Fools come in many forms.

Some join the running of the bulls of Pamplona, dashing down narrow streets chased by angry bulls hoping to gore them.

Others choose base-jumping: climbing tall buildings, bridges and bluffs in order to jump from their heights and parachute to safety.

Still others join the polar bear club and swim in frozen waters in Minnesota on New Years Day.

I am the type of fool that travels to foreign lands and writes a blog that says, “Nothing happens in New Zealand” and thinks that nothing will happen.

The bull runner gets gored, the base-jumped crashes and the polar bear swimmer gets hypothermia.

I got yesterday.

We were still glowing after the triumph of the cockle outing.  We were feeling cocky.

We arrived on the West coast of the South Island.  It is worth noting that few ever come to the West coast.  It is windy and often almost desolate.  The East coast features sun in the summer, swimming with dolphins/seals and most of the interesting cities.

The West coast reaches out to my inner Scotsman.  The beaches are stunning, but deserted.  The trees next to the shore are all twisted from months of the “Barber”: the name the locals give for the winter wind that is cold and cutting.

We arrived in a quirky west coast city called Hokitika.  A village known for its “Wild Food Festival” (featuring items such as sheep brains and insect larvae ice cream and has a cult following) and their driftwood art.  In the city, its beach is lined with odd sculptures made entirely with materials found on the beach.

Cow

All natural materials

Giraffe

I guess this is a giraffe

Since we had eschewed camper-parks so successfully the previous day, we decided to go looking for a place near the beach slightly outside of town.

We drove until we came to a dirt road that headed toward the shore.  We took it.

We came to a parking area with a “No Camping” sign with a tent and a gate next to it.  In New Zealand, they often differentiate between tent camping and campervan camping.  In the latter, you are able to stay almost anywhere since you have a self-contained toilet.  With this in mind, this locale was probably available to us.  We noted this location as an option, but then started to drive through the gate.  The road was now longer dirt, but it was now really loose sand.

You know that feeling that you get when you realize you have made a critical mistake?

Well, mine came 15 seconds before I got stuck in the sand.  Really stuck.

One of the great joys of parenting is discovering (and dealing with) the massive differences in the proclivities and personalities of your progeny.  Sometimes these differences are hard to spot.  In other moments, they come into stark contrast.

The moment we got stuck, Liam left the car to help.  “I will tell you if your wheels are spinning”, “I will tell you which way to go.” “Let me dig out the sand.”

How Can I Help?

Liam is like spicy Thai food.  When you are in the mood for it, it is exactly what you crave.  Yet if you are in a subtler mood and want mild soup, he comes on too strong.

With my 3 ton campervan with poor torque was half buried in sand, Liam’s spicy Thai curry was exactly what I needed.

We dug for 10 minutes and tried to put rocks beneath the tires.  We got out, but got stuck again.  This repeated yet again.  We then got serious about or efforts.

Susie, Wiley, Terrill and Virginia went to collect driftwood for traction.  Terrill and Susie gathered tons.  Virginia was a blaze of activity.  Susie then looked up to see what Wiley had accomplished.

Remember the part about the differences between children?  Well it comes into stark contrast here.  Wiley, Liam’s twin, has not gathered any wood.

He has a bomb.

Yep, this is Wiley helping

It is worth noting that Susie has been reading a book about a Cambodian girl that survived the Khmer Rouge.  I mention this because children in Southeast Asia still die each month from landmine and unexploded ordinance.  The children find bombs or landmines, think they are toys and ignite them – losing limbs or life.

With these visions in her mind, Susie looks to her oldest son and sees this.

Wiley, to his credit, has noticed that it is plastic and is a toy.  [Note: the only discernable word on the plastic toy bomb was “dolphin”.  I do not want to speculate what bizarre anti-marine theme this toy was a part of.]

Susie did not panic.  Not quite.  She used that mother-on-the-verge-of-panic voice.  “Wiley, please put that down.  Do not throw it.  Please do not throw it.”

Losing the calm voice, she added, “Please do NOT throw it!”

Wiley, perplexed at his wonderful mother’s concern.  Put the toy down.

Moments later, Virginia walks up, picks up the bomb, and throws it.

Once Susie calms down, she asks Virginia if she heard the warnings to Wiley.

“Yes.”

