is growing a beard. It frames his lower face giving him a look of wisdom. Today he is limping heavily. Probably from climbing 8 flights of stairs to check our electronic water heater device in the bath room.
Later Da ming (meaning Great Enlightenment), Xiao Jing's brother brings his wife, Liu Yun Shen, their daughter, Re Re and Wein, the younger daughter. To indicate endearment the names are doubled. Thus ReRe and WenWen. They bring me a gift of a Piao tea pot and some very fine red tea compressed into 1" wheels and another container of tea. I am delighted. Da Ming immediately takes the pot from his wife and demonstrates its use. He is without question the leader of the family. Wei sits for her exams this week. Her scores will decide whether she is university material. She is now given the Chinese/English translator job of fielding questions and answers as they occur. They left soon after but we will have dinner with them Monday evening.
We left for a restaurant where we met a friend and kindergarten classmate of Xiao Jing's. He had told her years ago that she must become a writer. She has just published her third book.
Xiao Yee, Xiao Yun, and Da Ming were with us. After 2 hours we walked through a lovely park where Xiao Jing played as a child. Her family home (now gone)was nearby.
Home from there. To the Miou (a minority group) area for church service Sunday.

China Journal 6/2/06

Woke before the others. Wrote in my journal and after a light breakfast we left the apartment to spend the day at Xiao Yee's apartment. We were greeted at the door by a tiny girl who is Xiao Yun and Da Ping's daughter. I became confused and thought she was Xiao Yee's daughter. Took awhile to wade through all the Chinese but by mid morning I realized my mistake. It was consoling to think that everybody else was confused by my English too! The girl probably doesn't weigh 90 lbs.. She looks much like her father and has a shy way of bringing her hand to her mouth when she laughs. She and Nathan were playmates as kids. She is a college student now studying "instruction"- working hard on her English.
It was a long, long day. I was tired trying to stay awake though all the Chinese conversation. I did enjoy watching Xiao Yee prepare our meals rice, fresh vegetables from the nearby market, a bit of pork. She made me soy milk warmed with sugar for breakfast. She and Xiao Jing did my laundry. Michael tells me that the last time he was here it was all done by hand. Now Xiao Yee has an electric wash machine. Much smaller than any I've seen. We put all my laundry in there and I thought a dryer must be near by . Later I mentioned the laundry and realized the girls had forgotten about it. They rushed it downstairs in their arms and hung it outside to dry. It was 8 pm when they brought it back to me almost dry. During dinner I glanced at my watch. 9 pm!
Shar Chen had put up the ironing board for me. Xiao Jing had offered to iron the slacks but I insisted on doing it. Finally I had something to do! After hours of sitting and fielding questions about my reactions to what I'd seen and experienced coming to China.
Renee, Xiao Ping's daughter, had taken quite an interest in me and sat nearby as I ironed all my slacks. She told me that she does her own ironing. She asked questions about my childhood and I having been raised one of 4 siblings realized how hard it must be to be an only child. X had told me that parents in "higher levels of government
are allowed to have more than one child.
During the day Xiao Jing's brother rushes in from a lunch meeting to explain to us his plans for our week long trip to the minority countries He opens a map on the coffee table (all in
Chinese of course) showing our route. Michael says this will be an excursion impossible for other tourists. "Back door" agreements among those in high government positions are what make such trips possible. Xiao Jing's brother is in a branch of security that even she doesn't fully understand. He explains that there will be road tolls and "certain fees" that we will have to pay. Michael later says this will put a crunch on our finances. I wish I'd brought more money. Michael again curses himself that he's an unpaid husband and a lackey for the University of the Pacific. The upshot is that Xiao Jing and Michael feel compelled to accept the invitation to take the trip and we will wait for Nathan's return next week to leave.
It is 10 pm when Xiao Yun, Xiao Jing and I are discussing HIV at the dinner table. She says that her hospital is working with a hospital in Boston to collaborate on installing a full service HIV/pediatric department. I'm impressed. It occurs to me that in spite of the Cultural Revolution this family was able to survive and build on their ancestors' plan for them and for China.
10:30. We leave. Renee and her mom leave for home. We three and Xiao Yee start the walk back to our apartment. Michael carries his back pack full of the laundry (his dirty, mine clean). I carry my newly ironed slacks . Xiao Jing insists that I stop to rest at each of the eight flights of stairs. They again remind me of the elevation here. We have been together for 12 hours now. Although Michael has reminded me to "get used to" the Chinese concept of hospitality I am desperate for my room and "a little space". I am also aware that Xiao Yee must also be anxious for some time to herself. We sit together on the couch and I ask about her Qi Gong practice. "17 years", she says. I mention how interesting that one sister practices Chinese medicine and the other practices Western medicine. She smiles at me. She also admits she's not been sleeping well. She is menopausal.
To bed finally around midnight.

