Reisen eines Doppelstaatsbürger

Every week I write one blog post in German… 

Wie dieses Blog zeigt, merke ich viele Unterschiede zwischen mein Leben in den USA und Europa gegenüber meine Erfahrungen in China.

Mein Vater, der vor ein Paar Tagen mit meiner Mutter aus Amerika angereist ist um an unserer großen Chinesischen Hochzeit teilzunehmen, hat gestern bemerkt, dass ich eigentlich noch keine wahre Auslandserfahrungen in meinem Leben gemacht habe, obwohl ich schon seit dem jungen Alter von ein Paar Monaten über den Atlantic hin und her reiste, und mehrere Westeuropäische Länder besucht habe.

Wie kann dass sein? Ich habe so viel Erfahrungen gemacht, in Deutschland und den Staaten, Frankreich, England, und Italien, Irland und der Schweiz, aber doch ist es alles zu Hause für mich, denn ich bin als Doppelstaatsbürger geboren: als Bürger der Vereinigten Staaten und von Europa, bzw. Deutschland.

USA–Europa ist mein “Geburtsland”, und so stelle ich nun fest, dass ich mich eigentlich noch nie ausserhalb des Landes begeben habe. Dabei dachte ich immer, ich währe viel in anderen Ländern gereist. Ja, das bin ich, für Einzelstaatsbürger Verhältnisse – ich kenne viele Amerikaner die sich noch nie aus den USA begebt haben.

Während dieser Reise ins Ausland, nach China, das Geburtsland meiner wunderbaren Ehefrau, war aber alles recht neu für mich.

Das Wasser kann man nicht aus der Leitung trinken, in der Stadt laufen immer viel mehr Leute rum, auf den Straßen hupen die Autos lauter und unendlich Mal öfter, das Essen ist anders, die Sprache verstehe ich ausser den wichtigsten Wörtern nicht, und die Liste geht weiter.

Das steht im starken Gegensatz zu Besuchen zu anderen Ländern, in Europa und sämtlichen Staaten von Amerika, wo ich mich überall nicht sehr fremd vorkomme.

Hier gewöhne ich mich auch langsam dran, dass ich fast immer von einigen Leuten angestarrt werde, während ich auf der Straße bin.

Ach, wie schön, dass ich entdeckt habe, dass ich bis jetzt noch keine Auslandserfahrung gemacht habe, und dass sie jetzt doch endlich mache!

Mein Vater, der Amerikaner ist, erzählte mir, dass er seine erste solche Erfahrung in meinem jetzigen Alter gemacht hat, als er nach Deutschland gereist ist. Für ihn war all das als Amerikaner auch auf ähnlicher Weise neu, wie all das für mich jetzt neu ist.

Er erzählt mir, dass er von diesen Erfahrungen als junger Mann im Ausland viele Lebensfähigkeiten gelernt hat, die er auch jetzt in seiner Chinareise anwenden kann: zum Beispiel, die nonverbale Kommunikation.

So. Mal sehen welche Fähigkeiten ich durch meine erste Auslandserfahrung lerne!

Tianlong Ancient Town (Part 3)

This description of our recent visit to the historic village of Tianglong is continued from Part 2.

My wonderful wife and I went to a private room in the history museum, where Bapa, my wonderful wife’s father, was meeting the friends from his badminton club and a Chinese opera master, one of the many artists involved in that day’s performances.

The master talked and laughed with the friend of Bapa who owned much of the town. The master held a lively conversation despite his advanced years.

Looking back, I guess this artist was probably in his seventies. He came out of a time when the public educational system in China was still supportive of training in the arts.

A British student of anthropology at the university of the southwestern city in China that we’re staying in told me that In more recent years schools have been giving more and more pressure on students to learn their academic subjects.

With all the work demanded in public schools these days, no time remains for the rigorous training that mastery of any art form requires.

You will, however, get support if you decide that you want to pursue piano or another popular instrument as a career, but this decision effectively bars you from any chance of success on the academic track.

More traditional forms of Chinese art, however, such as Chinese opera, have all but vanished from the catalogue of disciplines that young artists engage in these days. They are not recognized as a proven path to success by schools.

Upon seeing me, the master told my wonderful wife and I that he had a French disciple.

It felt like he wanted me to be comfortable there, and that he wanted to relate to me by pointing out something we both had in common – we both knew some Westerners.

Soon we all left the room to see the exhibition, or rather, to take photos of each other in front of some of the bigger items of the exhibition, including a big hand crank tofu maker and a traditional room with elaborate wood carvings.

