I can't believe I still haven't made up my mind. I spent the last 48 hours thinking it through, weighing the pros and cons, trying to pinpoint and isolate what I really want. Several times I thought I had reached a decision only talk to somebody with a different opinion, who would make me doubt again.
I believe there is no right or wrong decision. Am I a fool that I don't want to give up my ordinary office-job life in Britain for the exciting new existence of an English teacher in Beijing? I know that many people do it and enjoy it - enjoy it so much that they continue doing it for years. But can I really be an English teacher - a teacher? I know that I enjoy speaking English and I know (with as little arrogance as possible) that my English is pretty much flawless - better than that of many a local here. Still, there is a difference between knowing something and communicating this knowledge to somebody else. Moreover, I know my motivation has nothing to do with wanting to teach but because this is the only realistic chance to spend some time in China and mix with the locals. I guess, it's the same for many others, as well.
What else keeps me from going?
I tell myself it's not about my career. Many people have had a year abroad on charity or teaching or just travelling and have returned to resume a perfectly healthy career.
The most daunting thing, however, is the step into the unknown. What will await me at the university, in the classroom? Will I enjoy it? Will I hate it? Will get along and make friends with students and colleagues? Will I be alone? The only certainty is that once I accept the offer and start the term there is no way out but forward. Even six month can be an eternity if you're not enjoying yourself.
Am I a coward for thinking like this? Am I a fool for even giving this matter so much deliberation? Do other people who do this sort of thing think so much before they decide? Did they know better what they were in for before they left home?
Staying here would mean playing it safe. No excitement in exchange for no risk involved. I know what I have here. It's a bit like gambling: If you don't do it you keep your money - guaranteed. On the other hand, if you want to win you must first bet. "No risk, no fun", some even say. I guess, I was never a gambler. Then again, the prize was never so attractive.
Welcome to this outlet for one of many facets of myself. This may include anything from views on current events, general ramblings and rant to short stories by yours truly.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Monday, June 19, 2006
The Decision of my Life
Where to begin? I have, it seems, arrived at a turning point in my life - a point where both wisearse and worrier delight in having long conversation in my head, long after the lights-out command has been issued.
The decision I'm talking about is this:
On one side - in the reasonable corner - there's my life as it is now. A nice flat, clean, spacious, a stable job, which provides a stable income. I earn British pounds which is still expensive in this country but very good for a holiday abroad. I don't have many friends here but those I do have I treasure (yeah, guys, I'm talking about you)
On the other side there a crazy dream I've had for a while. People have called it stupid, reckless, risky, nonsensical, rubbish. The dream is of giving up my job and my life here and to go far away. Taking a gap-year is the more popular modern buzz-word for it. After my brief holiday in China this idea kept coming up again: my plan was to finish this year at my job and then go away somewhere better and exciting - if only for a while. Now fate has its way with these things and served me an opportunity on a silver platter. A friend's friend's mother works for a university in Beijing which is currently urgently looking for foreign teachers to teach their students oral and written English and Western culture. First the facts (or so I believe): The university is a reasonably renowned university that trains becoming police officers or provides further education to higher graded officers. I would be teaching English to undergraduate or postgraduate students. This will be in the form of 12 to 16 hours of classroom teaching per week. The syllabus will be dictated largely by the university but I was encouraged to bring my own material. A previous teacher told me that their material can be quite boring. At the end of the term I would also need to mark and examine students. I would be compensated for my efforts with a one-bedroom flat (= bedsit) on campus. On top of that I would receive a monthly salary of 4500RMB - an amount that people I know seem to have varying opinions on. Some say it is not enough and I might well spend more than I earn, others say it is more than enough and I will save half of it. For Western standards it is definitely nothing and even in China I imagine it will not pay for an extravagant life-style. Then again it seems to be in line with what graduates earn in their first job. Doesn't sound so bad, all this. Why then the conflict?
Here's what I believe I found out about myself in the countless conversations I have had this week.
