--I’m in Los Angeles right now. I may not have mentioned that I was returning home so soon, but that’s only because I’m just here for a thesis review and in a few days I’ll be back in Beijing. My last day in China is July 7. But it’s really nice to be home for a bit, see everyone, marvel at the strangeness of my home life. After living amongst families who all rotate their sleep schedule to share one bed, it’s pretty strange to show up here where everyone lives in their own house and has their own yard and takes up so much space that it makes me wonder how we can possibly sustain it all. I guess that’s the question of the century. I feel more culture shock coming home than I ever did upon my arrival in China. And the air in LA is so clear. Jeez.
--There’s an interesting thing happening at BASE right now. About three weeks ago, a large group of us, mostly the guys, all ate the same thing at the same place and ended up with some sort of exotic sickness. It’s not the end of the world, and shut your ears if you are easily embarrassed. A lot of us are mysteriously not ‘regular’. In fact, we are more like ‘disturbingly often’ and ‘freakishly sudden’. It is not uncommon for the tranquil atmosphere of studio to be rent by the sound of a wooden chair being flung backward as some poor soul bursts from his desk to sprint at full speed on careful tiptoes to the bathroom, where all manner of pungent sounds emanate for just a couple of minutes. Then the door will push open, and out will come said person, haggard and relieved, to return to his desk for another couple of hours of peaceful work until the process is repeated again. What is this madness? It makes you start to worry about all sorts of things that are not perfectly right. For instance, I sneeze a lot in the morning. I thought it was my down bedding, but maybe it’s another symptom of the ravaging effects of this strange Eastern parasite. And my knee has been bothering me a lot, which I originally chalked up to a grueling all-day hike across the Great Wall, but perhaps it’s the bug eating away at cartilage between my bones. Also, one of my taste buds is falling out. No kidding. It’s about 3 millimeters longer than the rest of them, and it’s right in the center of my tongue, swishing about in my mouth like a sea anemone tentacle whenever I drink something. I think I’d better see a doctor. Maybe the taste bud is the key to everything that’s wrong with me. What if that’s the Chinese Parasite Headquarters for Section Chris. Is it possible to have one taste bud surgically removed? I can almost pull it out myself, but I think that would be quite messy. Best to leave the skilled work to the professionals. Bu I can feew ip fwopping awoun im my mouf aw va ime an ip’s fweaping ammoying. Aaa. Unh. Bammip! Sigh. Can’t get it. Anyway, my thesis review is tomorrow at 2. If any of you want to come see it, it’s at Sciarc, so stop by if you’ve got a minute. I’ll let you know how it went in the next post.
-c
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
ChinaBlog Day 43
I have been to The Great Wall and must now submit to the most ancient of Chinese rituals. There is an old saying here: One who rides back of stone snake must return home to blog. It is so long-standing and pervasive that there is even evidence of it influencing the Japanese in this recently-uncovered primitive haiku:
Foreign monsters throng
The green mountains divided
Now go home and blog
I find myself part of a tradition few get to experience. And yet it's immediate familiarity makes me question the very nature of this post. Am I going to just write another blog about how amazing the Great Wall of China is? Really?
--Yes. Yes I am very much. Why? Because it's amazing. Really REALLY amazing. So amazing, in fact, that it has its own cell phone towers just so visitors can call home and say, "Hey, whatcha doin? Oh, laundry? That's nice, but I'M ON THE FREAKING GREAT WALL OF CHINA RIGHT NOW. Seeya." *click* I didn't do that, however I did call my dad and wish him a happy Father's Day. It was Father's Day for me, but it isn't Father's Day for him until right now. Confused? Well, just to be safe, I'll say 'Happy Father's Day dad'! There. That should cover all my bases. So, back to the wall.
