Take-Aways

Up in Wudang Shan

celinexiaolin — Sat, 5 Sep 2009 21:54:00 GMT

Work is bringing me down. I do not enjoy it. To the point that I have let it affect all aspects of my life. No more. I am here because I love this country and feeling depressed is no excuse for stopping to explore it. So after a few lazy months we managed to get back on the road for a weekend. Destination: Wudang shan. One of the sacred mountains of China and the birthplace of Taichi. Wudang shan (mountain) is in Hubei province, near Xiangfan where we had to fly to. This is where the closest airport is about 1-2 hours drive away - allowing for traffic - from the mountain. I thought Xiangfan was going to be a little town in the middle of nowhere but it turns out it is one of the car manufacture centres of China. The road from the airport is lined with car showrooms. Peugeot, Skoda, even Buick are vying for their space. After Shanghai's steaming weather, we felt as though we had travelled forward to late autumn but it turns out it was like that only for one evening. For the remainder of our stay it was cool and crisp but certainly not cold. The feel of nature after months in a city that is a building site with drills screaming away late into the night is an immense joy and relief. Walking around the hills among the temples, even though the trail is very tame and organised gave me a huge sense of freedom. I love the mountains. Even though I was raised near the sea, it is the mountains that really make me feel at peace.

Best of all was the taichi lesson at the crack of dawn on a landing near one of the temples. Taichi is beautiful and serene and despite Chinese popular belief not worthy just for old people. To me, it is moving meditation. If only I could commit to waking early enough when I am back in the city to join the old guys in the park. A difficult task when I only manage to fall out of bed in time to rush to work.

Sometimes it feels that when you have seen a temple you have seen them all. But here the temples are all in an amazing setting, hanging off the cliff or made of gold at the top of the mountain. Here there are fortune tellers one of which seems to be quite famous. It was worth having my fortune told as it turns out I have Buddha's eye somewhere on my right thumb. This is good as hopefully it means that every difficulty I will ever encounter is surmountable. Also it would seem that I may someday be an official's wife (not be an official myself mind you). A fortune teller tells you your fate by several methods: they can look at the lines in your hands, use your date and time of birth and finally look at the shape of your face. When reading me, he seemed only confident when looking at my hands. The time difference (since I was not born in China) and my non-Chinese face threw him a little bit. A big nose means money but since "all foreigners have big noses"........ we skew the reading. I choose to believe that my nose is big enough for me to qualify, even though the scar I have on it means that I can lose it very suddently.

Wudang shan is a Unesco heritage sight but it seems relatively spared from the massive hoards of tourists. The weather at the top of the Golden Temple is known to be erratic but we were lucky to be able to enjoy a crisp, clear view far into the horizon.

Other than the 40 person plane we took to go there and the 4 hour delay coming back, it was a blissfuly successful weekend trip.

Settling in Shanghai

celinexiaolin — Tue, 19 May 2009 18:28:00 GMT

Settling in Shanghai is taking a while. Between the whole city being a building site in preparation for the World Expo, the boyfriend and I commuting between Beijing and Shanghai to see each other and the work driving me suicidal, I miss Beijing. Desperately.

Luckily, there is the French Concession. The leafy streets with the colonial villas, the local cobblers, markets, food stalls and the very trendy restaurants and caffes can ease the mind and body very quickly. I think I could live forever in the French concession. Particularly since I have my ballet and yoga class around the corner from the house.

Shanghai is also full of foreigners. There are so many foreigners who think they know China just because they know Shanghai. Would I love China as much if I only knew Shanghai? I doubt it. Would I like Chinese food as much if I did not Guangzhou? I doubt it even more. One can say anything they like about Guangzhou. It's messy, it's sticky, it's loud but nowhere in China is the food as good.

Still, it is very easy to live here. A dash of exoticism with all the comforts of home.

The climate though is appalling. If it's not steaming hot it's raining. Downpours that flood the streets and make the taxis disappear....and no heating in the winter.

But we do have warm crisp bread and elegant restaurants. It's just that every now and then I have to force myself to go and look for China.

I miss China.

I miss chicken feet and 1000 year old eggs. Not the smelliest French cheese can rival stinky tofu.

I miss this bsurd language, where everything sounds the same and the word shi can mean ten, yes, lion, to be, business and matters. I miss the soppy karaoke songs.

I miss the Cantonese that are aliens even to the rest of China. I have never felt as isolated, autistic or surrounded by a fishbowl as I was in Guangzhou. Nobody spoke English, there were no pictures on the menus and you could buy starfish in the supermarket. This was a place where where you could flag down a motorcycle for a ride - until they banned them, that is - order your food at the zoo that every respectable restaurant keeps and be surrounded by sights, smells and noises that cannot be identified. But Guangzhou is also where the "Mediterraneans" of China are, loud, welcoming and noisy.

