Honestly, I think rumors of the Chinese government spying on foreigners is really overblown.  And I really don't like it when those missionaries get all cryptic in their emails.  I've met people who don't stop when they get face to face–they start freaking me out.  And who wouldn't get freaked out–let alone the Chinese government–when people are coming into your country, starting secretive cell groups and opening business that are only fronts for getting visas.  To be fair, such methods are very necessary in some parts of the world sometimes.  But I also think this kind of activity becomes a fetish for some who relish the sense of heroism.

Anyway, the website blok wasn't personal as it effects all wordpress blogs (and other companies like blogger.com).  To be sure, the Chinese government has very different values than we do.  One of my Chinese professors once confessed to me he believed his government really had a lot of challenges.  But he pointed out how greatly things have changed.  Indeed, I would need to spend several years in China to notice the trend, but it is definitley in the right direction. 

For the meantime, I think I'm going to need another blog.  I'll keep you posted here and on www.xanga.com/tufareast.

If you're interested in Chinese-media issues, check out www.danwei.org for all the latest news.

Purpose: Cultural and spiritual exchange.  Here’s where I’m going to pass on the insights and sounds of interesting, inspiring and international experiences.  It’s the best way to keep in touch with family, friends and netizens in America and China.  The new tufareast is a two way street, so everyone can comment.

Features: I hope to highlight future stories with video as well as pictures (See video page).  Also, articles can be found by month, category or keyword search (See sidebar).  The bloglog section of the sidebar contains useful web resources for learning more about China. 

A comment on commenting: When posting comments on the new tufareast, everyone only needs to fill-in their name and e-mail address.  However, your e-mail address will not be seen on the site.

Chinese: The Chinese characters, 走遍世界 (zuo3 bian4 shi4 jie4), mean “go around the world.”  I hope that universal commenting and video clips will make tufareast evolve into a more vivid exchange experience for Americans and Chinese.

The only thing left is a thrilling adventure article.  On March 10, I will escort a team of DBU faculty and staff to Seoul, South Korea, and Beijing and Shanghai, China.  It’s finally time to start using that Mandarin.  I’m going to bring back a fresh impression of 韩国 (han2 guo2), South Korea, and a Beijing come back story. 

See you soon! 

Becky
Becky has known me a long time: we met when I taught English in Beijing two years ago. At that time, she wanted to know more about studying abroad in the U.S., but it seems she did a better job than me and a year later she was helping me come to her university in China. She thinks we probably won’t see each other again but she’s wrong. Thanks Becky for explaining so much Chinese grammar to me.

Agustinus
Hey, he’s an Indonesian born in August, but we call him “Agus.” My year-long roommate, the guy got a free English lesson. It helps that he was already familiar with the names of every U.S. city (with an NBA basketball team, that is). A natural learner, Agus is also available. Girls, please email tufareast for details.
 

Timothy (Zhang)
My e-friend: Timothy and I met online before I arrived in Beijing. While searching for information online, I landed on his blog. When I landed in Beijing, I found his dorm was across the street. Timothy makes friends with the American international students each year, who—except for me—are pretty Asian girls. When I first arrived, this is the man who helped me find the net café, a saint. Usually brothers have the same last name- when we have our weekly Monday lunch we both talk about our faith in Jesus. He also introduced me to Sophia and Seal (from left to right).

Gulinazi
That is not a Chinese name- “Gulnaz” is from China’s western Xinjiang Automonous Region and ethnically Kazakh. She’s one of those soft-spoken cuties who had a moment of bravery, asking a strange American to have language exchange. Of course, we became great friends, eating delicious non-pork dishes in the Muslim cafeteria, chatting in Mandarin and English and dreaming about one day moving to Xinjiang- a wonderful land of mutton shish-kabob.

Shijie and Shuangshuang
No English, no problem. For ten minutes a day I enjoyed great Mandarin conversation with these young ladies, two international experts. By the end of the semester, we were quite close. They are bold and deal with Mandarin-massacaring foriegners every day. Many kudos.

Kerry
I only knew Kerry one minute before I asked him to go to a rock concert with me—I know he would like it—the guy is a walking rock star. Every time I met him he had a different wardrobe- and there I am wearing the same clothes everyday! But beyond the fashion, Kerry is a sincerely nice guy. We had a good time at the concert, playing mahjong and other fashionable entertainment pursuits.

