There was no waiting on this one! part finale

November 13, 2008

I promise this is the last part. I have decided to cut some of the show out because if I do not I will never be able to write about my other adventures. Be sure to read the other parts before the finale.

So, our man with the single-hair chest takes a bow and the lights turn up. Mr. Hype Man, the host, skips onto the stage and has a brief chat with our entertainer. He banters with the crowd and does his best to hype us up. He has limited success with only a few cheers and waving of hand clappers. I smell desperation. They must do something to electrify this crowd. I am sure that they have run into this problem before and are prepared for anything. But, am I prepared for anything?
Mr. Hype Man disappears for a moment, when he returns to the stage he is holding a rather large…
Actually, let me fast forward to the act that follows and then return to what our hype man was carrying. I feel like this was the true finale of the show and don’t want to be anticlimactic.
Astronauts, aliens, or gymnasts; I am not exactly sure. There are two of them. I believe one is male and the other, a female. They wear silver-sparkle spandex lined with lightning-blue and no socks. Mr. Hype Man announces their entrance and the sound of eighties synth vibrates the hall. I remember playing this same song on my Casio. What an awesome Christmas present. Well, apparently the Casio has made it to China.
Contortionist! That’s what they are! Contortionist! Oh, look at ‘em contort! How painful. I am impressed. Definitely not something I would venture into but impressive none the less. The pair is twisting and turning and balancing and front bending and back bending. Secretly, I am hoping they fall. I’m kind of a jerk. It is just that I lost interest in their performance after about five minutes and we are now twenty minutes in.
I look over at the now sleeping Fei Fei and then give Marta the lets go nudge. We catch a cab and return home. What a night.
Back to Mr. Hype Man holding a rather large mug of beer, a stein, if you will. He holds it up to the crowd, and then sets it down at center stage. He says some words and the lights cut out. The drummer gives us a role and the portly rock super star stands over the mug, a single spot light shining down upon our hero! Arms raised and looking for praise. The crowd roars “Jiayou, Jiayou!” “You can do it!”
The great porker gets on all fours and wraps his mouth around the rim. Hype man shouts, “Gan Bei!” “Bottoms up!” Our hero leans back, eyes to the sky, and beer down the throat. The crowd is cheering! Clapping and smacking their hand clappers against their knees. I’m speechless. I was speechless then and I’m speechless now. I’m exhausted and have no way to respond to this. I have laughed as much as I can laugh, I have no more!
So, what can we conclude from this night, this adventure, this once in a life time experience?
First, it turns out that this would not be a once in a life time experience. Second, what was sold to me as an opera may have contained an opera performance but was in fact a variety show. A variety show, have you ever been to a variety show? Well, for those who have not, it is a must do.
Finally, I have concluded that a variety show is an immature form of entertainment. Variety shows are prevalent in developing societies. They are a way to develop the entertainment industry. Society uses variety shows to determine what they consider to be entertaining. The current generation in China is the first to have a surplus of money and time to spend. They want to be entertained and are perhaps uncertain of their own taste. How to discover a society’s taste in entertainment? The Variety Show!

There was no waiting on this one! part 3

November 13, 2008

Have you read part 1 and 2 yet?