--Since this post will be entirely about the Great Wall of China from here on out, and it takes me about three minutes to write 'the Great Wall of China', I'm going to hereby shorten it to UJDWC, which stems from a nickname I gave it at the time (Utterly Jaw-Dropping Wall of China). The UJDWC is so impressive that there were at least three times when I literally gasped audibly. The first was when a swarm of bees flew into our cable car enclosure. The second was when I saw the wall for the first time. And the third was when I realized that there were four near-vertical wall sections between me and the car. It turned out that the bees were more like hornets, and a good frantic screaming scramble to wedge ourselves underneath the benches seemed to ward them off. This slow, creaky, slow cable car system is designed to circumvent the 40 minute road hike up to the entrance. UJDWC is built along mountain ridges, for obvious defensive reasons, so just arriving at the gate doesn't get you even within sighting distance of the one man-made thing that can be seen from space in daylight. We opted for the slow, creaky, slow, dizzyingly high and vulnerable-to-aerial-attack contraption that is half ski-lift and half death-trap to quicken our pace to UJDWC. I think it still took 40 minutes. What's nice is it lets you off at one of the towers, so you go through a 500 year old castle-like structure before the UJDWC is revealed to you in it's treacherous splendor all at once as you emerge from the darkened stone cavern.
--What a day to do this hike. It's 4 miles long, and takes 4 hours. It's a set route along the wall that enables you to hit every major ticket stop before getting to the end. Our driver dropped us off, wrote a note in Chinese, waved, and left. There was some feeling that he would probably be there at the other end when we arrived, but it wasn't completely obvious at that point. We figured that our rockin cell signal would eventually save us.
--UJDWC is in various states of disrepair and newness, and was obviously built by whomever happened upon the site over its lengthy period of construction. Its width, height, slope, lean, stairs, ramps, cobblestones, and towers vary so violently from one patch to another that just keeping yourself from toppling over is a heavy task. And several places are so steep that you crawl up the steps. Also, there are essentially two general types of stairs; ferret-sized and rhino-sized. Why they couldn't just assume that it would be mostly people who used the wall, I don't know. I guess they were just covering all their bases. But it means that any human visitor must use the full capacities of their frontal cortex to correctly place bottom-of-foot onto tread-of-stair, as it is either 3 or 16 inches above or below its previous resting place. We (Matt, Jessica, Mark, and I) must be brilliant, because we managed to get through the four hour hike without more than a single ruptured knee and a slightly broken nose.
--The views of UJDWC from UJDWC are astonishing. I took a million pictures of essentially the same thing in different configurations during the hike, and they can now be seen on flickr in case you're a glutton for punishment. No, seriously, they're awesome.
--What was not awesome was the agonizing brutality of the hike. We were constantly drenched in sweat and locals trying to sell us Cokawaterpostcardtshirt like it was gold nuggets at a clearance sale. One woman actually stood in front of us and watched us eat our packed lunch ready to pounce when it appeared any of us was getting to the bottom of our water. 'Cold Cokawater! Cold Cokawater! Postcardshirt!' 'NO. I have NO MONEY. The UJDWC ticket kiosks TOOK IT ALL. YOU'RE WASTING YOUR TIME.' Etc. to no avail. I ended up giving her my bag of curry-flavored candied peanuts (these, as you might imagine, were not exactly what I thought I was buying when I got them at the store) which she promptly transferred into a ziplock and tried to sell to Mark. We eventually figured out that when we had gathered a sufficient following of Cokawaters we could just stop and wait for an inevitable 20 person German tour group to flow by, and they would fall into the bigger mass like moons to a gas giant so that we could be left relatively at peace for a half hour or so. In all it was a quiet, pleasant, utterly draining day.
--So now I'm home after climbing the Great Wall of China, blogging about the Great Wall of China, and I feel at peace with the experience. All is one, the cycle has been completed. I highly recommend you take a trip out this way to see this place. It's one of those few landmarks that's actually better than you expect it to be in person. Like Yosemite, Paris, and In-N-Out.
--My time in China is beginning to come to a close. There's so much left to see and do, so I might just return in the not-too-distant future. We'll see.
-c
Foreign monsters throng
The green mountains divided
Now go home and blog
I find myself part of a tradition few get to experience. And yet it's immediate familiarity makes me question the very nature of this post. Am I going to just write another blog about how amazing the Great Wall of China is? Really?
--Yes. Yes I am very much. Why? Because it's amazing. Really REALLY amazing. So amazing, in fact, that it has its own cell phone towers just so visitors can call home and say, "Hey, whatcha doin? Oh, laundry? That's nice, but I'M ON THE FREAKING GREAT WALL OF CHINA RIGHT NOW. Seeya." *click* I didn't do that, however I did call my dad and wish him a happy Father's Day. It was Father's Day for me, but it isn't Father's Day for him until right now. Confused? Well, just to be safe, I'll say 'Happy Father's Day dad'! There. That should cover all my bases. So, back to the wall.
