Nature's Candy

Our host, Guo (the husband in the Guo and Niu super-duo... man I like how that sounds!), was a communications engineer for the Party from the late 60s into the mid-90s, during which his responsibilities changed from telegraphing (I think) to internet communication. I know I'm missing some information in between (probably a whole lot that I'll be able to tease out in the near future), but his interests go way beyond farming and communication. Before Eunice and I arrived in Hainan, we had exchanged some e-mails regarding our plans. At one point he mentioned that he was writing a book that he would like some help translating.


I never fooled myself into thinking I was competent enough to translate a book, let alone a book whose subject matter was something as complex as "systems theory." "Systems theory" is something I barely understand, even (or maybe I should say "especially") after Guo's explanation: how his disagreement with Darwin's theory of natural selection and competition inspired his research; how all things in all subjects of study are governed by three "systems"; how Jean-Baptiste Lamarck and other 17th and 18th century philosophers were on-target with their theories of how things came to be; how Darwin might have unlocked the secrets of humanity if he had today's technology. Much of our conversation about systems theory (which lasted about 2 hours) was tough for me to understand, not just conceptually, but because of the partially eroded language barrier. I basically only know that systems theory can (or tries to) explain everything. Everything. This excerpt from the Wikipedia page sums up the theory's lofty goals: "Systems theory is the transdisciplinary study of systems in general, with the goal of elucidating principles that can be applied to all types of systems in all fields of research." It was a pretty draining, and my interest waned about halfway through. Such is the nature of many of our conversations, though: I only understand parts of them, and even when I think we've exhausted the topic he takes it somewhere new, probably not getting how little I'm catching.

Life is strange here. Sometimes I don't know who has it harder: me, the translator, who has to bore through all these conversations, translate what I know, admit to Eunice when I don't understand half of what they're saying (and this is awkwardly done right in front of our hosts, though they don't know that's what I'm telling her; or Eunice, who has to have these conversations filtered through a semi-competent translator, can't say what she wants to say if it's out of my ability, has to deal with my inability to take time out of their sometimes-too-engaging conversations to translate what they've said, etc. I'm also not too deft at ending these conversations (the last one, which went from Cultural Revolution/Great Leap Forward to Taiwan-China relations to American politicians Chinese people like [Nixon, Kissinger, Clinton] to Somalian pirates to North/South Korea relations and ended up lasting about 2 hours). All in all, it ain't too easy, but I guess I didn't come here for easy. In the end, though, it all makes Eunice and I laugh - the situation we're in, that is. And I'm glad we can deal with it like that. 

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Here are some selected shorts from the last couple days:

-At last, Eunice and I actually got to help pick some mangoes. We alternated climbing a ladder up to the fruits brandishing a pair of stem-cutters, often climbing through clouds of bugs or spiders’ webs. After a short photo shoot with Niu, we literally enjoyed the fruits of our labor (I promise that’s the last time I’ll say that). I’m actually in love with the egg mangoes (called such for their smaller size elliptical shape) and their delightfully sour taste.

-It rained a little bit in the afternoon. A tease - it didn’t make things any cooler. However, it was the coolest night here so far. Unrelated phenomena in my eyes.

-We made about 77 dumplings with Guo and Niu for dinner. A dumpling feast. I have yet to completely finish a meal given to us by these two - they are far too generous with the portions. For those who thought working on a farm would make me skinnier... well you’d lose that bet.

-We went to the beach the next morning - Lingao Beach. It was pretty deserted, but pleasant. Warm weather, warm water, and all at 9am. Astounding. The air was clear, the water not as much, though certainly not dirty. We threw the frisbee a bit, gathered tiny crabs to feed the ducks when we got back (both activities - catching, then feeding - immensely enjoyable).

-After swimming and crab-hunting for a bit, an encroaching tide pushed us up and off the beach, into an early lunch where we enjoyed some garlicky veggies, chickens’-leg clams, some sort of fish, and some crab. Niu impressed us with her ability to scour a single crab for the entire meal, getting every bit of meat it could have possibly provided. She had prefaced this, fittingly, with a story of a man who took a ten-hour train from Shanghai and spent the entire trip eating a single crab. I think Niu could give that man a run for his money.

