PART 1 Journey to the West; by Heading North. Journey back to the Land of Inspiration and Imagination.

Visiting Beijing: The Pre-olympic Flame?

Ever since I returned from teaching in China in 2001, I have made a point of returning every two years to keep in touch with the numerous close friends I had established there, by means of these frequent visits. Seven years ago, my closest friend had commented that although I had already visited China probably 15 times previously; only now would I really discover and understand Chinese culture in depth. I suppose she was referring to the act of total immersion into their society on a 24/7 basis. But for me, it became far more than that. The immersion penetrates the blood in the veins: In many ways, even though I am always on the perimeter, I feel I have lost sight of all our previous differences. We have become one. So many times we have heard of certain Chinese being described as bananas based on their integration into the Western culture: Yellow on the outside but white on the inside. We who originate in the west cannot truly escape a similar transformation: Perhaps even a reverse banana? But it would be arrogant for me to assume that barriers are removed: The primary one being caused by my own negligence, namely failure to try and learn the language; be it Patonggua (hanyu Pinyin) or Cantonese.

However, after a while, each return journey by anyone strengthens the cultural dye and penetrates the blood itself. We sense no separation: We are even colour, culture, and creed blind. We become family and members of each family of our friends. We neither see nor sense any separation. And as the global community expands; the feelings expand mutually and wonderfully if we will only allow it to happen.

The itinerary I had generated had several purposes: The primary idea was to return to visit old friends and to witness even further, the incredible changes that have taken place in Asia since my first visit in 1988. And this was to be my 20th visit depending on how you count them. Equally importantly, quite a number of close friends in Canada had indicated over the last year that they would love to visit China again, hopefully taking different paths from those walked by first-time visitors. (Even second or third time visitors too.) China, like Canada, is a vast country. More than that, China’s focus changed drastically in 1976, credited primarily to the vision of that genius, Deng Xiao Ping. There is no one word or phrase to describe the scope of that evolution-revolution that he called ‘Market Economy’: It took the vision, energy, imagination, risk enterprise and patience of 25% of the world’s population to make it happen. And it did! A small corner of that transformation, I am hoping to reveal, possibly next May, on a brief visit with friends from this side of the northern hemisphere. This recent journey over five weeks, started in Beijing, then went to Jinan, Rizhao, back to Jinan, then to Shang he (Ji yang), back again to Jinan, return to Beijing, fly to Shanghai, then fly to Shenzhen, ferry to Macau, and finally ferry to Hong Kong, then return to Toronto. I will try to tell you about China today from my viewpoint. It is very personal: It involves my friends on the streets, not the pictures in the media, nor the Government in Beijing. Therefore it will include cameo descriptions of my friends: Some I met almost 20 years ago; I have watched them get older and develop their own families as they reach their late 30s and early 40s. I have been involved as they have transformed from one type of lifestyle to a totally advanced one; a lifestyle that has become global. There are few borders now.

My story began on Sunday, September 9th 2007: Let me describe it slowly by sharing my daily diary notes. (And let me hope that the description can capture the depth of many of the emotional highlights I experienced because they changed my memory of the past and vision of the future.)

It was great to be delivered to Toronto’s new Terminal 1 by Sharon and Janice. This new terminal reminded me a little of the New Hong Kong engineering miracle, ‘an airport floating on new land, reclaimed from the Ocean off Lantau Island. This first visit to the new Toronto terminal would give me a baseline for comparison, later on in my journey. Here in Mississauga, with its very long pier; extensive moving sidewalks; plus its mushroom array of gates; I was experiencing competition with HK’s facility in terms of departure. Even the Check-in was organized well with a choice of 16 check-in counters. Some were specially assigned to other functions. A check-in coordinator with Air Canada even confided that a large number of passengers for my flight had already checked in for the 2:30 pm flight to Beijing when I arrived 2-1/2 hours prior to departure. It seemed from the Fast-Food restaurants that many had elected to lunch there before boarding. This is really a good idea; the crowds are really large now with the new multi-decked giant planes; and enough struggle and stress to share around. And my departure gate was 177. How far is that?

