My old and best friend Wang Ai Ping was on the platform to meet us. Let me tell you a little about her.
What can I say that would tell you what she is like: I first met her in Beijing in November 1988, on my very first visit to China. She was my national guide. She has developed from being a tour guide to the point that she is a key team member in the Shandong Government’s Department of Tourism. She leads Executives on world tours, and as a translator and interpreter, has undertaken some really important assignments in places such as New York where she gave the speech of the Mayor, in her own tongue. But equally important, she has a great Husband and a Son of whom she is rightly proud. For me, the thrill and honour has been that, over those almost 20 years, all her friends and relatives have become my friends; and I, theirs. Yes, I am privileged too.
Fish, her Husband, was waiting outside too to meet us. He has a new Chevrolet (Shanghai built), their first car: A beauty. We drove directly to the Bi yi Seafood Restaurant for an incredible fish lunch. This is one of my favorite places. However, in the last two years it has been more or less gutted and completely renovated in a new design. The other surprise was the fact that the parking lot was full and we needed help finding a parking spot. Things have really changed. Oh! How I have missed Shandong’s seafood. I cannot explain it. It was raining a little and there was a team of men with umbrellas to escort us to the door. Talk about customer service and efficiency!
Ping’s Son, Han ying, was able to skip away from school briefly to join us. At 14, he is now very tall and a perfect gentleman. Their education system is quite different and very competitive too in a positive way, with local, Provincial, and National tests to find the champions for that year. Not only that, their work load is bigger and their hours are much longer. Surprisingly, there were no complaints: They even found it inspiring and motivating. (I should not describe it as an education system, because it is based on a true and honest desire to be educated; and a different education attitude.)
After lunch, they drove me to the Sofitel Hotel, the highest building in Jinan, with a rotating restaurant, where I was welcomed with a delightful, expensive suite of four rooms with a very low price. How can you beat that? We said good bye, and then I waited for my other friends to arrive. These were my friends, Wenyan and Gao, from Waterloo, Ontario. Jinan is Gao’s former home. I met him in Shanghai in 1989 and the close friendship has been blossoming ever since. I met his wife, Wenyan, in Bowling Green State University, in Ohio when they were taking their MBA. Wenyan comes more recently from Tian jin. She has been a very close friend for 10 years. They are both wonderful Canadian Citizens.
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http://www.kodakgallery.com/Slideshow.jsp?Upost_signin_override_collid=89268317605.204220772605
I had promised to show them parts of Jinan which were quite historical but not well known: Sort of a walled city within a city. This was the old City called ‘Middle Gate’. Afterwards we met another friend and headed off in the rush-hour and traffic jam to yet another restaurant and a fish supper. I am eating too much but fish in Shandong is very special. But will it improve my swimming? I cannot believe how many different types of seafood are available in this Province; and how many different menu variations or local flavours they can dream up. The spreads and imaginative creations are unbelievable. Some of the centerpiece designs sculpted out of a fish are unreal. But for me, I think I could survive forever with only fish.
Thursday, September 13th. This was to be a very special day for me. It involved a very long journey by slow train through a segment of the Province where I had never been before; to meet a friend whom I had not seen since the school days at Lang Mao Shan in 2001. Then I was booked to make the long return journey all in one day. The City was called Rizhao; a seaside resort on the East China seacoast. I discovered that it was to be a long journey because it was not a direct rail route.
But first, let me tell you about Quan Fang, whom I know as Susan. I might as well tell you about her friend, Ciu Meng Mei, whom I know as Sunny, at the same time. (Sunny arrives later in the diary.) They were not only class mates at the Medical school, they were also room mates in a group of seven, I believe. You had to live in the same dormitory block and share day to day life with them in order to really appreciate just how unique and special they were and how significantly they could change your life. Sunny was probably their leader: Both she and Susan could speak English very well back in 2000. They were both born program organizers to the last detail. It was my privilege to spend Christmas time with their class. Therefore we had several parties. This ‘group of seven’ would come to my dormitory at all odd hours just to talk or to see the Christmas tree I had decorated in the window. I had created song sheets of English language favorites, such as Elvis Presley’s ‘Love me tender’, and ‘This land is your land’ as examples. But to dance a waltz with Ms Li, to Edelweiss sung by the kids, is different, you must admit.
