Rest in Peace
When I was in high school, our kindly headmaster used to speak often of our 'community'; that was, the students, faculty, staff, and others for whom our school was a daily part of life.
My friends and I used to cynically poke fun at him for saying it; at that point in our lives we yearned to break free and make our own mark; not be bound by any community, real or imagined.
Yet through the last week in Kunming I've been twice reminded that while living abroad the concept of a community is real and vital indeed.
Earlier this week I learned that Jason Stefanuik, or 'Jay Stef' as he billed himself, was killed last month in an auto accident in Philadelphia. He was 33.
I knew Jay only slightly, but memorably. Long ago, Jay hired me to interview Kunming's beloved punk band Smegmariot for a now-defunct website he had launched called netkunming.net. The interview was one of the first pieces I ever wrote for anyone and I can still remember the satisfaction I felt seeing my name on Jay's site.
Netkunming.net also included a section called 'Out in Kunming', in which Jay- who was openly gay- and others provided content detailing gay life in China. I remember thinking that it was extraordinary at the time, and I still do.
Jay was so soft-spoken you often had to lean in close to hear what he had to say. I'll remember him as a kind soul, one who left us all far too soon.
While we were still mourning Jay more shocking news arrived yesterday. Arun Veembeer, another long-term resident of Kunming, was killed after a fall while hiking in Dali. A native of India, Arun was 28- exactly my age.
Arun worked for the Hump Group, a company named after the 'hump' in the Himalayas so integral to supplying Allied and Chinese troops during World War II. From reading his obituary I learned that Arun himself had traveled along the Stilwell Road, a remarkable feat considering the topographical and political challenges that lay therein.
What I will remember most about Arun is his sense of humor- at least once every time I saw him he would say something so original and funny that I'd collapse into laughter. His dexterity with the English language stood out; it is no surprise to me that he was a writer.
Both Jay and Arun were among the broad tapestry of people who had chosen, for one reason or another, to base themselves in this sleepy regional capital of southwest China. I didn't know them well enough to say, but I would bet that when the two of them were in high school- schools on opposite sides of the globe- they could never have imagined that they'd have ended up spending a chunk of their lives 'south of the clouds'.
And yet while their time with us was brief, they touched many lives- many more than I'm sure even they could have even imagined.
Rest in peace.
Here I Am, and There I Go
Apologies for the hiatus- for this reason or that I've neglected this blog, though not for lack of ideas swirling around in the head.
First, though, on a personal note: I will be flying back to the US tomorrow morning to attend a friend's wedding at Lake Arrowhead, California, thanks to the generosity of my folks who have paid for the ticket. This visit will be the shortest I've ever undertaken at just a week, and it'll also be the least amount of time I've spent in China between visits home at just over six weeks.
Xinjiang and Twitter
I've long been skeptical about the role of Twitter in fomenting political change. Skeptical until this Xinjiang uprising, that is.
Before the Chinese government blocked the service midday Monday, I read two eyewitness reports, saw several photographs, and read several articles about what had happened. Keep in mind that I follow only about 100 people. The amount of information that I received gave me a more comprehensive picture of what is happening in Xinjiang than any one newspaper article possibly could.
Will anything change in Xinjiang? My guess is no. The Chinese government is masterful in blaming all minority uprising on evil elements from abroad, maintaining with cynical consistency that the vast majority of Uighurs are truly happy with Chinese dominance and only a few 'rotten apples' ruin it for everyone else.
Yet access to so much information, at the very least, improves everyone's bullshit detector.
Back in China
Twenty days is a perfect amount of time to spend on a vacation home from China. The first five are used up fighting jet lag and being spoiled by friends and family who haven't seen you in ages. The last three are devoted to shopping, packing, and squeezing in last-minute visits with people. That leaves just enough time in the middle to enjoy yourself thoroughly.
Any less time is too much of a whirlwind; any more, you start to feel a sense of routine creep back into your life, a disconcerting feeling of transition interrupting the pleasant mode of vacation.
My twenty days were nice. I caught a baseball game with my dad, my first live game since 2006. I watched or listened to several others. I ate all the wonderful food I love from back home and then some. I caught up with people who are important to me. I stocked up on clothes and coffee and books. I made an obligatory drive down the coast to LA, and later spent a couple of days showing my Australian friend, whom I know from Kunming, around San Francisco.