“Did you understand them?”

“Yes.”

“Why then did you throw the bomb?”

“I thought you were talking to Wiley . . .”

Back to our stuck vehicle.

We dug.  We flattened.  We laid the rocks and driftwood.

The road crew

Another view of the crew

The fine residents of Hotitika might use these materials for art, but we used them as impromptu building materials.  We packed the sand and laid wood and stone.  We also pushed our elephantine vehicle.

It edged and rocked and moved.  We were free.  After one hour of embarrassing struggle, we were out.  I only needed to back the campervan for a quarter mile and we were out.

We then decided to park in the lot with the “No Camping” sign showing the tent.

We soon forgot the struggles in the sand.  We went to the beach.  We made friends with fishermen and locals.

Fishing for elephant fish

We gathered rocks and made impromptu sculptures.

We also saw a sunset of rare and sublime beauty.

The kids after the work

The happy couple

Kids on the beach

How about this for a view?

After a very late dinner of leftovers, we were readying ourselves for bed as a white bearded man told us we needed to leave.  He was rather dictatorial and unpleasant.  We apologized for being in the wrong place.  We also suggested that he change the signs to make it clearer that overnight parking was forbidden as well.  He dismissed my suggestion.  I think that he enjoys kicking people off.

Oddly enough, the next day we met a wonderful German photographer from whom we bought a few small photographs.  During the course of the conversation, we mentioned where we were and the fact we were kicked out of what we thought was a legal parking lot.  We did not describe the man or the conversation.  We only said roughly where we had been and that a guy had been uncharacteristically rude to us.  He perked up: “Did he have a white beard?”

Turns out that we ran into “that guy”.  You know him.  Every town has one.  This is the person who wants to tell everyone else what to do and lead the people away from their faulty ways.  The only problem is that no one would ever follow that guy.  Even if he were leading the way to a Fire Exit in a blaze. The good news is that Susie and I recognize “that guy”. Middle age is such a blissful relief when you realize when problems belong to other people are not really directed towards you, rather you just happen to be in the way.

Despite all of this, we loved this city.  We have some great photographs from the German and even better memories.

Steve Sir

I have a lot of pictures to share, so you will get fewer words.

This will be picture heavy for several reasons.  First, traveling with Matthew last week stirred my inner shutter bug.  He was a truly talented photographer that saw things that I simply did not.  I have been trying to pick up a few things.

Second, I learned how to crop photos for this blog.

Finally, we had a day that is better described with pictures than words.

Before I describe the day, I want to post a few more from yesterday.

I included an ironic shot of a man wearing a gun-toting shirt taking a picture of a serene buddhist monk.  Susie pointed out that the shirt was too small to read.  Here it is again, in all its misspelled glory.

I guess a good Fierm can help you attain enlightenment. I am not sure what a Fierm is, but Glock makes them too.

When we went to our second temple, I meant to share this shot of the dragons that flank the entry stairs to the temple.

These guys get your attention

When we arrived at the first wat, they had a series of different acts that encourage good luck and merit.  Some people chose to have a monk bless them.  Others wrote their names on a pole that would be propped against the Bodhi tree (the Buddha attained enlightenment while sitting under a bodhi tree – this tree is claimed to be related to that tree).  There is incense to burn or candles to light.

This wat also had birds in wicker cages that you can release to create luck and blessing.  The girls thought that this would be an interesting way to experience the wat authentically in a way that was not too awkward.  They were so excited.  They purchased a cage with 4 birds for $3 and asked me to capture the moment.  I felt pressure because I could see their photographic expectations.  I would capture their radiant faces (each dappled in sun) as the looked upward at the 4 birds – each in full flight and easily recognizable in the picture.  I knew it would be tough and I would only get one shot.  I prepared and asked them for a count.

In the meantime, Terrill was attempting to discern the nature of the lock.  She found it, opened it, and four very small and VERY fast birds were in the next county before I knew they had left.

So the perfect picture did not happen, but I am not the sole owner of the failure.

Here is a picture before we all blew it.

This is going to be absolutely magic . . . OOPS

OK, I can now move on to a spectacular day today.

We went to the Bang Kub Elephant Camp.  Chiang Mai, Thailand is famous for its elephants, which is one of the reasons we are here (you will learn about another tomorrow – I am quite excited).  Once we got here, we learned that all elephant experiences are not created equal.  Most involve one hour of riding in a wooden saddle on elephants that are often rundown and ill-treated.