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Everyday is a little different, though the skeleton of each day is the same: 

+Wake up at 7

+Eat an over-filling breakfast and talk about how Eunice doesn't eat meat, get health tips from our wise and knowledgable hosts. Today's tip: if you don't eat egg yolks, you will die young. Breakfast is invariably followed by a fruit feast of Elephant Tooth and Egg Mangoes, and today some lychee was added to the mix. (add that to the growing lists of "fruits I've eaten")

+Do about a half hour of manual labor in the garden

+Shower

+Read/study Chinese (started doing flashcards today - waddup Wang Kai)

+Lunch (again, too much food)

+Internet for way too long (often spent blogging, scouring lifehacker/kotaku/gizmodo/facebook... I've actually grown an aversion to looking at political commentary since I've gotten here... a positive development, though not helpful for discussion of current events)

+Eat dinner (my stomach is about to burst at this point)

+Take a walk around the neighborhood, start walking back as it gets too dark to see/almost get run over by a variety of automobiles on the narrow road.

+Internet and read until we're too tired to stay up any longer (this is the best method for getting to sleep in the humidity... and yes, internet is a verb now)

Oh! Before I forget, I'd like to publicly announce that you were right, mom: fruit is nature's candy. It's sweet, sour, mushy, yummy and everything good you said it would be. I never should have doubted you. Now what else have I been missing out on?

Hot and Slow: Life in Hainan

 DISCLAIMER: Since Eunice has done a great job of reporting what our first couple of days in China were like (bouncing around from Hong Kong to Guangzhou to Hainan) here at her blog, I decided to spare everybody some time and report a bit more in depth on what life in Hainan is like. Enjoy

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When life is as slow and uneventful as it is here in Linggao County, my mind tends to wander. Sometimes I tend toward thoughts of futility: why even shower or drink water when the refreshment derived from those actions lasts for mere minutes, if that long at all? At other times, I tend towards a sort of self-loathing: why am I spending my time here so idly, by just reading, resting, or fanning myself? Why don’t I be a little productive and study Chinese, stretch, do something that makes my time feel well-used? I also find myself trying, but quickly failing, to appreciate the unique circumstances I find myself in. “Try and find the hidden beauty in the ubiquity of cow shit” I tell myself. The lack of direction and purpose in my daily life in Linggao County is of course one of the factors generating these generally negative, unfulfilling thoughts.

It was a surprise to me and Eunice that we would spend more time each day eating our hosts’ produce than helping them farm it. In fact, the farming-to-eating ratio of our first two days is approximately 1:18. This isn’t because they’re hesitant to give us work. It’s just a fact of life in Hainan that the best hours for manual labor are the hours when the sun isn’t overhead, which excludes most of the day from being used for work. This has had several effects on our stay here:

1) The feeling that we are taking advantage of our hosts’ hospitality is of much greater magnitude, since we have so little help to offer.

2) Much of the day is spent idly (as mentioned above); as such, the hours feel elongated. No doubt this feeling is exacerbated by the heat, making each dull hour slowly melt into the next.

3) I can’t help but sometimes feel our time in China could be spent more richly - seeing more places, meeting more people, etc. As Eunice puts it, in a more “tourist-y” fashion (and she means that in the most damning sense of the word). I, however, have no problem with the idea of ditching the dull to pursue the new, exciting, yada yada yada.

I guess that last notion means I haven’t yet gotten completely used to the idea of WWOOFing - of acclimating to, and eventually (one hopes) appreciating the kinds of lives other people live. I certainly am more used to life here than I was 3 days ago, when we arrived. I’m more used to the heat, setting up mosquito nets every time we have to sleep, eating fruit at nearly every meal, and waking up to a concert of roosters at about 5am every morning (by the way, I think the South Park guys got the idea for the recurring “Dey took ar jerbs” joke from listening to roosters crowing. Thinking about it in those terms actually helps me deal with that otherwise unbearably obnoxious sound.). But I don’t think that says very much. I think the greater challenge is going to be making it through the dullness, the slowness, and making these qualities of life something more welcome than not.

