Prisoner of Shangri-la

At what point do we become so driven by our goals (no matter how noble they may be), that we forget our basic humanity; that we cease to see that humanity as anything worth cherishing. Instead of always laughing at  something, can we laugh just because there is something delightful about life? Instead of always picturing a brighter future, can we just be stand still without feeling the world is passing us by? Instead of merely focusing on the result, can we understand that how we get there means everything?

I suppose I’ve been examining my values in the face of the many seductions of Beijing life - the nightlife, the interesting people and places, the exchange rate. And while I may not be able to say this in the future, I can say it now: only the outer conditions have changed.

Rash healed up nicely a few days after it started. Still don’t know what it was though.

Headed out to the Beijing suburbs with Ricky and his (adopted) parents for a couple days. It’ll be nice to get out of the city for a bit. Will try to take some pictures.

The other day a friend joking remarked that she saw me as 3 different people: the spiritual seeker, the regular friend, and the Chinese speaking persona. This is perhaps more true than she intended it to be. We all have our different faces for different occasions, but when you start to speak a different language, those faces multiply - or they seem to at first.

I’m an American speaking Chinese. I’m an American who looks Chinese speaking Chinese in China. I’m a Chinese person speaking Chinese. At each successive step, the face changes. In the first, perhaps I am merely translating my American-ness into another language. In the second, I’m stuck in a liminal state between cultures. In the third, I am what I was biologically evolved to be. Living here, every time I open my mouth there is a simultaneous construction and deconstruction of identity…great isn’t it?

Of course, I’m as guilty as anyone of using a particular face as a shield in vunerable or awkward situations. The funny thing is that there’s no better “shield” than an open presence, ever. I’m trying to understand this while bombarded by the taste, touch, smell, sight, and sounds of Beijing traffic everyday walking to class. Pulling wisdom teeth might be considered easier.

A “Welcome Spring Flower” in my apartment complex.

Kite flying with the neighbors…too bad there wasn’t any wind.

But I feel that I’ve never been more mindful of life than I have been living here. Maybe its the contrast that helps me to be more awake, more present. But to speak of more practical things, my Chinese has been improving! I now find myself with 2 hours of private lessons in the morning and a TV news listening class in the afternoons. Both quite challenging, especially news listening which sounds to me like the Micromachine man (anyone remember this?). But its gonna happen one day though (and I hope soon)… bilingual-ility!!

Finally! Too long have I huddled in freezing spaces, blankets heaped upon blankets, a dinky electric heater sputtering along in the corner. Spring means freedom from the elements! Though, it also means showering more often…which, I guess I can get used to. My bathing method at present consists of going to the local public bathhouse once a week - definitely a cultural experience (don’t worry, I won’t post any pictures…).

But in honor of spring Ricky, Yidi, and I headed off for a day in the sun at Bei Hai Park (北海公园). You can see the Tibetan influence in the white stupa towering over the park, a relic of Beijing’s historical ties with Tibetan religion.

The cherry blossoms were also blooming!

Me in doorway.

Girl practicing characters.

Ricky and Yidi…posing.

Behold my inspiration for the site redesign: an attempted recreation of a Beijing hutong (or alley way).

很像吗？

Two days ago I stirred from Ricky’s couch to discover a soft snow covering the hutong (hutong means “alley” in bejing and refers to the traditional alley way living spaces still found in parts of Beijing today). Too bad the only heating we have are small underpowered electric radiators only half switched on for fear of over loading the fuse box (which happens often). Still though, have been spending my time twittling my thumbs, reading some (siddhartha and economics textbooks, a strange pairing).

Now I’m focusing however on just studying Chinese. Meaning: looking for homestay and study institute ASAP. Because when you properly learn the language, its like a whole world opening up, inviting you to explore its wonders. Wonderous wonders untold (cue magic dust).

What does it mean to start a new life? Does it mean changing the outer conditions or the inner conditions? Or both.