Since I want to end my stay in Britain soon, anyway, why not do it now and go for an adventure? Maybe it is the uncertainty of the adventure that makes me hesitate. I am certainly not sure what to expect, never having done any kind of teaching before. Not knowing whether I will like it and having to enter a minimum of 6 months contract dampens the enthusiasm. Having to leave a life behind that I spent such a long time building up and starting from scratch is daunting, at best. And, of course, there are the constant warnings of the pessimists in my ear that say if I go now and leave my job and my industry for more than half a year I will struggle find employment again. It is something I refuse to acknowledge - I'm not too old for this shit! - but after hearing it so many times it does leave a mark (as if I didn't already know). Furthermore, I finally seem to be making friends with some of the guys at work (after so long) and around work. At the same time it seems that my boss has enough faith in me to give me the ownership of a small component, which I will design and write from scratch. Worst of all maybe it confuses my plans again: I had it all worked out up to the end of the year at least. I still wanted to visit my (now) ex-girlfriend in Singapore and see the place and maybe make a short trip to Malaysia as well. That would be impossible. At the same time there is a nagging voice in my head that tells me that an opportunity like this does not come along often and that I will regret it if I let it slip away. Especially, since this has been a dream or at least a thought for quite a while already. Also, as my mum's husband aptly put it, if you want to do something crazy like this you have to do it while you're young (I'm not too old for this shit!). Also, I wanted to leave Britain, anyway, why not do it now. A few months more or less will not make a difference. I would even pick up some essential communication, organisation and presentation skills on a job like that, along with the responsibility for a group of students. These two seem compelling enough - why the uncertainty? Well, I'm undecided by nature - lazy evaluation avoids resolving arguments, and thus commitment, until the last minute. I'm probably also daunted by the new task and chance. It might be an exciting new challenge, rewarding like few others - or a six-month nightmare of epic proportions. Sometimes, I know that the things that keep me here and the those that compel me to go are all just people. The people I met in Beijing and that I've missed since then. The people I know and love in Britain who I don't want to disappoint or abandon. I know that people are the wrong motivation since people - friends - can easily drop out of the equation: new job, new girl/boyfriend, new interests - all the things that can make friends turn away. If they were the only thing that kept me or motivated me where would I be if they leave or become unavailable? The things to look for among my motivations are things like a genuine interest in teaching, a passion for Chinese culture and language, and the real wish to try something new. I listen inside myself and hear only turmoil - all the different desires shouting in a great cacophony. Does that mean I'm not so interested in the position? Maybe I'm afraid of disappointing myself here... Maybe I feel that I ought to want it.
My time draws to a close - tomorrow or at the latest the day after will be decision time. For many all this deliberation may sound silly. Nike - Just Do It. Something tells me I'll end up tossing a coin and hoping for a result - then at least I'll know what I want deep in my heart of hearts.
The decision I'm talking about is this:
On one side - in the reasonable corner - there's my life as it is now. A nice flat, clean, spacious, a stable job, which provides a stable income. I earn British pounds which is still expensive in this country but very good for a holiday abroad. I don't have many friends here but those I do have I treasure (yeah, guys, I'm talking about you)
On the other side there a crazy dream I've had for a while. People have called it stupid, reckless, risky, nonsensical, rubbish. The dream is of giving up my job and my life here and to go far away. Taking a gap-year is the more popular modern buzz-word for it. After my brief holiday in China this idea kept coming up again: my plan was to finish this year at my job and then go away somewhere better and exciting - if only for a while. Now fate has its way with these things and served me an opportunity on a silver platter. A friend's friend's mother works for a university in Beijing which is currently urgently looking for foreign teachers to teach their students oral and written English and Western culture. First the facts (or so I believe): The university is a reasonably renowned university that trains becoming police officers or provides further education to higher graded officers. I would be teaching English to undergraduate or postgraduate students. This will be in the form of 12 to 16 hours of classroom teaching per week. The syllabus will be dictated largely by the university but I was encouraged to bring my own material. A previous teacher told me that their material can be quite boring. At the end of the term I would also need to mark and examine students. I would be compensated for my efforts with a one-bedroom flat (= bedsit) on campus. On top of that I would receive a monthly salary of 4500RMB - an amount that people I know seem to have varying opinions on. Some say it is not enough and I might well spend more than I earn, others say it is more than enough and I will save half of it. For Western standards it is definitely nothing and even in China I imagine it will not pay for an extravagant life-style. Then again it seems to be in line with what graduates earn in their first job. Doesn't sound so bad, all this. Why then the conflict?
Here's what I believe I found out about myself in the countless conversations I have had this week.