These elephants were healthy, but note the saddle in the back

Our camp is committed to healthy and happy elephants.  The elephants were once a huge part of the teak lumber trade, but once the forests were essentially cleared out, they lost their jobs and their human advocates.  The animals suffered for years until tourism filled the gap.

Our tour was an all-day affair.  We learned commands in a tribal mountain language for 30 minutes, including a quiz.  We learned to feed them (they eat between 450 and 650 pounds of food each day).  We then learned to mount and dismount them.  There are two mounting methods.

From the side:

Wiley scaling his pachyderm

From the front:

Susie on her way up. I will tell you her determination was not matched with grace.

There is just one way down – sliding down the face:

Jaloon means "head down"

Our trainer elephant is named “Real Man” in Thai.  He is just 12 and recently returned from 5 years of training school.  He will live to be 80-100, so he is just an adolescent.

We trained in steering the elephants by ourselves and in pairs.

I am not completely sure how well we did.  Each of us would have moments when our commands and the gentle kicks behind the ears would steer the massive beasts like a car.

Real Man would then spot some bamboo or loose grass and we would suddenly feel like we had no more control than that we command over the weather.

We ended the morning session with Real Man putting each of our hats back on our heads.

I'll take a 7 and 5/8th, thank you

And a thumbs up to you too Real Man!

Here we are after our morning training session.   Yes, they required the stylish denim outfits.

Can we keep him? I will feed him and love him and clean up after him!

At lunch, we compared notes and ate.  We followed lunch with an hour hike through the jungle followed by an hour splashing in the river.

Perhaps the most special aspect of the morning was the fact that two of our cows were recent moms with children in tow – a one year old girl and a 4 month old boy.  They were ridiculously cute and playful.

Here are some picture from the hike.

The one year old attacks the log

"Look ma, no trunk!"

If she can make it . . .

Tad harder than I thought - little help mommy?!?

Gracias, mi madre!

I hope you appreciate that each of us is on our own animal here.

Our favorite mother riding a proud mother of the little one

Completely under control - unless we are not.

Wave for the camera!

We then ended up in a river where we washed our elephants.  As you might guess, this became a huge water fight.  What you might not expect is the fact that the elephants started it, especially Real Man and his confederate Virginia.

Virginia has a loaded elephant and she is not afraid to use it!

Terrill and "Monk" in the foreground as Real Man sprays behind Terrill's left shoulder

Liam evading attack

This shot shows you the scale - remember, Real Man is only 12.

So you get out of the bath, feeling fresh.  What is your next move.  Rolling around in the dust?  Me too.

Lets get that pesky 'clean' off ourselves!

Right before we dismounted, we had to walk down off a 3+ foot ledge.  This ledge became a preferred spot for scratching sides, backs and – er – other areas.  My guy (the sire of all the calves) needed to scratch himself.  A professional baseball player would be proud.

If you think this view is odd, let me assure you that my position was odder.

Today was the event Susie most looked forward to.  Tomorrow is mine!  See you then.

Steve Sir

I am not sure what type of blog I want to share, so I will do a three part offering.

The first shares some travel details from our adventure.

The second is a series of photos that amused me.

The last is an excerpt from a letter from a former camp counselors.

Lets start with the travel details.

As promised, we spent time in Bangkok today.  We went from our apartment to the subway to a pier.  From there, we hopped on a water taxi and rode to the Grand Palace and Thailand’s greatest temple – Wat Phra Kaew.

I will not attempt to explain the history of Thailand.  I can tell you that the modern era started in 1768-1782 when the current  dynasty began.

In 1782, King Rama I established Bangkok as his new capital.  He also chose the site for the Grand Palace and the temple Wat Phra Kaew.  Wat Phra Kaew houses the “Emerald Buddha”, which is actually made of Jasper.  It comes from northern Thailand is is deeply revered.  It is not large (roughly 3 feet high), but it is impressive.  Here is a picture I took from the outside (no cameras were allowed inside).