Tonight I fly to Beijing, ostensibly to create a life there. And yet, every step of my journey thus far has been one more step into life’s great uncertainty. Though I love traveling to unknown places, it can feel so empty if you don’t have that inner compass to make sense of it all, to put it in a “framework of meaning” (or so my religious studies professors might say). And then long discussions about graduate school (in the humanities anyways) have left a lingering feeling of revulsion at the thought of big headed professors pushing their weight around. It was never the discipline itself that interested me so much as the the truth embedded somewhere deep inside. And already discussed somewhere in this blog was development work in poor communities which again suffers from the same deficiency as traveling for me. If it can be said that I have been “looking” for something in my journeys, than it can equally be said that what I’ve found are empty concepts of hopeful endeavors.

So recently I’ve seriously tried not thinking. Have you ever awoken one morning, eyes wide open, taking in all the sensory information, acutely aware, and yet, without any thought recognition? Though it only lasts a second or two, its wonderfully peaceful and full - like you’ve put down the burden of all existence in that singular moment. Those moments continue to be my inspiration on this journey and perhaps they themselves are the start of a new kind of life.

Well, staying here next semester has been all but ruled out. Today, I talked with the headmaster who very clearly stated the impossibility of me getting a work visa in Qinghai. What is still to be determined is whether or not I can stay here until the end of the term, or if I must high-tail it out of town next week. As of right now, my visa expires in 12 days…and counting. Tomorrow the Fates decide.

Funny that today marks 3 months in Rebgong.

Also interesting to see that when you are in trouble, your friends really do help you. Its nice to see that perhaps I do have more friends than I thought.

Perhaps “vanishing” isn’t the right terminology as I never really had a work visa to begin with, only a lowly 30-day travel visa that has long since expired.  This school I work for (namely, the headmaster) apparently is either incompetant or enjoys making life very very difficult for all parties involved.  This is my visa story.

Before I came, I was promised that the school would take care of my visa, while all other costs (housing, salary, etc.) are handled by private funding source.  My thirty days past, nothing was done, but I was assured that the school would take responsibility and that I would not have to pay the fine (which could be up to 5000 RMB).  A month after my visa expired, the school finally attempted to get the visa (an effort which was not facilitated by the new visa regulations this year that required a medical exam at a government facility and other innane materials). When that was finally done, the Public Security Bureau figured out that I had been here illegally for a month, and proceed to fine me personally 2000RMB, money that I don’t even have. So, my boss Charlotte paid for it (although its the school’s responsiblity) with the verbal promise of the headmaster (a sketchy dude) that he would pay her back at the end of the term (very unlikely).  Oh, this visa oddessy isn’t over yet. So after we paid the fine, we had to get a “Foreign Expert” visa which would supposedly transition smoothly into the ever elusive “work” visa.  But, beauracracy being as it is, because I am merely a college graduate and have no teaching experience, they refused to give me a foreign expert visa (although I have already been teaching for 3 months).  All I know is that I am leaving the country on December 24th for Hawaii and I will be lying on a white sand beach on X-mas day, vanishing visa and all!

So as the legend goes…there was a cruel, wrathful diety who ruled over North Eastern Tibet. He cared nothing for other beings, slaying humans and livestock where ever he went, causing immense suffering. Seeing that nothing would disuade him from doing harm, his goddess wife after many failed attempts finally divised a fool-proof plan. Being equally fierce in her compassion, she murdered the couple’s only son, allowing her husband to feel the pain that he had been so recklessly causing. This is that bodhisattva’s abode, Huaden Lhamo, the protector of this part of the Amdo grassland.

It’s a story that would easily send chills up one’s spine, especially since the shrine was nearly abandoned, caves lurking close by. Murdered babies? Dismembered animal parts (at the entrance)? Statues with manical smiles hidden in the dark? My head missing!?


That’s real fear on my face people. And nervous relief!