I met Huang Wei and her team just before boarding. Let me tell you about Wei! My friendship with Wei and her husband, Lin, started about 17 years ago when we organized that first group tour to China. After that, Lin and I worked on other tours; but he was an incredible help and active support in numerous marketing ventures I undertook during the next ten years. Over the years, Wei has become a major player for the China National Film Board; talented in many ways; not the least of which is her mastery of English in all its forms. She is one of the few I know who can do comprehensive simultaneous translations of both Chinese languages into fluent English and with a perfectly delightful accent. A short while before I was to leave, I had told Wei of my pending journey. At the last minute, she had emailed to say that she could not meet me in Beijing …………. because she was coming to Toronto to attend the TIFF. I had met on her arrival here. Then three days later, as you can guess, we were booked on the same plane to Beijing. It was then that she asked me to try and change my itinerary so that I might return to Beijing a second time to attend Beijing’s annual international screening. And I did: Things worked out just fine; my trains, planes, and hotels were rebooked. But that comes later.

When we boarded at YYZ at 1:30 pm, I was impressed by the large cathedral-like departure gates. The larger plane; one of the new Boeing 777s; has two doors; so boarding passengers split in a forked ramp to facilitate loading and seating the more than 300 passengers. Later I learned that it held 305 economy and 45 business class. The Y (economy) passengers were located in three cabins and seated 3 x 3 x 3 across, with two aisles. I had a starboard side window seat behind the wings; (53A). (The business section had rather weird spiral cutouts with individual seats in each slot somewhat like an office cubicle. The seats could be folded down into single beds.) Because of the baggage quantity, the plane was 15 minutes late leaving the Gate. Taxiing for take-off took another 15 minutes. Take-off occurred at about 3: pm Toronto time; but it was already September 10th at our destination in Beijing; there would be no night on this flight; Sunshine all the way.

This was to be a non-stop flight directly to Beijing which would reduce the flight time by almost 2 hours. Scheduled for 13hrs and 10 min, the flight would be 6,575 miles. Based on my previous experience, I guessed that we would not be Pacific Ocean bound: Instead we would be flying due North near the west of Hudson’s Bay, over the Arctic Circle and quite near the Geographic North Pole, then into Asia across Siberia. On a previous trip, I found this to be exciting even though the entire journey had been above the clouds. What would this journey be like? The other thought that seems to be proven is that by flying in a straight line North, and then south, we enter the China time zone, 12 hours ahead of Toronto’s, but without changing time zones. Is that perhaps the reason why I was not affected with jet-lag?

After take-off there was low dense cloud which prevented much viewing at altitude. I was able to see the shoreline of a lake; possibly Georgian Bay. Nothing was visible going north: Eventually we were informed that we were passing over Frobisher Bay and heading directly for the North Pole. (Unfortunately, the Boeing 777s were not yet completely finished. And animated flight path maps in the seat back displays will be a thing of the future.)

There were several meals during this flight, primarily rice, but we were able to sleep on and off. (Being a diabetic (IDDM) with special meals, mine was served first.) There was always a flow of water and Chinese green tea with lots of refills. I imagine that at 35,000 feet (way above Mt. Everest,) dehydration can be a potential hazard for some. (I will be writing about on-board exercises on another flight when I approached Shenzhen.)

At one point, I was able to see hundreds of lakes and typical tundra. Even though this is not spectacular scenery, the mere immensity is awesome and very powerful and humbling. It was cloudy all of the way; but we flew in constant bright sunshine. It was hard to figure when we had reached the North Pole; but I used a basic half-time plus observation of the sun’s position as a guesstimate. The sun never reached the horizon: but it came within about two diameters before rising rapidly. Now I knew that wherever I was, it was Monday, the 10th.

Over the Arctic Ocean, from our altitude there were incredibly beautiful cloud patterns. (It always reminds me of that old classic; ‘I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now’…..It reminded me a little of wool on a sheep’s back before shearing.)

