So after originally being overwhelmed by the amazing display of fireworks for spring festival, I am now looking for earplugs so I can sleep through the constant barrage of explosions. Holy crap! How long does this go on? I mean I love fireworks don’t get me wrong but couldn’t we have a mute button for a bit of quiet? I start to realize there is a pattern. The guy down the street to my right is going for big noise but not much flash. He is consistent about one giant boom every four or five minutes. The guy in the street directly in front of my apartment is competing with another guy just to the left for height and flash. One guys sets off a barrage of colorful projectiles then the other then back to the first. Sprinkled in to that is an occasional burst here and boom there. I am getting shell-shocked and it isn’t even a war zone! I imagine myself trying to negotiate the route to my coffee shop. I picture someone yelling at me to zig and zag my way past the mortars shooting off skyrockets. Look out! Run no stop! Go left! No go right! Hit the deck! ….Ok it isn’t even that bad, my imagination starts to get the best of me (too many cartoons when I was young I think).
I realized that I needed a few things to make my apartment complete. It is fully furnished with some kitchen utensils and a few bowls plates and glasses. The furniture is very nice. I just needed some essentials like hangers for the closet and cleaning stuff so off to WuMart again. I decided to walk it. It is about a kilometer away and a nice walk in the cold air. I did my shopping and went to checkout. We managed though sign language to get the money thing taken care of and I waited for the check out person to bag my purchases. She started to help the next person then saw that I was still standing there looking perplexed. She signed to me to see if I wanted bags. You apparently buy the plastic bags if you need them. I yuan for two bags. Ok I am learning slowly.
Getting used to looking foolish but I wonder how long before it just becomes my way of life. Here I am looking foolish getting food, here I am looking foolish getting coffee, etc etc. I’m feeling lucky and decide to hail a cab to see if I can get myself home. It was more out of necessity though because the bags where pretty heavy. I hailed a cab and proudly announced my destination in Mandarin. Instead of the usual reaction I get when I try Mandarin, I got a nod and then he asked questions I think like where on Huixie Dongie (Pronouced roughly wheesheendawngeay). I say Jing mao das mei. I arrived home feeling a bit proud of myself that I could around and get back home without too much trouble. Then a feeling of stupidity came over me. Come on! I am 53 years old and feeling good about myself for doing something so basic as getting myself home? I should be able to do that anywhere by now! What is the matter with me?
When I was a photographer working for the San Diego Union-Tribune, I had done assignments in the jungles of Chiapas, and in various parts of Mexico. I have spent time driving in France and even survived Detroit! I have gotten soft I think to myself. You are embarrassing yourself! I decide that I won’t be letting this language thing get me down. I decide to cut myself some slack. As a photojournalist, I would just hire a fixer (someone who translates for you and helps you get around). I don’t think I can afford a live in fixer right now so I will just have to be patient. The thing is, I am meeting people here that seem so kind and so interesting and I want to talk to them to find out about how they think.
I have never considered myself someone who travels well. But usually I manage pretty well to get myself around. When in Chiapas I manage to get myself on a truck heading into the jungle to look for Sub Comandante Marcos, the leader of the Zapatistas. There I was in the southern most Mexican state standing on the bumper of a slat truck searching for a man who had the guts to attack the Mexican army with a small band of rebels with a few rifles and sticks. Ok so we didn’t find him but at that time he didn’t want to be found. Months after I had returned to San Diego, Marcos made himself available to just about every media outfit around. He even posed for a layout in Vogue I think it was. So while I am no James Nachtwey, I have been able to get around. I realize that my bad knees are a real hindrance I will seek out a good acupuncturist while here. Maybe that will help.
Aging sucks especially when you aren’t that old. I lament the fact that I didn’t come here when I was younger but there is a reason I am supposed to be here now. China is the center of the universe right now. I need to learn what brought me here. Too many things had to happen for me to arrive at this place in this time. A breakup with a girlfriend of four years, the loss of a job I had for 25 years, some willingness on my part to get out of my comfort zone. There is a freedom that comes with letting it go and just seeing where life leads you. A good friend told me that she had learned that sometimes life just takes a left turn and you find yourself in a whole new universe. China is my left turn.
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