Since I want to end my stay in Britain soon, anyway, why not do it now and go for an adventure? Maybe it is the uncertainty of the adventure that makes me hesitate. I am certainly not sure what to expect, never having done any kind of teaching before. Not knowing whether I will like it and having to enter a minimum of 6 months contract dampens the enthusiasm. Having to leave a life behind that I spent such a long time building up and starting from scratch is daunting, at best. And, of course, there are the constant warnings of the pessimists in my ear that say if I go now and leave my job and my industry for more than half a year I will struggle find employment again. It is something I refuse to acknowledge - I'm not too old for this shit! - but after hearing it so many times it does leave a mark (as if I didn't already know). Furthermore, I finally seem to be making friends with some of the guys at work (after so long) and around work. At the same time it seems that my boss has enough faith in me to give me the ownership of a small component, which I will design and write from scratch. Worst of all maybe it confuses my plans again: I had it all worked out up to the end of the year at least. I still wanted to visit my (now) ex-girlfriend in Singapore and see the place and maybe make a short trip to Malaysia as well. That would be impossible. At the same time there is a nagging voice in my head that tells me that an opportunity like this does not come along often and that I will regret it if I let it slip away. Especially, since this has been a dream or at least a thought for quite a while already. Also, as my mum's husband aptly put it, if you want to do something crazy like this you have to do it while you're young (I'm not too old for this shit!). Also, I wanted to leave Britain, anyway, why not do it now. A few months more or less will not make a difference. I would even pick up some essential communication, organisation and presentation skills on a job like that, along with the responsibility for a group of students. These two seem compelling enough - why the uncertainty? Well, I'm undecided by nature - lazy evaluation avoids resolving arguments, and thus commitment, until the last minute. I'm probably also daunted by the new task and chance. It might be an exciting new challenge, rewarding like few others - or a six-month nightmare of epic proportions. Sometimes, I know that the things that keep me here and the those that compel me to go are all just people. The people I met in Beijing and that I've missed since then. The people I know and love in Britain who I don't want to disappoint or abandon. I know that people are the wrong motivation since people - friends - can easily drop out of the equation: new job, new girl/boyfriend, new interests - all the things that can make friends turn away. If they were the only thing that kept me or motivated me where would I be if they leave or become unavailable? The things to look for among my motivations are things like a genuine interest in teaching, a passion for Chinese culture and language, and the real wish to try something new. I listen inside myself and hear only turmoil - all the different desires shouting in a great cacophony. Does that mean I'm not so interested in the position? Maybe I'm afraid of disappointing myself here... Maybe I feel that I ought to want it.
My time draws to a close - tomorrow or at the latest the day after will be decision time. For many all this deliberation may sound silly. Nike - Just Do It. Something tells me I'll end up tossing a coin and hoping for a result - then at least I'll know what I want deep in my heart of hearts.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Where has my heart gone ...?
... trapped in the eyes of a stranger? How is it possible? How is it possible to be in a relationship with a wonderful girl for years and still not be sure of the future with her? To know, to damn-well know, how good she is to me and how much she has done for me - and still does. To find her the sexiest thing on earth when she so much as takes off her sweater. To be able to talk to her about anything and everything without having to fear judgement or ridicule. To be respected, loved, adored by her, unconditionally. To be forgiven almost any transgression, any offence. To be the only one she admits into her heart.
Still my heart is unsteady, fickle, easily changed. It wanders away at every possible chance. As Shakespeare puts it: it hunts after new fancies. At the blink of an eye feelings change. They don't fade. They re-focus on a different person.
Here's my quest for answers. Is it because she's not "the one"? Is it for the excitement of someone new? Is it just because of the male excuse that I'm too young for commitment? (too young?! at 26?!) Is it because she's been the only girl I've been with before discovering that others find me attractive too (against all odds)? Have we just been too close too quickly? Is it because I'm thinking with a part of my anatomy other than my brain (and not the stomach either)?
I know I enjoy flirting - even when she is around. Still, her presence reminds me where I belong and prevents me from going to far (this generally does not happen even when she's not around - I'm simply too shy). When she is not around - especially when she hasn't been for a long time - things are different. Maybe feelings had already begun to fade a long time ago without her noticing and maybe even without me knowing. Maybe I only loved her back for what she was doing for me not out of my own initiative. Strangely enough, no matter how she probes and questions me, I cannot think of anything that I really dislike about her. I cannot remember ever not having a good time with her. There was the occasional quarrel - some of them her fault, some of them mine. Maybe more of them mine. At some point, however, I realised that even though I was perfectly content with her company I had begun to enjoy other people's company more. Maybe this coincided with my move to a different city where I could only see her once a week. After a long time that I had been happy not having any friends beside her I began feeling the urge to spend time with my new friends - and not her. What was more that a number of those new friends were female. I discovered that other girls also like me when I had believed that she would be the only one. Thus, spurred on by my new-found confidence, my heart began to wander - wonder. Maybe, in a cocky and selfish way, it was the realisation that she was not as unique as I had thought. Maybe it was none of the above but due to the distance and my new friends she became less and less important. 6 out of 7 days on average she could not be there for me and other friends filled her place in many aspects. And even though our relationship seemed even more passionate during the few days that we had maybe that was the beginning of the end - a very slow and creeping end but an end none the less. There are many maybes in this and I don't expect to ever know the answer for sure. It matters little now, anyway.