Monday, Sept 10th 2007: Quite often I could see what seemed to be an incredibly large canyon- shaped opening with shadow defining the walls. The base looked like a huge lake; but as we flew nearer to those hollows, I could see openings in the thick cloud. Then the Arctic Ocean appeared covered with enormous ice flows broken to form a crazy paving pattern. (We were too high to see any icebergs, as you would over the Atlantic; and I saw no polar bears either.) This ice flow pattern was repeated many times with a rippled cloud covering all the way to the horizon.

Much later, after a couple of hours sleep, I could see a similar Tundra pattern over Siberia. This was very exciting too. Then through infrequent cloud breaks, one could see very small towns settled into forests usually with a factory chimney spouting white smoke. Nearer the end of the flight, we crossed a very large lake. My guess was that it could have been Bakal Lake or one of the lakes in Outer Mongolia.

Later we crossed over the large number of familiar parallel ranges of mountains forming North China; across the Great Wall, and into the Capitol Airport in Beijing. It was clear and sunny and it was very close to being on time, Beijing time, at 15: 50. And we were through immigration and customs plus baggage claim within an hour. The Airport and Terminal and environs are also very impressive even while more construction continues in preparation for the 2008 games.

I said good bye to Huang Wei, and confirmed that I would return to Beijing and to see her at the end of the following week at the Film Festival. At the exit I was met by my next old friend, Li Bei Fei. Let me tell you about Bei fei.

My friendship with Bei fei started in 1992. It was her very first day as a tour guide, and I was her first customer: A tour of one person. I had gone to see the cities of Yentai and Penglai in Shandong Province. One reason for going was to try to find the old site of the Cheefoo school where the Children of Missionaries had boarded just prior to WWII. This was where eight year old Rev David Michell and his Sister had lived and schooled prior to the Japanese invasion. Their parents were living a long distance away in the west in Henan Province. David wrote a book of his unique experiences, entitled; ‘A Boy’s War’. When we found the site that day, it had been converted into a Chinese Naval Base , and entry was forbidden. But somehow, Bei fei persuaded the guard to let us in and to walk around freely and to take photos. We found several of the original buildings, not far from the Bohai Sea, and we also discovered where someone had made attempts to chisel off the Crosses that decorated the walls. I was able to take photos and provide numerous sets later to David and others who had been prisoners of the Japanese in the Weifeng Internment Camp. (Incidentally, that was the same camp where Eric Liddell was detained (The Olympic athlete depicted in the Oscar Winning Movie, ‘Chariots of Fire’.)) It was incredible what Bei fei had achieved on her first day as a guide because, as several readers who visited Yentai with me later can attest, we were stopped and arrested for trespassing.) Why should I be surprised? Five years later, when no one could get me reservations in Hong Kong for the 1997 Hand-over by Britain to China, Bei fei came through for me again in a big way. Later she went to England and gained her Master’s degree from the Surrey University. She was also baptized there. Bei fei lives in Beijing and is today, a consultant for a large tour company.

It was now late afternoon, Monday, September 10th but in a time zone 12 hours ahead of Toronto (summer time). We took a taxi along the airport highway and into the city at the Second Ring Road. This is always a memory lane for me watching the city expand and change. The first time was in 1988. There really weren’t any ring roads back then. Even the highway was a country lane with two hotels: The Flying Swallow, and a small Holiday Inn with a bowling alley. Today, they are working on the sixth concentric Ring, and planning the seventh; with an ever-growing subway system underneath it. The rings are centered on Tian an men Square and the Forbidden City.

The taxi entered the city at the third ring road and headed snail pace towards Bei fei’s home. Instead of heading straight out to supper we walked over to a nearby Spa for a massage, which cured all the aches of flying 14 hours. That was great! (Incidentally, the massage parlour, and specifically foot massages have become the more recent social event for friends and family. Instead of going out to supper, people gather at a Spa for a pre-reserved foot bathing. These can be quite luxurious places with a row, or room of padded couch chairs. The masseurs work seated at the feet. On the adjacent wall there is one or more wall mounted TV displays and the customer is given a remote control plus a cup of Chinese tea.. The foot soaking and clinical massage usually lasts for one hour. Many imagine this to be a pleasant relaxing procedure. Let me assure you that the agony can be pretty severe: In fact, because of the frequent language barrier I end up teaching them what I mean by a cry of ‘Uncle’. (This is often the stress relieving venue after work rather than having a happy hour beverage. That certainly makes a lot of sense.)