Helen
Helen introduced herself to me standing in line at church. Her British friends told her about Jesus so she came to check things out for herself. We have had some great, worthwhile spiritual discussions and I have watched Helen’s faith develop greatly. When I first met the girl she was a Marxist, but a nice one. People like Helen have a way of asking great questions, with an objective outlook on Christian beliefs. Call it Christianity with Chinese characteristics.

Zhu Bin and the Chairman
Meet the future leaders of China. These are the masterminds of my American culture speech and Chinese rock and roll performance. Actually, “the Chairman” and Zhu Bin are student council leaders. They were so warm-hearted to me—I’ll never forget it—treating my like family. I enjoyed eating out in hutong restaurants with these friends, truly feeling like I fit-in in China for the first time. Their group of friends went out of their way more than once for me and left me with one of my best, deepest impressions of Chinese people. The future of China is in good hands!

Ning
This is the person from the university broadcasting club who never called me back. Thankfully, I ran into her one day, finding out she was Becky’s roommate. There were other similarities which produced five hour long conversations about linguistics, international exchange and God. Finally, the coffee bar kicked us out, so we started going to countryside villages, climbing mountains, launching fireworks and even her family’s house- my first Chinese home-stay! Ning is not only a China phenomena, she is one of the best friends of my life. We’ll stay in touch.

(If you had the patience to read this far, I’ll reward you with a secret: Ning is my wonderful, beautiful, brilliant and lovely nupengyou (that means “girlfriend”).  Ask me about it in person!)

Now I know I’ve only scratched the surface of China with these few friends (indeed, there are many more great people whose picture I don’t have: the EBA team, Marianna, Angela…) But I have already discovered that people can’t be categorized by country. I would tell you that Chinese people are all so wonderful, so hospitable, so nice. But I can’t group them all together, not even if it is a compliment. They are individuals: 1.3 billion lives, worlds, cares.

What’s next for tufareast? I am now at my parent’s home in Dallas. My job search is underway. Soon I’ll be gaining experience for my next trip, one more step around the world.

Thank you, everyone who shared the thoughts and images of my year in China. Thanks for being there for me, electronically. I may not be updating the tufareast site for a while, but feel free to contact me this way. As soon as the next adventure starts, you’ll be the first ones to know.

The Chinese people I’ve met are so open-minded. Someone pointed out that if they weren’t open-minded, I wouldn’t have met them. Of course this hypothesis is scientifically unverifiable, so we’ll shelve it for the moment. I just see these bookstores on the road (and literally on the road) filled with people reading Mao’s biography and Bible stories, the Quran and Who Moved My Cheese. It’s not just the material but the looks on their faces. I watch these Chinese people staring at the newspapers posted on the bulletin board. If you have your own, your neighbor on the subway might just lean over your shoulder and have a peak.

I’ve found out that Chinese people are great listeners. Whether they believe what you’re saying or not, they’re not afraid to ask straightforward questions and listen without arguing back. Chinese seem content to let you say all you want, taking their time to reach a conclusion. I guess you could say that one feature of “open-mindedness with Chinese characteristics” is that they don’t jump into things. Contrary to American’s idea of a “leap of faith,” many Chinese have expressed to me their intention of knowing more before they decide what to finally believe.

There was this thing called the Great Proletariat Cultural Revolution when no temples, churches or mosques legally operated in the country. The contemporary comeback of every creed in China has amazed social scientists and people trying to find a seat on Sunday morning. Perhaps years of isolation sparked Chinese people’s curiosity about countries, cultures and religions they knew little about. Or perhaps the mind-numbing pace of modernization has made the people’s spiritual needs acutely evident. Whatever the case, I am always amazed at the number of Chinese people who are not altogether strangers to faith. It is not uncommon to hear “I read Bible stories when I was a child,” or “my grandmother was a Christian.” I am told of tiny villages that met missionaries generations ago and are predominantly Christian to this day.

I’m not trying to assert that China is a Christian country. Rather, I’m saying how impressed I am by many Chinese people’s high regard for faith, even faith in Jesus and Christian believers. I also admire Chinese people’s open-mindedness and proactive approach to finding out about new things. It’s not a bad way to run into the truth.