Of course, our first couple days in China weren’t 100% perfect. Lugging our baggage around, running from train station to train station, getting misinformation from receptionists, and just plain getting lost is something that happened much more frequently those first few days than since we got to Hainan. And that is most definitely a welcome change. You can probably tell it’s sometimes hard for me to be completely content with what I’m doing - always wanting more, or wanting something that I don’t have. I bet it’s pretty hard for anybody reading this to be sympathetic with that sentiment. I’m in no way bitter or discontent with my situation - I just have the occasional pang that I could and should be doing something else. But my life in Hainan won’t last forever, and I know the experience will only make me better, no matter how slow life is.

I’m determined to own every day I’m here in China. As slow or fast as things get, I will find the best in them. So consider this the last whiny post on this blog. :D

Bar None

WARNING: This post may include an egregious amount of sentimentality, open-heartedness and cliches. Continue at your own risk.
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This past week has been surprisingly devoid of anxiety, which is not what one would expect for a recently graduated young man who is particularly anxiety-prone and about to embark upon a year long journey in China, effectively putting into motion a dream which he has had for nearly a third of his life. In fact this week has been pretty breezy for this young man. At the start of the week, he thought all he wanted to do was have one last taste of the foods he would be deprived of for the next year. What a dope. Short-sighted, foolish, dopey boy. Thankfully, he wasn't limited by his imagination, and he ended up getting much more than he ever could have expected out of his final week in the States. He learned. He loved. He had the time of his life.

Now this young man, it should be noted, never took a creative writing class, so gracefully phasing from third- to first-person is not his forte (an understatement, if there ever was). He's not even sure if that's something taught in creative writing classes. So a painfully self-aware paragraph highlighting one of his many shortcomings must, unfortunately, suffice. His name is Dan, and he is about to change the perspective from third-person - wait for it - to first. Huzzah.

I have a hard time approaching anything sentimental without some degree of comedy. Some of you experienced my overly hysterical fake-crying or my awkward attempts to crack jokes upon our recent goodbyes - others must use their imaginations. I find it easier to make shitty jokes than say "I'm so bad at goodbyes!", but I think it's a cop-out nonetheless. The urge to do that, however, undoubtedly derives from my inability to sufficiently express the affection for the people I'm saying goodbye to. And though it's tough for me to show, you should all know that I have an incredible amount of love for all of you who made it a point to make yourselves present this weekend. There are some of you out there who couldn't make it in person or could only come by for a couple of minutes, but my love for those of you who fall into this camp is no less strong or genuine. I was overwhelmed by the affection I received these past two weeks, so much so that my heart (or for the more literal among you, my "chest" or my "feeling area") still LITCHERALLY feels swollen. It has become inundated with love, friendship, joy, and I'm sure some of it has to be Red Dog. A better feeling in the world, there is not.

Now my first reaction to the ridiculous amount of love I received this week is that I just don't deserve it. I don't deserve my own party. I don't deserve friends driving down from Boston or coming in from NYC. I was just touched beyond comprehension by the unconditional displays of affection - I mean, I don't know when I've gone to such lengths just to be with a friend (except, obviously, Eunice my love). But I guess people don't "earn" or "deserve" friends or acts of friendship. In other words, one does not and should not calculate what one has done for them in order to figure out if something is worth doing for their friend. Like I said , it's straight-up unconditional. I think I have made that error before, giving myself excuses not to make the extra effort to be with a friend, and I regret every time I've done that. I regret it because I now know how good it feels to know you have people in your life that don't give a shit about your track record, and will be with you just for the sake of being with you. It's an unbelievable sensation, and it's something I'll carry with me for the rest of my life.

I have an incredible collection of friends from all different areas of my life. Old and new, near and far. Seeing you all in one place lit up my heart and made me finally realize what a rich and beautiful life I have. It makes me that much sadder to leave you all for now, but wherever you end up, know this well: I'll find you. And you can thank yourselves for that.