Big in China

When I last communicated I reported that Nancy and I had been interviewed for Chinese TV twice. Once together and once Nancy by herself. Naturally the footage containing my ugly mug hit the cutting room floor. Nancy’s solo interview, however, was actually broadcast on TV along with two other interviews of camellia enthusiasts; our buddy Steve from England and an individual we have not yet met from Switzerland. Yesterdays joke is today’s reality – Nancy is big in China. We did not actually see the footage ourselves but Steve did not feel well last night, thus did not attend the performance that we were at, and so caught the show. (We were at a song and dance show based on the history and legends of the Yi people, this area’s first inhabitants).

Due to the constant activity I have not had the luxury of time to sit at the computer and tap out some blog entries so, with apologies, what follows will be somewhat random and not strictly linear.

Big news for my fellow t’ai chi enthusiasts, I finally got to practice t’ai chi with some Chinese practitioners. This morning we were taken early to a large (with a capital L) camellia garden. As we were walking to the entrance Nancy spotted some folk doing t’ai chi in a good sized paved area to the right of the garden entrance. I told Nancy I would catch up later and, with my new buddy “Jason” (one of the volunteer student guides who seems to like us and has attached himself to us), I walked over. I stood discreetly in the corner (as discrete as one can be when you are the only Caucasian face in a crowd of Chinese) and watched them practice. When they stopped I went to a far corner and began doing my form. Turns out, however, they were not done. The instructor started the music (yes, dear purists they did it to music) and started again. Their form is short and took less time than mine so they finished before I did. When I was done they approached me and asked me, through Jason, if I would like to join them. I certainly would! So the music was started again and I “monkey seed, monkey dood” my way along. Afterwards they crowded around and, through Jason, asked questions about what style I practiced and such, just like any group in the States would do. At that point I noticed that only the leader/teacher was male and that the others were all females from middle aged to elderly. After the chat when I was walking back to the park entrance I passed another group doing a different style of t’ai chi. This group was also predominantly female. I took lots of photos of both groups and Jason took photos of me practicing with the first group so they will get posted when I am home again.

Now that the convention is in full swing our bus convoy numbers at least 17 and everywhere we go we are preceded by not one but two police cars with red bubbles flashing. Side streets are blocked by uniformed police and curious crowds watch us roll by, some smiling and waving. Our most memorable journey to date was a long drive up an incredibly twisty mountain road to a Taoist monastery which features an ancient Camilla tree in the front courtyard. The road climbing the side of the mountain was so narrow and twisty that on occasion the buses would have to try once, back up and try again to negotiate the curves. With 17 buses this took some time as you can imagine. When we arrived the locals, dressed in traditional garb, staged a recreation of a traditional welcoming ceremony which included the beheading of a live chicken. Since a large crowd was gathered some of us, those with no burning desire to watch a chicken take it in the neck (as it were) hung back. The chicken put up quite a fuss so we discussed its attitude, awareness and whether or not it was a virgin. Not the most reverent group.

Here is a smooth segue from the subject of chickens to the subject of food. Having been a fan of Chinese food (as found Stateside) all my life I have been shocked and dismayed to discover that the food here, well . . . sucks. At first my attitude as the intrepid adventurer had me trying everything. Now there are a large number of dishes I simply pass by. The greasiest, fattiest portions of the animal seem to be preferred. Seasoning is mostly non-existent or would do the spiciest Mexican restaurant in California proud. Wine, when it is served, is thin and weak. The beer is served warm and tastes as though they had taken Bud or Miller then cut it fifty-fifty with water. Needless to say we are not drinking much.

On a cheerier alcohol note our restaurant last night was located in the same shopping village which we had visited two days earlier where I had stumbled upon the wine shop. After dinner was another performance of ancient dancing which we skipped and, accompanied by one of our new friends from Britain and world’s best guide Jason, we returned to the wine shop. The California wine he had wanted our opinion on was gone but we chose an Italian Sangiovase-Merlot blend that was a C+ but tasted pretty darn good after a week of deprivation.

There were no formal activities this afternoon so Nancy boarded the shopping bus with some of her new girlfriends while I, accompanied by Jason, wandered around taking photos and gawking (not necessarily in that order). I let Jason lead the way since he knew the area. We strolled through a park that ran along the river for several blocks. One of the things that is overwhelming here sometimes is the sheer mass of humanity. We walked for several blocks passing group after group of card players, musicians, kite flyers, readers and just plain lounging in the sun-ers. Jason explained that most of these folk were retired seniors who preferred to be outdoors in the mild, sunny weather. There were also a few mothers with small children and one group of teenagers on the lone basketball court engaged in an enthusiastic pickup game. Then we wandered into a more commercial area arranged by merchandise. The animal area with puppies, birds and fish (still no cats). The live plant area. The food court (but totally unlike the image I realize that may create in your mind). The used book and magazine booths. There were also these odd booths where small children used fishing pools attempting to catch plastic fish floating in a kiddie swimming pool. As they were crowded I guess this is quite popular.

Enough for now. The bed is calling me.