Intermission. I stand up to stretch my legs, take a trip to the bathroom, and return to my seat. Hand-clapper thingy in hand (mine had DBZ characters on it!), I am ready for whatever comes next…
When the drums kick in and the bass starts rumbling; the curtains flash open and Russian dancers storm the stage. Yeah, Russian Dancers! By the way, if you got that Jazz June reference you might be a music snob. Before I get to the dancers, allow me to set the stage. In the background and on a raise is a little Chinese man sitting behind an enormous electric drum set. Below him and a bit to the left is a regular sized Chinese man playing bass guitar. He is wearing a torn-70s-rocker-tie-dye-sleeveless-t-shirt, holey-80s-stonewashed-studded-tight-jeans-hyphon and a wig. Yes, a blonde metal head wig. And! This man wielded a Gene Simmons-like axe! I was so incredibly overwhelmed by this mans glory that it is impossible for me to recall or describe the guitar player’s wardrobe. In fact, I’m not sure I can properly describe the dancers.
Children cover your ears… There was one male dancer with an erotically oversized bulge and six female strippers. I am making an assumption and I am no dance critic. I can only be certain that these women were not professional ballet dancers. They dressed the part but no. No! Definitely not ballet dancers. I’m going to go ahead and make the assertion that these women were found in a Russian strip club and offered a reasonable price to tour China as a ballet dance group. As for Mr. Compensation, who knows? Maybe this was his opportunity to escape the Gulag. The opera was confusing enough but…
At this point I am very, very confused. The amalgamation of these elements and I don’t mean the mixing of metal with mercury, has sent my mind into a frenzied state of giddiness. I look over to see Marta’s jaw-dropped face and when our eyes meet we break into an uncontrollable laughter. Here is the problem. Everyone in this building is respectfully and intently watching the stage performance. I am doing my best to contain myself but during every musical break my laughter echoes through the hall.
Now, I have successfully attracted the attention of the audience on the second tier. I do not believe anyone is watching the show at this moment. But that’s ok because watching to foreigners crying from laughter is probably more entertaining than the crap-show on stage. I do my best to calm myself but the harder I try, the more I laugh. Alas, they have left the stage. A flashy dressed man charges out and raises his hand to wave and welcomes himself to the stage. Oh, he is excited. He says something in Chinese and the crowd erupts in laughter. Ah, it was a joke. He says some more words and scampers off stage.
AHH SHIT, it’s the dancers again! I can’t take it anymore. I am almost fall off the edge of my seat. I cling to the ledge like Stallone in the 1993 cliffhanger, Cliffhanger. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I am really becoming quite the embarrassment. I determine the only way to keep from peeing myself is to hold my breath and close my eyes. It works! Finally, the dancers leave the stage for the last time. The flashy dressed man returns to the stage and says some more words. The lights dim and the guitar player strums an intro.
A hidden 70s rock voice belts out a powerful note. The guitar hits the distortion, the drums pop, the bass pounds, the lights flash, and a portly man skips out to center stage. He belts out another note. On the third belting he tears open his golden-shimmer shirt to expose his supple nipple and sweaty chest hair (singular, he has one chest hair). I lower my head, forehead on forehand. I can’t handle this. I’m too exhausted. The Russians already broke me down. “I give, I give!” “Uncle, uncle, uncle!” “Stop. Please, stop.” He doesn’t, He won’t, and they love it. This is not entertainment. What is wrong with you people? What is happening here? I need a moment…

There was no waiting on this one! part 2

November 13, 2008

If you have not read part one, part two will make no sense. But do what you want, I merely suggest starting with part 1.