Then, there was Beijing. There is magic in Beijing. It is both the most human and inhuman city in China.

The scale is inhuman. What looks like a two block walk on a map is easily a 40 minute trekk. Tian An Men, the city's heartless heart is like an immense desert, an endless flatland. But within this city there is humanity to spare. One street behind Tian An men and you are suddently propelled in a turn of the century provincial village. Complete with local barber, market and free ranging chicken. Beijing, the "cool" one but with a coolness that needs not prove itself. Cool with class. I miss its lakes and parks and vibrant art scene. Its thousand year old history and futuristic architecture. I miss my little hutong house. I even miss the cabbies in their uniforms and friendly chit chat.

Shanghai has lots to offer. I am learning to love it also. I am learning to get out of the usual expat haunts and look for the dodgy food streets and the local tailor. We are now cycling to everywhere we go and this does make the city all the more fun nd interesting.

Cycling to Lupu bridge to see the Expo site. Cycling to the flower market to get dirt to repot the house plants. Cycling to work. Cycling randomly in the city, there is still lots to discover about mythical Shanghai frenetically preparing for its World Expo moment. Surrepticiously, like those sleek tongued charmers who you know will break your heart, it is very quickly winning me over

It's all about change

celinexiaolin — Wed, 5 Nov 2008 19:30:00 GMT

Nothing is for ever. I did think though that Beijing would be at least the next 2 years for me. It seems not as the winds of change and my very insistant bosses are now moving me to Shanghai.

Be careful what you wish for is the most useful caution I have ever heard. How many times have I been in Shanghai wishing I was one of those very sleek and sophisticated locals, eating French bread and being as far from China in the middle of swanky Xin Tian Di as downtown Manhattan might be. It's happening in 3 weeks. And ungrateful that I am, I dread it.

It is absolutely true that Beijing is at its best in autumn. The air is crisp and clear, the sky ultra-blue and the leaves all colours of the rainbow. It's only been six months but my hutong home is really a home. The old lady next door is a friend and the local restaurant no longer waits for me to order before they bring the food. I am swapping English lessons for Chinese with the kids in Coffee Republic in the office lobby and I just think Beijing is great!

I do not want to leave.

Where else can I have the Forbidden City and Tian An Men as my immediate neighbours, the vast avenues, great parks, the duck and the Heating! Too much taken for granted. Too much as yet to explore. Luckily, - not for our personal life but at least for our exploring one - we will be running a two home household for a while. Our hutong in lovely tree lined, local Nanchizi and whatever I will end up finding in sleek, noisy and emminently expat-run-amock Shanghai.

Seems it only took so little to make me a "real" Beijinger, I already feel entitled to bad-mouth Shanghai

In South Korea

celinexiaolin — Mon, 6 Oct 2008 13:31:00 GMT

I will forever associate South Korea with the smell of fish. Cooked, raw, caramelised, rotten, in brine and in kimchi, in filthy and clean aquariums, in markets and in soups. And if I had to eat another seaweed I would turn into a fish myself.

And this, despite the fact that I had what were probably some of the best meat dishes I have ever had to deal with. Barbecued on coals and a hotplate right at the table. Stirred in a massive paella style flat pan with cabbage, chilly paste and eaten wrapped around lettuce and sesame leaves with plenty of assorted onions and garlic. Hungry just thinking about it and I have already had lunch.

South Korea is green, surprisingly rural and quite understated. The people seem a far cry of the image of neurotic crammers that I at least have associated them with.

In Seoul, the 1988 Olympic Green is an immense park filled with families flying kites, relaxing, playing sports and generally having a pretty normal Saturday afternoon.

The fashion in the streets is mainly grey and black with lost of “suits” walking around but then there is a coffee shop at every corner and more and the restaurants and DVD rooms are filled with people socializing.

Seoul is one open street market with street stalls selling everything from silkworm larvae to figs to hot dogs wrapped with something else and seaweed.

The most surprising thing of all though is an all pervading love of nature which manifests itself through the countless outdoor gear shops in every town, the impeccable national parks, the gorgeous coasts of the east side of the peninsula and the middle aged ladies and not a few grannies hiking up vertical paths all over the place.

South Koreans are curt, a little without expression to start with but very friendly when engaged, even with their non-existent English. In fact, the language barrier is not a barrier at all and with a few grunts and gestures we made our way with no trouble whatsoever across Chungeong, Shokso, Soreaksan, Gyengjiu (I think) and a few other unpronounceable places managing to be fed, watered and generally catered for, more than adequately. If I could only have one request ………. Next time, go a little bit easy on the seaweed!