1. Writing in my journal first thing. Xiao Jing took this pic.
2,3. Xiao Yee reciting the calligrapher's scroll.
4. Xiao Yee & Xiao Jing reading the calligrapher's scroll of Mao Tse Tung's poem.
5. Renee and me doing the ironing.
6. Doing the laundry, a family affair.6. Xiao Jing and Nathan hanging the laundry. Pretty environmentally conscientious. Definitely country wide. Just look up. There's laundry hanging in many surprising places!

7. The ladder is very narrow. It leads to the roof of a building. Your feet must be placed sideways. It's not for the timid!
8. Xiao Yee gracefully descending.

China Journal 6/1/06

Awake at 6am. Did my core exercises. Took my vitamins and bee pollen after showering. Packed and met Michael and Xiao Jing for breakfast on the street. To the bazaar. Looking for soft soy milk. Michael asked a vendor whose response was, "Do you see any"? Michael says, "Again rebuffed as a tourist!" We turned a corner and happened upon a vendor making soft tofu in broth topped with crushed chili pepper, minced cucumber, vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil and soy beans served in a bowl and eaten with a small metal spoon. So good!
We had a conversation with an old lady in Mao dress and her 83 year old husband. She was a graduate of Beijing University (78 years old). Michael said, "Having that kind of breakfast with such a couple was the "dream" breakfast. (No, I didn't take a picture.)
We bought a steam bun and a thick crepe-like roll to save for lunch, returned to our room for tea and dry fruit. We enjoyed dates which had been soaked in wine and honey. The biggest, most delicious dates we'd ever had. Xiao Jing shared her green tea leaves that she'd bought at the tea shop.
We then packed, checked out, and left to carry (drag) our bags to the shuttle. Xiao Jing very kind and thoughtful to me throughout.
The flight went well. Changed planes once with three hours to wait between. They were unable to accommodate transferring our luggage so we had that task. Plenty of time though. Two things are improvements in the American way. The snacks are 6 inch packages of mild cookies on the three hour flight and the luggage carts are free.
We were greeted at Yunan Airport in Kunming by Xiao Jing's sister Xiao Yun and her husband Da Ping. Much excitement. Her sister is so happy and smiling.
We traveled in two cars to Xiao Jing's younger sister Xiao Yee's apartment, drove through the "gate" and parked in what we feared would be another jammed parking lot. Our bags were brought up the flights of stairs to the fourth floor and goodbyes were made. Xiao Yee's lover has created a Japanese style hide-away implementing Xiao Yee's design. It is very lovely. There are a mix of plants in surprising places, cases of books. Three bedrooms have been redesigned as room for other uses.
We enjoyed sliced guava and crackers, and hot water. It was late when we took clean clothes from our luggage and brought our necessities to the apartment that's been rented for our use for this month. (3000 yuan). It is on the eighth floor of a building about six blocks walk away through piles of refuse strewn along street light areas. It will be collected each morning, it seems the rats are also on a tight schedule here!
The elevation is at about 5,000feet here so I ran out of steam 2/3 of the way up the darkened staircase. The others were carrying their things but slowed considerably as they climbed higher. Xiao Jing notes the smell as we explore the lovely apartment. It is one of cabbage and dampness. It's humid in the area. I believe we'll get used to it. We are told that Xiao Yun (the director of the hospital here) scrubbed this apartment on her hands and knees! Fresh flowers in lovely large vases have been placed for Xiao Jing's enjoyment. I have my own room! There's lots of light through large wide windows.
The plane tickets to Kunming.

China Journal 5/31/06

I thought we were leaving today but not till tomorrow. Good! I like this place. Breakfast around 9:30. I'd already had a few dried plums and had started my tea. The honey is from date blossoms, light and sweet. We downed a spoonful of bee pollen before we left for the Xi`an Da Ci`en Temple. In this temple all the Buddhist scrolls from India were transcribed into Chinese. There are fifty Buddhist monks living here.
There is a novel called Journey West about a Chinese Buddhist who went to India centuries ago and returned to spread Buddhism in China.
In one of the prayer areas of the temple there is a wall illustrating the history of Buddhism. It shows a sleeping empress. She wakes to realize she is pregnant. She believes she will bear a white elephant which is revered in China. After ten months she goes to her parents' home to give birth. On the way she delivers a boy who takes 7 steps with his right hand pointing to heaven and other hand pointing to earth. Each step becomes a lotus blossom. The child is illuminated with an unusual light.
We did not climb the tower here. We rested in a lovely park. Michael had a long discussion with a Buddhist monk while Xiao Jing and I enjoyed sitting in the shade.
Back to our rooms for a nap.
Dinner at eight and a wander through the bazaar. At 9 we stumbled upon the Islam Center and observed evening prayer here by watching through a courtyard. A first for Xiao Jing. I took a couple pictures.
It was too late to catch the telescope guy in the park so we headed to our rooms for hot water and honey. Then to bed.
1. Admission ticket to the temple
2. A marker at the temple walkway.

