Wednesday, April 14, 2010

I'M GETTING THE KEYS TO THE TREEHOUSE

Xiao Bao attempts to disguise himself as a very small cougar when faced with his electronic likeness (no one is fooled).

I'm so busy these days that I don't make it down to the Treehouse much, once a week at most. Which is too bad because that cozy little cafe is still probably my favorite place in the city. Some expats prefer shiny Beijing, the cool, modern spaces of clubs and upscale restaurants, but I like my little hutong paradise, full of random objects, familiar faces, and one tyrannical meowhead. Allow me to explain by describing a better-than-average visit:

I went to the Treehouse last night on my way back from the office, intending to chat with Wu Jie about having my mother (who is arriving next week) bring an ipad from the states for her husband and to do a little fieldnote-writing and document translation. When I arrived, Wu Jie and Sophie had just ordered some Muslim food from a nearby restaurant. Our friend Er Ge was there too, recently returned from his travels in India and Mauritius and the recipient of a lot of teasing from the rest of us about how he had become enlightened after several days of smoking bhang in Dharamsala. Wu Jie asked me to put on some music I had introduced her to the weekend before (Florence + the Machine) and we sat down to our meal.

A few customers drifted in: a Chinese couple and later a pack of guys who are in a local band. They ordered their own food, bowls of steaming noodles delivered by a lady who lives across the street, sipped some coffee, and were treated to a slideshow of India by Er Ge.

I returned to my computer after eating and as soon as my lap was clearly available Xiao Bao jumped into it and promptly went to sleep. But I didn't get much work done. Another regular, Xiangzi, who runs the first charity shop in Beijing in a nearby hutong, stopped by for some birthday beers and watermelon and I treated everyone to my new favorite animal videos on youtube, foxes on a trampoline and standing Zorro cat. Animal videos are excellent cultural universals.

I tried to leave around 10 but Xiangzi wouldn't let me. He pleaded birthday privileges and insisted on buying me a beer to thank me for promising to pick up his kids from daycare on Friday when he and his wife will be at work. Their kids are adorable. I often visit his shop on the weekends when his whole family is hanging out on the stoop, drinking tea, chatting with the neighboring shopkeepers, and hearing the local gossip. Xiangzi's wife Terry is a red-haired Canadian and we joke that we make it look like the shops' main product is foreign women.

So I stayed for two hours more, talking with Xiangzi, Sophie, Wu Jie, and Er Ge in a mixture of Chinese and English about contemporary Chinese society, socialism in Canada and China, living a meaningful, principled life, and how much we all love Beijing and the incredible people one can meet here. And then we all made out.

Just kidding.

But I am entirely serious when I say that I have rarely been so challenged, fulfilled, and happy in all my life. I feel enormously lucky to be here and to be surrounded by such a great variety of wonderful people. And I really am getting the keys to the Treehouse. Sophie and Wu Jie have agreed to let me hold my focus groups there on weekend afternoons before they open and they have taken to calling me "san laoban" (boss #3) and saying I can let myself in any time. I own this town.

P.S. See some of Wu Jie's stunning pictures of Xiao Bao, Sophie, Beijing, Qinghai (site of the recent earthquake) and more on her blog. RECOMMENDED!

Thursday, April 1, 2010

TAPE PAPER SCISSORS

It was on my first trip to China that I first starting making postcards, Carrie and I having found ourselves in untouristed parts with nary a ready-made 明信片. On that first go I bought a glue stick and some packing tape, harvested all our magazines for interesting scraps, and crossed my fingers that they wouldn't get chucked by the postman (I must concede that the idea of making one's own postcards while on the road was not originally mine but belonged to the lovely Vanessa).

I'm not sure when this little hobby turned into the full-blown obsession it is today. Some days after I've found a new source of weird quotes or usable images but find myself too busy to play with them I end up daydreaming about my little craft kit when I'm on the subway or out to dinner with friends. I am a dork. But I must say honestly that sitting down and listening to an album or two while cutting and arranging and constructing is one of the most reliably pleasurable things I know of as well as being a textbook example of Flow (I just finished the book and trust me, the wiki has all you need to know), Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi's term for an optimal mental state in which you are fully immersed in an activity. I had an awful case of the mean reds the other day, depression and anger and anxiety all wrapped up together, but after a few hours with old Nancy Drew books rescued from the trash pile at the American School in Beijing (I only cut up the ones that were already falling apart), Osho quotes, and some colored pencils, I felt a hundred times better. The results, along with a sampling of all the other postcards I've made and sent this year are below.

I only started taking these photographs for my own records a few months ago and I'm sorry if the quality isn't great. If you haven't ever received a postcard from me (or if you have moved recently, MARK) and would like to I probably don't have your address -- make haste and send it to me through a secure channel. And please, if it sounds like any fun at all to you, start making your own!


Soft Rock Sutras


Penguins


Chinese Opera


Animals, assorted


The Dao of Nancy Drew