DO YOU LIKE THESE PICTURES?
This is just a small sample of the photographs
I took this past summer
while traveling in Southeast Asia.
Please check out the rest of the photos...
by following the links
below.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Reckoning, Thanksgiving-style
OR ON FAMILY, FOOD, AND SELF-DISCOVERY It all started with an email. An email I didn't want to write. It started with a joke about cooking an entire turkey in a wok, and it ended with me inviting myself and a bunch of other Obies to the recipient's house for Thanksgiving weekend. To a Thanksgiving party he had yet to know he was hosting. I quickly wrote the email, and I quickly sent it. Suffice to say, I was nervous. This email led to an amazing chain of events, involving a trip to Beijing, a two-day cooking marathon, a great Thanksgiving party, and the possibility of an invite next year. But Thanksgiving ’11 was more than just traveling, cooking, and partying. Amidst all the chaos, it became oddly self-reflective. Beautifully so. Let me share with you what I came up with while making my first green bean casserole, sans my loving aunts.
Thanksgiving is about family. Blood, chosen, adopted, makeshift. Whatever. Some family we love. Some we loathe. Some we avoid. Some we don’t name. But around family, the kind of family you want surrounding you, you are you. You are yourself. You fit. You don’t put on airs. And you can finally…relax. See, I’m an interesting person. I feel like I can fit in almost anywhere. You drop me anywhere, without any friends, without any language skills, and I will make friends. My fit is decent almost anywhere. But where is it great? Where can I…relax?
I can fit almost anywhere because I’m flexible. Adaptive. And I’m a hybrid. And I now think that the only people who will truly feel like family to me will have to be hybrids too. Let me talk you through all my roots, and then you can come to your own conclusions.
Wisconsin. The land of my fore-bearers. For at least 5 generations. My parents grew up in the same tiny town in southern Wisconsin. Understandably, we visited as often as we could, going to Beaver Dam maybe 3 or 4 times a year from my birth until I left for college. Once a factory town on the edge of the prairie, it's now a commuter suburb to Madison or Milwaukee, and also an unofficial retirement home. The town is full of babies and old people, and has no one from the ages of 18 to 30 still living there. Regardless, it is a nice place to hang out – somewhere where local shopkeepers would ask how your grandparents were ("They're no spring chickens" was a popular comment), and who would tell you funny stories about your parents when they were kids. By the time I was in college, 3 of my 4 grandparents had died, as had most of my parents' friends and relatives still living in Beaver Dam. During college, my final grandparent died, and suddenly we didn't know anyone who lived there anymore. I haven't been back since.
I like people from this town. But don't get me wrong. I'd never want to live in such a small town permanently (though my housing record for the past 5 and 1/2 years might say differently). But the people there are good, unarguably so. They are very down to earth, don't put on airs, and genuinely want to be nice to you. They don't fake it. They value a person’s word. They follow through. They value self-sufficiency and humility. I remember when my late aunt was just beginning to get sick. When we'd come to visit, she pretended that everything as still the same. That she wasn't sick. That she didn't need any help. That she could handle it. To this day, I still don't know what kind of cancer she died of. She never talked about it. Her attitude was this: whatever comes, comes. And as it comes, I’ll deal with it. Without complaint. All the people who make up my Midwestern family take life on life's terms. They don't try to paint it another color. They live life honestly. This too is how I like dealing with the world.
Washington, DC. The land of my upbringing. Could anywhere be more different from rural Wisconsin than the hotbed of American politics? Washingtonians make a point of painting everything a new and different color from its original. They've made “faking it” a fine art. The contrast is so severe that I normally define my self-conduct in opposition to DC’s. I am this way despite the fact I grew up in DC. Yes, it is that bad. In DC, everyone just smiles and smiles at you. But the second you step out of the room, people pull out their claws and rip your name to shreds. Honesty is not valued. Anyone who follows American politics knows that DC is never good at following through on its promises, regardless of which party is in charge.