Act-II begins with an empty stage. The emperor and his fair lady stroll across the stage professing their love for each other. We can see in the empress’ eyes that she thirsts for more, she seeks the unknown, she seeks excitement and she seeks adventure. Her eyes drift from the emperor and land upon a handsome man walking among the water’s edge. “Who is this man?” she asks. Is he a scholar, a philosopher, a traveler, or a poet? He is an intellectual. He is an Artist. He is Zhan Zeduan! Oh! If only they could someday cross paths. Surely this man could show her the world!
Act-well this is interesting. The scene begins in the desert. Fifty or so dancers take the stage. They are dancers from all over the world. Russians, Palestinians, Arabians bring brilliants to the stage in their flashy traditional garb. Assyrians, Egyptians, and Zulu leap and twirl threw the air. The drums beat and the orchestra rages. Each group begins their solo and ethnically unique dance number and the finale is a group number. It is at this moment my suspicions arise. Where did these groups come from? Is this the empress’ dream? Did Zhan Zeduan travel the world? Are all these cultural groups visiting Bianjing? Lets wait for the next act. Maybe I’ll put it together.
Act-I’m not exactly sure what is going on. We are back in town! There is a lively market and street performers! The drum beats are heavy and the orchestra is vibrant. Oh Yeah! There isn’t any orchestra, it is all prerecorded. I thought a live orchestra would help give the experience a little extra zing! Sorry. Two children take the stage. A bullwhip snaps! And its time for an incredible traditional street performance! The boy is doing somersaults and the girl is folding her body into unacceptably contorted ways. A group of women twirly wheel string fling-a-ma-bobbers hit the stage in their brightly colored gowns. How exciting. WAIT JUST ONE MOMENT!!! What happened to the story about the scroll and the artist and the empress?
Act-Oh, here we are. The scroll, the artist, the emperor, and the empress are center stage. Zhan Zeduan hand the scroll over to the emperor. The emperor’s servants arrive stage right and inspect the scroll. They are five inseparable beings. Each wears a color representing one of the elements or the Olympic rings. It is hard to tell these days. The Olympics have penetrated every facet of Chinese culture and entertainment. They inspect and inspect and inspect. They role up the scroll and unroll it again and inspect, inspect, inspect. “Ah, what a wonderful piece,” they exclaim. The emperor agrees and belts out a verse describing the beauty of the scroll. The empress agrees and exclaims her love for the scroll. Ah, ha! I see what is happening here. The empress and the artist are going to hook up at any moment!
Act-I’m lost again. The lights are dim. The music is low. The curtains shimmer. I can see an enormous object drifting onto the stage. I can’t make it out. Oh… What is it!?! The curtain is transparent but not enough for me to make out the ominous silhouette now at center stage. Oh God! What it is it!?! The music once again rolls into crescendo! The anticipation is killing me! With a cymbal crash and a triumphant beat of the drum; the lights flash and the curtains rise! There! At center stage! Atop a massive Junk! The Great Zhan Zeduan! He is signing! He is signing about… Wait for it… Not his love for the beautiful empress, not his desire for knowledge… He is singing about the scroll. I’m scratching my head right now.
Act-I give up. We are back at the town square. Our triumphant Zhan Zeduan has returned from his boat trip. Not sure where the boat took him; maybe around the world, maybe to the south of China to avoid the invading Jurchans, or perhaps to the other side of the yellow river. Who knows? I'm currently researching this point. For now, all I know is that kids are doing somersaults and everyone in the cast is on stage dancing. The older woman from Act-I is back on stage and signing again. She tells us that Zhan Zeduan painted a magnificent and now famous scroll and that the emperor likes it, the town loves it, and the world is astonished by it. The End.
Really? That was it? Why all the street performances? Why the boat ride? Why the love affair? Why the elemental/Olympic servants? AAHHHH! What does this all mean!?!

I fear that at this point I will never be able to complete this blog entry. Everything I have discussed thus far is only the tip of the iceberg. I apologize for the lengthiness of this story but it is what it is and I look forward to writing about what happens next...

There was no waiting on this one! part 1

November 13, 2008

Never before have I been witness to an event such as the one I experienced on Thursday November 13^th 2008. And I have seen a lot of Sh*t! I dare not delay this blog entry for I do not want to forget a single detail nor miss any element. This may be an all-nighter! I fear that any description I can imagine, any words that I can create, or any statement I can manage to type into my computer will not do justice to the display of utterly confused showmanship which would mislead an audience to interpret such an incomplete message that was literally “Lost in Translation” and is somehow interpreted as, of what one would stretch to call… No, dare to call, art or perhaps even entertainment. Wow. And I say again… Wow. Give me a minute here. I am still trying to absorb that last long-winded statement I made. I have read it eight times now, and yes, it is exactly what I meant to say. However, I need yet another minute as my mind is still trying to process everything that has happened in the three hours prior.

The story begins with a simple invitation from a friend. “May I treat you to the opera tomorrow night?” she said. “I would love to,” I said. And so it began. Steve and Travis, “You missed out!” Marta and I met our friends outside of our gate and piled into a cab. The theater is just outside of the city’s west gate. It is a beautiful theater; its grandeur reminds me a little of Vegas. A bold face and towering pillars mark the entryway. As you enter, light shimmers from crystal chandeliers high above. The banisters of a sweeping grand staircase are woven with red ribbons. The center piece of the entrance hall is a masterfully carved wooden Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith commemorating the 2008 Beijing Olympics! This beautifully sculpted wooden artwork was created by a native Kaifeng wood craftsman whom Travis and Steve met not too long ago. Walking up the carpeted staircase I am unaware of the creature that hides behind the enormous hardwood doors ahead.

The girls check their bags and we make our way inside the opera hall. The seats are wonderfully cozy. The interior is much like the Goodman Theater, Chicago-a little bit smaller. The lights dim and the music slowly fades in. Characters appear on stage from the left and the right. The music continues to gain momentum and approaches crescendo as the performers scatter across the stage.