I feel guilty and ashamed that I do this to her and her family. I know that they, being traditional minded people, were already counting on me as the son-in-law. This is looking exceedingly unlikely now. I am also sad that with her I will loose her siblings and family many of who I have grown to like. Loosing her altogether - even as a friend - leaves me empty inside and seeing all our dreams crumble into dust weighs even heavier on my heart. Imagining that somebody else will at some point take my place in her heart and soul now only stirs a quiet resignation where jealousy should have been. I have no right to feel like this. I am to blame.
I also fail to live up to my own standards. Before I met her I had sworn to myself that when I had a girlfriend I would treat her like my queen, be faithful and loyal and make her life an easier and happier one in whichever way I could. I was going to be different from the guys that you hear or read about, who cheat on their girlfriends, treat them like toys and don't pay attention to what they want or need. To my horror I have now come to realise that I'm not so different from them after all. Maybe I'm just a man and maybe that's the statement that answers all the questions above. But is it an excuse?
No.
Why am I writing this here? It will not make anybody like me more - much rather less. If and when those that know me ask me "why?" I know I will not dare to tell the truth - how things really are. This is my confession. I want to confess - not before God since I'm not religious or catholic enough for that. Instead of receiving absolution from Him I put myself at the mercy of those who read this to judge me, and, in His stead, spell doom or maybe grant me absolution.
Still my heart is unsteady, fickle, easily changed. It wanders away at every possible chance. As Shakespeare puts it: it hunts after new fancies. At the blink of an eye feelings change. They don't fade. They re-focus on a different person.
Here's my quest for answers. Is it because she's not "the one"? Is it for the excitement of someone new? Is it just because of the male excuse that I'm too young for commitment? (too young?! at 26?!) Is it because she's been the only girl I've been with before discovering that others find me attractive too (against all odds)? Have we just been too close too quickly? Is it because I'm thinking with a part of my anatomy other than my brain (and not the stomach either)?
I know I enjoy flirting - even when she is around. Still, her presence reminds me where I belong and prevents me from going to far (this generally does not happen even when she's not around - I'm simply too shy). When she is not around - especially when she hasn't been for a long time - things are different. Maybe feelings had already begun to fade a long time ago without her noticing and maybe even without me knowing. Maybe I only loved her back for what she was doing for me not out of my own initiative. Strangely enough, no matter how she probes and questions me, I cannot think of anything that I really dislike about her. I cannot remember ever not having a good time with her. There was the occasional quarrel - some of them her fault, some of them mine. Maybe more of them mine. At some point, however, I realised that even though I was perfectly content with her company I had begun to enjoy other people's company more. Maybe this coincided with my move to a different city where I could only see her once a week. After a long time that I had been happy not having any friends beside her I began feeling the urge to spend time with my new friends - and not her. What was more that a number of those new friends were female. I discovered that other girls also like me when I had believed that she would be the only one. Thus, spurred on by my new-found confidence, my heart began to wander - wonder. Maybe, in a cocky and selfish way, it was the realisation that she was not as unique as I had thought. Maybe it was none of the above but due to the distance and my new friends she became less and less important. 6 out of 7 days on average she could not be there for me and other friends filled her place in many aspects. And even though our relationship seemed even more passionate during the few days that we had maybe that was the beginning of the end - a very slow and creeping end but an end none the less. There are many maybes in this and I don't expect to ever know the answer for sure. It matters little now, anyway.
I feel guilty and ashamed that I do this to her and her family. I know that they, being traditional minded people, were already counting on me as the son-in-law. This is looking exceedingly unlikely now. I am also sad that with her I will loose her siblings and family many of who I have grown to like. Loosing her altogether - even as a friend - leaves me empty inside and seeing all our dreams crumble into dust weighs even heavier on my heart. Imagining that somebody else will at some point take my place in her heart and soul now only stirs a quiet resignation where jealousy should have been. I have no right to feel like this. I am to blame.