Taking photos seems to be more popular in China. I’d like to write about how the activity seems to unify people, bringing them together.

Details in the interior design of the museum.

To be continued…

Tianlong Ancient Town (Part 2)

…continued from Tianlong Ancient Town (Part 1).

As we made our way in front of the stage, Bapa, the father of my wonderful wife, wanted to go to the museum of the grounds.

He went ahead, and my wonderful wife and Mama stayed by the stage, where about a dozen huge drums stood ready for the performance.

Colorfully dressed performers walked onto the stage now, and I was surprised to here drum beats coming from the loudspeakers, instead of the drums themselves.

Like pop-singers lip-syncing, these dancers mimicked drum beating with balletic grace.

As soon as the number ended, three hosts came onto stage dressed as if for the Oscars. A TV camera was aimed at them, and as they spoke with a master-of-ceremony boom to their voices, I felt like I was watching China’s Got Talent, which is usually the the type of show playing on Chinese television when I happen to pass by a TV.

After the introduction, by the two ladies and a gentlemen dressed in formal attire, one performance followed another, each with a different dance troupe featuring a different set of shiny costumes in bright colors.

The second piece made me think I was watching a kung fu movie. The all-men cast of this number wore tightly-fitting black pants, a golden-white long-sleeved top, and a red belt around their waste.

Their movements exuded martial energy with each pose, as if they were ready for a kung-fu movie poster photo to be taken of them at any moment.

The music for this piece, however, sounded less Chinese than Bavarian to me. Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana, often re-used in some movies’ fight scenes, came to mind as I heard the the sustained minor chords, and the heavy bass and drums.

Though the quality of the performance was at a professional level, it didn’t fulfill my hope of seeing traditional music in this town.

All the pieces seemed to be pop-music with traditional flavors mixed in. If I hadn’t come with expectations of folk music, however, I might have enjoyed it more.

And so it was with relief that we left this performance to join Bapa in the museum. We found him there with a Chinese opera master and his friend, a main stock-holder of this tourist village.

Not only the performers were dressed colorfully. The cleaning staff too had it’s share in the extravaganza.

To be continued…

Tianlong Ancient Town (Part 1)

Today after finishing teaching my English student at noon, I joined my wonderful wife and her parents Bapa and Mama in going to the historic village of Tianlong located near our southwestern Chinese city.

Bapa’s badminton-club friend invited us to come enjoy the festivities, including traditional dance performances. The friend owned the largest share of this historic village, which seems to be a tourism project.

A plaque for Tianlong Ancient Town.

Even though it was Thursday, a weekday, we saw hundreds of cars filling the parking lot, and many people on the walking paths. Summer vacation had started in the schools over a week ago, and families were out to have a good time.

The first curiosity I encountered in the village were the endless number of umbrellas, some colorful and some featuring an ornate lacy design.

My wonderful wife has explained to me that many Chinese women want to have their skin be as white as possible, and that many movie stars have this quality. Here was a demonstration of this en masse.

Umbrellas!

The parking lot, bathrooms, and paths almost made feel like I was back in America. Everything was so clean and fresh.

The parking lot had neat rows of trees and clear lane demarcations painted on it. This stood in stark contrast with the all but faded street markings on many major intersections of the major southwestern city we were living in.

The bathrooms featured perhaps the first automatic water faucets I’ve encountered so far in China after over five weeks of visiting the southwest.

The cement pedestrian paths had a uniformly clean surface, unlike just about all other sidewalks I’ve seen here.

These are small details perhaps, but they almost made me feel like I was in a different country.

I knew I was back in China when I saw a motorcycle pass through the parking lot with four young men all squeezed on top of it.

Not much worry about traffic laws in this part of the world.

I saw the four friends walking together later.

We arrived at a plaza, on one side of which was a lake, and on the other, a stage, flanked on either side by thick towers.

The plaza.

Women wearing the traditional red outfits of the Miao minority stood next to the stage getting ready to perform. The stone backdrop featured massive social-realist art in relief.

To be continued…

Tianlong Ancient Town (Part 1)

Today after finishing teaching my English student at noon, I joined my wonderful wife and her parents Bapa and Mama in going to the historic village of Tianlong located near our southwestern Chinese city.

Bapa’s badminton-club friend invited us to come enjoy the festivities, including traditional dance performances. The friend owned the largest share of this historic village, which seems to be a tourism project.

Even though it was Thursday, a weekday, we saw hundreds of cars filling the parking lot, and many people on the walking paths. Summer vacation had started in the schools over a week ago, and families were out to have a good time.

