Whai

Last night I attended a concert at a bar in Beijing known for its live music acts, Yugong Yishan. There were two bands performing, Chasing Star and Whai. Chasing Star was entertaining, but Whai were virtuoso. It is a band comprised of three men, each from a different Chinese ethnic minority and combines the indigenous music of their three cultures with industrial rock.

The Forbidden City and the Temple of Heaven

Above are pictures of two resplendent temple and palace complexes in Beijing: the Forbidden City and the Temple of Heaven Park. The Forbidden City was built as a complex of temples and was sequestered from most of the emperor's subjects. The Temple of Heaven Park was a place for “worshiping heaven” and the immortals of the Chinese pantheon in order to ensure a good harvest.

Modern Art in China

Today I took a day trip into the 798 Art District, a famous modern gallery district in Beijing. I viewed art from several modern Chinese artists. It was fascinating to see the improvisations and innovations these artists had brought to traditional Chinese art. Instead of the traditional hanging scroll and ink paintings, many artists are now using canvas and acrylic and oil paints, but using many of the same forms and themes. I began taking down names of my favorite artists I discovered there. The list became two pages long. Some artists could be interpreted as subversive. One painted portraits of Chinese peasants who looked despondent. Another painted a portrait of Chairman Mao smoking a cigarette and reclining on a couch in front of the television. This gave me hope for the future of China. Previous Chinese premiers, such as Chairman Mao and Deng Xiaoping, would never have permitted these recalcitrant artists to display their work. While many websites are still censored in China, the 798 Art District has been allowed to exist and flourish. Perhaps this is evidence of democratic future in China in which civil liberties are given more respect, similar to its neighbors of Taiwan and India.

Under the Shadow of Chairman Mao

I have arrived in Beijing. When I landed at the airport, I exchanged my dollars for Chinese yuan. I received two shocks when I arrived: First, my bags were stuck in Guangzhou, a city in Southern China where I had a layover. (They were shipped to my hotel a few hours later.) My other shock came when I looked at the money and saw that the portrait of Chairman Mao Zedong was on all the money I received. When I tried to log into my blog, I realized that I couldn't because it was censored by the government. Since my warm clothes were in the bag that had been held up, people must have thought I was crazy walking the streets in only a T-shirt and khaki shorts. I realized that the street my hotel was on, Nanliuogu Xiang, was a historic street and full of charming bars, bubble tea stands, and a wonderful Tibetan restaurant with delicious yak butter tea, momos (Tibetan dumplings), and hot pots. I decided to take a night walk around Tiananmen Square. After learning the subways, I arrived in the square and saw a gargantuan portrait of Chairman Mao overlooking the square. I would have thought all the people killed under Mao's regime would have desecrated his image, including all the Tibetans who starved to death after Mao forced them to cultivate wheat instead of barley and who were incarcerated because of their Tibetan Buddhist practice. Yet, it seemed that people still viewed him as a national hero. Of course, my next thought was that leaders responsible for enslavement of Africans and genocide of indigenous people like George Washington, Andrew Jackson, and Thomas Jefferson are still seen as national heroes and found on money. Still, I found it egregious that Chairman Mao, whose oppressive rule was responsible for suppressing so many civil liberties, was looking down at the site of the massacre of students who demanded democracy. That night, I ate at the Crescent Moon Muslim Restaurant in the Dongsi neighborhood. I drank pomegranate wine and ate pan-seared peppers, all of which were delicious. The restaurant was run by members of the Uighur people, a Muslim ethnic group in China who have also been suppressed because of their refusal to capitulate their practice of Islam. Some Uighurs have incarcerated because their Islam has been seen as too subversive. I greeted them with “salam alleykum,” the traditional Islamic greeting which means “may peace be with you” in Arabic, Uighur, and several other languages. I thought of all the various groups oppressed under Chinese Communism, and decided that while I was here, I would do what I could to support them. There are several ways to do this. But supporting their businesses and celebrating their art are two small ways.

Gift of the Sugarbee

Two weeks ago, I was introduced to a man who harvests local sugarbee (honey). I asked him if he had any honey for sale, but he told me he was out. But last week, I was walking to a feast and a truck with two volunteers from the Japan International Cooperation (JICA), who had come to my village to work with the fishermen. I didn't realize at first that the driver was the same man who harvests sugarbee, but he remembered me. After discussing my imminent trip to Japan to see an old, intimate friend in Tokyo with the volunteers, the man reminded me who he was. He produced a large glass jar filled with the sugarbee. I asked if I could pay him later since I had no cash on me. He told me it was a gift. I was quite honored that this man would remember me. In Vanuatu, people remember faces.

Puppies and Kittens

This month, a new litter of puppies and a new litter of kittens were born. Both litters are living outside my house.

The ManBush Walk

Last week, my friend Abby, a returned Peace Corps Volunteer who served as an environmental educator in Paraguay, came to visit me on Malekula on her way to a bird-watching expedition in Malaysia. Together, we embarked on the ManBush Walk, a gorgeous, but grueling five-day trek. Abby spotted several different variegated bird species. We also crawled our way through a cave and disturbed a coven of bats that flew around in our faces. The last day in particular was arduous: A ten-hour hike almost all uphill and downhill. At times, people volunteered to carry my backpack and even carry me in order to remain on schedule. By the end of the trek, I was saturated in bruises and cuts, aches and pains. I am still recovering from it all. But it was incredible to see Abby again and I am quite proud of both of us for completing the hike.