A Touch of Beijing in the South/Northern Heat

It's amazing what happens when you go out and meet people.

Tonight, instead of sleeping like a good boy, I decided to go to the sauna, and I met this really interesting dude from the capitol city. He was the most intelligent Chinese speaking man I've ever met (meaning, he can't speak English), but he was the first every Chinese man to bring up any topics that really affect gay men, including HIV, the culture here, the venues, the differences between Western and CHinese men--all without giving me his name or his QQ.

What's the best part?

Homeboy is from my city of love--Beijing.

Oh, his Chinese was so standard, and everything sounded so crisp and clean and beautiful! I haven't heard such fantastic Chinese in months! Also, if you've heard the Beijing accent, you know it can be sexy as all hell~! It's why I even consider Chinese men sexy, 'cause I know when worse comes to worse, they will sound like men and not like snakes.

He had a swagger too, with his 33 year old, military hair cut havin', black mafia coat wearin', lip curlin' sexy ass...

Ok, I really need to take my ass home! I've been in this country too damn long--if I keep meeting Beijing men while I'm here (there's still the airport later on), I might just keep my black ass here in this yellow oasis...

Just kidding!

Finally

I'm going home.

I've come and left places enough times at this point not to get emotional. I see the facts at a time like this.

I'm going home.

I still have things to print, mail, cancel, and buy. I still have to have a few warm and fuzzy moments. I have to breathe in the air a few more times (I can't avoid that one), and I have to decide how I'm going to spend my last night (either at a club, asleep, or with the boyz). Either way,

I'm going home.

Going home to some significant changes, and to some faces that have aged drastically in the time I've been away. But at least I can apply my love balm when I get there.

I'm fucking going home....

Wow.

Boom!

Phebe and I were coming back from Ocean College. It had been a hectic day where we spent most of our time getting things ready to turn in for the last time. Tired, groggy, cranky--we did the job of 7 people for a bitch who talks about as much smack as I do.

We were in the taxi on the way way. We told the driver we wanted to go to the West Gate of the school (西门）, and he replied "西门儿，是吗？"

Hold the phone??　 This dude is from the North.

Now, Phebe and I have both studied in Beijing, and we have both gotten accustomed to the way they talk, which is like a bunch of pirates. Southern China : Snakes :: Northern China : Pirates. It's as simple as that, and most people have an affinity towards one or the other. We like the North (and so should you!).

So, homeboy taxi driver is CLOWNIN' the accent down here, and he tells us how we're all standard-speaking and correct and we're just laughing and carrying on--it's like hearing a relative or someone you're close to on the phone after a long absense...

EEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR~! SCRAP!

It finally happened. We got in an accident in a Chinese taxi.

Anyone who has ridden in a Chinese taxi knows how insane it is--gear shifting, ducking in and out of lanes that aren't respected, speeding up and slowing down, going down the wrong side--asbolute craziness! However, I had NEVER seen an accident happen, just the aftermath, so I was fooled into believing that if you buckle up, trust the driver, and text instead of looking at the road you'll be ok.

I was wrong.

I looked at Phebe. She looked at me. I asked if she was all right. She had banged her knee. I thanked the Lord.

Then we laughed.

(Funny thing--on the way to the school to drop off the materials, I had talked about the accident I saw the night before, and Phebe mentioned the one we saw in Quanzhou that was pretty bad. Then we said--"Well, we'll never get in one!" Lies~!)

We didn't have to pay for the taxi.

The Longest Day

But one of the best I've ever had in China. It reminds me of what they say, "Give someone his flowers when he is alive." People have been super sweet to me, and although they are usually, I think because I'm leaving, I feel kindness on a more deeper level than I would when I caught up in the hustle and grind of this existence. My soul is coming to a rest, and with the weekend no longer "next weekend," a peace with this place and my time here has overcome me. While there is QUITE A BIT left for me to do, I feel like I can take it all in stride since it's only a small price to pay when it's all said and done.

Today, Phebe and I had the chance to hang out with our class one last time. For the majority of the semester, we along with Grace, Megan, Luke, Jon, Claire, Brittany, and Paul have taken turns teaching a class at the 厦门海洋职业技术学院 (Xiamen Institute of Oceanography) on "Intermediate Business English." Since I've taken a course called "Intermediate Business Chinese," the idea wasn't such a strange concept. In teaching about every Monday, I've had the joy of meeting a group of over 40 kind-hearted, sweet, intelligent, eager, and talented 18-19 years olds who have never ceased to amaze me in their dedication to English and their willingness to assume us foreigners as not only teachers but friends. While grading papers is a pain in the hindquarters, and dealing with the bureaucracy at the school is not the best things, I've reaffirmed my belief that teaching, in its many varieties and forms, is something that I really enjoy, not just here but also with my experience in BOLD. Of course, in a class so large, some students stand out more than others (Clion, Christina, Daniel, Max, Patrick, Kenny, Summer), I felt a deep heart connection to them since they symbolize me, essentially, and what I see in them I can see in myself. I believe in them, and I wish them well. Today, the class got together and treated us not only to karaoke (which can even turn into a small disco if you know the right buttons to push), but also presented us with gifts. Knowing how much money these students have in comparison to me, it's humbling to know they care about us so much. I'll miss them, but now that I finally have QQ (the Chinese IM), I'm sure we'll not be so disconnected from each other.

And then the love kept pouring out. After KTV, I was invited to dinner at Alex and Tobias' place. Alex prepared sumptuous Indian fare, and I had an opportunity to hang out with them along with several new Chinese men I didn't have the pleasure of meeting until now. Sitting with them, smoking and sipping wine and enjoying each other's company, was a great experience. I hope that in the future, I'll have a chance to come to Xiamen again and relieve such a moment, but as the future is not promised to us, I'll cherish the memories I have for today. Once again, sharing those hugs and confronting the end of something had me displaying my Grandmother's trait of being a "crybaby." But, anything that's like my Grandma I'm proud to be.

With all that's happened this semester, my eyes have faced the future for the majority of my time here, yet moments like these, when I get a chance to connect with humanity and not take it for granted, having experienced the lonliness of a communication gap in a very real way, allow me a glimpse into the point of this existence. Why did I meet all of these people, and what can I learn from them, and how can I be a more mature and developed individual from these encounters. Moments like force me to accept that all the pain I've been through this semester because of my Grandma's passing are part of a greater scheme where I don't need to understand in order to derive all the lessons and meanings God wants me to see. I've been really low here, and I've been really high, and the fact that I can realize and appreciate all these emotions is a testimony I'll be happy to share with anyone who needs one. God has been so good to me because HE brought me over (the ocean), and HE brought me through (the darkness) (this is a quote from a song--name that tune!). I'm amazed that the words coming out of me, in this moment, are happy and hopeful, especially when there was a time when I believed that such an emotion would never come again.

So...yes. I'll see you soon. I'm thinking of printing and editing this blog so I can let some more sensitive members of my family see what I've been up to while I've been here. I think I might be making some people proud.