--Since this post will be entirely about the Great Wall of China from here on out, and it takes me about three minutes to write 'the Great Wall of China', I'm going to hereby shorten it to UJDWC, which stems from a nickname I gave it at the time (Utterly Jaw-Dropping Wall of China). The UJDWC is so impressive that there were at least three times when I literally gasped audibly. The first was when a swarm of bees flew into our cable car enclosure. The second was when I saw the wall for the first time. And the third was when I realized that there were four near-vertical wall sections between me and the car. It turned out that the bees were more like hornets, and a good frantic screaming scramble to wedge ourselves underneath the benches seemed to ward them off. This slow, creaky, slow cable car system is designed to circumvent the 40 minute road hike up to the entrance. UJDWC is built along mountain ridges, for obvious defensive reasons, so just arriving at the gate doesn't get you even within sighting distance of the one man-made thing that can be seen from space in daylight. We opted for the slow, creaky, slow, dizzyingly high and vulnerable-to-aerial-attack contraption that is half ski-lift and half death-trap to quicken our pace to UJDWC. I think it still took 40 minutes. What's nice is it lets you off at one of the towers, so you go through a 500 year old castle-like structure before the UJDWC is revealed to you in it's treacherous splendor all at once as you emerge from the darkened stone cavern.
--What a day to do this hike. It's 4 miles long, and takes 4 hours. It's a set route along the wall that enables you to hit every major ticket stop before getting to the end. Our driver dropped us off, wrote a note in Chinese, waved, and left. There was some feeling that he would probably be there at the other end when we arrived, but it wasn't completely obvious at that point. We figured that our rockin cell signal would eventually save us.
--UJDWC is in various states of disrepair and newness, and was obviously built by whomever happened upon the site over its lengthy period of construction. Its width, height, slope, lean, stairs, ramps, cobblestones, and towers vary so violently from one patch to another that just keeping yourself from toppling over is a heavy task. And several places are so steep that you crawl up the steps. Also, there are essentially two general types of stairs; ferret-sized and rhino-sized. Why they couldn't just assume that it would be mostly people who used the wall, I don't know. I guess they were just covering all their bases. But it means that any human visitor must use the full capacities of their frontal cortex to correctly place bottom-of-foot onto tread-of-stair, as it is either 3 or 16 inches above or below its previous resting place. We (Matt, Jessica, Mark, and I) must be brilliant, because we managed to get through the four hour hike without more than a single ruptured knee and a slightly broken nose.
--The views of UJDWC from UJDWC are astonishing. I took a million pictures of essentially the same thing in different configurations during the hike, and they can now be seen on flickr in case you're a glutton for punishment. No, seriously, they're awesome.
--What was not awesome was the agonizing brutality of the hike. We were constantly drenched in sweat and locals trying to sell us Cokawaterpostcardtshirt like it was gold nuggets at a clearance sale. One woman actually stood in front of us and watched us eat our packed lunch ready to pounce when it appeared any of us was getting to the bottom of our water. 'Cold Cokawater! Cold Cokawater! Postcardshirt!' 'NO. I have NO MONEY. The UJDWC ticket kiosks TOOK IT ALL. YOU'RE WASTING YOUR TIME.' Etc. to no avail. I ended up giving her my bag of curry-flavored candied peanuts (these, as you might imagine, were not exactly what I thought I was buying when I got them at the store) which she promptly transferred into a ziplock and tried to sell to Mark. We eventually figured out that when we had gathered a sufficient following of Cokawaters we could just stop and wait for an inevitable 20 person German tour group to flow by, and they would fall into the bigger mass like moons to a gas giant so that we could be left relatively at peace for a half hour or so. In all it was a quiet, pleasant, utterly draining day.
--So now I'm home after climbing the Great Wall of China, blogging about the Great Wall of China, and I feel at peace with the experience. All is one, the cycle has been completed. I highly recommend you take a trip out this way to see this place. It's one of those few landmarks that's actually better than you expect it to be in person. Like Yosemite, Paris, and In-N-Out.
--My time in China is beginning to come to a close. There's so much left to see and do, so I might just return in the not-too-distant future. We'll see.