I also fail to live up to my own standards. Before I met her I had sworn to myself that when I had a girlfriend I would treat her like my queen, be faithful and loyal and make her life an easier and happier one in whichever way I could. I was going to be different from the guys that you hear or read about, who cheat on their girlfriends, treat them like toys and don't pay attention to what they want or need. To my horror I have now come to realise that I'm not so different from them after all. Maybe I'm just a man and maybe that's the statement that answers all the questions above. But is it an excuse?
No.
Why am I writing this here? It will not make anybody like me more - much rather less. If and when those that know me ask me "why?" I know I will not dare to tell the truth - how things really are. This is my confession. I want to confess - not before God since I'm not religious or catholic enough for that. Instead of receiving absolution from Him I put myself at the mercy of those who read this to judge me, and, in His stead, spell doom or maybe grant me absolution.
Ein Freund, ein guter Freund...
This one's a short one - just a note, a thought even (does happen despite the pain).
Today, just now, I came to realise the difference between friends and colleagues. You may guess it's that friends matter. True. But more still friends are remembered.
I can probably still name most people I called friends during my MSc, my three years doing a BSc, at secondary school and even primary school even though I haven't seen some of them for many years (decades for some - god, I'm getting old). I might not recognise some of them after 10 years but I remember them and who they were. On the other hand, I just met a colleague from a different department that I worked quite closely with for a year. I even got along quite well with him. I had not really spoken with him for a few months. Of course, I recognised his face but I could not remember his name. After only a few months!
Maybe this is something most people know anyway - I certainly did know that colleagues are not equivalent to friends. Still, this was an interesting demonstration of this fact. Maybe it will serve to make me think twice before cancelling on friends because of some after-work event.
Today, just now, I came to realise the difference between friends and colleagues. You may guess it's that friends matter. True. But more still friends are remembered.
I can probably still name most people I called friends during my MSc, my three years doing a BSc, at secondary school and even primary school even though I haven't seen some of them for many years (decades for some - god, I'm getting old). I might not recognise some of them after 10 years but I remember them and who they were. On the other hand, I just met a colleague from a different department that I worked quite closely with for a year. I even got along quite well with him. I had not really spoken with him for a few months. Of course, I recognised his face but I could not remember his name. After only a few months!
Maybe this is something most people know anyway - I certainly did know that colleagues are not equivalent to friends. Still, this was an interesting demonstration of this fact. Maybe it will serve to make me think twice before cancelling on friends because of some after-work event.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
TV madness 3: Investigate this!
Guess what: another month, another letter. I'm actually beginning to look forward to them. When I find a new one in the mail, it's almost like Christmas as a child. You get something wrapped up, you wonder what's inside, it's exciting to unwrap, it entertains you for awhile, then you wait to get the next one.
So, after waiting - lurking - for two months the trolls of TV lincencing have stirred again. They have not forgotten me, no, their henchmen, the Enforcement Officer Brigade, are still scheduled to descend on me shortly. How I wish they would stop calling me "shortly".
As usual there's a number puzzle hidden in the letter (a bit like in The DaVinci Code). According to this, this year, they have already caught 78,224 hapless victims. Fans of numeric puzzles can now calculate from the other numbers given how many more people will go into their trap during the remainder of the year. They must have been very active in the first quarter but get a bit lax after that. Furthermore, all of these people were caught in Chatham. This suggests a grave misunderstanding: I live in Woking. Why threaten the poor people of Chatham any further? Moreover, even if Chatham has 78,224 inhabitants they're a bloody dishonest lot. Shame on them. Letting themselves get caught red-handed like that, making it so easy. They've ruined the entire statistic for this year!
I would imagine that by now I must be ranking high on the to-hit list of TV lincencing godfathers. Strangely, this letter is a lot less offensive and harsh than the previous ones. That left me feeling confused. Have I weakened their resolve? Is it possible that they might be giving up? Otherwise, why are they suddenly using the word "please"? They even offer me their help! ... Or is it all a cunning trap? "Even at this stage we want to help you stop this investigation." Aha! Having found me guilty, they extend a merciful hand to save my soul. We don't want to punish you - we want to help you. Inquisition, what a show!