God sees it all--snapshot

So, last night I went by myself to hit up 新浓清酒吧，my favorite hangout 'cause it's full of Chinese men of all types who are drunk as hell and looking for a chance to talk to anyone who will listen. I've done most of my research there for my projects, but I've also went because when I go, I rarely have to pay for beer. Nice...

Last night I went with one of the bartenders back to his place where we continued the conversation we started earlier that night. From 河北 (Hebei) province, he has that northern swagger I'm such a fan of. We talked about a variety of subjects, such as how Xiamen is not as open to gay men as other cities, how some people still think being gay is some sort of sickness, how he knew he was gay when he was younger but had to hide it--he just poured out information along with pouring alcohol into my shot glass. Nice...

When I left his place about 3:00 (I was only there for a short while), I hailed a taxi to head back to campus. It was the first time I had come back from the bar and had a taxi cab driver who didn't want to talk my head off while I'm intoxicated. For instance, last week I came back and had a particularly chatty taxi driver:

[in Chinese, of course]
Him: So, you're from Africa, aren't you?
Me: Actually, I'm American.
H: Wow, you can speak Chinese so-so (usually, they say I speak it very well, and then I go into how I don't think it's good enough, etc).
M: Thank you.
H: So, you understand what I'm saying.
M: Yes, I do.
H: What am I saying right now?
M: ...You're asking me if I understand you or not...
H: So, you understand about 80% of what I'm saying, I suspect.
M: Right now, I understand everything you're saying.
H: Yep, about 80% of what I'm saying. Do you understand?
M: ...Yes. I understand.

The night after that, it was a little better, but still bad:
New Guy: Wow, you're an African.
Me: Actually, I'm an American.
NG: Whoa, you speak Chinese!
Me: I can speak it a little bit.
NG: What's it...what's it...oh! Obama! He's black, isn't it?
M: Well, he's really half black and half white.
NG: He will do lots of good things for people who aren't white, right?
M: I think he'll do good things for everyone. Even if he were white, I'd still choose him.
NG: You know, you black people have healthy bodies.
M: Um...?
NG: I saw some sports the other day, and really, you all have great bodies.
M: Well, you can see me smoking a cigarette in front of you, so obviously my health is not that good, so it can't be true, can it?
NG: [blah blah muthafuckin' blah].

Last night, however, I had a great driver because he started his conversation off with:
Last Night Driver: So, what country are you from? America?
M: Wow...um, yes! You guessed right!
LND: Are you a student at Xiamen University (I had given him my destination)?
M: Yes, but only for a semester.
LND: Ok.
LND + M: [Silence].

A truly rare and beautiful occurance. He also had an accent that I understood, not this damn Southern snake-talk that, after being here for so long, I still have some trouble understanding (the majority of the teachers at UNC are from the north, and standard Chinese originates from the north. Beijing was a breeze in comparison to Xiamen).

But the greatest part of last night's ride was the radio. As we were coming back, one of the few Chinese songs I know came on: Teresa Teng's "Small Town Story 小城故事". It's one of the old little diddies that you'd have to ask your Chinese parents about, but she is arguably the most popular Asian artist to ever come out from Taiwan. When the song came on, the taxi triver and I did a duet and had a lovely time together as he pulled into the Bai-cheng Gate of my school. It is one of my "you can only experience this shit in China" moments, and although it's a small thing, it really makes me happy to sing along with the taxi driver, after a nice evening with a bartender, experiencing this country in small ways that I can't duplicate anywhere else.

I'll be back in the states in exactly a week. I'm so happy ^_^. I'll get to meet Diadra there, and what's funny about that is that I've seen Diadra more times in the last 3 months that most of my friends. I think are paths are aligned in the stars or some shit.

And, for your listening pleasure: "Small Town Story"! There are lyrics at the bottom the screen Karaoke style--sing along if you can:



[The song is about this little time where things are happy, beautiful, and quaint. It then goes on about how you can come on down, chat a spell, and meet some nice folks in this "not so bad" place. Also, invite your friends to come with you--the little town loves having guest. Basically, it's a song about Roxboro, North Carolina].

Just so I remember...

How much I love this song, this group, and all of Asia.

Thank You Text

This is my first ever thank you text, written to Yong Long (Jerry) for inviting us to celebrate his 20th birthday:

永龙，
你今儿早上起床之后，头疼了没有？
谢谢你请我们参加你的生日，认识你的很棒的亲人和朋友们。我在中国以来就没有机会跟那么好心的人一起聊一聊，吃那么好吃的菜。我希望你这辈子得到你最追求的目标，过得很开心啊!

Maybe my Chinese is getting a little better, or maybe this statement is so chock-full of mistakes, but I'm just too shameless to send just a complicated letter, or I'm just too dense to realize all the errors I made.

Oh well.

Jerry invited us (Claire, Luke, the Brazilian 华侨, Johannas, and I) to celebrate his birthday with him and his friends. While I imagined a little get together in his apartment just off campus, we ended up going to his Aunt and Uncle's house where they had prepared a delicious meal--made in the Chinese way, of course, meaning there were more than 5 courses and lots of Tsingtao to be had by all. I had some food I had never had before, including this seafood dish called "a 2 - uh 3.5" (it was referred to by it's Min-Nan name), and a seafood broth filled it clams and other delights. We enjoyed ourselves immensely, and while I had a LOT of trouble keeping up with the conversation (Luke, the Brazilian, and Johannas raised the speaking curve above me and Claire), I thoroughly enjoyed myself in my little mute corner, and look forward to the pictures that must come from this excursion. After the final courses of oranges, pomellos, and frozen peanuts and edamame, we went out to karaoke where we sang everything from 你要嫁给我 and 死了要爱上 to the Backstreet Boys (I did a great version of "The Call"), Luke and I left after "A Change Gon' Come" to meet up with Wesley and Paul since it was Wesley's last night in the city. We went to busted-ass K.K. and Honey (where the Dance-Techno music was on point...along with their clown on stilts), but because all of us were beyond the level of tipsy, it wasn't so bad.

Afterwards, we went to McDonald's around 3:00am and had a moment of confessions where I learned that my roommate has been quite busy here in Xiamen, and after teasing him a good bit, we shared our multiple hugs with Wesley in the elevator on after we returned to the dorm.

All in all, it was a good evening. I hope our paths cross again.

Right now, I should be writing my final paper, but I'm strongly considering spending the night in another location if I can, but that relies heavily on my stomach which always seems to be on the fritz these days.

Until we meet again, in less than 2 weeks--

"Silver lake"

So, in writing this entry from the 'sauna,' I've come to several conclusions:

Everyone is lonely and wants to be loved, and he will spend his entire life trying to find that love. The fact that there are so many older men in these establishments shows that finding the love one aches for may come to pass. In fact, love might be so elusive that one will spend his old age wondering what he did wrong and pondering just how many opportunities for real love he passed up, and what it would be like not to grow old alone.