After Graduation from the School, they all separated and went their various ways. Susan went back home to be a Nurse in Wu Lian People’s Hospital near Rizhao. But since then, she has married a Neurosurgeon, a coworker, and they are just starting a family. We have remained in contact ever since by email. But I had not seen Susan for more than six years.
I was up at 4:45 am that morning for the journey that would prove to be a very strange day. Ping and Fish picked me up to take me to the train station. Then Ping came aboard to locate my carriage and Soft Seat in Second Class. The train pulled out on time at 8:19 am to begin a 5-1/2 hour journey with eight stops. The distance by road between Jinan and Rizhao is really not that far: but the train, although fast, takes a long circuitous route. This route was something like a figure 6 shape. It headed south and passed through famous cities such as Tai shan, the sacred mountain, and Qu fu, the home and burial place of Kong fu zi (Confucius) about 550 BC. Then the train proceeded eastward and finally went NE. across the Yi he with its two multispan bridges and small island, into Rizhao; arriving at 13:36. (For much of the journey, I had had one of my infrequent hernia attacks. The pain was a killer; but they don’t last long. I knew I needed some hot tea to drink and soon.)
It was such a thrill to see Susan and her husband who were waiting on the station to meet me. What a great moment: We had some hot tea and a quick lunch of fish, and then headed for the beach to sightsee. (By now I was fine and in very good medical hands.) There were lots of visitors there, and there was certainly a lot to see. But the water was so blue, and so was the sky: Brilliant sunshine; clear salt laden air, and no smog at all. (For a person who was born at the seaside and grew up there, one cannot imagine the exhilaration of that air.) It was a long bay with a really beautiful modern promenade and ending in a giant pier. Everything was modern and there were incredible ornamental gardens, statues, and artistic designs in the promenade. This was obviously a favored spot for tourists; swimmers, boaters, and sun worshippers. What a beautiful place! As an example, one very ornate ornamental lake was surrounded by about a dozen larger than human size statues of sea horses.
It could only be a brief stay here with Susan, because the only train back to Jinan would leave within about 90 minutes. Susan had not been able to book a second class soft bed, because they were all booked already. (Or that is what a very officious railway woman insisted.) So I had to settle for a hard seat in the very crowded local section of the train. This was going to be a ‘first’ for me (and probably a very difficult 5 hours solo with no local language capability. Susan argued angrily for an upgrade but with no success. So we walked to the designated carriage way back. Susan and the ticket porter had a long conversation at the entrance. Apparently he was extremely mad at the staff that they could not find a soft seat for a guest foreigner. Susan came on the train to find my seat. It was packed solid with 3 + 2 seats across in an open concept, and literally shoulder to shoulder passengers. Sardines in a can come to mind. By this time the train was about to leave and sure enough, someone else was sitting in my designated seat. Susan flipped and was about to tear into him. But now diplomacy must rule. The man was already playing cards. So I stopped Susan and, not to disturb him; I just asked her to find the man’s true seat number. I did this in a fairly loud polite voice so that others nearby could hear. And I took his seat. Being the only westerner and a complete ‘English only’ speaker, the other travellers showed some compassion and they were visibly impressed. I was now scheduled to sit in the middle seat of the three seat group. But they spoke quickly to each other. Next thing, the man in the window seat moved over and gave his seat to me. This was really going to be an interesting experience. Susan had gone and was banging on the window to say goodbye. It was a sad moment but a well worthwhile visit.
And the train pulled out. It was really crowded, uncomfortable, and extremely hot. Five hours crushed in, and total language barrier, and just a bottle of water.
After a while one young man opposite, with his wife and a younger relative, I guess, was staring at me. I soon realized that he was back in memory in his high school days trying to recall his limited English. After a while He asked in a gruff voice: ‘Where you from?’ I smiled and said Dolondoa, Jianada: Pleasant smiles and surprise. He had conversed in English. I was very proud of him! At least he had tried his best. Would we try the same? A minute passed and the next question came: How old? I smiled again and replied: 76. But I also showed him the two numbers, 7 and 6, in Chinese hand signal code. Now they knew I was not a total stranger; so everything settled down. I was able to ask the young woman if she spoke English? She replied, ‘A little’. So I was able to discover where they were headed. They really are the best! But now what?