-c
Monday, June 9, 2008
ChinaBlog Day 36
If you will forgive me for a moment, I need to jot something down so I don't ever forget it. (You don't have to read these next couple sentences if you don't want to, but it might serve you well one day. I'm just saying...) Ok, here goes. Note to self: Landlords are nowhere near as frightening as Landlord's wives. End of note.
--There. That will do. I need to remember that for all time. My schedule for Sunday was thus:
8am: Wake up.
9am: Arrive at school (hereafter known by its proper name, B.A.S.E., or BASE for short.)
9am-5pm: Futz around making the BASE website/kill time.
5pm-7pm: Fret nervously about my upcoming meeting/film showing/film approval with Landlord.
7pm-8pm: Wait outside corner market for store owner to finish dinner so he can take me to see Landlord.
8pm: Find that Landlord's wife is home instead of Landlord.
8:00:01pm: Crap pants.
8:00:01-8:07pm: Listen to Store Owner, Guy Who Works at School (via phone), and Landlord's Wife have violent three-directional argument.
8:07pm-8:08pm: Catch phone hurled at head by Landlord's Wife. Hear GWWaS tell me that she does not approve. Does not approve at all. Wonder where my life went so wrong. Beg. Plead. Clutch at skirt hem of Landlord's Wife.
8:08pm-8:10pm: Jump out of way of Landlord returning home. Listen to another angry argument between Landlord, Landlord's Wife, and Store Owner.
8:10pm-8:20pm: Show film to the three from laptop. Try to figure out whether their utter confusion is good or bad. Suddenly get thrown out of house by Landlord and Landlord's Wife.
8:25pm: Have Store Owner point expectedly at the balcony.
8:25pm-10pm: Have GWWaS translate Store Owner's gestures. Project approved by Landlord and Landlord's Wife. Run back to BASE. Gather truckload of equipment and carry it back to balcony on bicycle. Set up rig with help from Store Owner. Frantically press play (on computer), then record (on camera). Watch as people marvel over the spectacle. Wonder where it all went right. Don't ask questions.
--Yep. Hectic day. The townspeople loved the project because it was weird and funny-looking and they recognized people in the film, and recognized where the film was made, and enjoyed looking down on everyone's morning rituals in the square. The Landlords loved it because they could stand down on the ground telling everyone who would listen that it was their building, and thus their project, and thus their idea, and be the centers of attention for a full hour (Parades were thrown in their honor. We'll get to that later). My professors loved it because the event makes all kinds of statements about the nature of time and space, and can cure cancer and make whales more plentiful. And I loved it because it's finished.
--So that's one completely interesting facet of Chinese culture I ran into this week, the other took place just this night. I wasn't kidding about the parade. Today was a Chinese holiday. It's the first time this holiday has ever been celebrated. If you're wondering how they can just invent holidays, I would like to tell you a secret. I personally saw the head of Hallmark leaving out the back door of the Forbidden City just a week ago. Coincidence? Anyway, I was leaving BASE to find a cab, and happened upon a large throng of people cramming their way down the tiny alley that leads to Place to Pick Up Cab. I followed slowly, listening to the amazing horns and watching everyone talk and laugh and follow what I thought was a paper dragon, but turned out to be a life-sized paper horse-drawn carriage. We all stopped at the intersection and I began filming the spectacle: horns, dancing, laughing, horse. When suddenly, to my astonishment, horse burst into flames, and in seconds horse and carriage were engulfed, collapsed, and turned to large burning embers in the sky. Right there on the street. And I got it all on tape! Cool. I'll upload the file to flickr soon. That's all for now. I'm exhausted. Also, go Lakers. Sigh.
-c
--There. That will do. I need to remember that for all time. My schedule for Sunday was thus:
8am: Wake up.
9am: Arrive at school (hereafter known by its proper name, B.A.S.E., or BASE for short.)
9am-5pm: Futz around making the BASE website/kill time.
5pm-7pm: Fret nervously about my upcoming meeting/film showing/film approval with Landlord.
7pm-8pm: Wait outside corner market for store owner to finish dinner so he can take me to see Landlord.
8pm: Find that Landlord's wife is home instead of Landlord.
8:00:01pm: Crap pants.