The Paralympics

celinexiaolin — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 12:25:00 GMT

The Olympics are over and despite the hangover in the city the preparations are already on for the Paralympics. Niu Niu or whatever the little ox mascot is called is replacing the 5 "Fuwas" of the Olympics at breakneck speed, on the buildings around Wangfujin, in the China Bank outlets and at the hotels where the delegations will be staying. Even the Adidas stores, the temples of these games have swaped the designs for the Paralympic versions.

For us it is an opportunity to go to some of the venues that we hadn't been to before like the paparazzied "Cube" and take our friends Ethel and Jorge on a tour of the Olympic Green.

We have abused it. We have tickets to Wheelchair basketball and Athletics on Saturday, Tennis on Sunday and Wheelchair Fencing, Wheelchair Archery and Swimming on the Monday.

These games are definitely the China Games. Even more so than the Olympics. Gone is the order and the tidiness. It is one big mass of people pushing through for everything. These are the real people's games. Shoving through endless queues, battling for seats, shoving through teh crowds in the Olympic Green. Actually, there was a blatant disregard of making the spectator experience a special one. But these where also different from the summer Olympics in other more subtle ways. There is more sporting feeling I guess. More backing up of all the athletes. The summer Olympics pump the adrenalin, the Paralympics engage the heart.

It also without question the most formidable display of the human spirit. After a while you even forget that they have handicaps. I certainly forgot at tennis. It was fabulous. Fast, competitive and fun. The only difference being that the players were in wheelchairs and had to let the ball bounce twice.

For sure the Paralympics are not the same as the Summer Olympics but they probably are the ones that best embody the spirit of fair play, solidarity and friendship of the Olympic movement.

The electricity in the air was lesser but the participation, a kind of accessibility to the larger number was stronger.

I have now become a confirmed Olympic junkie.

Company trip to Japan

celinexiaolin — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 12:06:00 GMT

Unbelievable! It is customary in China at least in our industry, to go on a company trip abroad that does not involve any work whatsoever. To my delight, we all voted for Japan. A combined Osaka, Kyoto trip that, as these things do, ended up beeing timed exactly when my friends were coming over from Guangzhou to go with us to the Paralympics. Classic!

Luckily we arranged it so we could come back a day earlier than the others and arrive at the airport at the same time as Ethel and Jorge on the Friday.

Sadly this meant no Kyoto for me, but two and a half days worth of Osaka. Believe it or not, everyone in the office wanted to go to Japan to shop. Japan, famous for being the most expensive country on earth is actually shoppers paradise for the Chinese. A week before the trip everyone was staying late in the office to download pages of shopping lists, descriptions of cosmetics and generally anticipating a major shopping spree which considering that everything is made in China anyway, came as quite a big surprise.

And so, off we went on Wednesday morning for our flight to Osaka from Beijing's Terminal 3. Incidentally my favourite terminal in the world. It looks like a huge dome of a sky, just like being in the Australian outback. The flight is about 3 hours long and we arrive to a practically deserted airport. Again, not conforming to my stereotype of a Japan where employees have to shove people in trains, they are so crowded. First stop Osaka castle. A green, white and gold layered cake-looking building where even the moat walls look "Japanese" style curved and slanted. And then off to Dotonburi, the pedestrian shopping and food street.

First thing about Osaka. It is very modern. It is also very quiet. It is busy and animated and trendy but hushed. I guess coming from China where everything is noise, the contrast is very strong. The people are also impossibly well turned out and groomed. Not a hair is out of place and make-up is applied in a very sophisticated way, even by the men, well, some of them.

So off we wondered to the sounds of Rokotoro miko buto koro or something like that which is what Japanese sounded to me. Surprisingly very few people speak English. And they do all go "Hai" = Yes/OK every few sentences. They are actually very friendly, smiley and polite and talk at you constantly even though it is clear you do not understand a word. I loved it. Yet again like descending on a very polite version of Mars. The young are uber trendy and some really push the boundaries of what anyone would consider weareable. Big poofy hair, impossibly long nails, frills, socks over shoes under tights, inside underwear. Anything goes really. Exactly like big dolls dressed by a 3 year old. Quite fun!

The experience travelling with the entire office was quite dull in that we ended up constantly waiting for people to finish off their purchases but on the couple ocassions where we had a few free hours, it was heaven. In fact I had the best experience culinary and cultural experience ever, on an afternoon of sneaking away from the pack in Dotonburi. Other highlights include going up the floating garden tower to look at a magnificent sunset view of Osaka, wondering around trendy and modern Umeda and seeing the seedier side of nightlife in some dodgy area of Shin Osaka that looked very much like a red light district where unbelievably our second hotel was - cost cutting how you command us -. All in all just an appetizer for future incursion to Japan. My appetite is whetted !!!!!!