About 20 minutes later, the Porter who had been at the carriage door checking the tickets, suddenly entered and was searching the passenger faces as he walked through. He saw me, and said: You! Come! I got up and was about to get my bag from the overhead rack: He grabbed it for me and nodded in the direction he had come. About 5 carriages down, he knocked on a door to a four bed compartment (two up; two down!) It was opened to show that just an elderly Husband and wife were in there. They had found a soft sleeper for me. In similar broken English, I took out my wallet, and my ticket, and said: I pay! He smiled! He understood and came back with an official ticket machine with a calculator. He showed me the upgrade price on the calculator, and I paid him a little more. Soon the full change came including the ‘little more’. They really are the best!
I think the wife was a stockbroker: For much of the journey, she worked her way through her phone book calling people on her cell phone with lengthy conversations. After about 30 minutes, I opened my cover, laid down and went to sleep. Through the darkness of the evening, I slept soundly: It had been a wonderful exhausting day. And what a great thrill to be with Susan again. We arrived in Jinan just before midnight! It was raining hard, so I thought I might have to get a taxi. But No; Ping and Fish were waiting with their car and drove me to the Sofitel. They really are the best!
Friday, September 14th. This was the day scheduled for me to go with Yong jie to her home on the farm. It is about a 100 minute ride north from Jinan, across the Huang He (the famous Yellow River which was one of the Anvils of civilization history.) But sadly, there would be no Cui ping, her sister. Let me tell you very briefly about Cui ping. Back in 2000 at the time of the School at Lang Mao Shan, I had met Cui ping with Yong jie in the market place. She was sat on the back of Jie’s bike. And we had been introduced. Just before Christmas, I was conversing with a small group of Doctors, late one evening in my dormitory. There was a knock on the door! It was Yong jie. She wanted to come in to give me a present. Anyway, I invited her in and she joined in the conversations with the class. I asked her quite casually how her sister was. Her reply to the Doctors was in Mandarin. One Doctor looked shocked: He said to me: ‘You don’t know what Jie has just told us, do you?’ ‘Well. No!’ He broke the news that Cui Ping was blind. She couldn’t be: I met her and saw her. Well I learned that she had been blind with a disease called Nystagmus since she was a baby. In effect the nerve motor controls for the eyes did not work, so the eyes oscillated very rapidly. She was blind and she was in a school for the blind.
This family has so much courage; individually and collectively. They have never given up. They still struggle constantly merely to survive. They are the financially poor beyond belief. But they are certainly not poor in spirit or courage or energy or pride. It is incredibly humbling for us because we complain about nothing really. I can assure you that meeting them and becoming involved with them has changed my life. The story from then on is old and has been told numerous times. About 5 years ago, she was able to meet the group of eye specialists from Canada and the USA, led by Dr. Ali the leader on the Globus Corporation Lockheed 1011 plane. You can read all about this venture on their website. Her meeting in Hainan, south China, was televised and broadcast in Shandong by reporters who traveled south with her. I don’t intend to repeat it. No, they were not able to give her back her sight, but it changed her life and the lives of that family.
While at the blind school, Cui ping learned to play several musical instruments; and at the Provincial games for the disabled she came away with five athletic Gold medals. She can out-sprint me any day! There is nothing she cannot do. And she has all the confidence in the world to do it! At the school later on, she learned to be a masseuse. I see them all every two years at the farm. There are two other younger daughters whom I have not met for about 5 years. Two years ago, a miracle happened. Cui ping’s sight returned just before I last visited. They had kept it a secret until I arrived and she saw me for the first time. That is another story (probably quite a shock for her!)
In the past four years, Cui ping has worked away from home; a long way away, as a masseuse: First in Dongying, the oil fields; then in Zhenzhou, in Henan Province, and now way down in Hangzhou, south of Shanghai. She is now 22 years old, completely independent and self supporting. She works about 10 hours per day. Massages cost Y30 for one hour. (About $4 Cd) She receives Y8.5 per massage. And she is earning about Y1,000 per month. This is just great to her way of thinking! She is independent. How could we compete living off $Cd 125 per month and believing we are wealthy?