The first curiosity I encountered in the village were the endless number of umbrellas, some colorful and some featuring an ornate lacy design.

My wonderful wife has explained to me that many Chinese women want to have their skin be as white as possible, and that many movie stars have this quality. Here was a demonstration of this en masse.

The parking lot, bathrooms, and paths almost made feel like I was back in America. Everything was so clean and fresh.

The parking lot had neat rows of trees and clear lane demarcations painted on it. This stood in stark contrast with the all but faded street markings on many major intersections of the major southwestern city we were living in.

The bathrooms featured perhaps the first automatic water faucets I’ve encountered so far in China after over five weeks of visiting the southwest.

The cement pedestrian paths had a uniformly clean surface, unlike just about all other sidewalks I’ve seen here.

These are small details perhaps, but they almost made me feel like I was in a different country.

I knew I was back in China when I saw a motorcycle pass through the parking lot with four young men all squeezed on top of it.

We arrived at a plaza, on one side of which was a lake, and on the other, a stage, flanked on either side by thick towers.

Women wearing the traditional red outfits of the Miao minority stood next to the stage getting ready to perform. The stone backdrop featured massive social-realist art in relief.

To be continued…

Huangguoshu Waterfall (Part 1 – getting there)

It had been raining hard and long a couple weeks ago in this city in southwestern China where it seems to rain every day of the year. Rainy season is the best time to see a waterfall, so we decided to go to Huangguoshu Waterfall, Asia’s biggest.

Because of all the heavy rain in the past few weeks, this natural force was especially powerful during our visit.

We left home early, around 7 a.m., because the drive would be about two hours.

Once we arrived in a nearby village or city, Bapa, the father of my wonderful wife, asked a pedestrian who seemed to be a local about how to get to the waterfall from there.

They talked for a few minutes, and then the local got in the car, in the backseat with my wonderful wife and me, next to her.

The local filled the car with a sweaty odor, as if he hadn’t washed in a while. His skin was leathery, and his hair unkempt and oily.

He talked loudly, as if he were shouting across a little rice patty, but friendly, and talked a lot, so that it seemed to me that there must be a lot to know about our ten minute drive to the waterfall.

I asked my wonderful wife about the man. She told me that Bapa preferred to ask a local instead of going to a tourist place, which would charge more money. She added that Bapa, would, of course, give the local a good tip for his time.

With the man’s almost constant speech, my wonderful wife covered her nose without him noticing. She told me that the smell of his breath was impressive.

I wondered why this man could ride so far with us, about ten minutes, without having planned this excursion or a return trip. I guess he might have been on a break, or out of work, and that he had experience in hitching a ride back.

We got there, and the final help the local gave was to tell us not to park in the parking lot by the entrance, but the one behind the house. The main lot is for tourist busses he explained. This parking lot seemed to be in the courtyard of the barracks-style housing of the park’s employees.

To be continued…

Searching for an experience with Chinese medicine

Our Chinese medicine and Ayurveda doctor in California told my wonderful wife and I to visit a Chinese medicine specialist while we were visiting China for our honeymoon, because China has excellent practitioners.

Chinese medicine to me means a form of health care that is an alternative to mainstream Western health care, and one that has its origins in ancient China.

Since we arrived in China over a month ago, I’ve asked my wonderful wife a few times about visiting a Chinese medicine doctor. She told me not to bother with that, because we would have to wait for a long time in a crowded space only to end up with some expensive Chinese herbs.

Yesterday, my mother asked me over a WeChat audio call whether she could see an acupuncturist while in China, because she has heard that many people go to China to learn acupuncture, a sign that they must be good there.

Again, my wonderful wife replied with a cautionary tale. She visited an acupuncturist once, to get help with a knee injury.

After waiting for a while, since it was a walk-in only place, she sat on a bed in a big open room. Old people and crying babies with acupuncture needles stuck in their heads all shared the same room with her. Many sounds filled the space, especially those of crying babies.

She doesn’t recommend the experience.

“And t’ai chi?” My mother and I have also asked my wonderful wife about this form of Chinese medicine – opening the meridians, the channels of energy in our body, through exercise, instead of through needles, massage, or herbs.

To this my wonderful wife gave a similarly skeptical answer based on her years of experience in the city: “You’ll just get overcharged and you won’t be able to find a quiet place to learn.”

And then it happened. This morning I learned to open my meridians from a retired Chinese medicine doctor and another elder…for free.

Every morning in our gated community, which feels like a village, there is a gathering of several dozen elders, both men and women, and a few middle-aged women. They stand in the central square, pictured above.

