Le Tombeau de Xiao Xiao

The last time I had gone to West Lake, I was in a rather artistic phase. I would have loved to have sat down under the shade of a weeping willow and sketched for an entire afternoon. Unfortunately, I was with a group and had to keep an average speed of two footsteps per second. Beside, the day was too hot and I had not brought my sketchbook. In fact, I didn't even bring my camera.

A week later, or rather a couple of days ago, I had a free afternoon and no desire to spend it asleep in my dorm room. Deciding to brave the afternoon sun, I hopped on a taxi to the lake, armed with umbrella, camera, and sketchbook.

When I arrived at the lake, I was greeted with a mild breeze and a breath of fresh air. After a few minutes during which I traipsed around marveling at local leaves and my luck, I looked up in the sky to see angry storm clouds looming in the near future. No matter, plenty of pavilions about.

There was a floating pavilion just off the crop of this picture, which is completely unattached from land and required a large leap to get on to. It came in handy later.

Parts of the lake were completely covered with lily pads.

The flora around the lake could have kept my pencil busy for the entire afternoon. However (mostly because of the ticking forecast), I took the shortcut and photographs of foliage instead. I followed trefoiled, serrated, veined, (a)symmetrical, recursive leaves in more shades of green than I could count into the following cursive clearing:


There, a cat took one glinting glance at me and dove into the trefoiled, serrated recursion. A small French girl (in yet another shade of green) followed her babbling, bell-like voice (une belle voix) and her Chinese caretaker into the concrete clearing. I could not resist calling out "Regarde, il y a un petit chat la-bas". Although she showed no surprise in hearing French from a complete stranger, she did stop in her tracks en cherchant le petit chat stopped in its tracks beneath the foliage.

I meandered for a while longer around the lake, snapping some more shots, before deciding that it's about time I head back. Attempting to figure out my location, I looked to a guidepost.

Statues for the "wine culture" of China or something.

I liked the juxtaposition of the old world boats in the foreground and the modern high rises in the background.

Some cosplayers! The finger in the corner is from my hurry to take their picture rapidly without them noticing.

Wait a minute... What was that at the very bottom? Rain or no rain. I had to find this place. I passed a statue (with which I had to take an irreverent photo), a pavilion (named for Qiu Jin's last words. Remember her from Chinese class, Lily and Scot?), and the tomb of a man who killed a tiger with his bare hands (he did other things, but that's all I could remember from that TV show) before I saw it in the midst of a large crowd of people at the end of the long, winding path. Apparently, some middle school children had a field trip that day and had used it as a landmark for rendezvous.

Irreverent statue photo #20

Wind Rain Pavilion and wind rain in the distance.

Wusong's tomb.

Xiao Xiao's tomb is a rather popular attraction.

Self-explanatory.

Satisfied with seeing the sepulchre of my delightful, dead doppelganger, I headed back to the place I entered the park and unsuccessfully attempted to hail a taxi back before the rage d'orage. Thus, I retreated back into the park and settled in the first, floating pavilion minutes before the downpour, where I traced patterns of the elegant woodwork tracery in my sketchbook while listening to rain drop like beads into floating lily pads.

Belated Post II: Pictures I wish I had taken (Dalian)

1. Every night after 9 PM (and no before, due to some law aimed at city beautification), the streets corner right outside the west gate of DUT comes alive with a row of food stands and street vendors selling cheap goods ranging from squid on a stick to contraband DVD's. Chunks of mostly students gather around the stands waiting for their chunks of edibles to be cooked in front of them. Smoke fills the air from various barbecue stands. Occasionally, a loud pop from the popcorn/poprice guy makes everyone jump a little.

The first picture that I missed was this night scene. I've walked past it many times in 5 weeks, but I never remembered to snap a picture.

My favorite late night street snacks are sticks of not exactly sanitary, probably not healthy, but definitely delicious mutton roasted by a family of Uguyrs, who occasionally don't heed the 9 PM rule. I get a few sticks a few nights a week. One day, I walked by the stand and saw one of the Uguyrs climb to a small platform and kneel with his back to the gate and his face in the setting sun. A few hours later, I walked by the same place, and again he was in the same position, with a serene look on his face looking out where the sun had already retreated. It was then that I realized he was praying.

There was something moving about the guy's devotion. I wanted to capture it on film, but I didn't have my camera either time. Besides, I don't think I have the skill to capture sentiment on camera.

2. The boy at the 24 hour porridge shop has a rather lovely face, charming with a small sparkle of mischief and a slight shade of buhaoyisi. I had gone there every couple of days at least for lunch or dinner, and he had always been there, no matter the hour.

From his looks, he can't be more than 16, but the tiger pendant on his neck suggests that he's probably 21. I wonder what he's doing with his life, why he's working at such a place and not at the respectable university next door. I never talked to him except to order dishes or request napkins.