We had supper at the historic ‘Old Peijing Restaurant. (It is not a spelling error.) I had eaten far too much on the flight so we settled for shrimps and eggplant. There is construction everywhere; but it was certainly not a problem trafficwise. (So far, my insulin had worked quite well by simply missing a couple of shots.)

China 2007 Diary: Part 1 (Click on link to view Photo Album Part 1. Beijing)

http://www.kodakgallery.com/Slideshow.jsp?Uc=150c1up1.4o9vwpu5&Uy=l5xbqk&Upost_signin=Slideshow.jsp%3Fmode%3Dfromshare&Ux=0&mode=fromshare&conn_speed=1

Tuesday, Sept 11th. Where did this day go? Today has been a big surprise! I had two places and events listed to visit, but things changed. First, Bei fei wanted to take me to her Corporate headquarters to meet some of the staff; primarily her coworkers. But when we arrived, they had plans for me to discuss and critique their new Company website with them. It was in English; presumably to be the basis for a website in several languages. This was an intense session lasting several hours. I criticized or commented on every angle for tourists and customers visiting the website. (It is a good lesson to realize how unrelated any site can become when it is created by people with far too much knowledge of the subject matter.) Then I critiqued a Questionnaire to potential tourists and visitors (browsers) to their website. When it reached 1:30 pm, they stopped and treated me to a wonderful lunch. Some of the group was new to the Company: One, for example, Zhao Xiao wen (or Celia), was a recent student of English: She had studied for three years in an ESL college in Bournemouth which incidentally was the town where I was born. It was even a pleasant surprise to notice that her English reflected many of the tones and highlights of my own dialect. (It sounded much nicer when she spoke it!)

(See you after lunch in Part 2! So let’s hail a cab!)

Part 2. What's New in Beijing? Then again, what isn't! Beijing Olympics 2008 and everything else.

Photo of the MOMA Site from an area model layout.

After lunch, my Beijing adventure began; we tried to locate by taxi a brand new and different Residential Town within the City. I had happened to watch a program quite recently on the daily PBS show with interviewer, Charlie Rose, and the U.S. Architect who was the lead of a team of Architects and engineers and who together had this radical vision of a town of the future. It was not located where the TV program had suggested; and so we had to do a lot of ‘on the move’ investigation. First we ended up in the SE corner of the inner city where I had never been before. We were at the last remaining part of ancient Beijing’s city wall and its defence towers. We were also surrounded by a mass of railway lines, and even a strange canal-river network. (Never one to miss out on a discovery, Bei fei and I ventured inside the wall and climbed all the stairs. We also discovered this huge wooden structure formerly for housing the battalion of guards. Although it was being renovated, there were also the remnants of an art exhibition.) Even from that height, we could see no signs of this new town. During this time inside the wall, Bei fei had set her staff working to locate some clues of where we were hoping to head. Ah! This new life in a network of cell phones and internet was my first experience of the separation between us older folks and the younger set! Without my knowing it, and conversations in an unknown tongue, Bei fei was already in touch with the representative of the new town responsible for real estate, and Bei fei had received an invitation for us to take a tour. We grabbed another taxi and headed for some spot in the NE corner, unknown to us and equally unknown to the taxi driver. This was no small construction site. There were numerous sites with roads and no-roads piled high with everything imaginable in materials, equipment and huge vehicles. By chance we came across a huge rock in a small Square with an inscription MOMA across it. This had to be the entrance. So we got out and walked in. We found a visitors’ building but every door was locked. Finally we found a Hall with a scale model of the entire site. There we learned that MOMA stood for Museum of Modern Art. Please don’t ask! I still don’t really know the reason for that acronym: It is too complex in International Construction-Financial circles. But the brochures refer to it as The Grand Moma. The point is that this new town is located at the NE corner of the Second Ring Road. In compliance with existing planning rules, the height of buildings within that ‘square ring road’ with rounded corners is limited so that the view of the Forbidden City will never be obstructed. (So they say!) Although the Charlie Rose interview implied that the site was completed, we learned that it would be more like 2008.