They turn on an audio recording of exercise instructions and work out for what seems like an hour – I haven’t kept track.

These exercises include clapping hands, rubbing hands, rubbing hands on face, rubbing hands on knees, slapping all parts of the leg, slapping other parts of the body, and many more activities.

My wonderful wife always jokes as we run past them on our morning jog that I could join them, since I’m so interested in learning Chinese medicine and t’ai chi.

This morning I did. As soon as I started imitating what the others were doing, an elderly lady came closer so that I could better see what to do. She made sure I was doing everything right as I joined them for about twenty minutes.

Towards the end, another lady started giving advice too. The first lady told my wonderful wife that this lady used to be a Chinese medicine doctor.

I felt great afterwards and I’m happy that I’ll be able to provide a Chinese medicine experience to my mother when she comes.

A photo of the morning sky over our urban village, where the exercises go on at around 7 or 8 a.m.

German challenge

As I mentioned in my first post, one of my primary goals for this blog is to lubricate my writing skills, so that when necessary I can smoothly churn out a few pages of a grant proposal, or of a music review, or of an album booklet.

So far I have been writing in English. This is, however, only one of my native languages. My transatlantic parents decided to raise me bilingual in German and English before I was born.

Since I’m coming more and more to see the value of maintaining my foreign language skills, I will dedicate one day a week to writing in German. As I hone that skill, I have no doubt that I’ll be opening doors into new worlds of opportunity.

There’s no better time to start than now. I’m well on my way to the goal of writing one blog post of 350 to 450 words daily until next month, July 25th, posting one blog on a different site on Fridays. Starting today I’ll write Monday’s blogs in German.

How does all this relate to composing, which is at the title of the blog? I have no doubt that the more I write, the better I will write, and language skills in German and English are closely related to language skills in music.

In China unterrichten

Während unserem zwei-und-halb Monaten Aufenthalt in China, wollte ich finanziell etwas zur Familie beitragen, etwas neues erfahren, und zur Gemeinschaft beitragen, also schlug meine wunderbare Ehefrau vor, ich unterrichte Englisch, denn es gäbe viele Kinder in China dessen Eltern wollen, dass sie Englisch lernen, und viele wohlhabende Eltern die Einzelunterrichte mit einheimischen Amerikanern für ihre Kinder suchen.

Nach weniger als eine Woche in China rief schon eine unserer Tanten an und sagte sie hätte uns Studenten gefunden: vier sechs- und sieben-jährige Kinder. Zwei davon waren unsere Cousins, und Zwillinge, und die anderen wahren ihre Freunde und Nachbarn.

Gleich am selben Abend kamen die Zwillinge und ihre Mutter um uns zu treffen. Am folgenden Abend kamen schon alle Studenten – es waren nun fünf Kinder – und lernten eine Stunde lang Deutsch.

Fortsetzung folgt…

What I would have wanted to know before coming to China for the first time (Part 6)

…continued from Part 5.

Before coming to China I had a phone call with a travel nurse at Kaiser Permanente. One warning she gave me was to stay away from livestock and pets.

She said that livestock carry diseases, and if a pet bites me I might get rabies and die soon after.

I thought to myself, “Is it typical for Chinese to come in contact with livestock? Is it part of going to the farmer’s market?” Why is she telling me this?

I also wondered if any of our family had pets.

After coming here I soon learned that people seem to have just as little contact with livestock here as they do in the American cities I’ve lived in.

I have heard roosters crowing in the morning on my early walks, when the city hasn’t gotten loud enough to drown them out yet.

I even hear a rooster’s crow coming from the direction of the balcony of a nearby high-rise. I haven’t, however, seen any roosters – I haven’t needed to try to avoid them or any other livestock.

Dogs roam more freely here than in the US and in Europe. Owners let them walk unleashed, and there seem to be more stray dogs too.

My wonderful wife sometimes walks in a different direction when she sees a dog.

I haven’t had any problems with unleashed dogs though. They seem to be trained more thoroughly than the American dogs I know. They don’t run up to strangers to sniff them and receive a petting.

It turns out that none of my family has pets either. My wonderful wife and her parents Bapa and Mama keep a towel by the laundry machine on their ground floor balcony for a couple cats to sleep on.

They never feed or pet the cats, however, but just enjoy seeing them on the balcony now and then, and Mama washes the towel regularly.

To me this is another lesson to not worry too much about traveling and just watch how the locals live. The travel nurse needs to make general recommendations based on a broad range of evidence.