Cruising Reflections

Being in China is a bit like being a child because it is a constant confrontation with an unknown world, a reminder of everything you don’t understand and an indication of what you can never expect to learn in a lifetime. The Chinese however seem much better at accommodating the English than English are at accommodating the Chinese. Paper cups aluminum cans bits of Styrofoam all floating by on the Yangze. Little speed boats for transport, cargo ships of coal, piled up, lone fisherman in wooden canoes, rafts, Chinese mostly seem very nice, it is hard to judge how “free” people are when you look them in the face and they smile at you and you see the kids eating candy, and they get so excited about a game of foosball. I once believed Keruac when he said “freedom is an inner thing.”

Maybe the argument isn’t about freedom in China but about development, for someone like me who doesn’t remember the cold war and isn’t scared by the mention of communism. The factor is just the percentage of poverty in the population that matters, “freedom” is something else entirely, I think.

Being in China is a bit like being a child because it is a constant confrontation with an unknown world, a reminder of everything I don’t understand and an indication of what I can never expect to learn in a lifetime.I havn’t checked my email since eating at the “Minority Café” in Yangshuo. “Minority” is the word Chinese use for Westerners. It is interesting being on the other side of that coin.The absence of email and cell phones is different, but I wouldn't call it unpleasant.I was very conscious of being a “tourist” in Spain, and maybe even more so in China. In China, the people seem to have a different attitude about tourists - they are curious about our differences and want to ‘impress’ their guests. I didn’t get the same vibe in Barcelona, not that I didn’t feel welcome to be there, but maybe I blended in more and people didn’t feel like they needed to treat me as a guest.Today was the first time I used my iPod Chinese language instructions to attempt a conversation, and I had moderate success talking to two classmates from Xiamen. They actually started the conversation by telling me I had “beautiful eyes” which was flattering, but I’m not sure it was the phrase they intended to say, because I was wearing sunglasses.I imagine a thousand years ago when the first travelers from the West met the first from the East and how they communicated, and I think I am probably relying on some of the same methods. Mostly facial expressions, hand signals, and smiling are enough to accomplish the necessary exchanges.Today I am still floating on the Yangtze on the "Misfortune," as I have started calling it. Paper cups, aluminum cans, and bits of Styrofoam are floating by on the river. Little speed boats keep zipping by, along with slow-moving cargo ships carrying piles of coal, lone fisherman in wooden canoes, and the occasional rafts. The sun is struggling to poke through a hot, cloudy haze.Knowing that this is a Communist country, I've been thinking about how different the system is than I expected. I think it is hard to judge how “free” people are when you look them in the face and they smile at you and you see the kids eating candy. I didn't expect Communists to get so excited about a game of foosball, have Adidas stores on Main Street, or dress in the latest fashion. Who knew?I'm reminded of the Jack Keruac quote:“Let me tell you, sir, freedom is an inner thing. And do not underestimate that remark by all means.” Maybe the conversation shouldn't be about freedom in China but about development. Without concern for the political system, I wonder if the percentage of poverty in the population is what really matters, “freedom” being something else entirely. My attitude is probably a result of my age; I'm too young to remember the 'cold war' and don't have any preconception of a Communist state.

I have a roommate on the ship named “Clement,” a student who speaks English. At first I was not very pleased by the idea of sharing a room with a stranger, but he has been very friendly. I asked "Clement" if he could bestow a Chinese name on me, since he has an English one. I asked if I could be "Happy Dragon," and he taught me how to say it in Mandarin: Long Kai Xing.  (Spelling maybe incorrect.)

My conspiracy alarm initially rang, upon finding "Clement" in the room, wondering if he was intentionally placed in my cabin by the government to learn my Western secrets, and convince me that Communism is harmless. I am probably just crazy, but anything is possible.

Today in the "social room" on the ship, we learned how to play Mah-Jong from some helpful and excited teachers.  The game is easy enough once the Chinese numerals are understood. Last night, some Chinese men were indescribably excited to play Foosball with our group, hooping and hollering after every scored goal. They didn't speak any English, but they spoke Foosball very well.

High-fiving three Chinese guys after a match of Foosball on a ship called the "Misfortune" floating down the Yangtze river, in the middle of August, with a Belgian and an Englishman for company, I had one of those "how the hell did I get here??" moments.

Which is kind of a nice moment to have, sometimes.