Let me pause with my description of the evening so that I may focus my audience’s attention on the word ethnocentrism! I know some of my students may be reading and it is important that they understand my understanding of their understanding of the cultural significance of the events of this evening as I attempt to understand it myself and help others to understand my understanding of the audiences’ understanding of the performances. If you are lost in this sentence, not to worry, that is a good start. Being lost is important for us to be able to appreciate ethnocentrism. Yes, appreciate. If we are never lost how could we learn to find our way? Let me share with you how I found my interpretation of ethnocentrism.

The dictionary will tell you that ethnocentrism is the belief of the superiority of one’s own ethnic group. Superiority, really? I think the dictionary made a typo; or is their a better word for its definition or perhaps a better definition? I think the dictionary definition of ethnocentrism is meant for the word ethnosuperioritism; patent pending. And no, ethnosuperioritism is not a fancy word for racism. Racism is the belief that race is the primary determinant of human traits and capabilities and that these racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race. Ethnosuperioritism is the belief that ethnicity is the primary determinant of human behavior, customs, and language and that these ethnic differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular ethnic group. So, how is ethnocentrism different? Well, ethnocentrism simply doesn’t have the attitude of superiority within its definition. Bias, yes! Predisposition, absolutely! Superiority, I don’t think so!

Ethnocentrism is the tendency to interpret another ethnic groups’ behavior, ideology, and custom with the bias, predisposition, and filter of one’s own ethnicity. Now, the purpose of my blog is to describe the events I witness and share the interactions I experience. To enhance my definition of ethnocentrism I will continue my description of the event I witnessed on Thursday, November 13^th 2008 and the corresponding interactions of that evening. Let me remind my audience and myself that I am lost in my own ethnocentricity and as the introduction expressed; I am very confused and even overwhelmed. With that said, let me first say that while I may be lost, it is my opinion that the people in the audience whom I shared this experience with were possibly just as lost if not more so. The question I therefore pose is if they are just as confused about the events of the evening then why do they behave the way they do? O.K. enough jibber-jabber! Let’s get down to business!

An older women steps into the spotlight of center stage. Of course I don’t understand a word of the gentile voice that fills the concert hall. Fortunately my friends are here to help translate. I won’t spend time explaining the translations unless it is valuable to the story. From here on I will tell the story as if I understood the language but keep in mind that my descriptions come from a mix of my friends translations, my own incite, and the historical knowledge of myself, Marta, and Wikipedia.

The woman at center stage tells us the story of an ancient time; a time when Bianjing, now Kaifeng, was the capital and Chinese culture was flourishing. I compare it to the French Renaissance; this was a time for new beginnings, new artistic style, and the desire to record history prevailed. This was the period of time when the greatest literary project was compiled. This was the time period that Emperor Yingzong ordered the great Sima Guang to transcribe the universal history of China, the Zizhi Tongjian or “Comprehensive Mirror to Aid in Government.” This was the Song Dynasty (960-1279).

The scene is set as performers pull fruit and vegetable carts into position. In the background dancers are twirling about and tossing colorful ribbons to-and-fro. The stage lights swirl around and around adding to the magic and mystery of the performance. There is a man strolling from one end of the stage to the other. He is well dressed and has a steady gait. The character exudes authority and demands respect. He stops at the different shops to examine the merchandise. He appears to be wealthy but lacks an entourage so I do not believe he is of nobility. We see the man stop and look into the background and foreground and even into the audience. He is an intellectual… He is an Artist! He is the great calligrapher who created the Qingming Scroll, a brilliant visual representation of Kaifeng daily life. He is Zhang Zeduan!

Zhang Zeduan walks the streets of Kaifeng. He ponders life and love. He is gentry. He enjoys philosophy, painting, and poetry. Many of his stature enjoyed such activities. No doubt, he spent many a days in the Iron Pagoda Park; situated just a block from my apartment. With all this extra time on his hands it is no wonder that he was able to paint the beautiful Qingming Scroll and fall in love with the beautiful empress! Ah ha, now things are surely to become interesting…

This is the part were we realize that there is no way that I can complete this in a single entry, not to mention I am now in my second week of writing. With that said, I encourage you to check back for part 2 and 3 and 4 and 5 and I'm just not sure how long this will take!