It is an ultramodern arrangement comprising seven towers of 19 floors each linked near the top by a loop of glass sided bridges. This forms a horseshoe plan. These bridges, that are described as ‘Strolling in the Clouds’, provide easy access to the ‘club’ and ‘community’ facilities in any tower without necessarily going outside. One bridge contains a complete health club; another, an Olympic size swimming pool. The roof top of each of the seven towers is covered with a garden; all green! The primary Architect, an American, David Noll, created a futuristic and ecologically sound connection. I do not understand much of this theory, but the elevator shafts, and bridges apparently form air corridors to enhance efficient heating, cooling and total air conditioning. The bridges especially will provide space for changing displays of works of art; perhaps even exhibitions of sculptures. There is a two-part theatre, for live and film presentations, which, by means of complex optical reflections can project any entertainment happening inside, onto the outer walls. (I don’t even know what that means! And I’ve seen the models and video sales pitches!) Yet another shorter circular tower is a hotel for guests of residents. On one side of the row of towers, four entertainment areas have been constructed. They comprise: an Ice rink, basket ball courts, a restaurant; and an ornamental lily pond with synchronized musical dancing waters within waterfalls and fountains. These entertainment areas are built into three artificial hills constructed from the excavated soil. For example one arrangement has a sheltered but open air games room and meeting area for a seniors club. The whole area will contain a subway for access to the underground rail station; to the multilevel carport, and a bus station. It will be located on the new direct high speed line, 28 km to the International airport.

The representative, Maggie Lu, gave Bei fei and me a tour of the large project model, also a view of the city model along with the MOMA. This was followed by an excellent film (which had been shown on the PBS interview.) Then we were taken to see several sample full size replicas of the various suites. This was quite interesting because of the creative ideas that had been woven into the layouts and designs. (Such features as expanding door openings, hinges that could be disengaged in various ways, window blinds and glass for maintaining heating and cooling: All ecologically conserving fuel and other resources with solar power; water recycling: You name it. In addition, cupboards and closet spaces were also radical in concept. Then there were new kitchen features as well as newly designed utensils and china sets.) Perhaps the most interesting feature inside and out was the colour schemes.

When we left with our minds saturated with facts and costs, we were given fancy brochures, a DVD, and the feeling that I could never afford any of it. But then, who in China could?

Note: Already, I have been asked questions to compare prices with other cities in China and with Toronto. This is very difficult for me: And I will tell you why. It seems that ‘condominiums’ in China (not Hong Kong) are priced by the square metre; (not square feet). In Jinan, for example, (and probably everywhere there,) the area calculations also include portions of the corridors, stairs, and elevator shafts, plus other amenities that are not truly inside an apartment. Dimensions even stretch to the outside walls. When you buy a condo, what you get are the bare, unfinished walls, floors, and ceilings. For example in buildings with luxury condos with two floors, there is no adjoining staircase; only a temporary ladder. There are no toilets, baths, showers; no sinks in kitchens either and no plumbing; no cupboards, no clothes closets, no light fixtures; NOTHING! Every design we had seen in the ‘sample rooms’ were merely suggestions, or a means of demonstrating such features as heat saving devices and window arrangements..

Very approximately, 10.75 square feet = 1 square metre. Therefore a two bedroom Canadian apartment with approx 1500 square feet would compare with 140 square metres. Remember that the 1500 is yours! The 140 in China includes other general space. For the Grand MOMA, the price is 35,000 Yuan per square metre. That price was quoted in September when 1$CD = US95c. and 1US$ = about Y7.5. or Y35,000 = US$4666 per square metre. I think someone quoted a small unit price of about $400,000 with an estimate to equip and finish the unit using private contractors to be another $50,000. Then they have monthly maintenance fees plus various taxes. Please address all questions to: Someone else.com

After this, Bei fei and I walked along a road through a nearby park with beautiful trees and flower beds. We could see people using the exercise equipment that can be found in parks all over China now. I am sure that in the dawn hours you would be able to watch Tai Chi, and at night, senior dancing. We were pretty silent really as we walked, with only an occasional question to clarify some problem that we were mulling over, or some facts that had slipped our memories. It was quite a relief to be with nature again.