Qingdao by the Sea

celinexiaolin — Tue, 2 Sep 2008 17:09:00 GMT

The Chinese are amazing. Already right after the Olympics and even before the Paralympics the Qingdao Sailing venue has been transformed into an Olympic Exhibition Centre. Maximising the use out of everything. Smart. Effective.

Qingdao is really like being in Europe. A city sized in human scale - at least in the old town - tree lined streets, villas, churches, terasses to have lunch and dinner in. The famous or infamous brewery.

It is a lovely city, especially by Chinese standards. Despite the weather, which was foul or even the live seal that was stored in a pool in one of the restaurants along the coast that I still hope against hope was not waiting to be eaten it is a real summer town. Not so much Mediterranean as British. It felt like Brighton. Built along the coast, grey, windy, lined with two-storied houses. Still, a nap on the beach with the city as backdrop is what I would deem a perfect weekend.

There is a pedestrian pathway that takes you along the coast and the city, 40km's worth. I think we only managed about 10k, if that. Then came the beach snooze and after that it started raining. At that point we thought that the cinema might have been a good option. Luckily all movies were in Chinese, even Hulk, the only possible choice (I can't believe I would have watched that). It made us look for another option.

The Food atrium sounded like a plan. And it was. It's like a Disneyland creation dedicated to food. A gallery with reconstructed old buildings of Qingdao housing all types of restaurant. Rain and cold made it that hotpot was the preferred option. Yummy! They even gave us a coupon for the Cabaret across the alley. Scary! Acrobats, a drag queen singing Chinese opera (painful), some rappers drinking bottles of Qingdao beer in one go, a comedy act with the obligatory guy dressed in skirts and rollers in the hair and a guy from Xinjiang (the North-West part of China that could hit highnotes like Mariah Carey. I never knew that the Chinese are that into mixing gendres and cross-dressing. The crowd of friends, couples, even families with young children was very appreciative. It felt like we stayed there hours. I think it may have been 21.30 when we left. The day after was absolutely foul. Windy, rainy and giving us a good excuse to hang out in Starbucks and a shopping mall. Still it seemed a shame not to go to the old town. So we did. I have to hand it to the poor bride and her groom trying to take pictures in front of St Michaels church. She was laughing at the wind messing up her veil, the rain staining her dress and the cold. With such optimism against adversity, I would have married her.

The Governor's house, the old residence, the protestant church and catholic cathedral are so European I felt at home and the views across to the sea are a joy.

So Qingdao, I will come back. And this time the mission is to actually have a swim and test the sea.

Back in Beijing I could have sworn that it had been summer all weekend. I am starting to see why people say autumn is the best time in the city. Particularly now that already we are gearing up for the Paralympics.

Athletics, the star of the Games

celinexiaolin — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 16:50:00 GMT

Saving the best for last, we are went into the Central Olympic Green on Sunday night. Finally the Bird's Nest and the Cube, up close and personal. The whole Green looks like a make-believe city. Like an architect's design come to life. Perfect! And facing each other are the two stars of the Games, in primary colors. Red and steel for the Bird's Nest and Blue for the Cube and beyond that all the other venues all the way to where the eyes can see.

It's a magical stadium. I was not sure I liked it. The steel entwined felt like chains to me. But close up it is much more "designy" than even the pictures will allow. Futuristic almost, with star shaped chandeliers and the dominating red. This red is the true coloiur of these Games. It's everywhere. In China's flag, in the athletes outfits, in the logo itself and now in the stadium.

Inside it's huge and feels confined, closed up, in a coccoon, a Nest even from within and from where I was sitting I could not see the flame. You can only see it from the one half of the stadium. In fact you cannot see the flame even from the outside. You have to go quite far away to see it and then only at certain angles.

Finally, a full venue! The atmosphere was outstanding and there was excitement in the air. There is so much light, we could be in daylight and more. Tonight we are here for Women's 100M, 100M and 400 hurdles, 3,000M steeple, triple jump, Men's hammer throw, High Jump and 10,000 Metre.

It lasts roughly 4 hours and you are never bored. There is always something going on at one end of the stadium or the other with the ocasional medal ceremony thrown in.

Of course by the time it came round to the 10,000 meter race there was just a fraction of the audience there. 10pm is way passed an average Chinese person's bedtime. To the point where the Women's 100m medal ceremony had to be rescheduled to the next day. Undoubtedly it is a bit sad to get a medal when there is hardly anyone there to see you receive it.

Without question it is at night that both the Nest and the Cube come to their full glory. Lit up, they shine like all sorts of precious stones. The grounds were practically empty and we had the magical Olympic Green to ourselves just for a few moments before heading down to Sanlitun and the joys of Bar street.