Super Mario Kart, Kaifeng Edition

October 5, 2008

Dan and Jim Meyer were my childhood friends. We discovered many ways to cause trouble and even more creative ways to stay out of it. We teepee’d our first house together, built forts in the woods, started fires, fell into the ice covered pond, flipped through the pages of our first porn, smoked our first cigarettes and drank our first beers together. Yes, Billary Beer. Sorry dad. I do not remember if you caught me on that one or not.

However, before all the shenanigans, we had a different passion. Super Mario Kart. It was 1992 and I had spent the night at the Meyer’s house. They had just got the first installment of one of Nintendo’s finest game series ever created. This spin-off of Super Mario Brothers would occupy a large part of my pre-adolescent and adolescent evenings. My parents never bought me a game council, perhaps hoping that I would focus on reading, writing, or sports. I was never much of a reader or writer. Math and science came natural to me and it took little effort to get by in my classes. I played soccer, baseball, and basketball during the day. In the evenings, it was off to the Meyer’s house for some heated battle mode or grand prix. Who would have thought that 16 years later Super Mario Kart would provide me with such a great analogy here in Kaifeng.

It is mid-morning and I stand on the corner of Shu Dian Jie (Book Store Street) and Kai Zheng Jie (the street connecting Kaifeng and Zhengzhou). I have no agenda today. I am simply going for a walk and observing the day to day of Kaifeng-ites. This corner is one of only a few intersections equipped with a street light and crossing guard. The racers rev their engines. They are lined up two-by-two.

Peach has the poll position. She is a young graduate of the police academy. Her uniform is dark blue and she pulls her hair back into a ponytail. She is riding a silver electric-scooter. Peach is a novice rider with great ambition. To her right is Mario. He is a middle aged local driving an auto rickshaw, he carries one passenger today. His Kart is agile and swift. Luigi and Yoshi are set in the second row. Luigi is a second year student at Kaifeng University, the local trade school. He carries a blue backpack and a bag of dumplings hang from the handle bars of his ten-speed peddle bike. Yoshi sits calmly in his Kia Optima. He is on his way to the reality office. He lives in Kaifeng and commutes forty minutes to Zhengzhou every morning. Zhengzhou is a rapidly developing transportation hub. It houses an airport and supports central rail and bus stations. There are loads of opportunities for an aspiring reality tycoon like Yoshi.

Directly behind him awaits the bruiser known as Bowser. Bowser drives a blue cab. His Kart is slow, but not to worry, this man has navigated the chaotic streets of Kaifeng for over ten years. Where he lacks in speed he excels in experience. To his left is the crafty Toad. This youthful liberal arts student has just received a moped from his older brother. The moped isn’t especially quick but gives the rider the ability to weave in and out of traffic and utilize the back streets and sidewalks to evade any traffic jams. Bringing up the rear are Koopa Troopa and Donkey Kong. Koopa Troopa is an older man. He rides his trusty old peddle rickshaw, with a rusty chain and a squeaky break. The old man has seen the world around him develop at light speed. He stays true to his tradition and keeps a smile on his face rain or shine. To his right, Donkey Kong, peddling a bulky pull-cart loaded with a surplus of vegetables from the farmers market. Perhaps he will have better sales tomorrow.

The little cloud man swoops down to wave the starting flag. The light flashes red, then yellow, then green. They’re off! Peach spins her tires into a stall. She hasn’t mastered the timing for the jump start. Mario, Toad, and Bowser nail the start and jump out front, neck and neck. Bowser and Toad are in a heated match for the lead. Bowser’s experience shines on this day. He gives toad the inside lane. Out of nowhere, a bus squeals into the intersection. Toad has two choices; slam on the breaks or slam into the bus. He hits the breaks and Bowser takes the lead!

The racers have not yet crossed the intersection and it is too early to count anyone out. Yoshi, Koopa Troopa, and Donkey Kong are in a dead heat. None hit the jump start, none stalled. Yoshi, with his speedy Kia, inches ahead. Donkey Kong puts his weight into the battle and forces Koopa Troopa onto the shoulder. Luigi relies on strategy, he drafts Donkey until he peddles up enough speed and momentum for an overtake. Yoshi has caught up to the slower Bowser who is preoccupied with his quest for a passenger. Yoshi swerves in and out of the lanes, waiting for the right moment to take the lead. Just then, a pedestrian jumps into the lanes of traffic. Bowser hits the breaks, Yoshi strafes left and puts the peddle to the metal.