China Journal 5/30/06

To the Shaanxi History Museum today. Got some great pics of children along the way. Saw 5 Kodak Express shops between the museums and our hotel. Fuji is here too but Kodak is considered the most reliable and sophisticated.
I took a pic of Xiao Jing standing next to the panel introducing the Zhou Dynasty 21st century B.C. to 770B.C. A time of humanities in China. Xiao Jing's ancestry originated then. She was able to read many of the Chinese characters from artifacts from that time. She and Michael just thrive on this stuff. It's exhilarating to watch them. I took some pics of artifacts. There were three areas to survey. We covered them all.
We walked from there to a food stand, wolfed down four dishes of vegetables and meat and fish and rice, great eggplant.
There was a honey store a way further, went in and talked with a clerk about the history of honey in China. Bought some honey (they had all kinds but packaged in heavy plastic bags so we bought a small jar and also a jar of bee pollen. The clerk provided a small wooden spoon for measuring the pellets. Instructions say to be cautious in its use if you have allergies to bees. Took a picture here.
Then on to the Xian Washou Eight Mortals Palace- a Taoist temple. Our timing was perfect. We happened on a service given twice daily to pray for the visitors. A huge laughing Buddha in center of the back wall and 4 Buddhas on either side.. In front of the Buddhas on either side stood 5 singers , men and women, wearing square black head pieces and deep rose colored robes trimmed in black. Their hair was pulled back. They sang in a rapid chant clanging cymbals, drums, and occasional bells. They were accompanied by musicians playing ancient instruments. It was very captivating to watch. It would have been disrespectful to take any pictures. We talked to one of the group members who was sitting apart from the others. He asked if I had any questions. Xiao Jing translated for me. I asked what his position was wondering if he was a priest since he dressed differently. He only admitted to being the leader of the group. The music director. He was interested to find that there are practitioners of Eastern disciplines in the USA. Xiao Jing asked why there were no fat members in the group. He said Taoists believe in good health. All are practitioners of Tai Chi . The best of the group is a woman!
We then wandered into a garden where we drank our water and I took some pics. We were now ready to admit to exhaustion and heat effects. I suggested we have a little bee pollen. Michael wondered "How"? Xiao Jing said, "The clerk put a spoon in the bag". Michael took a good spoon full (he's always been one to dive right in!) and Xiao Jing and I took a bit. It was pleasant to chew the pellets. Michael said, "This was the very best experience - at this temple- so far. It was less crowded, less commercial and the chanting made it more real to me."
We headed for the bus. We noted that as time went on we felt more awake!
We picked up our laundry on our return. Then we rested two hours. I showered and tried to nap on the bed with my eye pillow across my eyes and my Ipod music (Billy Holiday, Bob Marley, Crosby and Nash, B Springsteen) as a lullaby.
Out again at 8:30 for dinner. I pleaded with X to not order four dishes' but four arrived and rice. She insists we need protein and lots of vegetables (fish served whole in a mildly sweet sauce. The fish is segmented to the skeleton so it's more easily removed with chopsticks and so tender), more eggplant, again in a sweet sauce and oily, a wonderful green leafy vegetable, the uncooked leaf is similar in taste to mustard greens but it's much lighter in color. It was stir fried and served with garlic crushed and sprinkled over it, the fourth dish was portobello mushrooms and small orange mushrooms in a light sauce.
For all our complaints and my noting that others were ordering only one item we ate heartily and shamelessly. This was an outside restaurant crammed with people having a good time and enjoying each other, babies, young couples, tourists, etc. No yelling, no cell phones, good service and low prices.
Wandered a bit for exercise. Enjoyed the lovely evening. Watched the bats flying high above the bell tower, couples and families enjoying the weather, beggars with their pleading eyes. I am told again not to "engage them" in spite of their babies. Noted the long, strings of paper kites flying above being sold by peddlers. There are two men, one in different areas of this park. Each is selling views through their telescopes. Michael speaks with the second one who is closing up for the night. I had mentioned to Michael that it's probably too light in this commercial district to see the stars and I remembered how bright the stars were that night on the train as we rode through the countryside. The man said this was not an issue with the telescope. Michael said as we walked on that he was sorry he hadn't asked the man if he had made the telescope himself. We noted that it didn't look factory made. It was pulled on a cart and the scope was of white material, heavy, large, the end of it big as a truck tire.
To bed at ten thirty. We are tired.