Beach Volley and the World Premiere of Marco Polo's imaginary journey

celinexiaolin — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 13:42:00 GMT

Saturday August 16th. Sunny at last! After a few days of rain and grey skies, the day is bright and shiny. A perfect day for the beach, or at least for beach volley. Beach volley is in Chaoyang Park, on the east side of the city. Since nothing is done by halves here and size does matter, Chaoyang is Beijing's largest urban park.

To the disapointment of my two male companions we were there for the Men's final 16s. Luckily the "beach girl" cheerleaders in white bikinis helped to alleviate their pain and use up lots of their camera memory.

Beach volley is a great spectator sport as undoubtedly the atmosphere absolutely rocks. Between the loud music, the girls dancing and the sand it has got a holiday feel to it and it seems as though the sea is never too far away. We got here to see US, Germany, Georgia and Netherlands win over Switzerland, China, Austria and Australia respectively.

Some highlights: the crowds cheering like crazy for Georgia, the stadium being reduced to 30% capacity as soon as the Chinese team got eliminated and the glorious sunshine. And lets not forget the cheerleaders. Bouncy, with different routines each time and fans, caps of ribons for jazzing up the technical stops and the timeouts.

Another highlight was the Ozzie kangaroo dressed spectator running up to the higher seats where a whole huge team of Dutch people dressed in their typical orange and blue took him in their midst - and did not beat the crap out of him - while their teams were thrashing it out in the court.

After a day of sports, we also had planned an evening of art. The venue was the National Centre for the arts in Tian An Men West. A magical, UFO-like structure surrounded by water and reflecting the colours of the sky. A very zen-like approach which is somewhat spoiled by the feel of airport departures that prevails inside. Crowds, security checks and a big wide tunnel under the lake make it look and feel like a terminal in the lost city of Atlantis.

I do not know why this performance was labeled as a multimedia musical drama. It was ballet at its best. Ballet on steroids. Improbable movements, amazing dancers, Bejart's "Mare Nostrum" on the Silk Road. I had forgotten that dance is supposed to be like this. That in this, the year of the Olympics, a dancer is still the most complete and perfect athlete and artist.

The Archery Fields

celinexiaolin — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 12:00:00 GMT

Yesterday was pouring down with rain. One of those weird days that prompted the comment that BOCOC had tampered with the weather to ensure that it would be nice on the 15th, the first day of Athletics in the Bird's Nest. This morning's sunny sky would seem to corroborate this allegation.

At any rate, yesterday, the sky was grey, the temperature considerably lower than usual and I had no umbrella. We left the office at 15.00 heading for the Olympic Green and more precisely the Archery Green.

On the map the venues succeed one another and everything seems easily accessible. It is. But it does not recon with the huge size of Olympic Green. We drove past the Cube, past the Fencing Hall and after the enormous International Braoadcasting Centre and Main Press Centre. Then came driving round the entire Olympic village, a trendy complex of flats, decorated with the world's flags, until our taxi offloaded us at the entrance of hokey, archery and tennis. Time to get wet in the line of people waiting to get in. As ever well prepared plastic raincoats were provided in pastel colors that made the spectators look like candy in the stadium.

It was the women's Archery Finals. A whole stand was dominated by Koreans well organised to support their champions. It's fun to watch. Quarterfinals, Semi-finals and Finals succeeded each other fast enough under the pouring rain that drove no one away. 12 arrows per match decide the outcome of the game. And although Korea was the favourite, ultimately winning the silver and bronze, it was China that won the day.

Chilled to the bone, we watched the medal ceremony with the extatic crowd. The Chinese champion who barely made it through the qualifiers, congratulated her oponents, exactly like every other Chinese gold medal winner, they have been well coached on this. On the victory lap she threw her bunch of flowers to the crowd and bit in her gold medal for the photographers.

Today is a gorgeous day. The men archers will be luckier. No frozen fingers for them. Also, undoubtedly it will be a crystal clear debut for the Bird's Nest. As planned? :)

The Beijing Olympics

celinexiaolin — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 20:33:00 GMT

Finally the Olympics have started. We are all cought up in the excitement of the city. Gone are the complaints about lengthy and laborious visa procedures, extra security checks and policemen at every corner. Foreign faces are again on the rise and bandanas, flags or stickers on the face are de rigueur.

Beijing has put on its party face and everything is coming together as China dreamt.....except perhaps the weather. Not a blue sky in site. Yet again, nature proves that with the best planning in the world, not everything can be controlled.

There is not an office building or shopping centre that does not have a board that tallies the medal count for all to follow. There is not a street or street corner without a volunteer. Some are sponsor-attired, others are the official BOCOC volunteers. Regardless they are everywhere. I have been told that some sponsors - naming no names have closed their offices for the duration of the games and have asked their employees to man the streets. Does that still come under voluntary service? Probably, as everyone is happy to help and get involved somehow.