Looking good in gold

Here is a fun fact – the Emerald Buddha has 3 outfits.  One for summer, one for the rainy season and one for the winter.  There are elaborate ceremonies during which the buddha’s vestments are changed.  I wish I could capture the room.  In addition to this statue, there were two 7 foot buddhas (dedicated to Rama I and Rama II) made of gold with jewels.   This room was downright stinking in valuable items.

The entire complex was elaborate and intriguing.  Here are a few pictures:

From outside the complex - I love the variety of spires

The compound is well-gauarded, with a pair of these guys at each door.

Guardians of the temple

We especially liked this stupa held up with demons and monkeys:

The demons and monkeys are in the BACKGROUND

After this temple, we went to Wat Pho, the site of the great Reclining Buddha.  When I say “great”, I mean it.  This gold leaf statue (with wickedly cool mother-of-pearl feet) is roughly 50 yards long.

The Reclining Buddha - half the length of a football field

It is somewhat amusing to note that the 50-yard long buddha is housed in a room that is 54-55 yards long on the inside.  There is no room for any other statues to visit.   In an area nearby, we saw a row of meditating statues.

I have no idea why one buddha is not gold

We were deeply impressed with these sites and statues.  I hope you get a feel for them in these photos.

Speaking of photos, this brings me to the second part of this blog – the fun photo portion.

While we are traveling well as a family, we do not always have a “fresh family atmosphere”.  I took this shot as the kids were “templed-out”.

No one is achieving enlightenment at this moment

Since everyone got their fill of temples, we only looked at this one from the river:

Wat Arun - the third of the three great sites

This photo has 7 heads – my daughters are on either end.

Terrill on left , Virginia on right

Here is Liam channeling his inner warrior:

I am glad that neither has a sword

Not to be outdone, Wiley is becoming a winged warrior monkey.  OK, maybe not, but he is standing next to winged warrior monkey topiary.

Ready to defend the country

Here is a guard at the Grand Palace.

I think he is just as excited but shows it differently

Boys are looking tall.

Contemplating meaning? I doubt it

We have been happy to see that the floods have mostly receded, but there remains the occasional reminder.

Detritus from the recent rains

We were walking outside the temples and we walked along over one hundred vendors selling amulets, pictures, knick-knacks, etc.  This one literally turned my head.

He shrunk the monks

I guess this is the buddhist equivalent to a bobble-head doll.  I assume these are exact model (I mean exact!) of holy men.  Whatever they are, they are just a little too life-like for comfort.  I expected them to rise up and ask me about the “sound of one hand clapping”.

My final picture comes from the sinks in the public bathrooms in the temple complex.  They have clearly experienced a problem that I would not have foreseen.

Is this "do not wash feet" or "do not kick spigot in anger"? Just to be sure, I did neither

Finally, we got a nice message from a much loved counselor who worked in 2009 and 2010.  She had to miss camp for summer school last summer, so hearing from her was particularly pleasing.  I think she does a nice job of sharing some of the gifts of camp.

“Steve Sir,

It has been so long since we have spoken, but I have been following your family’s adventures and living vicariously through your blog. I just wanted to take a moment while I finally have some down time after a long hard semester of chaos to let you know that this semester my eyes were opened to what Camp Champions did for me. I entered into my last year of college this past August doing my student teaching. I was able to work with second and third graders all semester teaching them and it brought me back into a little glimpse of camp.

One isolated incident I would like to share with you is with a student (for the sake of confidentiality named “Nick”) I had heard even before I met this child that he was “one of those” students. A student that was talked about a lot in the teachers lounge and not for good reasons. A student that was complained about, and called a (excuse my language but this is a direct quote) “punk little s***” Now imagine being in my position this is what you were told before even meeting this student.

Immediately I was brought back to camp and counselor orientation where you and your wife have built a life on giving counselors and campers alike a chance to become something, a chance to find a purpose, a chance to get in touch with their inner tiger. I decided to have a different perspective on this child, and not judge him by what I had heard or even by the way he acted the first day with me (which mind you was not good) I decided to act this way because I was so humbled by the fact that after I had not been the most supportive of camp’s leadership my first year you and Susie Ma’am still let me come back and find a new path and new direction, and gave me one of the most unforgettable summers of my life.

