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FROM MY MOUTH TO YOUR EARS
If you would like view photos of the trip and those of us who
ventured out, The venerable Robert Kikuchi-Yngojo has
established a couple URLs: It's
always a blessing to have the way one thinks and views the world
turned upside down. That is exactly what happens when
you enter anothers' culture. We could, of course, do this
with our neighbors, but it is so much more fun to travel with
friends to a place where you can eat Chines food three times
a day! I am guessing that most of our gang went with nobler
objectives. Our primary goal was to maintain and enrich
the ongoing relationship (two visits preceded ours) with Gengcun
Village. 3 1/2 hour NW of Beijing, the people of this village
receive water every other day, have roads of dirt, produce growing
in fields, yards, and roof tops, and a school of simple rooms
off of a courtyard with desks that beckon back 40 years.
They are also the salt of the earth and carry stories from 600
years of traders passing through their streets.
Nancy Wang and Robert Kikuchi-Yngojo of Eth-No-Tec have worked their behinds off maintaining a relationship with community, planning trips, and developing ways for us to enhance one another's' lives. They have a humble goal, World Peace, and are beginning one community (us) and one village (them) at a time. A traditional tourist sucks out the culture of some exotic location and leaves dollars behind. It's an almost fair exchange. We all wanted much more, and planned not only substantial donations for their school and community, but volunteer hours in their classrooms, community wide cultural and arts projects, and a commitment to take their stories and lives into our hearts and world. Take a look at Robert's PhotoAlbum6 to get a sense of our lives there. Every one of will take someone home in our hearts and through our best efforts leave a bit of ourselves in Gengchun Village. A few observations: The
Chinese, like the rest of us, have selective amnesia. Few
German history texts make much of the Holocaust. US History
texts slip over the annihilation and bold land robbery of the
native people. Few Chinese will talk with you about the
Cultural Revolution. (Read Wild Swans for a first
hand account of one vantage point.)
China is in the midst of a new cultural/economic upheaval. The aggressive press towards industrialization and modernization is invading a nation that for centuries was primarily rural, revered it's elderly, and maintained close family allegiances with the elders at both it's spiritual and physical center. In Beijing, like all large modern cities, family compounds of one story structures are a luxury, and the old houton neighborhoods (except for one preserved historic district) are coming down in favor of high rises. The elders are now expected to move with their families to these large apartment complexes. They believe deeply that their feet should be in contact with the earth and the their heads next to the sky. There are problems. In the town we stayed in while visiting the village (Gaocheng, a mere 750,000, did not even warrant a dot on the Chinese map) we saw this change in action. The elders care for the grandchildren while the sandwich generation works and one often sees an elder with children in hand or in the basket of their bicycles, as they shop. There would be 3 shops, right in a row, each selling only toilet paper. The next 4 shops would all be selling 'good luck' accouterments. Six stalls would then all offer shoes that did not differ much one from the next and then coat stores dominate the street, music blaring from speakers to draw people. Folks would meander or bike on the streets, bargaining for the few goods they needed that day, stopping, lowering down to their haunches or small low stools (there is no visible arthritis in China) talking, sipping tea, enjoying the grandchildren, and then standing and heading off.
While we were there the WanFu Super Market had it's grand opening. The largest store the town had ever seen offered everything, from groceries, to coats and shoes, to house wares and good luck accouterments. A sizable stage had been erected against one of it's outer walls, and live entertainment, giveaways, and games drew people like bees to honey. The press to enter the store reminded one of the NYC subways at rush hour, only it was non stop. On the third evening of the gala opening I wandered down to the live performance stage. A young man with spiked hair, the pelvis moves of Elvis, and a 100 watt smile was loudly singing Chinese rock to a blasting recorded soundtrack. The backdrop consisted of blow ups of products in the store and large pictures of attractive young models. When the singer was done he threw handfuls of giveaways out to the crowd and finally welcomed three lovely, young, thin models to the stage to display the clothing that could be found within. I turned and there was woman, nearly toothless, her gray hair pulled neatly into bun, her gray pants and loose gray shirt were the emblem of the revolution she had lived through. In the basket of her bicycle a child of maybe 15 months stared transfixed by the goings on. The woman simply looked confused. PRIDE
During our last night in Beijing five of us beat off exhaustion and made our way to the plaza at the northern gate of the Forbidden City for ballroom dancing and a celebration of Robert Kikuchi-Yngojo 54th birthday. Complete with a cake, a box of candles and matches, and one pair of outrageous birthday glasses sporting tall candles growing out of the frames, propped properly on the birthday boy's nose, we arrived to a wide plaza filled with graceful couples gliding about to music still foreign to our ears. Robert and Nancy, the only 2 of us who could actually move in tandem without causing an earthquake, took off it a blaze of glory. Their nontraditional steps and theatricality drew many an eye. Arif was hiding behind his camera, and Joy and I stood to the side, but eventually, thanks to the generosity of the locals, we all got into the swing of things. We were Waltzing, doing a Polka here and there, and being taught new steps by courageous Chinese partners. We were even free styling (an outrageous act among these well taught couple dancers), but a few women joined us. While stepping on a very kind Chinese woman's feet, she asked me "U.S.A.?" "Yes" I responded. Then she pointed to Nancy. "Yes U.S.A." Then she pointed Arif. "Yes, USA" Then Joy and Robert. "Yes, all U.S.A." She gave me a look I couldn't place and I continued to step on her toes until the music stopped and the plaza darkened at 10 PM. It wasn't until two night later as my husband and I enjoyed a world drumming concert in San Francisco that I got it. As folks poured out of the concert I remembered what I always miss when out of this country:
....and on and on and on. I was home. It
was at that moment I burst into tears. Mike looked over
"You OK?"
I had taken us, as a community, for granted. My dance partner, however, was offered a window into a very different world. Give
me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe
free While you're cruising, why not visit my web site at www.storiesalive.com |
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