5:05 AM, I’m already in the taxi racing to Tian’anmen.  It was there that Chairman Mao announced the establishment of the People’s Republic of China, 56 years ago this week.  Since then, the flag raising ceremony has been a daily occurrence.  But it takes special significance, and draws significant crowds, on National Day Holiday.  At half pass five, I stepped foot into a crowd of the most excited Chinese people I’d ever seen, before today.

There we all were, staring at an empty pole, the sky getting lighter each moment, the crowd growing bigger every minute- we were packed in the world’s largest plaza.  Parents put wide-eyed, half-awake children on their shoulders.  They were the first ones to see the horizon’s red glow.  Then the lights went out; the star of the show was about to take stage.

The Chinese National Anthem is a proud song, expressing the people’s resolve to stand up against foreign imperialism.  The first word is “Qilai,” Arise!  With chins up and cameras rolling, the fans listened to their favorite song and watched the five star performance.  My eyes were on the crowd, surprised to see an excitement on their faces uncommon in such a crowded city, or such an early hour.  By the time the flag reached the top, I already learned my first lesson: Beijing is center stage for Chinese people’s national pride.  It was now time to go home and take a nap.

I woke up at 11:45 AM, just in time to embark on the day’s next adventure: the 2005 Beijing MIDI Music Festival.  National Day Holiday and a week off class is the perfect time for young Beijingers to camp-out and listen to the best of China’s rising rock scene.  I arrived just in time to see one musician trade his guitar for an electrified erhu, a traditional Chinese violin.  The go-go girls sported the colorful garb of China’s ethnic minority groups.  In a load cry they upstaged the amplifiers with heart riveting mountain folk songs.  The crowd rewarded them with shouts and applause.  This was not a usual rock concert.

Through the afternoon, band after band showed off their unique musical flavor, from jumping punk to head banging industrial.  “Hang On The Box,” Gua Zai Hezi Shang, an all girl band, sang in Chinese and English.  “All you girls come here… All you boys come here…”  They seemed to listen, clustering before the stage, dressed to rock.  Black was the color in vogue for everything except hair.  With hands upraised in the international two fingers, one thumb sign of rock, they sang, shouted and danced.  I couldn’t believe my eyes!

5:50 PM, the sun was starting fall but my Beijing contemporaries’ enthusiasm was only growing.  All of a sudden, one would leap out from the sea of fervent fans, floating on our upraised arms.  Every moment the sky grew darker, and then the stage lights came on.  It was a scene you would expect to see at concerts in America or Europe, until another fan climbed atop the crowd and unfurled the “Five Star Red Flag.”  Shouts!  Red waving above the crowd, the young Beijingers’ words were clear: China rocks!

This day was quickly coming to a close.  In one city, I saw two crowds, two suns, two flags and learned a second lesson.  Rock and Roll is sometimes considered a banner of Western culture.  But Beijing isn’t a city that needs to import culture.  Rather than importing, young Chinese are innovating- with their own contributions enhancing an international movement.  Flag overhead, this sunset concert was an electrifying expression of Chinese people’s national pride in a way that could only happen in Beijing.  Rock on!

In Chinese, “Nothing to my Name” literally means “Don’t even have anything at all.” That’s the way I felt trying to recall the words to this song. My Chinese friends are great, encouraging me back stage (as the event organizers- they were probably more nervous about my performance than me). Just a few weeks earlier I watched these young Chinese karaoke-stars show down their English on the same stage. So they were sympathetic when I swallowed line two of the second verse. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought, in fact, I kinda liked it.

Something happened on that star-studded stage. At first I was blinded by the spotlight. But as the shadows on the audiences’ faces became clear the rock and roll spirit came over me. At first I just swayed a little. Then I walked forward, reached out my hand, pointed my finger- and there was shouts. When I clapped, they clapped. When I turned my ear, they sang. As my grandmother would say, “The devil made me do it.” I pointed a girl in the crowd, an absolute stranger, and she waved back. Oops, I did it again!