Tian An Men square was closed off completely in the run up to the games and the day of the opening was a public holiday. But the other night everyone seemed to have assembled there for a stroll. And on the night of the opening the firecrackers lit the the sky as bright as daylight.

Not everyone watched it. There were taxis and people still in the street at 5 minutes to the opening. And at the end, in our area around the Forbidden city, everybody poured out to catch whatever they could of the pandemonium of fire. Not that we could go anywhere near, as policemen were bloking the way to the square. Part of the exemplary crowd control in evidence everywhere.

On Sunday I was able to catch site of the flame, the cube and the birds nest since we had tickets to the water polo. We watched Canada vs. Spain, Hyngary vs. Montenegro (both of which had a huge turnout of nationally attired supporters) and Germany vs. Serbia. But for a last minute change of schedule, we would have watched Greece vs. Australia. But it was not to be.

The atmosphere in the natatorium was great until we were submerged in Hungarians. There were drum players for the intervals and then the mascots made an appearance, which was fun. Beijing has yet to find its trademark sound though like the sirtaki was in the Athens Games. It will come!

At any rate, looking forward to more events next weekend. Watch this space!!!

Gallery: Beijing 2008 Olympic Games

celinexiaolin — Fri, 8 Aug 2008 20:08:00 GMT

3 days in the name of solidarity

celinexiaolin — Mon, 19 May 2008 14:15:00 GMT

A billion people nation coming to a standstill to pay tribute to the 34,000 people that died in the Sichuan quake on May 12th 2008 is very powerful to experience. From our office, 3 metro stops away and in a straight line from Tian an Men square we could see traffic coming to a standstill, office employees standing to attention and on TV the flags flying at half mast. It is not so much the fact that such a fitting tribute is being paid in light of such a catastrophe as the momentum it acquired since day one. For us who cannot read or understand the local news, evidence of solidarity has been manifest and we have come across it in most unexpected ways. Aside from today's 3 minutes of silence where the only thing that could be heard in Beijing was sirens and car horns, there is a 3 day mourning period starting from today. I work in advertising and the first thing I heard about it was an email from the boss to the whole office asking us to ensure that no advertising would go on air on radio or TV during the next 3 days. Apparently this is a governmental edict. Judging by tonight's programming which is a kind of a news/telethon extravaganza identical on every single Beijing channel, I guess it would be unseemly for any advertiser to take advantage of any sort of viewing patterns. At any rate, no one has the choice to make the faux pas.

On a more personal note I find it very interesting that we no longer get HBO and Cinemax at the hotel. Instead the black and white screen carries a notice; "according to an announcement of the State Council of the PRC, May 19-21, are national mourning days. In order to express our heartfelt condolences for the victims of the disastrous earthquake in Sichuan, we will suspend the relay of overseas channels that contain entertainment programs during the above period". It's not that I mind it. It's more that I am surprised by it. By the intervention, I guess. By the fact that I am being taught a lesson of loss even at this most superficial level. By the fact that someone interferes in this very trivial of things as what I can watch or not for entertainment.

A nation of a billion people standing still is impressive indeed. What's even more impressive is the lines we saw at the mobile blood bank in Wangfujing - Beijing's central shopping street - all young people ready to give that most personal, simple and useful gift of self.

The power of "critical mass" in action is unforgettable.

Our home in Beijing

celinexiaolin — Fri, 16 May 2008 17:30:00 GMT

We found it. Forget the lavish apartments, the fancy penthouse, the 160 square metre complex. Our residence is going to be a tiny little hutong. A traditional Chinese courtyard. Our neighbours are a lovely old temple, Tian An Men and unbelievably the Forbidden City itself.

It took 4 days to stumble across it. Four days of agents, viewings, comparisons, making and receiving calls. At one point we even had 2 different agents take us to the same place and the owner pretending he had never seen us before – probably having violated some sort of exclusivity agreement and ducking around it.

The Beijinger online proved invaluable. It’s even been at the source of a lovely tea tasting afternoon today…but that is another story.

Hutongs are the traditional old neighbourhoods and houses structured around a courtyard where one or more families live. They tend to be badly heated, inconvenient, with some layouts requiring you to cross the open aired courtyard to go from the bedroom to the bathroom and the living room to the kitchen. They were the old houses of the people of rank and nobility that had the privilege of being allowed to live near the Emperor’s home. They are exclusive to central Beijing and until recently they were being torn down at rapid rates. It seems though that their value is rediscovered and to rent one costs as much if not more than a super flat in the new developments.

Still, our home is going to be a hutong. One little gem with a garret and a skylight, small but with modern conveniences. A doll’s house.

And tomorrow is the ritual of the tenancy agreement signing. Three more weeks until we move in. Till then, might as well enjoy the 4-star hotel.

