20 July 2007

My week in Henan Province

Perhaps the most important part of HBA, the summer program that I'm attending, is that every students spends the fifth week away from Beijing in one of five other more rural locations, researching a topic of his or her choice. I chose to go to Henan Province and Shaolin Temple to learn about Chinese religion (and, a bit to my surprise, martial arts). Below are my journal entries from the trip.

14 July 2007

Here I am at 少林寺 (Shaolin Temple). Where to begin?

Yesterday we met Luo and Wang Laoshi (teachers) in the hotel lobby at 6pm. They were both very nervous and quickly herded the nine of us students into three cabs, which took us to the train station.

We traveled by sleeper train—a first-time experience for me! Compared to flying economy from California to Beijing, the sleeper train was downright luxurious. I was in one of the top bunks (there were three levels), and had a 2-3 foot by 6-7 foot bed. I slept fairly well despite two nightmares.

When we got to the train station in Dong Feng, a bus met us. We traveled for another two hours or so to here, a “Foreigner’s” hotel within the grounds of Ta Gou Gong Fu school—near Shaolin Si. We arrived here yesterday at about nine a.m. Our hotel is a “Foreigner’s Hotel” on the grounds of a Gong Fu school. The hotel itself is a bit smelly, and we live in grimy rooms on the fourth floor, but all that is compensated for by the beautiful view of terraced fields and mountains just outside the window.

We spent yesterday acclimatizing and visiting Shaolin Temple. The temple itself is spectacular. After visiting the Lama Temple and the Ming Tombs, I was able to appreciate this temple’s abundance of statues, relative cleanliness, and beautiful (if sparse) flora. It seemed not like an ill-kept museum but like an actual holy spot—which is probably largely because it still is a working temple. Living proof of that, a young and charismatic Buddhist monk met us at the door and gave us a three-hour, personal tour; I understood about a third of what he said. Wang Laoshi told me that he’d lived at Shaolin since he was three years old; perhaps this was the reason for his charisma and for the sense of tranquility that he emanated. As he showed us holes in the complex’s stone floor (the product of one monk’s years and years of practicing Gong Fu in the same spot) and basic Gong Fu moves, he yelled violently—and then, an instant later, returned to his more natural facial expression, an easy smile.

By the time that we got back from the temple and ate dinner, everyone was pretty worn out. We met our Gong Fu teacher, Hu Laoshi, and began watching a Jet Li movie. I quickly became drowsy and relocated up to our room to sleep; I knew that the morning was coming quickly.

And that it did. We woke up at 4:45a.m. to meet Hu Laoshi for a jog and a workout. We trotted up the hill to Shaolin and spent an hour or so strength training and learning basic Gong Fu/Tai Chi moves. My favorite Shaolin moment yet occurred this morning. As we were walking back from the temple, we passed two older monks (around 30 years old) and two young monks (8 years old!) walking down the road. We lingered and chatted with them for a few minutes before continuing on our way. The sun was rising, the mist was dissipating, and the feeling of that instant was, well, indescribable.

Now it’s eight o’clock and in half an hour we’re meeting with the Gong Fu school’s president to ask questions. Later this afternoon? More Gong Fu. I’m intimidated as heck, because all the students here have not 6, not 8, but 24-packs (I’m talking about muscles here). I’ll let you know how it goes.

2:14p.m.

Meeting with the school president was interesting and inspiring: I think I’ve found my research topic! I want to write about a concept called “Three Religions as One,” or the intersection of Buddhism, Confucianism, and Daoism. The school president spoke about this at some length; I didn’t understand all that he said, but did bring my recorder this time, so hopefully I can review the speech later tonight.

I also got to speak with an English teacher from the Gong Fu school. It was slightly awkward, since (1.) I spoke Chinese to her and she spoke English to me—neither of our strong points—and (2.) I mostly wanted to know about religion and Gong Fu, neither of which she was particularly well-educated in, but I still learned a lot about the region’s history and her life! I’m surprised to learn that a lot of Chinese in China is taught by locals (I thought Westerners came in to do the job much of the time). But we exchanged e-mail addresses and she told me to write if I have any questions. Seeing as a draft of my report is due in two days, I may just take her up on that.

Luo and Wang Laoshi took us into Dong Feng, a city that feels like a cross between Fresno, California and Kwanakakai, Hawaii, for lunch. We ate at a (I’ll confess, my expectations were surpassed) clean and delicious hot pot restaurant for lunch: each of us got our own pot of boiling water and the table was laden with baskets of clean uncooked beef, lamb, lettuce, potato, tofu, and noodles. Kind of a Chinese-style fondue, but for that our teachers told us it was a Muslim restaurant. Did I mention that the restaurant was actually wonderfully, amazingly air-conditioned and clean?

After lunch, we went to a store to stock up on bottled water and other such necessities. I bought shampoo, fortune cookie-crumbs (“crackers”), and Skittles and although my mouth watered at the place’s baked goods, they looked just sketchy enough that I decided not to risk it.