This place offers sleeping, and I'm tempted to stay here for an evening. I don't know whether or not that will actually happen, but considering it seems, to a naive young me, like charity work. I wonder if I too will end up like these gentlement, searching for love in the most unlikely and desperate places...or whether or not the idea of being old and alone will help me to search for my own personal happiness a little bit harder. One of my biggest fears, aside from being a failure, is to be old and full of regrets about the life not filled with chances taken.

I've come to China on a whim, and I had to deal with some heavy loses in order to get to this point. While watching the obese man in front of me, nude, through the plastic slats (actually, trying to avoid looking at this grotesquely infantile form), I wonder if I will be like him some day.

Or, maybe not.

i'm a sensitive kinda brutha...

Miso soup--fermented goodness.

Knowing that there's Carmex in Asia brings me a step closer to making this place a home after graduation.

Fried Udon dish at a random Japanese restuarant.

Would you tell me how to get, how to get to Nathan Street?

I'm a sensitive kinda brutha, ladies. Ask about me.
(Try me out. Put me in your mouth.)

Scenes from Shenzhen/Hong Kong...

"The suspense is wild..." - KYLIE X2008

It's great having a sense of accomplishment, especially of the sort that comes from achieving one of your life's goals.

I saw Kylie Minogue in concert. This is amazing because she has NEVER (and probably will never) travel tour the US. Insultingly, she went to South America and totally did a big "F-off!" the States because, well, the poor fools don't know good music when they hear it. What's more, I heard one of my favorite artists in one of my most favorite locations in the world--Hong Kong. And EVEN MORE eXciting was being able to see it with one of my greatest friends in the world, Ms. Diadra of Concord, NC.



The whole thing is almost magical in how it transpired. I was on a random website and out of the corner of my eye I see an advertisement with Kylie front in center. I assumed it was for her tour DVD, but I decided to click on it to get an idea of how much the price was. Turns out that skimming is for morons. It was for her tour, and I must say that it was heavenly inspired that I would be in Asia at this time, so close to two of the locations where she would be performing. I ordered the tickets less than a week before she was to perform, so I got craptastic seats...but the fact that I had seats at all is an amazing thing. Word to your mother.

I had class (a presentation, actually) on Wednesday, so I couldn't leave Xiamen until Thursday. I took the 7:25 flight out, almost missing it because my HAIR GREASE got caught during the security check, but made it to Shenzhen. I landed, and instead of looking for the bus that Diadra told me about (around 10 kuai), I decided that I was too tired, had too much stuff, and would take a taxi instead. I left the airport and was attacked by a portly man who beckoned me to follow him. After asking him if he knew where Diadra's place was (she's pretty famous around these parts--no, j/k. Actually, she lives pretty remote from the city's center), I followed him to a what looked like a bus stop where other people were standing. After asking some questions, I found out the people were taxi-cab drivers who were waiting for their taxi to arrive. It arrived about 7 minutes later, but...it wasn't a taxi. It wasn't a primary color, nor did it have a meter, but it looked like any-old car you'd see on the street. Because China has taught me to be brave, I climbed in. Hence, I present to you fine folks my first experience riding a notorious illegal taxi.

I could have been driven off to some isolated place, robbed, and injured. But, instead I was just dropped off at the wrong school. No biggie.

I met Diadra who has purply-brown hair now at a shorter length, and we napped (we're a bunch of old foogies). Afterwards, we took the K-wu-san-san (K533) to the Shenzhen border, but before crossing we met up with two of her friends who were coincidentally going to the Kylie concert as well--the Surly-Irish-Man Darahm, and the gay-Californian-Taiwanese Nick. And the fun began.

We made it to Hong Kong, and because we were running late, we checked into a hostel where I changed into this banging ensemble (basically, I changed shirts), and we hustled to take the X21 across Hong Kong to the airport, nearto where the Asia World-Arena was located. We sat on the top of the double-decker bus (my first time), and watched the night scenery pass by. We then rode across what used to be the longest suspension bridge in Asia as neon lights and the opportunity to see Kylie Minogue twinkled in the distance. I would have taken my camera, but since I believed erroniously that they would check bags at the entrance, all my Kylie moments are in my head and on Youtube. What a shame.

We arived--the place was packed. We were several minutes late, and fearing that the concert would start soon, we dashed to the box office to pick up our tickets. Everything worked out fine, and Diadra and I took our seats in section U while Nick and Darahm were in R. There was a DJ performing in the area I guess in the place of an opening act, and he played a lot of unknown remixes to some of Kylie's lesser known songs (like, Boombox). A large purple satin curtain was masking the stage, and a lone smoke machine blew like a the little engline that could in an effort to fill up the arena. We were poised and ready for the show to begin.

And although the concert was supposed to start at 8, Kylie rolled her ass in around 8:58.

Oh, but how she began!



She opened with SPEAKERPHONE. I played that song too death, and I think it's the best upbeat song on the album. In the video, notice the the animations that are on the screen. And imagine them 8 billion times bigger. And Kylie's entrance on top of the speakers from the deaths of the stage--priceless. She's a champion!!

I screamed like a bitch for the majority of the concert. And I danced in our section filled with ex-pats over 50 and rhythm-less Hong-Kongers. Diadra had/has a fever (I forgot to make a joke about how one of Kylie's most popular albums is called Fever), so she still had the Kylie spirit.

Some of the highlights of the concerts--
Kylie changed outfits six times, and each one was fabulous (although I think the one that referenced American footballers was a little 马马虎虎, it still wasn't bad). I read somewhere that Jean-Paul Gaultier designed the outfits for the tour, and they did seem to adhere to his style in that they were too long for heavy choreography, yet still modern and captured the essense of the songs and the sets. Coincidently, he also designed costumes for my favorite singer from HK--Leslie Cheung 张国荣 for his last tour before he died. It's amazing how great minds think alike.

The songs list covered all the songs from X, yet she still did all of her major hits, including some really old ones like "Wouldn't Change a Thing," "Better the Devil You Know," and closing the concert with "I Should Be So Lucky" (I believe the motivation for doing so many old hits is due to her audience--mostly British ex-pats. The songs were all hits in England when they were released).

She didn't do anything like "Boombox" (or as Bomi called it, Boom-pah), "Cherry bomb" or any of the R&B songs such as "Almost a Lover" or "After Dark" from Body Language, but she didn't do anything bad...

Except for "Your Disco Needs You." This is the only Kylie Minogue songs I've ever deleted from my computer. Yet, I sang along even to that.

Kylie also sang some covers...surprisingly. She has a whole set devoted to a nautical theme, so she could do "Loveboat"...and, to the most lyrically-tragic and popular song ever:
"Copacabana." I still don't understand why, but Kylie--you betta work it, gurl!

Kylie looked AMAZING, by the way. She was doing splits suspended by a crew of backup dancers (not her best troup...sadly), while wearing 6/7/8/9 inch heels. She was working it out.