I don't have a crush on him. I just like his face. I wanted badly to take a picture, but it's impossible to be inconspicuous as I aim the camera.

3. Every university of reasonable quality in China has something in common- a large statue of Mao in a conspicuous square. At Fudan in Shanghai, Mao overlooks a large courtyard. At Zhejian University, Mao looks rather orange and raises his right hand in perpetual salute (or to hail a cab, as the students say). At Dalian, Mao has his hands behind his back and wears a coat that billows to usually non-existent wind.

For a few days around graduation, enormous balloons colored like beach balls bobbed around Mao's head, trailing long signs with (what I guessed to be) phrases of felicitation.It looked rather surreal, for the balloons were just the right proportion for Mao. I kept forgetting to bring my camera every time I walked by it...

At least at the time of this entry's conception. I had since remembered my camera and taken a picture. Here it is:


4. During our last weeks at Dalian, we worked mostly at night due to communication with MIT, and thus I had most of my days free. I liked to hop on a bus into town at the east gate whenever I itched for a change of environment. About a week before we left, I planned to meet Geng at Victory Square, the gigantic underground mall, for an afternoon of retail therapy. Not wanting to carry extra weight in my bag, I forwent the camera.

Unusual things seem to pop up at a much higher frequency whenever I am sans camera. On the bus, I saw a guy writing long rows of poetry with chalk. Never mind that the bus was moving when I saw him. I would have jumped out at the next stop just to get the picture.

Right next to the bus stop at Victory Square were two young boys. One was balanced upside down by his mouth on some strange, spinning contraption. The other did flips. Poor kids. I wanted a picture, but I gave them 5 yuan instead (enough to buy both of them a meal).

After shopping, Geng and I walked around the surrounding area a bit. In a crowd of street vendors, we saw a lady peddling what looked to be pirated Hollywood movies. When we walked closer to see what she had, we realized that she actually sold pornography, child pornography. Disgusted, we quickly walked away from her smiling, enthusiastic offers, in the direction of a small boy also with a pile of DVD's in front of him. Turned out the he too was selling child porn. A child selling child porn...

5. You. Yes, you. You know who you are. Actually, I do have a couple of pictures of you, but in both, half of your face (the same half, unfortunately) is obscured. If you happen to be reading this (I really don't know why you would be. I don't think I ever told you about it), do kindly email me a (flattering) photograph of yourself so that I can toss it into a shoe box, stop thinking about it, and forget you properly.

Belated Post I: Hiking

Located 40 minutes outside of Dalian by train, Kafaqu literally means "Development Zone" and is home to the software park (which my dad's college classmate is apparently in charge of), lots of mountains, and the meanest cab drivers I've seen so far in China. It is also the temporary home of our new friends Phil and Matt from Penn State. Couple of weeks ago, they took us hiking in the mountains. Voici les photos:

These lion posts were all along the mountain path. The ones pawing a ball are supposed to be male; the ones pawing a cub are female. I don't know what the red ribbons are for.

The Great Wall! Not really, just some barricade from I don't know when.

Xiao Xiao on crenellations admiring the view

Dragon relief on the steps up the temple (?) at the top of the mountain.

The temple had intricate patterns on the ceiling.

And demon children in bas relief around the outer walls.

We saw two more temples on our way down- one Buddhist, one Daoist- both of which had real monks around. Guess which temple this sculpture is from.

Ancient temple nestled in the greenery of the mountains currently being renovated.

unday of the same week, Phil invited us hiking again, this time to explore a Japanese bunker from World War II. Unfortunately, I had a stomach ache that morning and opted out...

Hello Hangzhou

Just to say that I'm still alive and have now relocated to Hangzhou for the following three weeks. Currently, there is no internet in my room, but I think I will be able to upload photos from the (sketchy) internet cafe next to campus.

That's all for now. More coming soon, hopefully.

BBQ wikipedia

I encounter too many amusing episodes in China to be able to keep up with everything in this blog. Currently, I have a mental queue of 4 or 5 future entries, one of which I am waiting for photos to be sent to me. The subject of this particular entry dates back about a week.

As a result of my piano concert last Saturday, I met the webmaster of dalianxpat.com, an MIT alum who invited us to go to a gathering of foreigners in China the following morning. Thus, on Sunday, Ben and I trekked over to Starbucks (Xingbake) in Olympic Square.

The Starbucks in China have different sizes than their counterparts in America. Instead of the Tall, Grande, and Venti, Chinese Starbucks offer Short and omit Venti, which makes much more
sense to me than the American way. When I mentioned this to the barista, she informed me that the Short is there because China is not used to such large portions. However, soon China will acquire the Venti and will offer four sizes.

At the gathering, we met a variety of pretty cool people, including two college students from Penn State here for an internship. A bunch of us went out to lunch to a restaurant called Noah's Ark, where we shared pizza, and I ordered a BBQ wikipedia. WTF is a BBQ wikipedia? Pictures as follows:

On the menu in all its BBQ'd glory. If you can read Chinese, you'll know what the BBQ wikipedia actually is.