Another thing Champions taught me was about mutual respect. Often times in my profession I have seen teachers who do not treat their students with respect, but still expect to be treated with respect themselves. I have made a point of it to use “ma’am and sir” with not only my superiors but with my students as well. Now this all came full circle when after about a month working with Nick I was doing recess duty. If you all can gather anything from an elementary school child it is that recess is the golden thirty minutes of freedom for them. Well Nick decided to give up that recess time and seek me out to talk with me. He made a point of it to tell me, “I really like that when you answer my questions you say yes sir.”

I was taken aback he had noticed that and merely asked him what about it he liked. He told me that it made him feel important. Now our conversation could have stopped there and I would have been satisfied that I had made an impact, however he went on to tell me that his dad was “one of those strict parents” and he had to call his dad by yes sir and his dad was obviously important to him so by me passing on that simple word he then felt important. I am so blessed to have been in the environment you have created in Marble Falls. I think of camp daily, and there was not a moment this past summer that I did not wish I wasn’t teaching dance at Olympia or having late night talks with my Midis. Really what it boils down to is I would have not been able to really be impacted the way camp needs to impact you without you and Susie Ma’am giving me that second chance to return to camp. Thank you for everything, and have a blessed Holiday season!

We love getting messages like this one!

Until tomorrow!

Steve Sir

We are in the Pokhara airport waiting for our flight to Kathmandu on a dual prop plane.

Our chariot on Buddha Air!

The fog is thick, so our flight will be delayed, just as the flight here was.  On the way up, we waited for over 3 hours for our flight.  No one seemed at all put out.  Being delayed in Nepal creates less inconvenience for the natives than missing a green light creates for the average American.

As we wait, there are a few confidence-reducing elements of our flight experience.  Here is a sampling:

• The airport is not immune to the government-mandated rolling blackouts.  While I am not intimately familiar with all aspects of air traffic safety, I suspect that at least one piece of equipment requires electricity.  I am not speculating much beyond that thought.  Let’s all just pretend there is a generator somewhere . . . yeah, a generator.  I am sure that is the answer.  Of course, I cannot hear any generator at all.  They must have a special stealth generator.  [Note on blackouts: Kathmandu and Pokhara both experience blackouts for 30-50% of every day.  The tea houses on our trek, however, had constant and ready electricity.  This was of dubious use to us as they had no heat, but the lights never went out.  As a result, each structure in these mountain villages has a single light at night, creating a mirror of the stars above.]
• We saw a sign upon entry to the airport that celebrated Civil Aviation Day on December 7, 2011.
  

  December 7th? Really?!?

  I find this amusing for 2 reasons: it is my birthday (yea!) and Pearl Harbor Day (boo!).  Think for a moment of the most infamous days in aviation.  My top two are 9/11 and Pearl Harbor.  OK, what then are the odds of Civil Aviation Day falling randomly on one of them?  I think someone in the world of civil aviation in Asia has an odd sense of humor.

• I went through security.  As I walked through the metal detector, I beeped.  No one even turned a head.  I realized that this nonchalance was because everyone gets frisked.  I was frisked and given the A-OK.  Me, and my large Swiss army knife.  I would like to believe that they would have stopped me if I had a machete, but I think that is just my natural optimism.
  

  The elaborate security system

• An employee is strolling the waiting area fingering prayer beads.  I appreciate his efforts, but worry about their necessity.
• No effort is made to update us on our flight departure time.  We are now 45 minutes past our take-off time and there has been absolutely no announcement.  They did activate and test the PA system, but then did not use it.  I wonder why they have one – for Karaoke later?
• The rate of spitting seems to increase in the departure area. Here is the point where I report that we have become accustomed to the spitting. That, however, would be a serious lie.  We have adjusted to the lack of heat, the inconsistent electricity, the squatters and the lack of timeliness.  We have practically gone native.  But my head still snaps violently whenever a fellow passenger pulls up phlegm from their solar plexus at volume levels roughly equivalent to a vacuum cleaner.   [NOTE: I have spared you any pictures here.]

Please remember that my brilliant and talented wife is a highly reluctant flyer.  A 737 can make her nervous.  Prop planes, prayer beads and power outages do not help.  I simply marvel at her stoic resolve.  This is not easy for her, but she wants this experience so much for all of us that she just puts her head down and goes.  Maybe we should loan her the beads.

While we wait in this clean and secure environment, I thought this would be a good time to wrap up my thoughts from the trek.