Now we have an hour (Ah… beautiful!) of rest and I’m doing just that. I’m thinking of all of you who are reading this blog and of the other HBA-ers scattered throughout China. Until tonight…

15 July 2007

After two and half hours yesterday of jumps, squats, and the “five-stance” routine (and, thank goodness, eight hours of sleep), I woke up at 4:45a.m. with aching legs and a knot between my shoulders. Also, the cold that was going around HBA a week ago seems to have finally got me; my throat aches, my ears hurt and I feel tired. Our jog up the hill was somewhat lackluster; it seemed that I wasn’t the only one feeling yesterday’s workout. Luckily, this morning we didn’t practice sprints and jumps but rather Tai Chi. The 26-step routine was difficult—I couldn’t seem to copy Hu Laoshi’s graceful transitions between poses—but, again, the sun was rising and the mountain was beautiful.

We ate breakfast together at the hotel’s cafeteria, and now it’s 8:00a.m. In half an hour, we’re off to more Gong Fu training. Today we’re supposed to learn cartwheels, walkovers, flips, and other such acrobatic feats, but I kind of doubt that I’ll be successfully back-flipping by 11:00a.m. This afternoon we talk with a Daoist scholar. More on that to come.

8:03p.m.

And I’m back! Today’s Gong Fu was pretty intense. On top of yesterday’s soreness, we were thrown in with students who have been here for a year to give us a taste of what “real” training is like. I watched the scrawny-but-muscular Swedish guys hold Matrix-like poses and thought, darn, that just isn’t going to happen today. I proceeded to embarrass myself with low little jumps and kicks that only just reached my waist, and wished that Tim Brown (if you ever read this, Tim, hi!) was part of our team so that we could prove to these Swedish guys that not all Americans are clumsy. The day’s success, though? I successfully cartwheeled! My thought process was, if I can’t even do a stupid cartwheel, I might as well go home, and so I flung myself into space and managed after some airborne flailing to land on my feet!

In the afternoon, as it turned out, we weren’t meeting with a scholar but rather going to the famous Song Shan Temple. The temple was pretty fantastic.

First of all, it was built to honor a mountain in keeping with Daoist reverence of nature. This meshes well with my own “pagan” belief system: I think that nature is certainly worth worshipping. One of the eleven courtyards was flanked by four stone buildings, each representing one of China’s most famous peaks: the North one, the East one, the South one, and the West one. Since we were at Song Shan (the center one), this made a lot of sense.

In another courtyard were four statues that reputedly have healing powers: four tall bronze men that didn’t really look like much. The tour guide told us that the way this “healing” worked was that if, for example, you had a sore neck then you touched one of the statues’ necks and yours would feel better. Our legs aching from this morning’s training, we jokingly patted the nearest statues’ thighs. And (you can believe this or not; I understand if by now you’re thinking, “the girl’s on opium”) it actually worked. It didn’t entirely get rid of my soreness, but whereas even walking up to the statue had hurt before, after touching it I painlessly walked away. I looked at my roommate, Kai Yue, and kind of raised my eyebrows. She did the same. “It works!” I said. “Yeah… that’s weird.” she replied. The “healing” only lasted for about fifteen minutes, and after that our legs returned to their achy state, but whether it was spiritual, psychological, or coincidental, my legs felt better. Go figure.

After leaving the temple, we headed back into Dong Feng for more grocery shopping and dinner. We taxied it back to Ta Gou Gong Fu School and now we’re supposed to turn in a draft of our social study report—the reason for our being here—to the teachers. I still have quite a bit of research that I need to do. I guess I’ll scratch out an outline and fill in the meaty stuff later.

17 July 2007

Hello again! Today, our schedule changed a bit—which, to be honest, I was grateful for. Instead of practicing Gong Fu (interesting but exhausting) we visited the grounds of Song Yang Shu Yuan, an ancient school, and climbed Song Shan (Song Mountain).

Song Yang Shu Yuan topped even yesterday’s Daoist temple. We entered at a gate at the bottom of a hill and slowly made our way to the top; the landscaping and gardening were beautiful. I’ll try to post a few pictures. Inside the school was also a 4,500 year old Cyprus tree, reputed to be China’s oldest.

Our drivers (we’ve befriended two taxi drivers who follow us around to our various stops) met us outside the school and took us to the base of Song Shan. The path up the mountain was remarkably well-kept; the smooth concrete steps were eroded away in only a few places. And yes, they were steps. Stairs. What have you. Another Papa-quality hike!

Actually, after I got over my mild flu symptoms I enjoyed the hike a lot. The trail went through three Daoist temples—each one home to several families. At the first temple, an old man brought out his Gong Fu students and they put on a show for us. Watching skinny, rag-clad ten-year-olds wield heavy weapons impacted me. As the boys ran into their “dorm rooms,” small stone rooms with no electricity, no water, and only a thin mat to sleep on, got their weapons and performed with great intensity, I thought about American ten year olds and the way that they live. I thought about what these Chinese ten-years olds would experience as teenagers (falling in love?), young adults, old ones—and realized that really, I had no idea. It’s strange to think of a world different enough from your own that it’s as though it’s in another universe.