BBQ wikipedia (a.k.a BBQ squid rings) and me in my mock Asian photo pose.

My new friend Phil from Penn State and his new friend the wikipedia mustache.

After lunch, a bunch of us went to a mall, where we strolled through arcades. Our first stop was a small children's arcade. Afterwards, we went to another arcade in the same mall full of high tech simulation-based games most of which involved shooting and killing innocents.

There was a photography shop next to the arcade. One of the advertisements outside involved a small kid dressed up as a member of the red army. Apologies for the crappiness of the picture. I snuck a shot after being told no pictures allowed.

The small children's arcade had these fish tanks full of goldfish where kids can come and fish. The beginner level involved children with nets scooping the fish out.

They also had miniature pottery wheels, or rather glorified mudpits, where small children can get their hands dirty without being yelled at by parents.

A sad plight of the Chinese single child is that it suffers from a paucity of friends. Fortunately, a wide-eyed Donald Duck is always ready to play with children.

At the simulation game arcade, we had fun shooting things.

Minor Celebrity Status

#1 was a tall, quiet young man with glasses and somewhat greasy hair. A 4th year student of Mathematics, he will be starting his Ph.D in America next fall at NYU.

#2 was a smiling girl with glasses. A 4th year in EE, she's admittedly a bit awkward but very cute.

To be completely frank, #3 annoys me. A scrawny sophomore with a swift stride and poor posture, #3 is a math major and a suckup to #1.

#4 was me.

About two weeks ago, I met with some of the music faculty here at DUT. After hearing me give a passably good performance of Ravel's Une barque sur l'ocean (1 hour of frantic practice the night before, 1/2 hour of practice that morning), they decided to hold a concert for me, giving me exactly 10 days to prepare my repertoire of 2 Ravel + 1 Chopin, the latter of which I have not touched in 2 years. I was apparently the "star" of the show playing more pieces and longer pieces than #1, #2, and #3.

I was asked to submit a few photographs of myself for the posters. Expecting a perfunctory 8.5 x 11 sheet of monochromatic advertisement, I mindlessly sent off three former facebook profile pictures of not particularly high resolution. This is what they actually made:

It was probably 4 feet tall at least.

A closeup of a smaller version plastered around campus.

According to these posters, the concert was a joint MIT/DUT effort held in honor of the 10 year anniversary of Hong Kong's return to China. Xiao Xiao, the star of the show, is a student at MIT, is female (they felt the need to specify that as a result of my highly gender-ambiguous picture), was born in Nanjing, and has studied piano for 15 years. I was actually born in Beijing and have played for 16.

A few hours before the concert, I headed over to the recital hall to try out the piano. A bunch of students were there, peeling back sticky paper to reveal the sign to be displayed on the back wall of the stage.

I helped peel for a little bit because I was not allowed to warm up until 2 hours before the concert. It was fun.

#1 opened the concert with Chopin's "Ocean" etude and the b minor Scherzo. For all the hype I've heard from #3 about him, his performance was mostly disappointing. #1 actually had some potential for musicality. I could hear semblances of subtlety it in his phrasing. Unfortunately, he did not possess the proper technique to handle the Scherzo. His "Ocean" waves rolled far too slowly with far too many flotsams of wrong notes.

Like me, #2 started the piano when she was just 4 years old. Despite having quit piano for two years, #2 still had a superb musical sense. Her first piece, a traditional Chinese composition transcribed for piano, had a lovely, light touch, perfect for the atmosphere. Her second piece, however, showed the wear of her long hiatus on her technique. A shame, really. She would have played it beautifully in her peak.

During the two hours of practice before the concert, #3 was constantly urging #1 to practice more so that he can give a magnificent opening. Whenever #1 practiced, #3 would make "helpful" commentary. #3's own playing was cheap pyrotechnics in the worst sense. His accuracy was decent, finger technique tolerable, but his musicality terrible enough to make me hate Chopin for the duration of his performance.

My own playing was mostly unsatisfactory. I can make plenty of excuses to compensate including my poorly selected dress, which limited arm movement, the strange action of the piano, the flashing lights, the distracting audience, and my lack of warmup due to #3's inability to grasp that the recital was mostly for me (not #1). Still, the audience seemed to have liked it enough (or pretended to out of politeness). Some people gave me a nice bouquet of flowers and had me take pictures with them.

During the concert. Note the perfectly peeled letters behind me.

The performers, crew, and the professor who gave introductions.

My flowers are now arranged in 4 ex-water bottles on my windowsill. I also gave some to Ben, who enjoys pretty flowers.

Finally, here are some former recordings of the pieces I played:
Scherzo No.3 by Chopin
Alborada del gracioso and
Une barque sur l'ocean by Ravel