San Francisco is a treasure. While waiting for a friend, I spent a half-hour driving aimlessly throughout the city, making mental notes of what I saw at each red light I stopped at. I had forgotten the city's great diversity; how neighborhoods of different character and appearance manage to blend seamlessly together, how on a clear day every hilltop has a breathtaking view, and the local coffee shops that straddle corners are beautiful.
As always, a place is only as good as the people who inhabit it. When leaving home for full-time residence in a place like China, maintaining friendships becomes difficult; people's lives change and evolve and often there's little opportunity to take stock in them.
With my friends, though, our reunions betray little evidence that we live thousands of miles apart. Everything falls into place, as if we exist in a Narnia-like fantasy world in which the main events of our lives exist behind a wardrobe.
Fortunately, leaving is made easy by the existence of a life here in Kunming, full of friends and work and fun. Walking around Kunming last night, fighting jet lag but saying hello to familiar faces, reinforces how lucky I feel to have a rich, fulfilling life on two continents.
The Dali Blues
I spent the weekend attending the Dali Music Festival, an event co-sponsored by a local guesthouse business supposedly interested in purchasing and developing land in the Dali old city. Several of my favorite Kunming bands, as well as a couple of acts I hadn't seen before, played in front of an old temple on Friday and Saturday night.
The promotion couldn't have been better; for a foreigner, that is. The organizers, wishing to attract foreigners to their event, offered the first 100 applicants free transportation and accommodation in the old city. Chinese people weren't necessarily excluded from this event, but the fact that the promotion was publicized entirely in English acted as a limiting factor.
Meanwhile, back in Kunming, a new disco has launched a promotion in which foreigners can literally drink as much as they want for free as long as they sit in the front row. The idea behind this scheme, whether or not is works, is that the mere presence of foreigners will attract more Chinese people.
Quite a few people I've spoken to in Kunming are uneasy with this sort of "affirmative action", if you will. A long-term resident married to a local Chinese woman has vowed to boycott the Kunming venue, citing discrimination. This is a sensitive topic and I can certainly see his point.
But discrimination does exist elsewhere. A beautiful, young woman has a far better chance of being admitted into a choice club in New York and London than does a middle-aged single man. Celebrities, to my knowledge, are often paid large sums of money just to show up places. Private nightclub owners should have some say in controlling which clientele frequent their establishments.
The easier way to handle these issues, I think, is letting the market decide. A far amount of foreigners I know in Kunming don't want, necessarily, to associate with the sort of atmosphere that emerges when foreigners are given free alcohol.
Anyway, Dali was fun. Lots of sunshine, cafe lounging, and nice walks in the countryside. It's easy to see how people find it so...difficult...to leave.
Lil Update
Apologies for the recent sucky blogging, or rather non-existent blogging. I do have a very good excuse, though. Last Saturday I fell off my bicycle while going downhill on a slippery mountain and injured my right arm and hand to an extent that typing became physically impossible.
After four days the injury hasn't healed completely, but I can happily report that most functions are back to normal. Still can't button up a shirt all the way, though.
Less sporadic blogging to resume
Fame and Fortune
It isn't often that flipping through the pages of a week-old China Daily provides a moment of delight. But it was so, when notified by a friend, I found that in a narrow column called "Your Say", snippets from this Lost Laowai post I wrote about a month ago were used.
Of course, being lumped in with the splittist Dalai clique would be more exciting, but I'll take mention by the state-run media any time. Even if they only use my first name. To protect anonymity, of course.
The Birthday Dinner
On Monday, my friend and I (who share a birthday) invited about 20 people to a Tibetan restaurant in Kunming for our birthday dinner. Neither of us had been before, but the place had been recommended by a couple of good friends and we thought we'd try something different.
The deal at the restaurant included both food and a "performance", which we imagined would be a song and dance routine that would last less than an hour.
Soon after arriving, the performance started. Groups of "Tibetans", many of whom I suspected were actually Han Chinese, emerged wearing traditional Tibetan costumes. One man wore a fur coat so thick that I'm sure a PETA member would have thrown paint on him had one been present.
Some of the performances were nice- I liked the percussion and dancing. The singers belted out "traditional" songs at such a high volume and register that I was surprised the neighborhood stray dogs didn't storm the restaurant in unison. Conversation became reduced to people leaning next to each other and shouting. I started sweating from the noise, which I didn't believe was physically possible before.
After about two hours of straight high-volume performance, our beleaguered guests began straggling out of the restaurant. I thought about complaining about the music being too loud, but the thought that I had reached an age where high volumes bothered me was too depressing to contemplate.