That morning I was supposed to catch the bus to the farm; but I had learned that Cui ping was not able to travel all the way from Hangzhou to meet me. This was sad. No Cui ping. I was supposed to meet Jia at about 8:10 am in the hotel lobby to catch the 8:30 bus. (Incidentally, the 100 minute ride costs Y6 or 75c.) That morning the traffic jam was everywhere. Finally, Jia ran into the lobby at 8:25 and said that she had a taxi waiting outside. I said what is the point: We have missed the bus?. ‘No, it is also in the traffic jam. We are going to take the taxi to follow the bus. The Driver raced through back streets but there was no clear way to get to the bus station. So we dumped the taxi and raced across the main road to where the bus would have to pass. Then we could step out and stop it. We did not have to wait more than 3 minutes, when we could see the bus pushing its way though the traffic. When I stepped into the road, I could see that the Driver was smiling and he pulled over. I got on the bus and cried with joy: There was Cui ping standing there in the aisle by the door. The passengers all knew about this surprise and clapped as I gave Cui ping a big hug. She had traveled all night by train from Hangzhou just to surprise me. And what an incredible surprise; I love them so much! Yet another serendipity. But how did they pull this off? Yes, even the bus driver has a cell phone and uses text messaging. Wow! I am so far behind the technology.
We were on the bus to the farm: A precious journey. It went a different way from the usual. We crossed the huge Huang he Bridge because the old pontoon bridge road is being made into a highway. But on this new route it passes by the farm lane with only a five minute walk. Jie’s Mum and the baby were at the junction to meet us and to walk back together.
The farm has had a very bad season with a failed corn crop. But I am sure they will pull through: They always have. For the next two hours, Jie worked virtually alone to prepare, as always, a great fabulous farm lunch with all my favorite dishes. And she prepares it on the steps; on an open fire, and using water out of the well. Most of the food and goodies she had carried from Jinan; squid, shell fish, you name it! (If you can!) Meanwhile one very pleasant time, which I have repeated on each visit, is when I walked with Cui ping and this time with Jie’s baby, to the next village to bring their Grandma back for this special lunch. It is a peaceful time and so full of understood happiness. And at Grandma’s very little dark cottage, she always has a tea pot ready and waiting for a cup of tea or ten. We are not able to talk to each other as we walk; but there is that calm of deep friendship, mutual respect, and admiration.
They are such an inspiration to me. I feel so helpless when I am with them. So I wander around taking photos. When we had eaten, at about 1:30, it was time to walk back to the road to catch the bus to Jinan. (Oh! While I sat on a stool, Cui ping gave me a head and neck massage to ease a headache and shoulder ache. And for free!) Yes, it was the same bus driver on his return leg; and the bus was crowded. They really are the best! (Please realize that Jie would have now made this trip four times that day. Is that friendship or what?)
Back in Jinan, I waited for Ping to arrive and we went with the other Fishes out to yet another fish supper. (Not unlike Europe, many families have surnames which reflected an ancient trade; for example; Fish, Smith, Carpenter, Taylor, Banks, Farmer; Piper, or even where they lived: Northcott (for North cottage). Furthermore, wives do not change their surname at marriage. And any children take the father’s surname. And so, at this supper table, (Oh! I was really so full!) let me list the names in the two families for you: Yu Li bo, (wife); Yu Dai shui; (Husband); Yu Jing yang, (Son): Wang Ai ping (Wife); Yu Gin ShuiYu, Husband; and Han ying, (Son). Ping is the only one who is not a fish (Yu): She cannot swim well either.
(See you in the morning in Part 4! So let’s go and search at the internet café!)
Ping and Yu Jing
Saturday, September 15th. This was the day that I would be able to spend with Ping and Li Bo. After playing unsuccessfully on the computer in the Business Office to find emails, I went to the lobby to wait for Ping. (Incidentally, most Hotels in China’s major cities charge Y1 per minute for email. That equals about 12c Canadian.)