After a while, it was getting late, but still light, so we took a taxi to the 2008 Olympic site. This was the last item on my itinerary for that city. Although the authorities will not allow anyone onto the sites, and a high fence prevents viewing from the taxi or buses, our driver was pretty good. He knew of openings etc, where we could get out and peek through to take photos. We saw the new Stadium for the opening and closing ceremonies plus the field and track events. It is called the Birds’ Nest because that is what the structural steel shape looks like. The blue swimming arena is called the Bubble, because the walls are constructed of a blue material in the form of huge translucent bubbles. This is all located to the west of the former Asian Games site. Then there is a spectacular building, which I cannot really describe, that will be the home of all of the world’s TV coverage. Next to it, will he homes for the Athletes during their participation. We finished the day at a Sichuan restaurant at 10 pm.

Just for interest. Beijing will only accommodate some of the Olympic events. The sailing events will be held in the East China Sea at Qingdao in Shandong. All the equestrian events will take place at Shanting Race Track in Hong Kong’s New territories. Football, (soccer) for example, will be in arenas spread around the Country.

Wednesday, September 12th. Now time is flying: It is hard to recall events, day to day. Before I left Canada, I had contacted those I had planned to meet to arrange at convenient times. In Jinan, I had hoped to meet my good and great friend, Yong jie. But then I discovered that since she got married, she had moved to the suburbs of Beijing, and had a baby. At least I might be able to see her for a few minutes at the station before I caught the Express to Jinan. Then I was told of another serendipity. Jie was going to meet me at the Station with her Husband and the baby. Her husband was staying; Jie and her Son, were booked to travel on the Express with me to Jinan. That was fabulous.

Let me tell you a little about Yong Jie and her family: But only a little! We go back to 2000. During that teaching semester at the Lang Mao Shan Medical School in Jinan, my task was to teach English to a group of 75 Surgeons, Doctors, and Senior Nurses in three classes. (Refresh their English is a better description). There were 3,400 other younger students of High School age who were also resident in dormitories there. They were training to be either hospital nurses, or laboratory technicians. They came from Farms or farm areas. In theory, this was their opportunity to move legally to cities for a career. (You see, in China, they do not really have freedom to live and work anywhere: Cities comprise a single city, plus perhaps 100 or more small town, and invariably more than 1000 villages. This gives a city population of typically 5 to 6 million. Therefore, this is an adequate size to manage every day to day need of a roof over the family, food, and clothing. Years ago when I questioned this policy, it was explained that in a country of 1.3 billion people, if say 10 million were to move permanently at any one time, the result would be hunger and other disasters. Perhaps that oversimplifies the explanation because many millions are on the move constantly. But there are lots of folks who are, and have already beaten the system (so I am told!)

In the long evenings when they were closeted in their classrooms to study until 9 pm., I made a point of visiting classes to take away some of the boredom. We would talk and sing in English. They loved to ask questions all about Canada and my home town. They loved Elvis Presley. And so I made friends with a number of them.

There was one young technician about 16 years old, who was really amazing. She came from a farm, and yet her conversational English was incredible. Most students, when parted from English immersion, lose the ear: But not Yong jie. Her lab was located opposite one of the class rooms where I taught. And she was so good at her lab studies that her teacher allowed her to play truant and join my classes. The problem was that she was far superior to the Doctors who were at least twice as old as her. However, the farm background invariably prevents them from succeeding in a city career without other influence. But it takes a lot to keep a fighter down. There is more to this story, but each time I go to Jinan, I use her to be my translator and guide. What a gem she is! What an ambassador for China. And in some ways, what a waste of an HR.