Easter in Mystras

celinexiaolin — Sun, 27 Apr 2008 19:49:00 GMT

A day of lamb, rain, smells of jasmin, rose and orange blossom, family and friends. Ping-Pong, Rummicube, tea, laughs, fire in the fireplace. Happy. In the little house, mum and dad sleep in their own bedroom at the back of the house. My brother in the attic after coming home at 7am. Aunt Kallia in the living room, next to the fireplace. Me, Alessia and Lida in the big room with the windows on two sides, the balcony and the view on the whole plain. Cousin Erifili and Sotiris in the guest house downstairs. Breakfast; a long white table full of treats, fruitsalad, cheese, honey, bread, easter brioche (Tsoureki), coriander and parsley, Easter cookies, painted easter eggs, an earthy brown red colour that comes from boiling them in oignon peels. Chat, stories, magazines and books. Ping Pong. A flying visit to the cousins at the old house, in the old neighbourhood, a visit at the neighbours, eating kokoretsi. Then lunch. Easter lamb. Talking of old friends, family, grandfathers long gone. Grandfather, the doctor, the pilot. The character. I wish I remembered him more. I wish I knew him more. Long and lean. A peasant with noble instincts. A man ahead of his time. Driving to Kastania. The river, the gorge, the huge trees, the fog and the rain. Visiting another noisy family. Friendly. Kastania with the tall houses, the early century stone mansions. And now, back home in the dollhouse. Around the fireplace, in the warmth, they play rummicube, they laugh, my dad imposes the rules but takes his time to play, I write. Perfect. Tea and cookies. Family, friends and friends that are family.

Crossing the river Jordan

celinexiaolin — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 15:31:00 GMT

"Why are you going to Jordan" seemed to be a recurring question when I told people that I was heading here. Clearly none of them had ever been. I now find this question very easy to answer. There is much to fascinate here. From the Roman cities - of which Jerash in the North is the best preserved specimen outside of Rome- to the Southern dessert of Wadi Rum, there was plenty to keep us busy.

A mix of Christian, Islamic, Greek, Bedouin and Roman heritage, Jordan is a stable kingdom in the midst of some very funny neighbours. The land is scorched, the people are friendly and the food is yummy. All the Middle Eastern staples are present,the creamy hummus, the flat breads, the salty tabouleh, grilled meats and best of all mint tea and coffee with cardamon.

Little did I know that most of the fabled locations in our Christian heritage are located here. Bethany, the place where Jesus was baptised, Mount Nebo, the place where Moses died. Mukawir where Herod had his palace.

The Dead Sea is probably the stuff of fascination to every kid who first read about water where you cannot sink and a sea below the actual sea level.

And surely, Lawrence of Arabia who roamed extensively in Syria and Jordan, is the epitome of a great adventurer gone native.

It is a holy land. Well,one of them at least. There is nature, adventure, history and myth and we can't wait to see it all.

Under the dessert sky

celinexiaolin — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 19:53:00 GMT

To the East of Aqaba, in the South of Jordan, not far from the Saudi Arabian border is the dessert of Wadi Rum. It is Bedouin and camel land, a real dessert but surprisingly full of life and riches. Sandy but with big rocks, endless horizons, gorges and canyons, rocky bridges, Bedouin carvings and hidden springs. We were driven here from Petra. On the road we stopped to taste the best coffee in the land at the truckers and driver’s pit stop. A shack right on the highway serving coffee perfumed with cardamon. We were delivered into the capable hands of Sayel and his rusty 4x4 that ended up serving us extremely well. Sayel is a Bedouin in his late 20s. Crisp and fresh in his white tunic despite the 30 degree heat, he is new in the tourist driving business. It might explain his obvious enthusiasm for the job. So far he had been driving an ambulance. He is the son of a third wife and the experience seems to have left its mark since for himself he only wishes one wife and two kids. He has learnt his English by himself. And with tourists. He is fun and he is our guide for our dessert stint. Our first stop is at his makeshift camp where he leaves us for a bit to go and get organised. We do not want to sleep there tonight but it is our first contact with the dessert and we savour it. Red sand, bushes that he makes our tea from and the rocks. It is hot but it is also windy so that it is not unpleasant. When Sahel comes back we load 3 foam mattresses at the top of the truck and we are off. Every now and then he jumps out of the car, fiddles with the front wheels and we are off again. It takes a while to realise that he does that every time he puts the car in 4 wheel drive mode. Also, he knows every body. It is an uncommonly crowded place, the dessert. In the middle of nowhere, completely out of the blue people bump into us or we into them. They are his cousins, his friends, people that just bum a bottle of water off him. In the middle of the dessert his cousin with his 2 kids are tinkering with a car and keeping an eye on two adult and two baby camels The best thing in the dessert is the sleep and the food…..and the dishwashing. Take a plate and just sink it in the sand and rub it with it. It comes out spotless and sparkling. At lunchtime, after a meal of canned sardines and tuna, moutabal, bread, tomato and cucumber we had a nap. Laying in the shade of a dessert hill, made all the more precious by the breeze, on the soft, warm sand looking at an endless blue sky caught somewhere between sleeping, dreaming and being awake. Not a sound in the air but the sound of the air. Wake up, grab some twigs and light a fire for the tea. Then drive off to visit Lawrence of Arabia’s house, luge on my bum down the red sand dune and set camp against a hill for the night. Camp is throwing the three mattresses on the sand and lighting the fire to cook chicken and tomatoes, grill the bread and drink some tea. We then just laid on our backs looking at the stary sky, each on our mattress and covered by two blankets. Absolute silence but the sound of the air and the night. Sleeping between dream time and night time. Unforgettable!