8:00:01-8:07pm: Listen to Store Owner, Guy Who Works at School (via phone), and Landlord's Wife have violent three-directional argument.
8:07pm-8:08pm: Catch phone hurled at head by Landlord's Wife. Hear GWWaS tell me that she does not approve. Does not approve at all. Wonder where my life went so wrong. Beg. Plead. Clutch at skirt hem of Landlord's Wife.
8:08pm-8:10pm: Jump out of way of Landlord returning home. Listen to another angry argument between Landlord, Landlord's Wife, and Store Owner.
8:10pm-8:20pm: Show film to the three from laptop. Try to figure out whether their utter confusion is good or bad. Suddenly get thrown out of house by Landlord and Landlord's Wife.
8:25pm: Have Store Owner point expectedly at the balcony.
8:25pm-10pm: Have GWWaS translate Store Owner's gestures. Project approved by Landlord and Landlord's Wife. Run back to BASE. Gather truckload of equipment and carry it back to balcony on bicycle. Set up rig with help from Store Owner. Frantically press play (on computer), then record (on camera). Watch as people marvel over the spectacle. Wonder where it all went right. Don't ask questions.
--Yep. Hectic day. The townspeople loved the project because it was weird and funny-looking and they recognized people in the film, and recognized where the film was made, and enjoyed looking down on everyone's morning rituals in the square. The Landlords loved it because they could stand down on the ground telling everyone who would listen that it was their building, and thus their project, and thus their idea, and be the centers of attention for a full hour (Parades were thrown in their honor. We'll get to that later). My professors loved it because the event makes all kinds of statements about the nature of time and space, and can cure cancer and make whales more plentiful. And I loved it because it's finished.
--So that's one completely interesting facet of Chinese culture I ran into this week, the other took place just this night. I wasn't kidding about the parade. Today was a Chinese holiday. It's the first time this holiday has ever been celebrated. If you're wondering how they can just invent holidays, I would like to tell you a secret. I personally saw the head of Hallmark leaving out the back door of the Forbidden City just a week ago. Coincidence? Anyway, I was leaving BASE to find a cab, and happened upon a large throng of people cramming their way down the tiny alley that leads to Place to Pick Up Cab. I followed slowly, listening to the amazing horns and watching everyone talk and laugh and follow what I thought was a paper dragon, but turned out to be a life-sized paper horse-drawn carriage. We all stopped at the intersection and I began filming the spectacle: horns, dancing, laughing, horse. When suddenly, to my astonishment, horse burst into flames, and in seconds horse and carriage were engulfed, collapsed, and turned to large burning embers in the sky. Right there on the street. And I got it all on tape! Cool. I'll upload the file to flickr soon. That's all for now. I'm exhausted. Also, go Lakers. Sigh.
-c
Saturday, June 7, 2008
ChinaBlog Day 34
I've spent the last few days mired in a series of inexplicable and frustrating legal technicalities. I'm quite enthusiastic about my project, I think it will lead to a good line of inquiry, and I am very close to finishing the data-gathering segment of the show. One last step remains, to go up onto the balcony from whence I previously shot my footage and project that same footage onto the ground that I filmed at the beginning of the week. The idea is to re-introduce a previous space and time into this village square, and see what effect the new ground plane/time period/point of view will have on the people passing through it. Ideally, they would return from whence they came, encountering their morning selves from above in the evening. Ok, that may have been a little confusing, I'll admit. But it makes sense once you see it.
--The biggest problem, which also is not a problem at all, is that I have no idea what the result will be, and thus have trouble explaining exactly why I am doing all this. I just know in my gut that it'll be worthwhile. The second and most disruptive problem is that the landlord of the building where rests my balcony has significant issues with my existence on this planet, and would like very much for me to shove off and not be heard from again. Perhaps with fanfare and a bottle of Chablis. This, of course, runs antithetical to my end goals, which, as stated above, are nebulous at best. In a world forgotten by time In any case, One Man stood between me and world domination completing my project.
--Step one: Go to the bank. Withdraw 500 Yuan. Cry. Return to school.
--Step two: Find an envelope. Stuff money in. Cry.
--Step three: Convince Guy Who Works at School to translate for me.
--Step four: Go to landlord. Tap on shoulder. Ahem.