This beautiful and hot morning, I was up early to take a taxi at 6:30am. So I had time for another very tasty oatmeal breakfast. Bags already packed, we hailed a taxi which took us to the station. The taxi had to drop us way out quite a distance because of lots of on-going construction associated with the Olympics. There were crowds there waiting to grab the taxis as they unloaded. Some official with a flag led us through the steel and gravel materials to the station entrance; but free-lance baggage handlers with their own hand dolly, soon grabbed our bags, strapped them on, and led us to the main hall: For a very reasonable fee. There were crowds at the station too with the usual ‘settlers’ asleep all around on the ground. We waited in the hall, but did not have to wait long until Yong jie arrived with her little boy, Xu ran, and her Husband, Yang. It was really great to see them again. The boy was a real boy, searching everywhere. Jie looked really great: A true Mama and a very confident one as well. Nothing phases her! She is totally organized to the last detail with bay’s supplies, toys and amusements etc, for the train ride..

Even though we were at the older Railway station, this was the starting point for the first ultra-modern train with overhead electrical power. We said good bye to Bei fei: I would see her again when I came back at the end of the week. Then Jie and Xu ran and I headed out on to the platform. It was quite a crowd with baggage and babies pushing through towards the exit. The train was there waiting. It was futuristic in appearance with a streamlined driver’s location front and rear. We were given only a few minutes to find our carriage; Deluxe second class; and to get seated, and we were off on a beautiful, silent, smooth ride; and well air conditioned. Outside was very humid with fairly constant pollution fog. It was 8:11 am. The overhead wires and power arms were not noticeable. The journey was through countryside; pretty, but not memorable except for the feeling that I was going back to my other home in Jinan for a few days.

I want to interrupt the story to share a part of the culture. This is important because we must understand it in order to advance our understanding, and to rethink some negative opinions in our own culture. Let me say it clearly: Any thing or any topic that pertains to us naturally, especially in terms of our bodies and bodily functions, are totally ‘open’ and acceptable in that society. Nothing it seems, is tabu nor embarrassing. So why should it be? Oh, if only that were true in the west. Where did we go wrong? Everywhere, babies tend to be a continual problem; with loud crying, screaming, laughter, and wetting (freely and often). In this matter, the diaper is really not used. They rarely wear them towards their first year. And as they run around in the aisle of the train, they relieve themselves. So what! Well your hand baggage might be close by. A quick word of warning to a staff member brings forth a mop and vessel, and all is gone. There are no negative comments at all. Young Mothers, proud and happy, move around sharing stories and even swapping babies for a few moments. And breast feeding them happens so skillfully and inconspicuously in some very crowded situations, just stooped against a wall.

The engine was shaped like the high speed French and German versions. Each carriage carried a digital speedometer which displayed the speed at regular short intervals plus some Chinese characters. The maximum speed was 206 km/hour which I noticed near Shandong.
Just look at the performance: There are four of these journeys each way each day. They are called the D express. #D35 pulled out silently at 08:11 am. There would be only one stop at Dezhou for only 3 minutes when we crossed into Shandong province. No hanging around for goodbyes with that timetable. The arrival time in Jinan was scheduled for 11:34 am. This maximum speed was reached at several places on the journey and probably where the long, straight rail sections occurred. The rails were continuous, so there was no old fashioned wheel clicking rhythm. We covered the 495 km in 3 hours 24 min, including the stop; for an average speed of 145.6 km/hr. That is incredible! (Especially for a developing country!) I must try and find out more about this performance. I was thrilled to know that I would be returning on this D express train within a week.

(See you at the Station in Jinan in Part 3! So let’s grab our luggage.)

Part 3. In Jinan, The place where I am truly accepted as Family.

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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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

Yong Jia and Wenyan

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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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!)

Part 4. Jinan: The People, the Places, and the Perceptions that changed my life starting way back 20 years ago.

Yong Jia and Wenyan

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:

http://www.kodakgallery.com/Slideshow.jsp?Uc=150c1up1.1ni8g7v1&Uy=-f5ohq0&Upost_signin=Slideshow.jsp%3Fmode%3Dfromshare&Ux=0&mode=fromshare&conn_speed=1

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.

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!)