One more Kodak shop.

Me at the Shaanxi History Museum entrance.

Xiao Jing beside the Zhou Dynasty panel.


Michael and Xiao Jing in discussion.

Porcelain statue Tang Dynasty
Porcelain statues Tang dynasty. (Sorry about the flash.)
Ancient bells. Many such bells were displayed.

The clerk at the honey store. Her mother had happened by with the clerk's son. They enjoyed having this picture taken.

At the Eight Mortals Palace Taoist temple.
This old man had just taken a sip from the spout of the tea pot when I took this picture.
On the way back to our hotel we picked up our now clean laundry and the proprietresses agreed to this picture.

China Journal 5/29/06

1. Michael & Xiao Jing at the Terracotta Museum. 2. Me at the dig site. 3. Note the convenient opening in this little guy's trousers.
4. A vendor's area for steaming buns.

Breakfast in our room and then to the bus stop for the Terracotta Museum. When we got to the street we were assailed by tour buses and again decisions had to be made-which to take? Our city bus or a tour bus? Happily Michael and Xiao Jing decided we'd make our own way so we could leave when we wished. Onto the city bus. Ipod music, odors of sweat and garlic. I know that within a couple years the people will begin to use perfumes and body sprays. Already the billboards are advertising them with white (always white) women with bare breasts and pouty lips). I'm glad I'm here before that starts! I'm not bothered by sweat.
Michael and Xiao Jing have been at the Terracotta museum before when the it was just a huge pit and tour buses were not so plentiful. Michael remembers a higher ranking government official having his picture taken standing next to one of the warriors.
Xiao Jing tells me that "This place is only .000,000,0001% of the whole burial site".
It was awesome. I took some pics. I will Google this site to recall it.
It was hot at the museum digs. We stopped for ice cream and coffee for me then we headed home, a long bus trip.
Rested a couple hours, showered and we had dinner "on the street". The population in Xian is Muslim so lots of vegetables, pepper and ginger for seasoning, rice, eggplant, squid, pork, all in different sauces. And I love the chop sticks, much shorter and all wrapped and sealed in plastic. Again we were glad we had our own tissues and wipes.
Found another ancient neighborhood to wander awhile. Bought some cookies-almond, peanut, bean paste, date- for breakfast.
Stumbled upon a shadow puppet theater. Ornately cut leather puppets with sticks. Actors and musicians performed using them behind a screen illuminated with a light bulb-a folk story of a youth who tricks his intended bride into revealing how smart and secretive she is before he was to marry her. This was an exciting happenstance for us, an unusual cultural tradition. Took some pics of the performers.

China Journal 5/28/06

Nice clean train compartment. We shared it with a German girl. I slept little. Too curious about the countryside. Listened to Beethoven sonatas but remained wide awake. I'll be sorry tomorrow!
Arrived at Xian at 7:30am. Somewhat less crowded at this station. Many peddlars, some beggars. Food being sold at train side. Finally got a cab that agreed to take us to our hotel..The check-in clerk seemed exhausted. Probably working two jobs. Could hardly keep her eyes open. Maybe she worked all night?

Room at Drum and Bell Tower Hotel is spacious. No tissues here. Red tea. I walked to breakfast with Xiao Jing and Michael but

