Eric's Beijing Diary

Becky, one of the waitresses at the coffee bar tried to give me a special birthday treat tonight. She wanted to order in a bowl of rice porridge. But the coffee bar wouldn't let her bring in something from outside. So I had to settle for a carmel latte. Somehow, I managed to muddle through, as Churchill would say.

Fifty-three years old. Can you believe it? Of course I cannot instantly recall every one of the birthdays I have logged over the past half-century. But I do have a sense for the kinds of feelings that birthdays evoke, and how those feelings have slowly changed with the flow of time. Strange how the passing of the years brings a yearning for the other side of the river. Don't get any ideas, I'm not going anywhere just yet. And I have not lost my passion for life as opportunity. But I have less and less worry about all the things one might miss when the time comes to leave this life behind.

The other day, I was listening to a preacher describe the crossing of the river from Pilgrim's Progress. Great literature though it is, it did not diminish my distaste for death. I hate death. So the process is not any more appealing to me now than it ever has been. But the prospect of being finally free from all the superficiality of life in this present evil world seems more and more appealing all the time.

But I have stuff to do. After he survived the shooting by John Hinkley, Ronald Reagan said that he felt he was living on borrowed time, and that he rest of his life must be dedicated to doing that which God had spared him for. I identify with Reagan's sentiment in this sense: As the years pass, there is a growing conviction that the remaining years must be focused on what is really important and worthwhile. A realization that the great can so easily be edged out by the good. That an understanding of God's purpose is as important as knowledge of the skills needed to perform whatever job one might be blessed with.

I am a believer. That means that I believe in God. But it also means that I look at the future with an underlying sense of optimism, daring to believe that what seems impossible can be accomplished if we just put our minds to it. Extraordinary miracles have often happened to very ordinary people just because they dared to believe it could be. So I resume the journey with a renewed sense that God has a purpose for my life, and that the resources needed to accomplish that purpose are already provided for me, and will be fully available for me to pick up and put into use when the time is right. Life is purpose.

Out of the Beihai sauna into the crisp Spring air of North China. What a difference a simple airplane flight makes! It's good to be home. Beihai does have nice evenings, but the mosquitoes really get to me. It isn't just their biting. They chew with their mouths open. Keeps me awake. I got about an hour of sleep last night.

When I got back to Beijing (that is, the part of me that hadn't been digested by the mosquitoes), I took the shuttle bus back to the university. The airport shuttle is a lot cheaper than a taxi, and it stops right at the North Gate, which is where I live. Only problem is, on the way back, it drops me off on the far side of the Ring Road, so I have to walk around to the cross over bridge. I had just gotten off the bus, and was beginning the hike, when a motorcycle taxi pulled up. Couldn't resist. If it had been summertime with my backpack, I wouldn't have bothered. But when I am teaching, I travel with a considerably heavier load, what with books, computer, and generally more changes of clothes.

The motorcycle taxis in Beijing usually charge 5 kuai, although I did have one down by the Square try to charge me 50 once. They are not metered, so you need to be sure about the price before you get in. But those guys are generally pretty good. Don't ever, ever pay 50 kuai for a motorcycle taxi, though. In many cities they only charge 3, but in Beijing they have always asked for 5, and I don't argue. I think it's a fair price.

This is actually a pretty common scene in China. Old men taking their birds out for a walk. This guy had no problem with me taking a picture of his bird, but he quickly moved it away from in front of him when he saw my camera. He set it up on a ledge in the bus so that I could get a good shot. But he stayed out of the picture. When he set it on the ledge, there was a woman sitting in the seat behind. She immediately fled. Country folks are generally a little shy about pictures.

Came to town today to pick up come souvenirs for the wait staff at the coffee bar in Wudaokou. A couple of the waitresses called me the other night wondering why I hadn't been in for awhile. Feel kinda bad about it--I guess I forgot to mention that I was going to be out of town for a few weeks. Beihai has a nice coffee bar, but it's a little expensive. Not by American standards--no, definitely not. But I live in China on a Chinese income. The coffee bars in the Upper West side where I live are study bars that cater to students. For a bookaholic like me, they are much better. The coffee is not expensive, and they have lots of reading lamps.

Saturday I head back to Beijing. My three weeks here are almost over. The weather here is nice right now, but the warm humid climate is not my favorite. I tend to prefer cool and dry. Funny, you know, how everyone is different. The natives here tell me all the time that their air is better than Beijing. That part is true, on the average. But last night, as I was walking from one building to the other, a student made the point that it is easier to see the stars in Beihai, because Beijing is so polluted. I told her that I had been her for over two weeks, and this was the first night I had been able to see the stars. It's cloudy here a lot. Beijing does have a pollution problem, but during most of the year, the climate is dry, so there are more sunny days than there would be here. Anyway, we all have our preferences. In Beijing, I hang the clothes out on the back porch, and two hours later they are dry. Here I hang them out for two days and they are still damp. Frustrating. But when the weather is clear, Beihai does have nice evenings. That much I will say.