--Step five: Stand back while GWWaS explains the nebulous premise of my nebulous project to landlord.
--Step six: Bite fingernails.
--Step seven: Recognize that landlord is beginning to look less obstinate.
--Step eight: Realize that they are finished talking and looking at you with your bloody fingernails.
--Step nine: Listen to GWWaS tell you that you have permission to do your project.
--Step ten: Wonder when you need to give money to landlord. Wink. Nudge.
--Step eleven: Listen to GWWaS yell at you for bringing envelope full of cash along. Return to school.
--Step twelve: Yay.
--In case that wasn't absolutely clear, I got my permission, did not have to fork over a bribe (the landlord was actually quite reasonable in the end), and will complete my project tomorrow night (Sunday, June 8th, 2008, in case any of you want to come see). Phew. That was tough. I may still have to buy him a carton of cigarettes or a nice bottle of Chinese wine after I'm done. Actually, if I had given him money during the initial talk, it would have seemed to him that I am trying to do something illegal. Instead, I will give him a 'gift' after everything is over. So, a well spent day. I'll let you know how it goes after tomorrow's festivities. I think the townies will get a kick out of it. We'll see. Also, there's a small chance I may end up in prison. But probably not. I'll carry my passport with me just in case.
-c
--The biggest problem, which also is not a problem at all, is that I have no idea what the result will be, and thus have trouble explaining exactly why I am doing all this. I just know in my gut that it'll be worthwhile. The second and most disruptive problem is that the landlord of the building where rests my balcony has significant issues with my existence on this planet, and would like very much for me to shove off and not be heard from again. Perhaps with fanfare and a bottle of Chablis. This, of course, runs antithetical to my end goals, which, as stated above, are nebulous at best. In a world forgotten by time In any case, One Man stood between me and world domination completing my project.
--Step one: Go to the bank. Withdraw 500 Yuan. Cry. Return to school.
--Step two: Find an envelope. Stuff money in. Cry.
--Step three: Convince Guy Who Works at School to translate for me.
--Step four: Go to landlord. Tap on shoulder. Ahem.
--Step five: Stand back while GWWaS explains the nebulous premise of my nebulous project to landlord.
--Step six: Bite fingernails.
--Step seven: Recognize that landlord is beginning to look less obstinate.
--Step eight: Realize that they are finished talking and looking at you with your bloody fingernails.
--Step nine: Listen to GWWaS tell you that you have permission to do your project.
--Step ten: Wonder when you need to give money to landlord. Wink. Nudge.
--Step eleven: Listen to GWWaS yell at you for bringing envelope full of cash along. Return to school.
--Step twelve: Yay.
--In case that wasn't absolutely clear, I got my permission, did not have to fork over a bribe (the landlord was actually quite reasonable in the end), and will complete my project tomorrow night (Sunday, June 8th, 2008, in case any of you want to come see). Phew. That was tough. I may still have to buy him a carton of cigarettes or a nice bottle of Chinese wine after I'm done. Actually, if I had given him money during the initial talk, it would have seemed to him that I am trying to do something illegal. Instead, I will give him a 'gift' after everything is over. So, a well spent day. I'll let you know how it goes after tomorrow's festivities. I think the townies will get a kick out of it. We'll see. Also, there's a small chance I may end up in prison. But probably not. I'll carry my passport with me just in case.
-c
Monday, June 2, 2008
ChinaBlog Day 30
I'm amazed at the sequence of events that led me to this place. It is 7:30 in the morning, and I'm huddled on a stranger's balcony overlooking the main square of Caochangdi village outside of Beijing. Freezing to death. Between me and the torrential, icy stare of mother nature is a cotton shirt one size too small and the acceptance that I may have overlooked a few items during my morning gatherings. In my defense, it is the third day of June and this is the first of this weather I have encountered in Beijing. At the overcast crack of dawn it looked like I'd be good to videotape the village's morning routines, but my camera has long ago scampered into the driest corner it could find, useless. I arrived at my elevated perch one hour before, having cleared the permissions with owners of the nearby apartment. I set up my very much not waterproof (nor even mistproof) camera pointing down at the square, anxiously awaiting the explosion of activity that signals each workday's hello. Rocking back on my heels with a whistle, I waved confidently at some passers-by who had noticed the camera and sat down on a little plastic stool next to the tripod. Just as I began to hate myself for not bringing a book a frigid, sloppy splash shook me from my silent contemplation of a strange black bug on the railing. You would think that would be the point at which I realized I was in trouble. Instead, I did the next obvious thing, which was to hold my backpack over the camera in the accumulating rain with the vain hope of it letting up before my arms fell off. It was only after I had sapped every ounce of strength keeping the ever-weightier sack over this tiny piece of electronics that was now recording absolutely no one down below that I began to question my decisions on this matter. With a tremendously heavy heart, I shut down the feed and waltzed my backpack-over-tripod into the only spot completely sheltered by the small eve above. I slid my sopping stool as far clear of the stinging torrent as was possible, and sank onto it with a splash.