I had a semi-religious experience during the concernt. I was so happy during "The One" that I almost starting crying. Well, maybe I did, if you count being misty-eyed as crying. In my defense, she had just showered the arena in gold glitter. Here's a performance from the DVD:



[She sounds a little raggady in this performance, but she sounded SUPERB in HK.]

The whole tour is so popular, it even has a fucking Wikipedia entry!

So, I haven't been this happy since seeing Jill Scott earlier this year. It's good too since I would probably have been sad since my family and friends are all celebrating Thanksgiving in the states. Granted, I would trade Kylie for one more Thanksgiving with my Grandma, but things standing as they are, if I have to bee so far I was from the people I love most, then I'm glad I spent my time in HK, with a gay Taiwanese man, Little Di-Di, dancing the night away to the Princess of Pop.

<3

Ode to 柚子

What exactly are you, my little friend?

Whenever I come to China, I see you, 柚子, and you're a constant comfort when my stomach refuses to take the local food.

Sometimes, I don't have a knife to peal you, but then I use my teeth to break into your thick flesh, tearing you like a savage and claiming you like a possessive lover.

On occasion, when the moon hangs low in the sky, I image it is you, thick with sweetness and heavy with possibilities. I call to you, yet you do not hear me. I motion for you to come; however, I am limited by my mortality and limitations of language. I didn't know your name until just now, and when I first said it, the sounds softly waltzed off my tongue with grace and certainty.

When I cut you, you bleed. When I tickle you, you laugh. When I have 5 块, I can possess you.

In 18 days, I will miss you.

Fierce/魅力的模特儿!

He's going to kill me once he knows these are up.

I'm Worried

Because I don't see what I think I should be seeing. I'm in Xiamen, which is a gorgeous place, but it's lacking something I desperately need:

Reality.

I feel there is a block between me and "China," and I believe most of it is my doing. Once I got here and things started to happen back home (deaths, suicide attempts, lackluster friendships, missing out on key-events, depression,), I kind of tuned out my time here and instead looked forward to the future, to returning, more so to living in this present reality. But, even before all of this "stuff" went down, I realized there were/are aspects of this place, this Xiamen, that I dislike.

For example: the people here have a manner of politeness about them that has a lot of benefits, such as cars stopping for you when you cross the road (and by stopping, I mean going from 70 mph to 69 mph), and even mustering up a little English to say "Excuse me," or something else along those lines. It also leads to one of the most sparkling-clean cities I've ever seen. Yet, when it comes to getting to know the people here, the politeness and the pleasantries come off not as reserve, but as being stand-off-ish. I feel like, trying to forge friendships here with the locals has been difficult, to say the least, because people are wowed by my skin color and my foreigness instead of being wowed by me as a person (like they should ^_^). Also, having better Chinese than I did a year ago, I realize what people around me are saying, and in general it's not complimentary. Sometimes it's an observation--other times its an insult. I'm tired to scaring Chinese folks--I want some reality.

I want to make real friends. Granted, it takes a while to make real friends, and expecting that I'd make them in less than 4 months is ridiculous. However, it did happen--in less time--a year ago in Beijing: 燕子, Katie, Stacy, Diadra, Daegan, Ben, 宋鹏 (criteria is based on who I regularly talk too--there are more people whom I'll talk to again, but at this time...*call me ^_^*). Sometimes, you gel with people so fast that, man, you can't help wanting to stay around each other for the long time. People here in Xiamen, and in the south in general, aren't so willing to let you into their in-group (similar to the Japanese and Koreans), which is not what I found when I was in Beijing. People there saw me as a person, who happened to be black and foreign and funny-sounding, but my humanity was their first observation. In Xiamen, I can't help but to be black.

This realization, of course, greatly influences where I'll look for work in the future. If my other options don't pan out (shout-out to Am-baa!), then I'll be in Beijing. Or even Xiamen again because I already have had a taste of a good gig being here. Definitely not Shenzhen. But, i want to be in a place where people have at least met one foreigner before so I can focus on developing a relationship where race isn't the primary issue.

Or, second-thought...I'd rather be in a place with more excepting people, but not necessarily packed with foreigners. If I wanted that, I'd move to Shanghai and be an English teacher on stay on the club circuit and not learn any Chinese and only eat foreign food in foreign places with foreign friends speaking our devil tongues.

I'm not sure why I'm rambling. I procrastinationg more so than anything else. I need to write two papers in the next two weeks.

Paper one:
The Use of Gay Bars in fostering a Gay Idenity in Xiamen, China

Paper two:
Arg~! "Pirates of a More Traditional-Sort: Chinese Pirates and the Port-side Economy"

Thanksgiving

Diadra and I are saying "fuck you!" to the turkey.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we have plans of our own.

On Thanksgiving Day, November 27th 2008, we will be on our way to see a concert...
In Hong Kong.



By Kylie Minogue.

Why do I love Kylie Minogue so much? Well, she's amazing, a legend, and has set the bar for pop music higher all over the world (except in the US, but to be fair, we have Madonna). This woman is incredible, and the fact that she'll be making a special trip to Asia, specifically to Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong, and Singapore, means that I am destined to see her in concert.

As Jazmin said, "If you don't go, I will kill you."



And Jazmin, of course, will get memorabilia before I get some for myself, as she's the one who took my admiration for Kylie to the next level.

Oh, my God...KYLIE! + Diadra! + Hong Kong! = Heaven

Early November Madness/Chinese boys are hopelessly cute

Very cute boy who works at 东边色 (aka Top-Roof Cafe) named Luo Jun. Since I'm a regular, I asked him would he take a picture with me on my birthday. Keep in mind, we'd never spoken before. He's a sweetheart, though.

Twice over

The chocolate-pudding-ny petite-cake that Megan bought me for my birthday. And, yes, that's a sprig of parsley.

阿龙 being playfully bashful. He's a dude who cuts hair near our school. And he's still jailbait, yet a chain-smoker and text-er.

阿龙 being accidentally sexy. Recognize the hair?

How Big?

Chinese men are mystified by the size of my penis. Of course, they rarely see it, and I've never told them the measurements, yet they assume it's humongous because in the porn they've seen that's included black men, all of them are hung like freakin' donkeys.

Penis size is a private matter; I don't even tell my lovers (buddies) what is my size--I just show them ;-) So, when someone asks me the question, of course I duck it and turn the question around to them: so, how long is yours? They blush, and I giggle, and the topic is usually averted.

I was at the so-called sauna the other day (I swear I'll write about it!), and while there, a particularly portly gentleman decided that, while letting the water moisten his meaty parts, he would bring up pornography on the public computer.

What race were the featured participants in the flick? Why, take a wild guess.

I hate stereotypes. I hate when white folks think I can play basketball, dance very well, have an insanely large penis, and will rape them on the walk home (I'm using a stereotype to show my contempt for stereotypes--genius). I hate it also when Chinese people do it--when they don't see me as human but judge me by some warped idea that's made it over here--but I can't be so mad at them since they really don't know better.

Grr...even supposedly positive stereotypes get on my damn nerves.