DC has some redeeming qualities. I grew up thinking eating Chinese, Indian, Italian, and Midwestern American food all in one week was normal. I grew up thinking it was easy to see a doctor, even a specialist. Easy to get a visa. Easy to see a concert or a play. Easy to go to an art museum, and when you got bored, go to another one. DC is a very segregated place, but it began to show me that many types of people live in the world, and when they come together, they can create a beautiful, delicious place. It took living in Oberlin, where our exotic food binaries between take-out Chinese and take-out pizza, or living in Taigu, where I'm lucky if I can find food originating from outside my province (forget international food besides oreos and knockoff KFC). I'm staunchly cosmopolitan, and proud of it.
Taigu. Oh Taigu. My home for the past year and a half. I've lived and visited many places abroad, from Ghana to Mexico to England to Germany, but you, my friend, will leave the longest impression. Who was it that said two years was a long time? Whose face did I laugh in when they said that? By definition, by duration, by sheer shock value, Taigu will leave a lasting impression. And for all the trouble it's been, I do believe the impact will be a positive one.
Taigu has things that bother me. Perhaps this in an understatement. This makes it so that this place could never be a home for me. It kills me how un-cosmopolitan it is. And I could never emulate the interpersonal skills of the locals here. You must always speak so negatively about yourself, and always say “no” when anyone offers you anything. You know what? I’ve been there, done that. And when I do behave in these ways, I start believing what I’m saying, start feeling very depressed, feel like I have no close friends (since I’m rejecting their offers all the time) and that I’m experiencing less of China than I could. For example, if someone invites me to their hometown to have a meal with their family, should I turn it down just so I come off as polite? (Some say you should turn down things three times before you say yes.) No! That would be stupid.
But there are some things Taigu-ren (Taigu people) have gotten right. I love the way people deal with problems here. My problems and projects become my friends’ problems and projects, and vice versa. I can count on my friends always looking out for the answer to my queries, and are quick to tell me, if their do find out the answer…even if it is months later. And whenever I can, I love having something to give back, like speaking English, knowing how to play music, and being familiar with some hidden places in Nong Da and Taigu.
In short, this Thanksgiving, this time of being with and focusing on family, has given me a blue print for the style of family I want to build when I settle down in the States (if I ever settle down). I want a community of people who will give me the space to have Wisconsinite / Washingtonian / Taigu-ren tastes. And I won’t settle for anything less.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
A Taigu Winter Wonderland (Pictures)
OR HAVING NOT SEEN IT IN TWO YEARS, SNOW HAS NEVER BEEN MORE FUN...OR HAZARDOUS I love snow. In DC, every time snow was hinted at in the forecast, school was canceled. In Oberlin, it could snow anytime between November and May. Snow kept things lively. I could always count on finding an igloo on my way to class, or seeing some friends jumping off the Dascomb 2nd floor cafeteria roof onto a big snow heap. Last year in Taigu was just not the same without snow. The world was brown, coal-filled, and lacked all forms except the mildest of flurries. This year, all of the sudden, and without warning, we had a snow storm! A proper snow storm! Within 4 hours we had around 4 inches of snow! Luckily my students had invited me out to lunch. We still went, driving over unplowed roads in a rickety taxi cab. We ate a HUGE meal, complete with bai jiu (Chinese hard liquor...or as I like to call it, Chinese rubbing alcohol). I came home drunk to 4 inches of snow, and immediately decided it was snowman time. I then walked around taking pictures. The next day, some students invited me to their snowball fight, where they preceded to pick me up, drop me in a snow drift, and pile as much snow as possible on top of my uncovered head. Don't worry, I got them back. ;-)
Our campus has turned into a winter wonderland.
Everything looks prettier in the snow.
Even my rat-filled, drafty house.
On the first day of snow, I built this guy. I decorated him with unwanted Chinese candy and compost.
Rain or shine, you can count on the Chinese being out and about.
With umbrella galore.
And even biking around in a blizzard.
I was ecstatic about the snow.
Others were not so happy.
Welcome to the Third World, boys and girls. We apparently have no snow plows at Nong Da, so every last street and sidewalk was hand-shoveled (if it was shoveled). The best part is they don't salt the roads here, so every walk or bike ride outside has neck-breaking possibilities! Fun!
On the second or third day, the ice on the trees did something really cool. Way to stick to yourself, water.
Days later, Taigu is still the slippery, beautiful wonderland the blizzard bestowed upon us. Death by ice slip and all, I would still take snowy Taigu any day.
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