couldn't do too much..Got testy about our plan to find a laundromat. Really need clean clothes! Finally ran across a laundry that charges 50 yuan per item. Really didn't want to think about trusting everything to laundry. Seems too luxurious when we're so tuned into thinking cheap. We decided to try a few items only.
This is Muslim country. Michael and Xiao Jing left me to nap while they scope it out. They returned at 3 (4pm) and Michael was excited. He had found the perfect noodle shop. It was an outdoor stand. Ordered giouza with a garlic sauce and bowls of noodles that seemed a bit resistant to the bite. Xiao Jing concerned about the sanitation at this establishment.
This bazaar is packed with week-end tourists and citizens. Much jostling and much to see. Xiao Jing excited about all the desert foods, huge puffy chewy dates, persimmons, beans, dried fruits and terracotta soldier statues. We bought tee shirts with ancient calligraphy on the front. Too expensive Michael said later. Again he explained about how the vendors have a hate/love relationship with Americans. Will that worsen when China loses the spiritual core of its people to the Western decadent way of life? Old people at the new shiny malls stand and cluck as they watch the process beginning.
After dinner we wander through a mall that has three levels underground. So many brands offered of each article. A huge McDonalds here. Three huge rooms of people eating "decadent" foods I took pictures for Susan.
Out to the street to wander. Stumbled onto an old part of Xian- the education section, Xiao Jing notes from a statue. We look for someone to tell us about it. Michael notes a man hanging calligraphy scrolls along the side of an old building using clothes pins. He approaches the man and a conversation ensues. The man sells these scrolls. Michael is bowled over with their beauty and Xiao Jing concurs. The man recites their meaning. Michael again awe struck. The man explains his work. He is a teacher of art who has "retired" and makes his living doing this work. They offer 100 yuan (their own money) for the two hangings. The man says, "No, that isn't enough for two but I will give you the Mao one free." Michael practically kowtows to the teacher he is so pleased and moved. The panels are rolled but no box is big enough for them. He rushes about to nearby vendors but no boxes found. He gets his materials together to close up shop since it is now dark and invites us to his home to wait for him to get boxes. We follow him through a narrow ancient alley past a shop and turn right to climb a dark, narrow stairway. I had to convince myself that there was no danger of his leading us into a den of thieves. At the top we turn right again to what I thought was the end of the hallway but he moved some tall panels of drywall and leaning them to the side he motioned us to follow a bit further to a doorway on the left which he opened inviting us inside. The room was deep and narrow maybe 24'X12' wide. His bed along the far wall supported on blocks of wood; his tea, a small cooking pot and a hotplate to its right. There were two framed panels that showed his awards and his teaching certificates leaning against the wall. He has an award for calligraphy, a national honor. Why must teachers and creators of beauty be so poor!
When he returned he realized we were in darkness and reached to the far left corner to turn on the only light, a plain light bulb hanging from an electric cord which came from the ceiling there. He carefully inserted the scrolls into the boxes and secured them with raffia ties. He had brought a friend back with him whom he introduced. Business cards were exchanged. I asked if I could take his picture. I took two. I had to step back through the door to the rail of the walkway looking down to the street. He refused Michael's offer to go for food. We made our goodbyes and followed Xiao Jing down the treacherous stairs through the alley and to the street.
M, X & Calligrapher

China Journal 5/27/06

1. Approaching Yonghegong Temple
2. Visitors lighting joss sticks
3. Xiao Jing with lilies.
4. The priest and me.
5. The priest, Michael & Xiao Jing.
6. Xiao Jing and I. Note the ornate roof edges
7. Yet another massive statue.
8. Michael & Xiao Jing by an ancient tree.

Checked out of the Sunny Hotel at noon. Xiao Yu took us to a Buddhist temple. Here, Xiao Jing learned of the significance of a Buddha that she's been carrying for years never knowing which Buddha it was. She showed it to a Buddhist priest and was told its meaning. The priest said some prayers and then Xiao Jing placed it around Michael's neck to keep him safe during the year of the rat (his birth year) since he will be vulnerable that year-2008. Took pictures with them and with the Buddhist priest. The priest gave me permission. Finished the third roll of film at that temple.
Dinner that eve with Xiao Yu and her husband and with Xiao Mae. Chinese food is so good! Did well with the chop sticks.
Second experience with squatting to pee ...Thank heaven for the healthy knees!
Xiao Yu's husband drove us to the train station. Much jostling with crowd but finally to our train and we're off to Xian. We share a compartment with a girl from Germany. I'm writing and listening to Beethoven over my ipod. Too much tea for dinner and coffee this afternoon. It's now 12:50 and I'm wide awake. The stars very bright in China.(So far the weather's been cool to cold and some rain. When we left Beijing the rain had cleaned everything of its dirt and the trees now have clean healthy leaves.
At dinner Xiao Jing asked for chicken for me. A whole chicken had been fried crisp and then cut into small pieces. The head had been left on!! Xiao Jing has taken a picture!

China Journal 5/26/06

Nathan on the train heading for Shangdong Province.
Temple of Heavenly Peace entrance at Yonghegong Temple. There are three more entrances.
Maoist proclamation on an old wall near a new building on its right. These proclamations were common during the Cultural Revolution but now most have been removed.

The same building near a new building on its right.

Nathan left for home today to visit his grandfather and grandmother and his father, step mother and half sibling. He fears for his grandfather's health. We went to the Temple of Heavenly Peace before he left, Michael's favorite temple.