Later, Ping arrived with the car and Li bo was driving. We headed north towards the river to a brand new ‘supermarket’. This is not the right word to describe it. These huge stores were side by side and spread for many blocks. You can imagine these stores on each side of a long straight street ; but the difference was that these two rows were not on a street; they were about 250 metres or more apart, affording each side huge ‘untamed’ parking lots. At one point, buried among these rows of stores was a shopping mall. But there were also dozens of street vendors with Chinese versions of fast food. These are usually some form of cooked vegetable on a stick or a shishkabob. I enjoy their Di gua or sweet potato and always have. I wanted to buy a winter coat to wear when I returned to Canada, but the weather was hot and so the Fall jackets were the only ones being offered. Ping made sure that I got a good price by sending me away out of sight of the staff and then bargaining with the store Manager. Ping made it even better by making the coat a gift. She is the best!
In this Part, there are three Photo Albums accessible through the following link.
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After entering the link, click on 'Browse all Albums'.
Album 2.1 Side trips around Shandong.
Album 2.2 More about Jinan.
Album 2.3 A Day with Ping and others.
We headed back into the city and because we were near a training hotel where Ping’s young niece, Yu jing, was studying, we decided to pick her up and take out of the city to a new college campus where she had enrolled for next term, but had not visited. Actually it is a brand new area; very large; comprising a group of colleges. This was my chance to view this new education concept.
We had plenty of time before Yu jing had finished her classes for the day, so Ping took us to a beautiful park which is one of the locales famous for Jinan’s fresh water springs, called Zhenzhu Chuan (Pearl Springs). Jinan is famous for its hundreds of springs, and they are contained in lakes with incredible rock formations created around them. (These rocks are unique in the area; a bright mat white finish, with various fist size holes penetrating them. They are incredibly shaped and composed with waterfalls and fountains, etc. They used to claim that they all came from Tai Hu (Lake) in Jiangsu, but if that were true, by now the lake bottom would be near the centre of the earth. These rocks are in scenic gardens everywhere throughout China. When the rocks are placed into magical patterns and surrounded by trees, (usually weeping willows,) and moving water, it becomes more than pleasing to the eye; even the atmosphere has a unique and quieting peace about it.)
(Wherever the scenery is spectacular and beautiful, you can be sure to see couples, just married, and still in their Wedding gowns and Tuxedos, posing artistically for photos. There is usually a professional director who sets up the portrait before the cameraman takes the photo. I know this for sure, because, in many places, I watch and try to steal a picture. The Bride and Groom like it, but frequently, if the director sees me, he (or she) will position themselves to block my view of the couple. Quite often a ghetto blaster is used to provide lovely, appropriate background music, both traditional and western classical, for a video.)
It was a delight to meet Yu jing; Ping’s cousin. Perhaps I had met her somewhere before; but she would have been a young teenager back then. With some patience and persistence on her part, she was able to communicate with me in English. It did not take her very long to rediscover her ‘ear’ and vocabulary. She was also very interesting and obviously grateful to Ping for taking her out. Li bo drove about 40km out of town to this new college area. Ping and Li bo elected to sit and talk to catch up on their ‘gossip’; while Jing and I set off to explore what would be her new dorm area next term. One interesting facet was to watch a hundred or more freshmen women dressed in camouflage army denims, and practicing foot drill. At the entrance to one building complex was a huge statue of Kong fu zi, their ancient architect of education more than 2500 years ago. (I mentioned in the previous Part that I had passed through his original home town and burial site at Qufu, on my train journey to Rizhou.) Naturally, Jing and I took photos of each other posing at the feet of the Master. We soon realized that the others would be wondering where we had lost ourselves, and so we headed back. On the way, we were met by a small group of women students who stopped to talk. This is not unusual: They want to communicate in English for sure: But they are genuinely friendly and interested in meeting westerners. It happens everywhere if you are prepared to converse.
(In the early days when China was more closed to foreigners than today, before the global spread, each city had one or more special locations where literally hundreds of Chinese would gather to practice their conversational skills or to stand closely by, listening to other couples converse. These places were designated as the “English Corner”. Frequently, in those days, tours would arrive so that the tourists could ‘fraternize’ and be the targets of the conversation. It was fascinating to sit on a wall somewhere with a very young person, perhaps as young as 9 or 10, extremely fluent in English; and get engrossed in conversation. Then you would spot Dad or Grandpa taking a movie of the whole sequence. In Jinan there were two spots I knew: Black Tiger Springs and Hero’s Mountain.)