Singing “Nothing to my Name,” one might ask, “What don’t you have?” It’s true, the rock star life, the glamour, the girls- it’s seemingly irresistible. But I dare not assert that rock be so base. One could argue that the blues are to touch your heart, jazz is to put a bounce in your step, rap, to make money, country… country is purposeless. But rock, rock is to change the world. Just take this songs author, the father of Chinese rock Cui Jian, for example:

“By combining traditional Chinese instruments and melodic sensitivities with the rhythmic and harmonic cadences of Western rock, Cui Jian deserved the title “Father of Chinese Rock Music,” as he had come to be known at home. Stories about his expulsion from the Beijing Symphony Orchestra for experimenting with Western “cultural pollution”; about his ongoing cat-and-mouse games with the Beijing authorities’ continuing crackdown on unauthorized “underground” performances; and about the army general who mistakenly interpreted Cui Jian’s version of “South Muddy Bay” as a mockery of the revered military song, subsequently banning airplay of Cui Jian songs anywhere in China — all coalesced into what seemed a rock ‘n’ roll mythology worthy of any Western rock star” (Birth of a Beijing Music Scene).

Being a rock star isn’t about lights, waving to girls or wearing glimmering Tang Dynasty shirts. There are people with green Mohawks and enough piercings to be banned by the Federal Travel Authority, but if they don’t have rock, they’re just junk medal. Rock is taking a revolutionary risk, even if it’s in front of an audience. Too many things just stopped rockin’ a long time ago. But we need to squint and stare into the spotlight to make things different. “What is your point?” you ask. Simple: Take a Risk in Two Thousand Six. Oops, I rhymed again.

Dedicated to Cui Jian. Learn more about the “Birth of a Beijing Music Scene” at Frontline’s China in the Red: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/red/sonic/

The Sights

Chinese navigate their mythically long history with one syllable dynasties.  “How old is this house?” you ask.  “Qing,” could be up to 400 years old.  Such habitats are valuable cultural relics in their own right, but this is no anthropology class.  People still sleep, eat, work and live here, as if side-by-side with the ghosts, four hundred years of life being lived simultaneously.  In some ways, life here hasn’t changed much: corn is still grown on terraces and the outdoor restroom is still most popular.  In the mountains are ancient trails; on the walls, faded socialist slogans.  And as you’re examining the village’s ancient millstone, someone’s rock music comes pouring down the mountain.  This place is ancient but these people are not actors.  This is an exhibit of living culture.

The Sounds

I expected to awake hearing roosters crowing.  Instead, the town’s broadcasting system (a loud speaker not a radio station) announces: “Villagers, pay attention: the trashman is coming!”  Unlike the familiarly spacious farms of North America, villages like this were originally built as walled fortresses.  Farmers huddled together for defense against warlords and bandits, planting their crops on the perimeter.  In fact, every house is connected.  You may be sitting in your courtyard sipping green tea and someone walks in one side and out the other on their way home.  Overhearing other people’s conversations is a regular part of life, so is overhearing others’ lives.  At night, we enjoyed leaning over the balcony to hear the din of the village underneath chatting after dinner.  One enthusiastic neighbor was not ashamed to shout: “Honey, I love you! Honey, I’m going to eat you piece by piece!”

The Stars

I thought the Chinese population was more numerous than the stars of the sky but I was wrong.  Here, the night sky features a box-office busting show complete with countless stars, constellations and shooting wishes.  There we sat with our Oreo cookies and CD player watching the night… happen.  China’s metropolitan masterpieces are renowned for their light displays, but the Hong Kong harbor can’t compete with 8 P.M. to 1 A.M. in Cuandixia.  We couldn’t resist staying an extra night to watch the show again.

 The Spirit

So what’s at the heart of this village?  Where is the countryside in China’s soul?  Legend says that three brothers started the town, which is why all the villagers have the same surname, Han.  They have a sense of identity by being associated to their village, as were their parents and grandparents.  Most of the tourists are city dwelling Chinese.  With their digital cameras and wide eyes, they look just as foreign to China’s countryside as this foreigner!  Maybe it’s the centuries’ long legacy of human life in such a remote valley.  Perhaps people are most fascinated by remembering the beauty of simple life, forgotten like urban stars.  Whether the locals feel it or not, this setting is relaxing and invigorating– perfect for a population of 91.