After the fat dude started showing the movie, I was so disgusted that I left. Damn the 20kuai (3 dollar and some change) entry fee!

Peace out.

Xiamen--oh, yea!

I spend my days anxiously anticipating when I will return to the states--December 13th, just shy of midnight.

I've been busy the last few days. I have midterms all this week, followed by group projects and papers. I feel like I've made the wrong choice--kids who go to Spain to study get to play an entire semester, but if you come to Asia, you come to work. I guess it's their way of punishing the foreign devils.

I've been out to some of the bars here that cater to a particular sort of clientèle, namely the old man gay bar and the sauna. It's all for research purposes as I'm writing a paper about how gay men socialize in a city that lacks the openness (surprisingly) of the capitol city of Beijing. I've talked to some interesting characters, particularly a man named Wen who's spent the last few years working in Britain and, although originally from here, finds the lifestyle of England more open than here in Xiamen. He attacked me in the bar since, obviously, I'm not Chinese, and introduced me to a cast of characters who I feel will provide good information for my project. I've talked to old married gay men, younger men in search of love, prostitutes, and a very wide assortment of Chinese gay men. I'm sad that it's taken me this long to get into this group of people as I could've written my paper ages ago, and had fun at that.

The story of the sauna deserves an entry of its own. I'll have one in a day or two.

Amber...sorry for the wait.

Take care, and cop Beyonce's album. I have Britney's two weeks early (thanks to lovebscott.com). You're sure to enjoy it.

Cheers--

22

思乡

I always do a birthday post. My livejournal (blocked in China) can attest to this. It's become a personal tradition for me, this looking back at the year and thanking God and all that good stuff.

This year is no different, but dissimilar in so many ways. For instance, I'm not milling around the Triangle, nor am I even in the country. I am China, seeing things I've never seen before and experiencing life in a profound way, with a little too much introspection, fear, and a false sense of enlightenment. Sometimes, I feel like I haven't learned anything at all, and other times it's as though life seems so unimportant that I can't really process why I'm worrying so much.

This is also the first year I haven't received a birthday card with five dollars in it (when she had it) from my Grandma, signed with love and showcasing her gorgeously meticulous penmanship. I started saving birthday cards that people have given me when I was around 14, so I have a few from her at least. I'll cherish them, and maybe someday I can use her as an example of true penmanship online in the future. For a woman who read fairly slow, her perfect penmanship shows that, even though literacy was not a guarantee during her youth, one can take pride in what one produces. I'm realizing more about her, now that she's gone, than when she was alive.

I know that one day I'll stop hurting so much.

With that said, this birthday is bittersweet. I'm away from the people I love most, but I'm so grateful to be alive another year when death could have taken me so many times. I'm grateful to have these experiences, although I'd trade them in a second, and I'm proud that I can do something that no one else in my family has done before.

But right now, sitting in my dorm room, not going out because of yet another stomach ailment, I'm seeing things darkly. This is probably the first time I've ever written a post on my birthday that wasn't filled with jubilation and triumph and all those good feelings. This year is more solemn.

I hope when it's daybreak on my birthday (it's midnight here), I'll have a different attitude, a healed stomach, and more zest than I do right now.

Love you all.

"Disco Round"

I just came back from a night in the bar district with a group of unusuals, and by that I mean the groups of people who usually hang out with one another disappeared and a group of us, who hang out either one on one or not together, went out. It was a lovely experience to see us all bonding in untraditional ways.

First, we went to Honey, then we hit up The Key (a classy name, I know) and listened to a live band play the same tired-ass songs they always play. The I hung out with Jade and Martin (Kentucky) for a hot minute and went with them to K.K....then back to The Key (now filled with whack as foreigners*). After that, some of us went back to K.K....and then back to Honey...and then to K.K. again, deciding finally to finish off the night around 2am when people's dreams were crushed, and my legs were killing me.

*sidenote: Any foreigner who goes abroad instantly becomes cool solely because he or she is novel. If you're typically ugly or untalented or boring or a rapist/psycho, going abroad can lift your level of coolness dramatically. Foreigners who come abroad for the first time think that they have finally come to the promised land, to a place where they really belong, because even strangers will come up to them and tell them how special they are. Foreigners then get a big head and become Supermen and women, devoid of any of the traditional values they once possessed. However, sadly, once they return to their home countries, they realize that their time abroad, which is not their true reality, is gone. They must go back to being dorks. This is especially true for middle-aged portly men (we're not talking about the sexy old dudes--no!), and geeks who don't have the same sense God gave to a lightbulb. I must admit, unfortunately, that I too suffered from this Hero Abroad Syndrome (HAS...been?) when I came back from Beijing last summer--I'm not nearly as great of a Chinese speaker or dancer as people tell me I am, although I'm better than the rest ^_^. Anyway...

So, the monotany of the night serves as an analogy for my life. I do the same things all the time, and even though I try to switch it up, shuffled-up shit is still the same things as dried-up-like-a-raison-in-the-sun shit--shit. I need some variety or I'll find myself in different phases of the same predicament, especially ones that can hold me back from my true potential. All the clubs are the same, and all my preoccupations are the same. So, instead of chasing around a possibility that couldn't possibly have existed, I got my friends to go home with me, and got my black ass in the bed where it belonged.

Tomorrow night, the night before my birthday, I plan to do something I've never done before. With that said, if I die from it, please tell my mom that I love her.

奥巴马：大家的再生

中文练习: for Ben, Daegan, and Diadra. Feel free to correct any errors.

我根本没想到奥巴马总统会获得一个国家的梦想。根据报纸，2008年总统的比赛特别竞争，况且偏见和不够的经历的问题一直令大家不相信他，认为他没有那么较真。2008年我虽有点怀疑的，但希拉里得不到提名之后，我突然发现他是最好的候选人。

我查新闻之后，我骄傲极了。奥巴马总统是独一无二的，甚至于也许大家将来不再考虑候选人的种族，祖先等。所以，每当中国人问我奥巴马的种族重要不重要时，我依然回答：不是他的种族，就是他的能力。

打一个比方说，今天下课之后，有两位记者来我采访，问我如何看美国选举。第一个疑问是跟种族有关系。用很简单的中文说，我告诉他们我的意见：现在美国的折磨很厉害，专门经济以及冷漠的一些。按照规定，从开始美国的总统都是白人。今年的选举表现人民改变不幸的现实是可选性。

总而言之，我对奥巴马挺骄傲的！奥巴马总统很好听。加油！

Obama

Are you serious?

I have never been so proud of my country.

I am beyond words. The joy in my heart, as a young man and as a black man, is beyond words. Even if Obama is not the next Messiah, the fact that he could be elected at all shows that our nation is on the verge of something remarkable in our darkest times ever.

And NC is blue~! First female governor! Dole being "kicked to the curb" (I guess she was the true devil worshiper).

I can't create a coherent thought. I'm just happy.

Grandma wanted Obama to win. She testified in church about it before she passed away. If she were still here, she'd be getting ready for bed after staying up to watch the result.

I give God the praise.