The conversations with Jing that day tended to focus on the cities from where they came. (Deeper conversations can also probe for such information as their association with one of China’s Minorities. We tend to forget that there are also 55 minority nations within the mosaic of China. Most of what we know or are told, applies only to the Han majority. But it was only a couple of years ago that I discovered yet another large race called the Hakka’s who originated 2000 years ago and populated Shandong, then Fujian, and later Guangdong. For those readers in Toronto, I know of four Hakka restaurants in the GTA (greater Toronto Area) and they are all great eating places.) Having traveled over much of China, it is usually easier for me to find mutually interesting topics of conversation when focused on their original birthplace.
Then Ping and Li bo found us and joined in the conversation.
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http://www.kodakgallery.com/Slideshow.jsp?Upost_signin_override_collid=89268317605.204220772605
http://www.kodakgallery.com/Slideshow.jsp?Upost_signin_override_collid=89268317605.204220772605
I soon discovered that we were reasonably close to another favorite spot where Su Ran had taken me two years ago. This was the last and biggest of the Jinan Springs called Bai mei Chuan. There must be at least 30 springs there in groups. The largest one discharges more than 100 litres of fresh, clean, cool water per second. It was getting late, so Ping, Yu jing and I hurried through this large park with various ponds and lakes because it was Jing’s first time there. I hope I can attach a clear photo of them.
Quite recently in Jinan I had seen a large restaurant called the Shandong Publishing Restaurant. Having been on the periphery of publishing for a long time, this intrigued me. The guess was that at some time a publishing consortium had done very well and had made this into a secondary investment opportunity. As we were driving home, I saw the place again, and jokingly, I remarked ‘Why don’t we eat there?’ Quite seriously, Ping replied: ‘We are!’ ‘Well what about the rest of the families? What will they do?’ Ping replied; ‘They are already there waiting for us!’
How can we not be impressed? It started out with my casual remark about this Publishing feature. It registered in their minds. And now through the science of cell phones and unknown to me, this is what had been arranged on the fly. So now I knew precisely what was going on while I was enjoying myself at the springs! They were not gossiping at all. Does this sort of ‘arranging’ go on everywhere in the 30-something generation? When I got to Hong Kong I soon learned that all China’s world functioned that way.
Tomorrow, Ping will be leaving very early for Qingdao, so once again it will be a sad farewell until next time we can meet, probably in a year or two. However, we have emails by which we keep our lives together.
Sunday, September 16th. When I was teaching, or whatever it was that I did in Jinan, 6 years ago, I used to go to the local Church each Sunday morning. People have asked me many times about the state of the Christian Church in China, and it has always been difficult to answer in a few sentences with word pictures. Furthermore, the western press delights in anything negative in China: Most reports that I have seen tend to continue to carry that bias. I cannot really explain what goes on because it is in a language that I do not understand. Certainly it is a Protestant format. One has to discover for oneself the starting point of Christian mission in China: Those who led it dedicated (and often surrendered,) their lives to the message that they believed; and to the Spirit within them that motivated and inspired them to continue. Some of the negative aspect came from the unfortunate outcome of the Second Opium War and the resultant Nanjing treaty which forced China to open its doors to missionaries. It was this same treaty which secured the ‘Treaty’ cities that gave access to traders along China’s coast and produced the foreign settlements. These included Hong Kong, Ningbo, Shanghai, Guangzhou, even as far north as Tian jin. Later, even Shandong became a German settlement headquartered in Qingdao. (And for that reason alone, today the world has a German beer, brewed in China using water from the Lao shan, and called Tsing Tao.)
Although the words are in Mandarin, the Hymn tunes are certainly 19th century Protestant tunes with the words translated into similar Chinese meaning but altered to fit the meter. The services are longer, the congregations are vastly larger, and the Spirit is certainly evident whether you understand the language or not. And the services are far longer for one reason because most service messages or sermons last for anything from 45 minutes to 80 minutes in length.