The mountaintop was shrouded in fog—fog so thick that you couldn’t see more than ten or fifteen feet ahead of you. We hiked on, with no idea how close we were to the top, or even if there was a top. Maybe we’d keep climbing on into the clouds indefinitely, as in a dream. But no: we passed a few more huts and the stone steps ended. We followed an orange, muddy trail perhaps 100 feet and suddenly the fog that had been on both sides of and above us, but not below us, was also below us. We took pictures at the top and then (the top is only halfway!) began our descent.

By the time that we got down to the bottom, I wanted to die. When that feeling subsided, I wanted to go back to Beijing. After that passed, I racked my mind desperately for ways to kill (or at least incapacitate) Hu Laoshi… and after a shower and a clean change of clothes, I decided that I’d better suck it up and appreciate the experience.

18 July 2007

Now it’s the next day, and after running, Tai Chi, and breakfast, we have an hour-long break before Gong Fu begins. I’m savoring every minute not spent moving.

3:48p.m.

After half an hour of Gong Fu today, my body said “no.” The cold that I’ve been fighting off all week with high doses of Ibuprofen broke through and simply said “no.” And so I went back to my room and slept.

I’ve been here most of the day—except for a two-hour excursion to Shaolin Temple. I’ve slept for a few hours, and read for a few more. I feel really wimpy, but at the same time have no desire whatsoever to get really sick here in Henan.

19 July 2007

It’s been over a day since I last blogged. I woke up yesterday morning feeling much, much better—well enough to join the morning Tai Chi/running group despite heavy rain.

After wading back through ankle-high orange water, we ate breakfast and boarded a tour bus. Yesterday was not a Gong Fu day, but rather a sightseeing one. Our bus took took us to Luoyong, one of China’s ancient capitals. There, we saw the Longmen Caves and the White Horse Temple.

The Longmen Caves are not really caves, but rather indentations in a rock wall in which thousands of Buddhas are carved. Although it’s by no means spelunking, a few Buddhas are set back far enough that you have to actually walk into a rock-walled “room” to see them. The carvings are impressive in that they are very old and there are a lot of them. Some of the stonework is really intricate! Unfortunately, history has not been good to Longmen: American and European explorers knocked the heads off of most of the normal-sized statues to use as paperweights or to put in museums. Only the largest statues, the ones whose heads would be difficult to knock off, remain intact.

After seeing the caves, we headed into the city of Luoyong for lunch. Our plan was to eat its famous “water meal”—26 courses of soup that are (according to Lonely Planet) served up with the speed of flowing water. Having seen a tributary of the Yellow River near the caves, I’m not sure if this is supposed to mean fast or slow! However, once we got to Luoyong our teachers realized that this meal was beyond our budget… and took us to KFC. Although we all knew that we should be sad about missing the regional speciality, there’s something about a real cup of coffee and a chicken wrap that made the disappointment, well, dissipate. We got back on the bus full, and in good spirits.

白马寺, or the White Horse Temple, was China’s first Buddhist Temple. It got its name because two Indian missionary-types brought Buddhist script and a statue of Buddha from India to China on the backs of two (you guessed it) white horses. The temple was beautiful: the grounds were flat and lush, which differentiated it from Shaolin and other mountain temples. We walked around for an hour or two, and then took our bus back to Dong Feng, where we celebrated our last night here.

We ate a restaurant and played a few very entertaining games of “Psychiatrist” (心里学家). My personal favorite moment was Jin You (who was at the time the “psychiatrist”) drilling Luo Laoshi: Jin You asked, “Where are you from?” Luo Laoshi crossed his arms and lied, “Taiwan.” Where are you from? Arms still crossed. “Taiwan!” Where are you from? Luo Laoshi uncrossed his arms. “China.” We all nodded in agreement. Jin You’s face looked utterly confused and the rest of the table erupted in laughter. After we finished dinner, we went to a karaoke bar next door and rented out a room. We struggled through the traditional-character subtitles and the tunes of Chinese songs we didn’t know, yet (perhaps thanks to the freely-flowing 啤酒) still managed to make a night of it. At eleven or so, we piled into our taxis and came home—where I slept soundly until now, the next morning, at 6:30a.m. No early morning workout today… just three hours of Gong Fu, and then back to Beijing!

I can’t wait to drink a real latte, or to see Wen Jun. I’m looking forward to hearing about the other students’ trip to Inner Mongolia.

One last thought:

If you want to know more about what my experience was like, follow this recipe:
1. Read Peter Hessler's book "Oracle Bones." Excellent excellent excellent.
2. Watch the scene from the Disney movie "Mulan" in which the soldier-recruits sing the song "Be a Man." (Yes, Hu Laoshi was that attractive.)
3. Watch the older Jet Li movie "Shaolin Si"--probably "Shaolin Temple" in English. Be prepared for some gore.