Finally, we agreed to move on to a little bar near the restaurant. The twenty or so performers subsequently stopped, and while we moved outside I saw a few of them in their street clothes. All of them were gracious and kind, wishing my friend and I a happy birthday.
The event, I thought, was pure China- dinner theater at maximum volume, audience participation, abundant food, and good humor throughout. I do believe everyone left in high spirits, which is the most a birthday boy can ask for.
28 Things I’ve Learned
Well, in celebration of his 28th birthday, your humble blogger shall delve in a moment of self-indulgence. Because I can.
1. All the little things people nag you about; flossing, doing the dishes, putting the cheese back in a plastic bag; are actually good advice.
2. Travel is good for the soul.
3. I don't buy it when people complain about not having enough time. Everyone has the same number of hours- the challenge is in allocating them properly.
4. When studying Chinese, do not neglect characters, tones, or stroke order. Avoid learning them at your peril.
5. There are few more pleasant activities in life than listening to a baseball game on the radio on a long, hot summer's day.
6. The comment sections on 95% of blogs are almost never worth reading (mine is an exception)
7. If you ever meet a journalist who talks your ear off, doesn't ask you any questions, and doesn't listen to your conversation; he isn't good at his job.
8. Losing your temper is almost always counterproductive.
9. Buying cheap luggage is a serious mistake; I once had a lousy suitcase in Italy that I had to duct tape to such an extent that it looked like a cheap cliche. Another time, a lousy backpack I owned split open and my toiletries all fell out- there's probably still five-year old toothpaste and deodorant at the Istanbul airport.
10. Most Luddites are just being lazy, stubborn, or both.
11. To love your country is to be able to recognize its shortcomings and flaws. Maybe that's true of loving anyone and anything.
12. There really is no one like Bob Dylan. Even his albums that are more than forty years old sound fresh and new and interesting. "Tangled Up in Blue" is one of the best songs written about a relationship, ever.
13. China is strange, maddening, but absolutely wonderful.
14. Even if your a carnivore, as I am, it's good to eat vegetarian meals sometimes.
15. When the revolution comes, the Golden State Warriors will finally be well managed.
16. California is governed by a bodybuilder turned actor, is completely dysfunctional, undertaxed, overly violent, and prone to populist madness- but I still think it's the best place on earth.
17. Un giorno senza vino e un giorno senza il sole
18. Long-distance cycling: a sport for the gods. Especially in Yunnan.
19. Despite all the hand-wringing you read in the newspapers, Barack Obama is already a far, far better president than George W. Bush ever was.
20. Most of the critical decisions I've made in my life are made instantaneously, such as the decision to draft Josh Hamilton in the first round of this year's fantasy baseball draft.
21. People often confuse complexity and difficulty. Raymond Carver's short stories are all simple, straightforward, and short. But try, just try, to write one like his. It's hard!
22. Atheism has its detractors, but it's the only thing that's ever made sense to me.
23. Reading The Economist makes you smart.
24. To put into context how good the Beatles were, they were responsible for over 30 songs that each would have made the careers of just about anyone else. And these songs were put together in six years by four men well under 30.
25. I was born and raised in North America and have now lived in Asia for nearly five years. Both are wonderful, but I think I was meant to be European.
26. Stupid ways to blow a lot of money: first class-air tickets, gambling, the lottery, smoking cigarettes.
27. There's a recession on, but I still believe that now is the best time to be alive in the history of the world. Optimism lives on.
28. A brisk walk and a cup of tea improve any bad mood. And bicycling, by god, is the best thing to do for yourself at practically any time. Except when drunk, that is.
Dog Days
Quite a lot of people in my bulding have dogs, and very few of them bother keeping their dogs on a leash. I love dogs, but this concerns me.
First, sometime last year a small dog attempted to bite me on the street, missing by a milimeter or so.
Second, a big dog the other day jumped me in the elevator, while his owner struggled feebly to retain him.
Normally, I'd be a good sport about this, but having read this report (via China Rises) about the explosion of rabies in China, I'm in a less understanding mood.
Also, I don't really see why owners don't see the benefit in leashing their dogs. From personal observation it seems that people with dogs here spend a disproportionate amount of time running after and yelling at the poor beasts.
Maybe it's just me and the prevalence of leashes in China is no greater or less than anywhere else. Has anyone else noticed this phenomenon?