So after Breakfast and some internet searching, I took a cab to the Church on Jing Si Lu. The Service was already underway. They can start at about 8:30 am when typically the parishioners spend time studying the Scriptures and having them interpreted. This is followed by a short practice of the hymns, especially any unfamiliar tunes. Ultimately the formal service commences. On thes particular Sunday, by 9:30 am, the church was packed. It was a hot day, and so the breeze was welcomed through doors and windows. Today, it finished around 11:30. My guess is that there were about 700 to 800 in the congregation. There is the main floor and a continuous balcony across the rear and along both sides. One corner of the balcony seems to be set aside for foreign teachers to worship. They play no part in the service: They are aided with limited translation by those who are familiar with the language. The hymnaries contain words in both languages, or they can use pinyin translations. My old friend, Pam, a PhD in geology, was there and helped me by providing a simultaneous written draft translation of the message. She too is a gem, committed and dedicated to serving the young Chinese probably for the rest of her professional life. What could China (or Shandong) do without her and many others like her? It was from the ‘fountain’ like her that the Chinese themselves gave birth to social justice in Chinese organizations such as the Amity Foundation. Only a year ago, that group advertised the printing of their 10 millionth Bible. But for me, one of the most noble of causes has been in the orphanages where senior ladies in every major city now visit these ‘unwanted’ babies and give their hours and money as Surrogate Grandmas: Incredible voluntary work.
There is one great difference between western and eastern worship. On several Sundays immediately following the worship service, there can be one or more formal weddings. You are free to stay or leave. Most times a large portion of the members stay to watch.
After the service as many as 20 American and other ESL teachers from the University, go to a special local restaurant for a delightful lunch and weekly get-together. Whenever I return to Jinan, I make a point of being there at least once and to share a meal and fellowship. They are the best! There are no strangers there!
After lunch I walked to the Xinhua bookstore, but it does not have the same quality anymore. So I took a taxi back to Sofitel. Back in my room I found a message that another old friend was sitting an examination this afternoon, and would not arrive until 4:30 pm. I had time to spare. So I slept for a while. When I awoke, I had lost my voice.
Su ran arrived in her car, driven by her husband; she brought her Daughter, Xa xie, as well. I have watched Xa Xie grow up to a wonderful young lady; but not yet quite, a ten-ager (Maybe more than a seven-ager.) She is somewhat shy at first, intelligent, and well spoken in my opinion, in both languages. Her Dad is also a very interesting entrepreneur; formerly an architect. Unfortunately he had to run on this day for some other appointment, but I was very glad I got to meet him again.
Let me tell you about Su Ran. I first met her when she was a newly hired tour guide. That was more than 16 years ago when my first tour was organized for my friends. Some of the readers today will recall Su Ran because she was so highly intelligent; so calm under stress, and a wonderful person to be with. What a gem! She also has a very sharp wit and a great sense of humour. Later on, when I arranged my final tour of 8 people, also in the early 90’s, Su ran was my guide all along the Silk Road. Since those days, ‘Ran-ran’ has accompanied me on numerous occasions to remote parts of China, even up to Lhasa in Tibet, and to new places right in the city of Jinan.
(For example, it was on my last visit in 2005 that Su Ran first showed Yong Jie and me the walled city, ‘Middle gate’. And it was during that walk that I was approached by a man who happened to be a local TV reporter, who wanted to interview me. Then a cameraman appeared. It was Su Ran who was interviewed, so I really have no idea whether she told good or bad stories about me. It was a 30 minute interview, so you can imagine that there were lots of bad things because they far outnumber the good! While they talked, Jie and I walked around, along the tree-lined canal and over those traditional short humped bridges. It must have been a very slow news day, because two hours later, we were on the Jinan nightly news. Later that night, the full half hour was repeated. I could have mentioned earlier in the previous diary that the bus from Jinan to Jie’s farm, like most long distance buses, had TV for movies. Than night when Jie was going home on the bus alone, they showed the interview movie of Jia and me again from earlier: Other passengers soon recognized that Jie, the Star, was with them on the bus. It must have been one of many of her Andy Warhol 15 minutes of fame! She still tells the story again with pride!! Other friends saw it and talked about the broadcast, but I never did see it. Probably just as well!)