Gallery: Athens - my city

celinexiaolin — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 20:14:00 GMT

Picking olives in Mystras

celinexiaolin — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 19:57:00 GMT

On the outskirts of Sparta is a gem that few people know exist. It is called Mystras. Mystras is a medieval castle, what used to be a very important kingdom in Byzantine times. It is hard to convey how perfect this place is. Nestled against the mountain of Taygetos with its natural and abundant springs and the snow capped tip, it has an endless view on a (pediada) of olive and orange trees. In spring, the smell of orange flower and jasmine makes you dizzy. In winter, everyone works on the olive trees. December to January is the time when the branches are heavy with fruit. Generous tree, you do not make us work under the August sun. And it is work. Hard work. Backbreaking work. Very satisfying work. You do not pick olives, you harvest them and the tree gets a rough deal. Its fullest branches are sawn off and the rest of it is beaten till the olives fall off on the big canvasses that are laid out on the ground. Then you have to sort out some of the leaves and branches that are mingled with the olives and put them in the bags. Between the beating, the sorting, the moving around with the canvasses, you are wiped out at the end of the day. But your hands smell of fresh olive oil and your mind is clear. Greece cannot exist without the olive. It flows in the country’s blood. There cannot be a meal without it. It’s magic. So bitter off the tree and yet so delicious in all its guises. At the press, the oil is tasted as if it where wine. Every picker’s vintage is assessed. What was the yield. Whether the frost was detrimental. Whether there were too many leaves and branches mixed in with the fruit. It is tasted with grilled bread, salt and wine or raki. The brothers that own and operate the press have pink cheeks and smiley faces. Rotund shepherds with a tinkle in their eye and their jokes. Mum is the boss of our little family production. In the field we all argued endlessly, telling each other how to do things right and yet by the end of the day of working together, you come closer, you have shared something and you are joyfully exhausted. Nothing tastes like olive oil that you have picked yourself. Nothing looks like it either. And somehow it is fitting that Christ prayed in an olive grove and rode on a donkey. All three are in this country’s DNA. All three are moving and all three all blessed.

Swimming with dolphins

celinexiaolin — Wed, 19 Dec 2007 15:55:00 GMT

If ever I felt that I have been blessed, it was when a dolphin checked me out. In Kaikura, on New Zealand’s South Island, you can swim with dolphins. On their terms, providing them with entertainment and not the other way around. They are curious, graceful and find you boring very very quickly. I almost did not go. The day before, just as we were looking for something to eat at a local petrol station, I happened to glance at the front page of the local paper. “Shark attacks surfer” is not the most reassuring reading before a dip in an ocean full of whales, dolphins, penguins and seals. Fortunately dolphins and sharks do not mix well and I figured I would be warned well in advance if I were to become toast. The swim was scheduled for 5 am. Suited and prepped we set out on our boats, a group of 16 people. There are no guarantees but invariably, it seems, the guys at the “Dolphin experience” find these sea mammals that always swim in a herd. There they were, the unique acrobatic dolphins of New Zealand. We had to be sufficiently interesting for them to come close and have a look and ideally use us as playthings. There is nothing more ridiculous then a bunch of humans making screaming noises through their snorkelling tubes and trying to pretend they are dolphins. But this is what you have to do for them to come and see what sort of entertainment you provide. And they do come. Really close. They look you in the eye and make you follow them. You cannot of course because they are quick as lighting but you do for a few seconds. And for those few amazing seconds you are interacting, really communicating with a dolphin. They made me spin myself quite a few amazing rounds and even though I got nauseous in the end, it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. After a few swims comes the other feast. When you are done and you are back in the boat they followed us. Jumping out of the water, diving in front of the boat, spinning in the air and for those moments it truly felt that we were living in a perfect world.