10,000 Spirits (one wig)

彦博 tries on the 假发 and rocks it well.

I recently watched Top Model, Season 3 (Eva's year)...she wanted me to give it to you. See it?

When you ain't got a pumpkin, you make due with what you got.

We're giving it to you hard. See it???

Heehee hee....Wesley is fun!

Halloween

万圣节 (festival of 10,000 spirits) in China is not that different from the US, at least when you're my age. I'm not around elementary school children, so I didn't see them in their classes preparing costumes for an event they really don't understand (they just know it's fun), and while there were decorations up at certain locations, there wasn't a city-wide phenomenon like in the US. All the decorations were at places where foreigners frequent here in Xiamen, and the only so-called Halloween party was an ex-pat fuckfest that I didn't bother to attend.

A friend of mine, a Dutch boy named Wesley, and I went shopping for costumes. We didn't really know where to look, so we went to the largest shopping mall here to try our luck. We rode a taxi to SM广成 where, only about a 2 minute walk from the main entrance, there was a store set up in the middle of the main walkway devoted to Halloween gear. The costumes and paraphernalia there were nothing really impressive, but good enough to fit what I was looking for. There were not any full-fledged costumes, like giant jack-o-lanterns or pirate gear, but most of what they had were masks and assortments--the rest of the outfit you'd have to provide yourself. Wesley and I had a nice time trying on random masks and wigs for the Chinese people who took pictures for us, and we walked away with a bunny costume for Wesley and a blond afro wig for myself. What was running through my mind was, "White people love to wear afro wigs when they want to make a statement because they find our (black folks') type of hair to be a laughing matter. I'll play on that." Of course, no one conceived of that but me. I smiled at the thought as we went out.

Meanwhile, I was having stomach issues that day, so we made a detour by the pharmacy in the adjacent Wal-Mart and, unable to find Pepto-bismal, I bought some Chinese medicine called "正露丸" that stank to high heaven, looked like rat-droppings, and when taken on an empty stomach (like I had) caused my insides to try out for the 2012 All-American Gymnastic Team. The cab ride back was terrible, but after I ate some 啤酒鸭 (beer duck), I felt a lot better. Although the medicine still smells like cabbage and bleach.

Here's a commercial (from Japan):


We (Phebe, Luke, Wesley, and I) went out later on and headed to The Key, a club/bar, to watch the Dutch girls perform a dance to, what else, "Pass the Dutch" (and, to illustrate how our cultures are slightly different, I told them the meaning of "dutch" in the Islands, which they didn't expect). The Key is one of the better dance pubs out of the 6 or so that stand, monstrously large and illuminated, beside each other. Most of the people were in costumes similar to ours--half-assed. Yet, they had a really good cover band that could sing very well in English, and for the entire night they played live music instead of resorting to the same tired-ass, "Get Low", "Please Don't Stop the Music", and other random stuff "apple-bottom jeans! boots wit da furrrrrr (furrrrr!)" that they play in every club here （I would kill to have someone play, say, "Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It)" or "Womanizer" or "Go Girl" or something that's come out in the last 5 months). During the course of the evening, the Dutch did a very good, hoochie-fied performance, I made amends with the Dutch boy who did me wrong (I shamed him very well), met an American gay dude from Kentucky and his half-Mauritian friend, watched my roommate and Wesley make out with chicks on the dance floor at K.K., and had a heated argument with this crazy stalker man from Niger who is 2 seconds away from a good old-fashioned beat-down.

All in all, my best Halloween ever. It's great being an adult.

Pictures will be up as soon as my camera comes correct.

A New Subjectivity

So, I got out of Tsin's class a few hours ago. Since I've been in China, I've taken Chinese language classes, but we also have 2 classes just for us UNC students: Tsin' course of the varying perspectives one can take towards different social issues in China, and the other by a Professor Li from Xiamen University that is kind of a primer for China. Tsin's class is the far more interesting one, not just because it meets 2 times a week, but because it's discussion based and we get to pick the brains of our professor and each other. Some great conclusions are discovered.

Professor was about a "rejuvenating" China and how "a new subjectivity" is trying to be established. In the wake of all these economic changes and the upheaval caused by, say, world wars, korean war, vietnam war, cultural revolution, deng xiao ping, and all that jazz, Chinese people are trying to move into a more modern way of existing. By a modern way, one has to hold this idea next to the "old way," one where relationships are tied to kin, work units, etc, instead of new way where one must become an individual (not tied to all these factions) in order to succeed in the new modern society. The new subjectivity is different from the new individuality because subjectivity includes both being independent along with being able to put oneself into the greater rubric of society, i.e. he must see himself as standing alone while in connection to others. Basically, he asks the himself, "who the fuck am I and where in the hell do I belong?"

I agree with our professor's statement, but the concept seems strange to me. While most people go through an "identity crisis" or sorts, I feel that Americans, while negotiating their identity, never feel as disconnected to their "place" as Chinese people must. For example: as a gay/black/poor man, I tried to figure out who I am in a heterosexual/white/middle class society. However, throughout all my internal conflicts, I knew that where I belonged existed. I knew other people like me where out there, just out of reach, but knowledge of these groups were easily available via television and literature (not yet the Internet--it was the 90s). Chinese people who are looking to define themselves AND to receive acceptance from a group who thinks like them often times might come up empty handed. The sub-cultures of the US are fairly vocal, wealthy enough, and at times have political clout and power. In China, this is not the case. While people are indeed carving out an individual identity, once it is achieved, what can be done with it?

Just a thought. Any ideas?

Authenticity

I have just finished reading one of the greatest books I've ever read: Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. The book takes place during the Biafran War against Nigeria, and discusses how the Igbo, in response to being murdered in the Northern territories, decided to secede and become a sovereign nation. The act is important because it stresses the need of self-determination, resisting prosecution, taking charge of one's destiny in the face of sadness, the strength of the human character, and above all else it describes how a state such as Biafra, not supported by any other foreign nation other than Tanzania, stood up against systematic annihilation in order to map out and define what rightfully belonged to them--equality, justice, security, and free will.

The book has made me sad for the couple of days.

While reading the book, I was completely immersed in a story about people who are confronted with tough decisions, make heart-wrenching choices, and leap blindly into their future. The author did not spare a single detail about the horrors of war, and some of the images within the pages--truths--will be etched upon my mind forever.

In China, after reading a book like this, I'm forced to examine my own mortality and that of others, and I have come to the conclusion that I lack the strength displayed by these characters. At a time in my life such as this, where the familiar no longer exist, people die and are born within the same breath, and the future looms gloomily in the distance as the present encloses me more finally than ever before, a book like this that utterly pulls me into a universe divided causes me to consider my place in the midst of things. I am not at war, yet I am in a conflict that threatens my current life and my future, and the thought of proceeding from such a state grips me with a fear that is metallic and cold. Sometimes I see my image in the mirror and feel like I'm misplaced.