Unequaled Bonding

When we were in Europe, I commented on my rediscovery of the joys of walking.  Walking facilitates conversation that is relaxed and thoughtful.  It encourages a constant rotation of conversation partners.  When strolling, we reset our internal clock to a pace that is more natural and in tune with our bodies.  I found that I was more likely to truly see what was around me – the pace made me aware and the extra minutes gave me the opportunity.

Our most intense walking days in Europe were in Prague when we found the tram was not working.  I am guessing we walked almost 20 miles in 3 days.

Over the past 6 days, we walked between 50 and 55 miles.   We also did so in the presence of stunning beauty and abject poverty.

Machapuchare at sunrise - Sacred and unclimbable

Elderly women carrying leaves

The former lifted our souls, the latter weighed on our hearts.  We also saw that despite the poverty, the people here seemed oddly content and at peace (I plan to write a blog soon that discusses this observation).  We saw animals at close range and met smiling children that gave us thumbs up.

On the way to school

At school

In short, we had an environment perfectly designed for thoughtful and deep (and silly and shallow) conversation.  We talked about philosophy and college and dating and drugs and humor and sports and music and pets and food and personal goals.  We covered as much territory with our mouths as we did with our feet.

These talks have made us closer.  They have also helped us better understand each of our children.  I have noted before that we tend to think of our children as being younger than they actually are (and they think of themselves as older).  This trip has forced Susie and me to absolutely update our opinions.  We know exactly how mature our kids are.  The three oldest are kids no more, but young adults instead.  That realization is initially jarring, but ultimately satisfying.  We have gotten them this far.

While I will never forget the sunrise on Poon Hill, this will be my favorite memory.

At Poon Hill

Oh Good, Noodle Soup

For 6 days and 15 meals, we ate from the same menu.  We went to 10 different establishments, but saw the same menu over and over again.  3 types of omelet (plain, cheese, mushroom), 4-5 soups (noodle, vegetable noodle, mushroom, onion), 3 fried noodle dishes, 3 spaghettis and 3 macaronis (plain, cheese, tuna) and eggs cooked 5 different ways.  You might think that such massive variety might never get old. You would be right.

The only variant was whether they served chicken.  If so, you could have chicken in your soup, your spaghetti or your fried noodles.  At one such establishment, Susie poked her head into the kitchen to check on an order of masala tea (dubbed by Terrill as “Christmas in a cup” for its spices) and she saw the preparation process.  I would rather not get too graphic here.  Instead, let me just assure you that our poultry was quite fresh and had probably been frolicking with Virginia minutes earlier.

Oddly, the lack of variety was the least appealing aspect of the trek for me.  Hearing the Belgian man snore through whisper thin bamboo walls?  No problem.  Sleeping in such cold that 3 layers of clothes, a hat, a sleeping bag and blanket were all required?  I’m good.

Susie enjoying the central heating

Walking 10 miles daily with over 80% being steps?  My legs suffered, but I embraced the challenge.

But if I see one more bowl of Ramen style noodles with spinach in it, I might weep.

The Steam Team

On our last full day, we were descending rapidly from 6000 feet to 4000 feet.  We started at 35-40 degrees, so we wore multiple layers.  At lunch, we sat in the sun (with noodle soup on the table) and I decided to shed my cashmere sweater.  After I did so, the rest of the family started to laugh.  “Daddy, you are steaming!”

Sure enough, steam rose from my shoulders and back as if I were afire.  I asked Susie if this was because I am so darn hot.

Sadly, she said no.

You cannot see the steam, but you can see the sweat (I was carrying 2 backpacks in my defense). The girls are clearly impressed.

A Canine Expressionist

While walking, we often found ourselves accompanied by dogs.  Since rabies is  highly common in Nepal, we avoided any contact with them (if you have a 10-year old daughter, you know how difficult this can be), but that did not stop the dogs from hanging out with us.

Some were incredibly healthy looking; others less so.

One particular fellow was extra sorry looking.  He had a dirty yellow coat and was missing half an ear.  We felt a need to name him – Vincent Van Dog.

Cool’s School

As we talked with Cool Sir on the last days, we learned that he is an even more interesting person than we had thought.