--Now I'm just waiting. Waiting for Mother to drain her fury. Waiting for people to return to their outdoor lives. Waiting for any bit of clear so I can try to salvage this utterly bizarre morning. A few minutes ago an elderly lady who lives in the apartment behind me came out to gave my soggy bones a sympathetic smile. A pity poncho would be more useful. I tried to explain that to her, but my limited vocabulary of 'hello', 'goodbye', 'right turn', 'left turn', 'straight ahead', and 'I am an American' only caused her to frown ruefully while slowly clicking the door shut in my face. The few people braving the slop below haven't taken notice of my plight, but that's kind of the point. I'm on my own, and it's just a matter of principle whether or not I pack up and leave this ice cave. So, to kill time before my inevitable defeat, I imagine the incredible sequence of events that led me to this moment.
--Sure, I woke up this morning with my camera charged and nothing but filming on the agenda. But if I'd checked the weather, I would have avoided much of this problem by bringing an umbrella. That would have been sure to guarantee not a single drop of rain. But before even that, I chose to come to Beijing for my thesis instead of staying home to work on it. And before that I made the decision to do a project concerning the movement of people. Before that I was led down the path towards a thesis by attending SCI-Arc, and I chose to go there because of my interest in architecture and my love of Los Angeles. But I could not have begun my studies in this field without an undergraduate degree from UCLA, the opportunity for which was provided me because of the emphasis on higher learning of my high school. But I would not have attended such a place had my parents not known early on how incredibly important a strong education can be. So, in other words, I am shivering in the corner of this drenched metal balcony jotting sloppy wet smudges into my sketchbook, watching the increasingly angry rain inch ever closer to my hiding place, all because of the diligent upbringing of my wonderful parents. Thanks guys, I wouldn't be here without you. :)
-c
--Now I'm just waiting. Waiting for Mother to drain her fury. Waiting for people to return to their outdoor lives. Waiting for any bit of clear so I can try to salvage this utterly bizarre morning. A few minutes ago an elderly lady who lives in the apartment behind me came out to gave my soggy bones a sympathetic smile. A pity poncho would be more useful. I tried to explain that to her, but my limited vocabulary of 'hello', 'goodbye', 'right turn', 'left turn', 'straight ahead', and 'I am an American' only caused her to frown ruefully while slowly clicking the door shut in my face. The few people braving the slop below haven't taken notice of my plight, but that's kind of the point. I'm on my own, and it's just a matter of principle whether or not I pack up and leave this ice cave. So, to kill time before my inevitable defeat, I imagine the incredible sequence of events that led me to this moment.
--Sure, I woke up this morning with my camera charged and nothing but filming on the agenda. But if I'd checked the weather, I would have avoided much of this problem by bringing an umbrella. That would have been sure to guarantee not a single drop of rain. But before even that, I chose to come to Beijing for my thesis instead of staying home to work on it. And before that I made the decision to do a project concerning the movement of people. Before that I was led down the path towards a thesis by attending SCI-Arc, and I chose to go there because of my interest in architecture and my love of Los Angeles. But I could not have begun my studies in this field without an undergraduate degree from UCLA, the opportunity for which was provided me because of the emphasis on higher learning of my high school. But I would not have attended such a place had my parents not known early on how incredibly important a strong education can be. So, in other words, I am shivering in the corner of this drenched metal balcony jotting sloppy wet smudges into my sketchbook, watching the increasingly angry rain inch ever closer to my hiding place, all because of the diligent upbringing of my wonderful parents. Thanks guys, I wouldn't be here without you. :)
-c
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