Why am I here? What am I fighting for? Where has this complacency come from? Why doesn't there seem to be a way out? Was this the best decision, and if it was, how much worse could the alternative have been, and what could I do to make the end justify the torment I've put others through by my foolish decisions?

This blog isn't supposed to be introspective, but supposed to be a view into some of the sights and sounds I've come experienced. Unfortunately, I've been looking inward for the past 2 weeks, and what's come out has been, until now, not worthy of the digital printing...

I'm changing, growing, and becoming something I don't completely recognize. China does that to a man.

未来

The “future” is quickly approaching, and it’s time for me to claim my destiny, and in turn claim my victory.

Or maybe it’s not that extreme, but my time abroad in lazy Xiamen was supposed to be when I focused what sort of job I would like, where, how, and to really consider what it means not to go directly to grad school, and not to take the GRE, and to really decide to face the world with my new college diploma (God willing) and a dream. Instead of joining in discussions with my friends about what schools offer what programs, where is the best location, and of course, after acceptance, how we would afford such a venture, I will walk across the stage in May and, supposedly, walk right into the job of my dreams.

I’ve decided not to worry about the situation and do my standard “just trust God” routine, but I believe I’ve taken that mean not do anything at all. I’ve been paralyzed, it seems, when it comes to doctoring up my resume, and even the most standard things such as location (CHINA!) are now up in the air. After what has happened with my Grandma, and with the importance of family and close ties to friends an every constant, I have to consider what it means to leave it all behind and to venture out into the world permanently, without the luxury of a return date.

There’s also the questions of my majors—Chinese was a good decision, and just in the knic of time since my love of Japanese has faultered, but International Relations, I’ve come to the ultimate conclusion, was one of my biggest mistakes. A major without any sort of focus or true preparation for a future career, I’ve never experienced such a mindless collection of classes and lack of cohesion in my entire life. What does one do with an International Relations degree besides work for the UN anyway? I’m not jumping on a sinking ship at this stage of life, and I will not spend my life cloistered in some broke-down part of New York, waiting for my ship to come in (Amber, of course, you feel me on this).

Yet, soon and very soon, not only is Jesus coming back but college loans are coming in, along with having to do what I promised my mom I would do when I was a “tiny tot for Christ”—assume all of my own expenses. My insurance(s), bill(s), loans and what not will all become my own responsibility, and while Caribou is fantastic at this stage of my life, I’m sure that my current salary and hours will not be able to cover the debt that my mom complains about along with standing up with my desire to be fabulous in clothes, pursuits, and standards. In fact, instead of writing this entry, I should have my resume on this screen, cutting and buffering up, and be posting that bitch on-line along with a bang-ass photo so that prospective employees can marvel at how fantastic I am at doing absolutely nothing the last four years.

Well, maybe it’s not that extreme, but the writing is on the wall.

Thanksgiving

I want to travel this Thanksgiving break (who cares if OEC gave us only Thursday off and not Friday?). I'm thinking about the following locations--

The cheapest--Fuzhou (This province's capitol)
Xi'an
Beijing
Guilin

Either way, I want to go North. I think if I go North, I'll meet cuter men (taller, more manly, and in love with the dark chocolate) and eat better food, and I'll sound more authentic since I talk with a Northern accent, and people will stop laughing at me. Beijing is too far (imagine--Florida to Vancouver), but I already have friends there. Xi'an is the leader thus far, inspired by the handsome hostboy at the club I went to earlier. It also has cool Muslim shit, which seems to be all the rage with me these days. I think it'll be good to possibly be by myself since, well, it'll be Thanksgiving without Grandma's cooking, and without Grandma.

Btw, hot song I'm listening to on constant repeat:

Amy Winehouse - Take the Box

Never mind the crappy-ass picture--it has the best quality.

Naughty

Being abroad makes you lose your damn mind.

Whether you're me in China, Amber in Korea, Bobby in Spain...there's no end in the cycle of debauchery that takes place.

I've been a naughty boy while here. A very, very naughty boy. Most of my exploits can only be discussed in private emails and facebook messages with people who I've known for years. I'm afraid for them to get out, or even worse, I'm afraid that I take too much pride in them.

Only those who are really secure with themselves can sustain any sense of normality while abroad because the temptation to be bad, away from the eyes of parents and the same lot of friends, is too tempting to resist.

With that said...how about mailing me a Bible and some holy water:

Caiqingjie Building Room 901
Overseas Education College Service Center
Xiamen University
Fujian Province
PRC 361005

Allow several weeks for delivery.

^-_-^

Where you been? I've been missing you...

I fought the Beast and claimed the victory.

I've climbed structures built to prevent me.

I retreated to my hiding place.

I've communed with men older than time.

I've seen the news written on the wall.

Word cannot describe it.

quanzhou prt dos

Hindu spire at a Buddhist temple.

Wicked Muslim man hawking wares at the temple. Good as wares.

People long dead.

The shrine of the great man who started the cemetary.

Too lazy to bring flowers for your loved one's grave? Girl, all you gotta do is bring a cactus!

The second day in Quanzhou started off quite well. Our hotel rooms were fantastic, and the threat of dangerous “service” averted, I slept well on the large, plush mattress and the crisp white sheets. I looked over at Jon. He was still asleep, and he looked cuter when asleep than did Luke. Check below for a picture…just kidding.

We work up and went down stairs for breakfast. It was Chinese style: porridge, unknown meets, greasy bread and soy milk, but thank God they had coffee. I munched that down, and from there we headed out to what was supposed to be a museum… but we got lost en route, so our tour guide just randomly pulled over to the nearest tourist attraction: a cemetery. But to her credit, it wasn’t just any cemetery, but a Muslim one, and the grave stones and what not were particularly beautiful. The headstones had a mixture of Arabic and Chinese on them, and every once in a while there would be angels and other bits of religious paraphernalia. Moreover, a characteristic of cemeteries and graves in this area is that they are above ground, or at least there are a series of stone slabs that came up from the ground to denote that someone was below. The cemetery was nestled on a green hill after a series of stairs, and along the way we passed a rock that had been blown by the wind that it was precariously placed on the edge of a cliff. Who knows—a super-strong typhoon or a few more centuries and that rock will fall off and kill someone.

At the top of the cemetery was a worship alter for the Muslims there. Inside were stone tablets with inscriptions in Arabic and Chinese, but the must striking feature was the incense in the middle in front of a portrait of one of the most influential to the Islamic community during their years of exploration in the area. It was told to us that people, Christians and Muslims alike, would set up resident in wherever they landed after months at sea, and on that rock they would build a church so that the gates of Hell could not prevail against it. Or something of that nature. Either way, the incense is definitely not a Islamic ritual usually, but a Buddhist one, so seeing the two religions meld so nicely was good indeed.

After that, people started tripping the fuck out, so when we arrived at our next destination—a maritime museum—it turned out to be our last destination. I was really feeling the place—particularly the tombstones from the different religions that had settled in the area (including Hinduism), which had translations helpfully provided in English—but since people wanted to go home so badly, we left and went back after only an hour (I mean, really, an hour in a museum?!) and returned home.