Hurling into the first turn it is Yoshi with the lead! Followed closely by Mario and Luigi. Nipping at their heals are Donkey Kong and Peach. Koopa Troopa is far behind but gaining ground with his slowly but surely strategy. Toad is nowhere to be found after dodging the bus and ducking off into a side road. Bowser has picked up a passenger and pulls a U-banger; I think this race is over for him as well. I decide to leave the race and continue with my day. The light changes again and the crossing guard waves me through. I think I’ll check out the morning snacks at Gu Lou.

Producing Guanpee

October 3, 2008

On the night of October 1, 2008 02:00 Mike wakes up in a cool, wet bed. He is confused and annoyed. He immediately drops his pants and moves to another bed. His crotch is dry. He did not pee himself. What happened?

18 hours earlier

06:00 Board the train at Kaifeng

10:00 Play go fish with nudie cards, attract a crowd

12:00 Pass the 25^th power pant

14:00 Pass the elevated bridge to nowhere

16:00 Arrive in Xi’an

16:10 Find the line to purchase return tickets

16:15 Confuse the man at the ticket counter with our broken Chinese

16:20 Get our tickets

16:25 Poop in the McDonalds bathroom

16:36 Head south from the North Gate

16:50 Pass the exceedingly large government building

17:20 Find the youth hostel

17:50 Stop at Starbucks and enjoy a Grande Americano, Travis does not enjoy said coffee. Steve drinks a girly Carmel Frappuccino.

18:10 Enter Muslim quarter

18:34 Do not find The Great Mosque, pass it many times

18:46 Find excellent Muslim grill

18:55 Eat delicious Muslim grilled food (Including Ostrich)

19:45 Return to hostel, poo

20:30 Find Bar Street

20:34 Find bum wine

20:39 Finish bum wine

20:43 Pass tittie bar

20:45 Enter sweet-ass hostel on Bar Street

20:47 Order beer and shots of whisky

20:49 Finish beer, finish shots

20:51 Return to Bar Street

20:56 Enter Captain’s

21:10 Meet Chinese students from Xi’an, they buy us beers

21:20 They buy us more beers

21:31 Students call it a night, we finish their beers

21:40 Meet a group celebrating their 10 year reunion

21:43 Mike goes for smokes

21:46 Travis and Steve drink an unknown amount of an unknown alcohol

21:50 Mike returns

22:57 Mike meets a Chinese student

22:59 Steve names Chinese student Chuck

23:02 Return to hostel on Bar Street

23:03 Travis, Steve, Chuck, and Mike take a seat at bar

23:04 Shots of Jack

23:05 Chugging beer

23:06 Uncertain

23:08 Move to a table, Chuck buys us beer

23:15 Steve talks to an Indian guy from Germany who had lived in China for three years and has returned to visit friends. He speaks perfect English.

23:18 Yuci invites us to club

23:19 Travis is missing, we do not go to club

23:45 Travis returns

23:50 Travis makes enemies

23:51 Mike, Steve, and Chuck do not understand

23:54 Travis yells something and runs out door never to return

23:55 Mike, Steve, and Chuck do not understand

00:07 Uncertain

00:11 Uncertain

00:21 Uncertain

00:24 Uncertain

00:31 Uncertain

00:45 Leave hostel

00:46 Mike falls over

00:48 Mike falls over again

00:52 Mike runs across the street

00:53 Chuck gives chase

00:54 Steve laughs out loud

00:57 Steve and Chuck drag me back home

01:01 Steve wrestles Mike into bed

01:02 Mike does not want to go to bed

01:04 Mike passes out

01:30 Steve needs to puke

01:31 Steve steps in conspicuous puddle

01:32 Steve pukes

02:00 Mike wakes up in a cool wet bed. He is confused and annoyed. He immediately drops his pants and moves to another bed. His crotch is dry. He did not pee himself.

09:30 Alarms ring, Mike mentions the unusual event and points at the wet bed.

Beijing Huan Ying Ni

Tuesday, September 23 2008

I step off the train at 7am. I look down the platform to see thousands of people poring out of the train. I boarded the train in darkness and did not see how long it was. I can not see the end. It must be a half mile long. I follow the crowd down a stairwell to the left and begin my search for the exit. The station is enormous. There are more than twenty platforms and people are coming and going from every direction. The station has less English than I would have liked so I relied on my fellow passengers to find the end.