Around 12 years ago, he guided a 27-day trek that paid him over $60/day.  Upon the completion of the trek, he found himself with almost $2,000 – a king’s ransom in his mind.  As a frame of reference, a teacher makes $1,000 in a year.  He wondered what to do with his newly earned fortune.

In his community, the closest school required crossing a stream.  At least, it was a stream most of the time.  During monsoon season, the stream became an impassable river.  As a result, each year, kids from his village fell 3-4 months behind their peers.  After 6^th or 7^th grade, they typically dropped out as they were embarrassed to be in grades behind their peers.

Cool Sir’s solution was to build and fund a school. His wife cannot read or write.  His first 2 children did not get an education,  But his school assured that his last 3 kids and the rest of the village is getting a better education.  He is an extraordinary man.

Our kids have chosen to share some of their own savings with him to help with the school.  This trip has been even more educational than I had hoped.

Cool and the Gang (and our gang) Cool SIr is above Virginia

Steve Sir

An iconic shot for the last China blog

We are flying Dragonair to Kathmandu.  Our adventure in China has come to a close.

It seems like a great time to summarize my thoughts on this fascinating country.  I have spent a fair amount of time thinking about what to say about China.  I know I cannot find a unifying theme.  Instead, our 24 days here have been a collage of images, thoughts, smells, tastes, sounds and toilet options.

This blog is my effort to share this collage.

Communism

Mao must be flipping in his grave.  China is a Communist country just as surely as I am a kitten.

Here is the evidence.

China embraces entrepreneurship and wealth like few places I have ever seen.  We saw improvised stores, vendors in parks, street guides, knock-off markets and Chinese QVC.  You can buy anything and everything, from huge pearls to beautiful ethnic robes to works of art to Gucci bags.  It is for sale for the person willing to haggle and spend.

Every town is festooned with billboards touting Western brands.  Status is a mobile phone.  Marc Jacobs and Sephora and Estee Lauder are everywhere.  In fact, so is Playboy, though we saw no evidence that they know what that brand signifies.

We saw people lining up to worship at the god of wealth.  We saw idols with coins in their mouths and no tail end (so that the money cannot go out).  We watch Good Morning Asia with a 30 minute segment on investment with two men talking earnestly with glasses of unconsumed wine in front of them.=

Mao remains an icon, but his views no longer hold sway.  Sure, you can buy his Little Red Book almost anywhere, but it is usually next to the chopsticks, throwing stars and samurai swords.

Here is my favorite tidbit on communism: apparently young people are joining the Communist Party . . . for the political and networking connections.  Apparently, becoming a Communist is a great business move for a free market fanatic.

Atheism

This is a tricky one.  Roughly 70% of the Chinese list themselves as atheist.  Communism is atheist by definition.  The Russians were adamant to stomp out religion, destroying sites and banning religious gatherings.  China seemed lukewarm in its abolition.  The Muslim Quarter and its Mosque never missed a beat.  Buddhist and Daoist shrines continued unfettered.  Christianity was discouraged, but not wiped out.

Now, Shanghai gears up for Christmas.  Hong Kong seems to celebrate the season with every opportunity.  Sure, their enthusiasm is clearly driven by the commerce aspects of the season. The moment Thanksgiving ended, the Christmas trees were up and every variety of Christmas decoration available.    Yet there is an odd difference.  The omnipresent Christmas carols are piped from every speaker, but there is a mild difference to American stores – the carols include the religious ones.  Silent Night, Oh Come All Ye Faithful and Away in a Manger are the choices, not Frosty the Snowman, Santa Claus is Coming to Town or (dare I even name it?) Jingle Bell Rock.  I find this interesting.  I understand the fact that US stores are committed to religious inclusion so that they only play secular music.  But why would China embrace the religious songs?  I really do not know.  But it is so odd for a nation that officially repudiates religion.

I will admit that Hong Kong is different from the rest of China, but I saw similar trends in the mainland.

Hong Kong Changed China More than Vice Versa

In 1997, England turned Hong Kong over to China.  The deal was consummated a decade earlier when China was only dabbling with liberalizing its economy. Many people worried that the economic status and vigor that the city-state had developed would be destroyed after its reacquisition.

It seems the opposite happened.

First, the Chinese made several critical decisions.  Hong Kong would have separate laws and government.  It would not adopt the Yuan, but maintain the Hong Kong dollar.  Private companies would remain private.