A fact about China: convenience is not the top priority. When you’re on the interstate, and you have to use the bathroom, about how many gas stations, rest stops, convenience stores and exits do you pass that will allow you to stop? In China, this is not the case. If you’re going on a long ride, leave the fluids at home. One of us had to use the bathroom, and she gave full notice to the driver that she had to tinkle, and our driver, Zheng, looked for one. 20 minutes later and no bathroom, we pulled to the edge of the road, and our lady pulled down her trousers and did her business in the bushes. Gangsta, but a fact that people should know before coming to China. Always carry a packet of tissues or you’ll be screwed later on.

Quanzhou At-a-glance

Muslims are awesome. At the Cai compound.

At the Cai compound. Great architecture.

The temple we stood outside of. I'm sure it's even better inside.

This mosque is old as hell. And pretty as fuck.

Muslim's be wild'n'out in Quanzhou

Quanzhou Day 1

This past weekend, I went with the class to Quanzhou 泉州. It was better than I expected.

At first, I was scared since our professor told us that Quanzhou was known for its sexual tourism and neglected to mention other things. He talked about how you can go to most hotels and you'll get a call from downstairs asking would you like any special 服务 or "services." Of course what they're selling is not just the shoe shines and the massages, but a special massage...where you need it the most.

My feelings of dismay weren't relived when we got there, and all you see for the first 30 minutes into the city are rocks, quarries, more rocks, cranes, and the billboards of oil and mining companies that are in the city. What the fuck is the wasteland, i asked? We pulled over once to go potty, and stopped at some broke-neck gas station with dirty ass toilets that smelled suspiciously of propane. I smoked a cigarette and courted death.

And battled my stomach. Grace's birthday was the nice before, so we celebrated by going to a fantastic Indian restaurant called "Indiano Jones'". Great food, but not the food one should eat before going on a busride, without coffee, for a couple of hours.

We made it into the city, which at the time was unimpressive, and stopped at some old Muslim place where this guy explained to us about the Muslim communities and heritage of the area. Our tour guide kept getting the translation wrong, so the Chinese Americans in our program helped us get a richer understanding, and by richer I mean perfect. The building we saw allegedly built by the same man who's name is stamped on our building. Apparently, he was a somebody important. Neat stuff about the place: the roofs were flat and the houses built of stone. It was great learning about how Muslims built stuff as opposed to hearing about how people other than the whack-ass Europeans do shit.

We ate a whack ass lunch in a hotel where you could rent rooms for 2 hours for only 60 kuai. They had a western-style toilet, but no toilet paper. After that, we went to a temple, stood outside of it because we couldn't go outside, and then went to the city mosque. Amazing, and I believe it was build around 1089 or something, so it was probably the oldest structure I've been around after some of the classroom buildings at UNC. We bargained with a Muslim man for some glamourized birdseed, lost, but Chloe won when she bargained since she's ruthless...kind of a pitbull when it comes to negotiating.

We went to dinner, and then the hotel. At this point, seeing the rich history of the place along with urbanization had changed my opinion of Quanzhou drastically. Our hotel, the 明发酒店 was luxious, and put our hotel/dorm at Xiamen University to shame. Luke and I went swinging, so I stayed with Jon and he stayed with Paul. Jon and I as roommates--good times. In our search for coffee and also ways to pre-game for an eventual night out, we went in search of a convenience store. The one the hotel provided was whack, and the dead-eyed 14 year old girl behind the register, and her absolute fear of a bunch of foreigners speaking Chinese, made us search for another. We took a series of stinky underground stairwells to the main street near our hotel and Jon stopped for bao-zi. We went from there, went to a super market, and then bought some shit. Phebe, Megan, and Claire all hung out in our room, and we enjoyed coffee, 四特酒 (Four-specialities liquor), orange juice, and green tea. We ate mochi, and later on Phebe and I went shopping for fruit to get for Grace's official birthday on Sunday.

Our hotel had a dance club, karaoke rooms, and suspicious women all on the 3rd floor. We could hear the bass deep into the night, although Jon and I didn't sleep much since we were talking about everything under the sun. I'm glad I'm not his roommate because I'd never get any sleep, but our time together really helped me understand what sort of person he is. His intentions are good, almost admirable, even if he is a heathen. I don't think he reads this, although if he did, he should know I think fondly of him, even although I missed my roomie terribly.

tbc

Around the Harbour

Part III

"Whut chu lookin' at, foo!?"

Mountains and humanity in 沙田.

Lights, Karaoke in Mong Kok

Ben, doing something seedy in the seedy cafe near our hostel (this is what he gets for not reading my blog!)

"Fuck on Hoe"?

HK Fever

Part II

Hong Kong has always been a fantasy place for me. From the movies. Like I mentioned before, it was the Hong Kong movies that really got me interested in Chinese cultures when I was full-steam Japan ahead. Some of the neighborhoods we walked down the second day look like sets from those movies--cramped but clean, lots of unknowns around every corner, the clatter of Cantonese in the air, temples and high-rises close virtually falling on top of one another. It was awesome.

Hong Kong boys are also cuter than mainland boys I've scene (outside of Beijing)--people there have a slight pout of their lips, kind of like the French are notorious for, and their smart fashion sense make them severely attractive.

In Hong Kong, the streets are not paved with piss like in Shenzhen, but are paved with cobblestones or even concrete. The neighborhoods are all connected to one another across the SEZ (Special Economic Zone) and the island proper by a network of MTR (aka metro) called the Octopus because of its main ring and legged shape. I have my octopus card still, so if anyone wants to buy it from me he or she is more than welcome to.

The second day was spent mainly touring the different districts. The air was hot and sticky, and a few times there was a slight rain that never got to heavy. We walked along the edge of the harbor where you can see the habour being swept by the winds of YET ANOTHER typhoon--Typhoon Higo. We ate at several places, none of them as authentic as the place the day before because, well, we live in China to different degrees, and I've gotten my fill of searching for authentic Chinese cuisine when it's about 2 feet away from me in my little town of Xiamen.

Later on that night, I went to a pub/KTV called Tony's just outside of our hostel that catered to a special clientele. I met somewhere there from Britain, and we went to his place way out in the middle of no where so he could show me more of his Hong Kong. It got late, and I came back via taxi and had a chance to drive over the bridge to the SEZ (before we had taken a metro), and I saw the whole city buslting by moon-light. I'm glad I have a memory like this to myself, for me alone, and can remember the conversation I had with the cabbie who a) spoke English, b) used to live in Austrailia, c) cut the price in half, and d) let me pay in the mainland's currency, RMB.

I told the British dude that when I think of HK, I'll think of him. The specifics of our meeting are available by email if you ask and I trust you enough.^_^

A hand grenade that explodes guts. In a mall near a Ms. Field's ^___^

Me on the Habour.

From the ferry on the way across (Good idea, Daegan).

Buddhas with spray-painted faces? I think it's a sign from the Triad! >_>

A rope of incense in a random temple.