After a fifteen minute hike I step outside to catch my first glimpse of Beijing. Exiting the station is much like stepping onto the streets from Union Station. There are massive buildings all around and cabs line the street to take the new arrivals to their final destination. Unlike Chicago, the people waiting for the trains are camped out front. It seems that many people purchase train tickets the day of there desired train. It is impossible to determine when one will get a ticket; some may wait a full day. I do not think I have the patients for such a wait.

I walk a block or so from the station to catch a cab because I do not want to wait in line. I do not need to check in to my hotel until 6p so I have some time to kill. Tiananmen is my first stop. The cabbie drops me off around the corner from the square and I am immediately hounded to buy souvenirs. I am interested in the post cards a man is selling, I ask him how much. He replies, “20.” I laugh and turn to walk away. He asks, “How much you pay?” I reply, “Not 20.” “How much?” He asks again. I bust out my Chinese skills and explain to him that I am a teacher at Henan University and do not make a lot of money. I tell him I am not a tourist and will only pay Chinese prices. He gives me a hearty smile and laughs aloud. He tells me that my Chinese is very good and that I know China. “For you, 10 kui.” I laugh and say, “tai gui le! 5 kui.” He laughs again and tells me I’m a good bargainer but he can not sell them for less then 8 kui. That is 1 USD for ten postcards in a heavy tourist area and I felt it was a good deal. I give him the money and wish him a good day. He wishes me a good time in Beijing and quotes the Olympic song, “Beijing hui yi ni” “Beijing welcomes you.”

It is a beautiful day; the sun is shining and the sky is clear. I walk the sidewalk towards Tiananmen. I am overcome with excitement and my heart is beating heavily. I am about to enter one of the most historical sites in the world. Well, most historical for me because I have studied Chinese politics for the past two years. Tiananmen was witness to massive rallies and protests, celebration and mourning. Tiananmen, Gateway of Heavenly Peace, was initially built in 1417. It marks the entrance to the Forbidden City and represents the political heart of China. Visiting the square one finds Tiananmen Tower, Monument to the People's Heroes, the Great Hall of the People and the Mao Zedong Memorial Hall. Walking around the square I imagine what it must have been like to see Chairmen Mao standing on the steps of the Great Hall of the People to address a crowd of thousands waving their little red books and chanting “Wu huang, wan sui, wan sui, wan wan sui!” or to be witness to the Tank Man standing in defiance. So cool!

I cross the street to The Forbidden City. Steve suggested that I visit the parks outside of the city. I enter the National Garden, located east of the city. There are many rock gardens and wonderful flower sculptures scattered about the park. There are women dancing and singing to old men playing the er hu. The er hu is a traditional instrument I first heard about in my CLS program two summers ago. I would like to learn to play since I do not have a guitar here with me. Plus, I think it would be interesting.

After capturing a sweet photo of a butterfly in flight I make my way through the crowds to The Forbidden City. The city design is powerful in stature. It is certainly meant to leave a lasting impression on the visitor. The main squares and temples are impressive but are empty of any cultural relics. To find those, the visitor must get to the side streets and check out all the mini museums. Unfortunately, I primarily find replicas and souvenirs. However, I do find a sweet Mao Zedong shoulder bag! Awesome! The symbol of Mao is quite powerful and I find myself unable to resist his magic. Even knowing the history, I am falling in love. After careful reflection I have come to understand my new obsession. Mao represents a great paradigm in Chinese culture. There were many policy failures under his rule but he is a symbol of the greater good. An idea; the idea that someday this nation will achieve utopia.

“One World, One Dream” was the 2008 Beijing Olympics motto. A dream shared by a nation, to be shared by the world. To live in peace and act for mutual benefit is the aim of China’s five foreign policy principles. An icon such as Mao Zedong, in a warped way, has lead China towards prosperity. I wonder if a new icon will emerge to bring our world towards prosperity, towards utopia. I wonder if during my life time I will have a Martin Luther King, a Gandhi, of Mother Teresa. Will the 2008 Olympic motto become a reality or will the nations of the world destroy each other? Will we overcome the challenges of global warming? Will we never see past our religious or ideological differences to achieve mutual benefit and peace? I am happy to be living during a time that we may some day look back on and describe as the most defining moments in human history. I hope we survive.