Part 11
A Santa week
But before the New Year, there is the other great celebration. Christmas. Amongst
people for whom this is but such a Western tradition; these same people organize
parties for the "laowai"- the foreigners. There are only two foreigners
here in this school. Me and another from Scotland.
A
Santa week. Rushing through parties. Government banquets. Memories too, of starving
at these banquets. It's a quest for me to find food that I can have at these banQuests!
A vegetarian. Not the easiest choice to make in China. Eating green leaves. And
I think it's only appropriate that I belong to the Year of the Sheep. Having to
drink the noxious Chinese rice wine. Deadly "baiju." So much a part
of the culture here. Accompanies every formal occasion in China. Served in little
glasses. It's a tradition to toast to everyone in sight. An expression of friendship
and good will. Which goes beyond the barriers of language. The rice wine burns
the throat and the senses. Burns everything except the feeling that this is China.
And Christmas and New Year. And I am on a high. Not on rice wine. But simply on
this wonderful dance of life.
A life which leads next to the beach. The
sea. There is something about the sea that mesmerizes. A fascination that makes
you forget the biting cold, and allow the feel of sand and sea to sink into your
toes, into each and every pore. The beach is deserted, waiting for summer. For
the people to flock back. To build their castles. To play a while. To rest a while.
And so the sea waits
too. Grey and gloomy. Gently waving time. In an endless rhythm. An endless cycle.
Simply awe-inspiring.
- SM, 2004, Lianyugang
-
additional infos about the trip and the author
can be found here
and
the next parts of this journey
can be found here