These policies were not out of kindness, but instead out of a desire for “hard” currency – currencies like the dollar that trade freely and have international value.  In the 1980’s, the Yuan was without international value.  It might be undervalued now, but at least it can be exchanged.  In the 80’s, China needed hard currency if it wanted to buy anything that it did not manufacture itself.

Hong Kong became China’s ATM.  They decided that they liked it.  They then decided to make Shanghai the next Hong Kong.  Deng Xipeng (sp) committed the country to a plan to make the economy freer without providing other freedoms at the same time.

The appetite for dollars remained strong.  In fact, I suspect that the policies that have resulted in China holding over $3 trillion is a result of this hunger for US currency.

Economic Freedom Without Political Freedom

This is a hard phenomenon to comment on.  Many commentators seem to believe that the internet and economic freedom would result inexorably in a deep hunger for great personal freedom.  The protests at Tiannaman Square seem to suggest this.

Yet I am not so sure.  I think that eventually China will need to liberalize politically, but I also think that the Chinese crave monetary success much more than political freedom.  This balance is different from what we see in the West.  They will be willing to trade freedom for success much longer than we ever would.

Four Kids Make Us Fourtunate!

As I have documented, Susie is a star for bearing 80% of a basketball team.  Since China adopted the One Family, One Child policy, large families are simply a marvel. Our large size made us celebrities. Whenever we found ourselves being photographed, we chose to embrace the opportunity to meet new people.  In every city, we engendered smiles and laughs.

I, however, did find the sexism of many of our new friends somewhat annoying.  On several occasions, we had people look at our 2 boys and 2 girls and then say to Susie, “Two boys, you so lucky!”

Grrr.

Old Habits Die Hard

The older Chinese cling to their ways.  They practice their Tai Chi daily.  They still spit enthusiastically.  They seem to be wearing the same outfit today that they wore years ago, but they each seem to adhere to a different look.  Some still wear their Mao shirts.  Others are wearing suits (even on amusement park flume rides).  Perhaps my favorite is the pajamas.  Some Chinese women wear PJs everywhere – Hello Kitty, pandas, whatever.  You can see the younger generation rolling their eyes, but the PJ crew cares not.

This underscores the massive generation gap.  The younger generation talks on their mobile phones while the older set talks while playing cards.  The kids wear Abercrombie and Fitch as they pass veterans in Mao shirts.   One group eats chicken feet as the kids eat KFC.

Personal Space, We Do Not Need Any Personal Space

The Chinese are comfortable being close – really close.   In subways, in queues, in noodle shops, on the street.  They like it close.  We had a trouble modifying our territorial bubbles.  Ultimately, we did OK, but the Sleeper Bus was too much for us.  We just were not ready for a return to the womb.

Uniform Education

We hear a lot about the rigor of Chinese education, but I saw a huge emphasis on uniformity.  To start, every student wears a uniform.

At 8AM every morning, all students in China line up in the same way and perform the same exercise routine to the same recording.

I suspect that this might be one of the reasons they have less civil disobedience.  Duty and respect and conformity have long been hallmarks of Chinese culture.  It is not just a part of the totalitarian regime, it goes back to Confucius.

As a result, you have a people that can accomplish amazing things once they put their collective minds to it (the Great Wall, massive economic growth, leadership in green energy equipment), but it is not well-suited to develop innovative or revolutionary ideas.

Hygiene Might Not Be Their Scene

You are never really prepared to see a 2 year old walk to a bush, squat and (how should I put this) do their business.  And business is good.  The little ones do not have diapers, just pants with slits from the front to the lowest point of the pants to the back of the back waistline.

As adults, the facilities remain oddly foreign.  I have documented the squatters/holes in the ground.  Some of the facilities in the rural areas were simply shocking.  One of our favorite observations is that most of the squatters were built by American Standard.  I just love this.

Ultimately, China has made a huge impact on us, but we are not sure what the impact is.  We loved the people, but I am not sure we understand them.  We have seen beauty that is unmatched next to public incineration pits, squalor and trash.

We have seen communism that is not communism.

We saw a spiritual people in a country with record levels of atheism.

We saw that population control measures transform the way people see the world.

We loved our time here, but it is time to go to Nepal!

Steve Sir