With Snow and Fly on the pier by the sea.
Sunday morning, I took the bus into town for church. After church, a young middle school student came up to me and started talking. She had her classmate with her, and we walked together toward the town square. They are students at a local middle school, which apparently has a boarding school component. The term middle school in China can be confusing, because the term "middle" denotes an intermediate between elementary school and university. In America, the term "middle school" denotes a program bridging elementary with high school. So the term "middle school" denotes a broader range in the Chinese education system. So junior middle school would equate roughly to junior high school or middle school in the US. Middle school would generally equate to high school in the States.

Snow is 18 years old, so I am assuming she would be in the upper middle school, although she told me that she has two years left at this school, so perhaps there was some problem transitioning from her village elementary school. Wouldn't surprise me. Elementary education in the villages can be quite limited.

For all the talk about China's current prosperity, this is still very much a peasant nation. Eight hundred million people in this country live on a dollar a day or less. So one thing China has an abundance of is warm hearted farm kids. They don't all speak English as well as Snow, though. But they do speak Mandarin. With the adults, there are no guarantees. Many of them are pretty much limited to their local village dialects. I should clarify this, though, because the various local dialects in China are Chinese dialects. So the speakers of these various dialects would be able to read the same newspapers (assuming they could read), but they would not understand each other. But if you can manage Putonghua (Mandarin), you can communicate with the young people.

I took Snow and Fly to McDonald's and bought them each a strawberry sundae. Neither of them had ever had a sundae at McDonald's. Snow ate hers with no difficulty, but Fly had trouble getting his down. He said he was full, but I rather think it might have been a bit of a shock to his system. Probably ten times sweeter than anything he had eaten before.

Labels: Beihai

Easter. Woke up this morning wondering what kind of day it was going to be. I put on some music and while I was getting dressed, the song that happened to be playing caught my attention: Up from the Grave He Arose! I know, it could have been any other song, but I have nearly 80 songs in that play list, and it is configured to select songs at random, so, well, you know, I just think God wanted me to hear that song. It was an instrumental, but that's OK, because I know the words. But when you think about it, that really is the message of Easter, isn't it? The cares of life so quickly occupy our attention, and it is so easy to get distracted. And sometimes the news of the day leaves one feeling none too optimistic about the world. But Christ arose, and God has put all things under His feet (Ephesians 1:22).

I was late getting to the church, because it's a little difficult to make the connection coming in from the countryside where the college is located. But the kind people there still managed to find a seat for me toward the front. I sat down, and the choir stood up. Can you guess what song they sang? Here it is:

Low in the grave He lay, Jesus my Savior,
Waiting the coming day, Jesus my Lord!

Refrain

Up from the grave He arose,
With a mighty triumph o’er His foes,
He arose a Victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever, with His saints to reign.
He arose! He arose!
Hallelujah! Christ arose!

Vainly they watch His bed, Jesus my Savior;
Vainly they seal the dead, Jesus my Lord!

Refrain

Death cannot keep its Prey, Jesus my Savior;
He tore the bars away, Jesus my Lord!

Refrain

Back in Beihai. Flew in last night from Beijing. Don't tell anyone, but I accidentally stole the safety instructions from the Airbuss 320 when we changed planes in Changsha. It somehow got stuck between the pages of the International Herald Tribune that I had stuffed in the chair pocket and grabbed quickly as I was leaving. I don't feel to bad, though. Last year, someone from the airline stole my paper. It was one of those deals where we didn't actually change planes--we just landed in Changsha to drop off and pick up passengers. I had gotten off the plane for a few minutes, and when I got back, my paper was gone. Some over-zealous clean freak had thrown it away.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, except that when I got to Beihai, I forgot to pick up my checked baggage. It was kinda embarrassing, because it is quite a drive from the airport out to the college, and I didn't discover I had left it until we were carrying my stuff into my apartment. The guy who picked me up was very cheerful about it. He immediately took me back to the airport, which, unfortunately, was closed by that time. So, we had to go out there this morning and get it. Disgusting. If I added up all the time I have wasted in my life going back to get something that I have forgotten the first time...I don't even want to think about it.

In other news, I started a podcast. The first program features some friendly folks from the English Corner discussing the question, "What do Chinese people believe?"

For those of you who may not be too familiar with podcasting, there are three ways to deal with podcasts:

1. You can listen online directly.

2. You can download the .mp3 file to your hard drive.

3. You can install free podcasting software which will manage the download(s) for you.

If you have a fast internet connection, and don't want to store the files, the first option might be best for you. If you don't have a very good connection, or you want to transfer the .mp3 to an Ipod or .mp3 player, you could chose the second option. If you listen to a number of podcasts (as I do), you may want to consider the third option, because you don't have to go to the web site for each podcast and download the file. Your podcasting software will visit the web sites for the podcasts you have subscribed to, check for the latest program for each podcast, and download it automatically.

Labels: Christianity, Confucius, Religion