Tuesday, December 26, 2006

EATING TIME


When it comes to trying new things foodwise I am right there. I am Johnny on the spot.And more often than not it turns out for the better. Though a time or two here in PRC and in Saigon, I almost lived to regret my enthusiasum for trying new dishes, many of which were unidentifible.
Of course many times it is the indentifible ones that will turn you inside out. The unidentifible ones are always good for a game of "guess the mystery meat", or "what is on that stick?" Unfortunately China doesn't have too many unidentifible meats on a stick. No, it is quite easy to tell what is going down the gullet. And it ain't often pretty.
Why right next to my school's gate they got the Bar-B-Que set up. And they are selling little birds on a stick; whole birds, mind you. Now if you ask they'll tell you they are sparrows-I'll let in on a little secret here. in this part of China, hell maybe all over it, many believe sparrows have Viagra like powers, but chances are they are baby chicks. Now I don't believe I have ever seen a dead, gutted, shoved on a stick, ready for 'Queing sparrow before. But I have it on good authority that a sparrow done up in such a manner, as previously described, looks awfully similiar to a a chick ready for the 'Que; of which I have seen many and tried to get a taste for, once.
The way I look at it BBQ is BBQ. Though now I have a list of exceptions to this rule and well Chinese BBQ'ed baby chicks or 'sparrow' are on it. At this time they are the only such exception. However, they might come off the list if I get the bottle of 'Queing sauce I've been a hankering for, or some ranch sauce. Either one of these things will make dam near anything taste good enough to keep down. And this is a vital element when eating mystery meat, on a stick, or otherwise.
This brings me back to the point want to get to which is in China there are very few mystery meats. No sir, there is little opportunity to pretend you are eating something you are not. It is quite impossible to imagine you are eating a plump, juicy, juices running down your arm, South Side Chicago brat, with all the love that a wonderful Italian hard-roll can hold, when you are face-to-face with a chicken's foot, or claw. Especially if said foot still has the toe nail on it-side note: I am willing to show any and all the proper way to de-claw a 'Qued, pickled, fried, presevered, or Wal-Mart vaccumed packed chicken's foot, with one's mouth of course. No, it is not easy at all.
And so as I sit here turkey-less I thought I might list all the non-traditional holiday foods I have crossed paths with over the last year or so: fish brains, cow stomach, cow intestines, fish eye soup, chicken claws, boilded pig brains, pig's feet, nose, ear and nuckle, fish head, grubs, grasshopper, scorpion, camel on a stick, dog, stew cat-pan fried,
alligator,sea horse, and star fish. I can say that unfortunatily most did not taste like chicken, though the gator did. And so I wish you all happy Holidays.
Zemanta Pixie

Christmas Recall


Last week there was a call from dozen Chinese graduate students to reject Christmas and return to Confucian ideals(non-Christian Chinese that is). I have no opinion on this call to return to the past one way or the other. It's their world and I'm just passing through. But today I am reminded that perhaps the Chinese people shouldn't be too quick to reject Christmas(at least out of hand) but rather discover the non-commercial, non-western religious overtones, pro-Confucian ideals in it.
I was walking down the street doing some Christmas shopping(can't even escape it here in a atheist/Buddhist country) for friends, "when what to my wandering eyes should appear", to steal from the good poem but a Christmas tree. A HUGE Christmas tree. It was sitting right in the middle of the shopping square here in our toney district. Three or four girls where hawking the chance to buy Christmas "Blessings" for ones family and future year. A very Chinese thing to do. Stop by any temple here and there is at least one person asking for 'Fu' fortune and or Fanrong prosperity. And maybe the students see this as a bad thing. Maybe they see the people replacing deep tradition with shallow, commercialized, imported Western customs and are afraid of a loss of identity. Perhaps this is true. ANd of course I am looking at this from a poly-cultural view gleaned from being raised in the good ole US of A. But it seems to me that many people here and there and everywhere miss that Christmas isn't about crass commercialism, or trees, or Father Christmas. Rather it is about asking for peace, understanding and forgiveness. It is about asking for these blessings to be bestowed upon our neighbors and not our selves. It is not to see how much material goods we can accumulate or how many blessings we can ask for ourselves. It is about giving, not shopping, not getting and definitily not about taking our things back to the store. Unfortunately that is the image and the idea that is transmitted and exported around the world. It is one more thing for people around the world to push-back against which is understandable as the message is shallow and often demeaning. Couple it with the crazy Christianists and their unholy war to save all us 'sinners' and well is it any wonder there is push-back.
For me Christmas isn't about wishing and hoping and praying and pleading for wishes and blessing for one's self. Rather it is all these things and more but doing for others; doing it for strangers even. ANd I think that message is compatible with Confucius and his ideals, hell this message is compatible with most every religion, belief or philosophy. It is the messengers that foul it all up and become to concerned with dogma and forget compassion and love and forgiveness and most importantly giving. ANd not the giving they do in church so everyone can see you and hopefully think what a swell person you are,(chances are they only spy on you long enough to see the cash disappear into the basket or plate or hat before moving on to disparage your clothes or you car or house or kids. You'll never win this people). No this is not the giving that is important. It is the giving from the heart without comment, without condemnation, without judgement and without stings. It is giving to save the person before you and not the 'soul' you'll report back to your church masters. "Mark another notch on the big board Pastor. I bagged me another soul at the Wal-Mart", or in some 'impoverished' country, or where ever godless, heathen souls are to be found. Until this proper message, of what this glorious season is all about, is emphasized nothing will change and our Western customs will be seen for what we have allowed them to become. And so in the spirit of true giving I sent the people of this polluted little river town a message of love and happy blessings from my family to theirs: "To the people of Sanming my family wishes you peace and prosperity in the coming year. May your days be pleasant and filled with joy. All the best. From the Burns's As I was filling out my card I was trying to explain all this tom my translator. I think she got some of it. But often they are not use to such words from foreigners and so maybe my message was lost. But never the less it was a wonderful opportunity to share with the people here and show not all Westerns are cold capitalists, crazy Christianist or craven coveting self-centered Plilistines. Of course most of them were just staring wide-eyed and open mouthed at the loa wai in their mist. I don't think a one of them realized I was just engaging with the Spirit of Christmas as it exists and as it is found here in the land of tea, pandas and mind boggling contradictions. Peace and Merry Christmas to you and yours from this fog-shrouded river town, known as Sanming City, PRC.
Zemanta Pixie