I have many cherished memories of times with Ran-ran. One I must tell you. On my second visit to Guilin and the Li River with Ping and Su Ran in 1991, we stayed at the Sheraton Hotel. I discovered by accident that they served ice cream including Sundaes and even Banana Splits. This was the first time I had ever seen them anywhere in China. So I took Ping and Su ran for this treat. They had never had these dishes before. Ping was not impressed at all; But Ran went crazy with delight. So for the last 16 years, this has become our secret ceremony each time Ran and I meet. Even in 2005, together with Yong jie, we had devoured Banana splits and other variations right in the Sofitel’s Western Style Restaurant. Sadly, this feature had been discontinued, so Ran, Xa xia and I repeated the tradition with straight vanilla sundaes in the Lobby Coffee shop.
Su Ran brought me up to date with her life story. After being a guide she became a darned good school teacher. Now she has been snapped up by the Provincial Government: She remains one of my really best friends anywhere. (The examination that had detained her was a Civil Service promotion event.
Rarely do we communicate during the two years between each visit, but when we meet, we pick up where we left off. I love that relationship. There is incredible mutual respect between us. She is one of the most generous people I have ever met; and she always has some very fascinating program of discovery arranged for me. She is very special.
Outside the hotel, we said good bye, took a few photos, and they drove off in a taxi. Yes, I was sad: But there would be other times, God willing. I walked from the hotel to the Quenchun Guang Chang; across to the Baotu Springs and north to the Pearl Springs again. Then I saw the new McDonald’s for one last visit. By this time, my blood/sugar was going low, and my sight was poor. So I had a filet of Fish and a lovely coffee. A couple of sacks of sugar corrected my vision. (Incidentally I had gone there one morning for breakfast. You might recall that several months ago, China and the West had yet another business blow up: That time it was over the contents of tooth paste and some problem related to antifreeze. This problem also impacted their domestic market. And so McDonald’s and Crest had got together in an advertising thrust: With the breakfast I received a free tube of toothpaste.)
I still had some time left before packing and bed; and so I decided to indulge in a foot massage. I have mentioned earlier in Part 1 that the custom of families and friends having a foot massage together has sometimes superseded that of uniting for a meal in a restaurant. Don’t misunderstand me: I would not be surprised if dining out in this newly found economy exceeds the custom of eating in. There are large restaurants everywhere seating 100 or even more clients. In Hong Kong, I have seen three independent restaurants on three floors in an office building; all packed. But the foot massage has also replaced the Happy Hour (after work) beverage for stress relief: And it works. The Sofitel has a great arrangement for massage, harmonized with a fitness centre, and beauty parlour, according to the floor layout.
So I headed up the elevator for treatment and requested a foot massage: Then I was ushered into a room with large screen TV; sat in a special chaise lounge with foot stool, and served a cup of green tea.. However when I was prepared, the masseur suggested something that I could not understand. It ended up with a Chiropodist trimming my toe nails. And that too was absolutely first class. This was followed by the foot massage. The feet and lower legs are soaked in very hot liquid; with many content options. Then the feet are massaged. This is not a particularly pleasant idea. Those old metatarsals in the arch of each foot don’t wish to be separated from whatever hinges them. Same with the toes that contain those Ying and Yang trigger points (or acupuncture points) leading to just about every organ and gland in the midsection. But that is what the ancient Chinese treatment (torture?) is all about! Several times I have been able to teach Chinese-speaking masseurs and masseuses a new meaning for ‘Uncle’ as in ‘You’re hurting me and I surrender.’ (But being serious for a moment, they really are great. Furthermore the professional ones know all about the feet and their vulnerability to diabetes. They inspect them thoroughly for cuts, sores and skin graze. It might be in the imagination, but when they have finished, one can feel the blood circulating through every capillary, and vein. It really is like ‘Walking on a Cloud’. Well, now my feet, Achilles tendons, and calves were in great shape for my next mountain climb. But what about from my knees to the top of my head? So I opted for a full massage. Two and a half hours altogether cost a mere Y157 or slightly less than Cd$20. There is no way, I would complain but beware: It can be addictive.
(Tomorrow I leave Jinan to return to Beijing for the Annual Screening. See you in the morning in Part 4!)
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