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Girl's basketball here in my little piece of China is a sight to behold. It is rough and tumble, full of mindless violence, like a brawl. The only difference the brawlers here try to score points; 2 at a time. But after the victory there is no overturning of cars and no tearing down of Starbucks.

They move in a pack around the ball carrier, sort of like the dust and smell around Pig Pen. Their eyes are red with fury; their hands like claws scraping and clamoring at the girl with the ball. Sweat stings their eyes, as they make another sortie into the fray.

Seldom is a girl far from the pack, as the ball is usually some where inside the whirling, twisting mass of blurred hands, faces, hair and bodies. If a girl is alone, standing away from the violent horde, it is usually because she thinks the other team will score and she is trying to set up the 'fast break.' Or just as likely she is tired and needs a moments peace away from the flying elbows, the dagger like hand strikes, or the bone crunching slaps, all intended to either secure the ball for one's team or force the other team to relinquish control. If this happens it invites a scrum which is usually stopped when a ref notices one of the ladies finally has control but is walking with the ball. In all fairness if the ball is 'bounced' in a proper manner most of the girls would believe it is a "loose" ball and therefore open season. Of course a time or two I have seen the lone girl usually suddenly, violently, and mindlessly throw herself into the fray hoping against hope that she will some how hit the person with the ball, thereby causing them to drop the ball(they are the equivalent of hockey enforcers without the stick, ice or penalty minutes. It is hoped that her teammate will recover it and make a mad dash, while trying to remember to bounce the ball, to the basket before the swarm has a chance to recover and overtake her. Of course the swarm usually overtakes the girl and a new scrum ensues. The swarm is suprisingly fast when it has to be. This is where the girl standing outside the enferno comes in.

After the the opposite team scores or her team retrieves or recovers the ball usually her teammate sees her through the myriad of flying bodies, hands, feet and awkwardly launches the ball in her general direction. Fans on the sidelines pray the ball reaches her before the mobile moss pit can react and catch up. If the ball reaches the girl in a timely fashion and isn't thrown too awkwardly there is a 40-60 chance she'll score. More often than not this tactic fails for a plethora of reasons: the ball is blocked, dropped, bounced out of bounds, went over her head, or the scrum surrounds the ball and her with it too quickly. Or rarities of rarities a jump is declared; or even rarer still a foul is called. And then the dog and pony show starts all over again.

Yet despite the rather dismal track record of this strategy it used continuously. Of course the style of play, the level of the players dictate that this must be how things are done. By that I mean the style of play is not "Showtime", the "Triangle Defense"; there is no setting up of the perimeter or going "man-to-man"; they don't even go in to a "zone", unless one is very generous with the definition of zone. Instead it is a rugby game on a basketball court. It becomes a scrum of the first order. The strategy is simple, if not always elegant, get the ball, take the it to the hole and score some points. How this is done is irrelevant and if blood erupts from lips or gashes on the face and arms, so be it. If bone erupts though skin that is another matter; one luckily I have not experienced.

They are like electrons and protons flying violently, aimlessly around the decaying, erupting nucleus of a rare element. An element whose half-life is exactly the amount of time it takes for a half of the game to end.
Zemanta Pixie