Lastly, I'm being warned that the interro- ahem, inquiry will be conducted "firmly and fairly". Again a statement that leaves me bewildered - that would be the first time anyone from that company treats me fairly. I wouldn't know how to react to that. Does that mean they won't break down my door and drag me out by the hair? Do the tin men have hearts? Surely, that must be another trick to get me to open the door.
I do hope that they will not help me but rather themselves and stop this madness. The entertainment factor is wearing off. Once I get to the stage where I don't know what to write about them anymore I might actually get annoyed.
So, after waiting - lurking - for two months the trolls of TV lincencing have stirred again. They have not forgotten me, no, their henchmen, the Enforcement Officer Brigade, are still scheduled to descend on me shortly. How I wish they would stop calling me "shortly".
As usual there's a number puzzle hidden in the letter (a bit like in The DaVinci Code). According to this, this year, they have already caught 78,224 hapless victims. Fans of numeric puzzles can now calculate from the other numbers given how many more people will go into their trap during the remainder of the year. They must have been very active in the first quarter but get a bit lax after that. Furthermore, all of these people were caught in Chatham. This suggests a grave misunderstanding: I live in Woking. Why threaten the poor people of Chatham any further? Moreover, even if Chatham has 78,224 inhabitants they're a bloody dishonest lot. Shame on them. Letting themselves get caught red-handed like that, making it so easy. They've ruined the entire statistic for this year!
I would imagine that by now I must be ranking high on the to-hit list of TV lincencing godfathers. Strangely, this letter is a lot less offensive and harsh than the previous ones. That left me feeling confused. Have I weakened their resolve? Is it possible that they might be giving up? Otherwise, why are they suddenly using the word "please"? They even offer me their help! ... Or is it all a cunning trap? "Even at this stage we want to help you stop this investigation." Aha! Having found me guilty, they extend a merciful hand to save my soul. We don't want to punish you - we want to help you. Inquisition, what a show!
Lastly, I'm being warned that the interro- ahem, inquiry will be conducted "firmly and fairly". Again a statement that leaves me bewildered - that would be the first time anyone from that company treats me fairly. I wouldn't know how to react to that. Does that mean they won't break down my door and drag me out by the hair? Do the tin men have hearts? Surely, that must be another trick to get me to open the door.
I do hope that they will not help me but rather themselves and stop this madness. The entertainment factor is wearing off. Once I get to the stage where I don't know what to write about them anymore I might actually get annoyed.
Impressions from the Middle Kingdom
(Due to popular - ahem - demand here now the English version)
How unsual it is to speak German or English again, to see so many Westerners, to eat Pasta or Pizza, to sit on the toilet. China is still in my system even though I'm thousands of kilometers and seven timezones away. The wonders of modern technology: just now I was in Beijing, now back to Europe, Munich, London. I see familiar features in peoples faces, I hear familiar languages, I can read the menu again. And somehow I wish it was not so.
All the remains are the memories, the floods of impressions, endless photographs and some of Beijing's dust on my shoes. I don't want to wash it off. I don't want to miss the noise and comotion of this vibrant city. Still I know that nothing can stop the fading of the countless impressions.
The cars with their crazy drivers, the swarms of cyclists, many even crazier than the car drivers. The countless eateries, stalls and restaurants that give off almost as many different smells. The colourful markets. The people, the way the talk, discuss, bargain, advertise, dance in the park or practice calligraphy or taiji. The girls with their elegantly curved, faithfully deep brown eyes, silky skin and jet-black hair. The kindness, generosity and curiosity with which people meet a simple stranger like me. The language so mind-boggling, different, difficult, melodic and fascinating at the same time. All of it so much that you can't help but want to learn it. Even if it is just so that you know what you just ordered.
There's so much more that already begins to fade. The torrent is boundless.
If I lost something on my trip to China it is my heart - almost in every respect.
How can I call a street lively if it doesn't cause the same kind of noise as a market in Nanjing? Never again will food be spicy if it does not have the same infernal effect as the dishes from the Sichuan province. Never again can I call a city big if it takes less than an hour to get from one side to the other (using a train!). And never again will I call anything utterly mad (for lack of a better word) if it does not surpass the "godknowshowmany channel spectral Dolby Surround fountain" of Nanjing!
Memories may fade and intermingle. Old impressions will be replaced by new ones. But how could I ever forget China! I will return. I must.
How unsual it is to speak German or English again, to see so many Westerners, to eat Pasta or Pizza, to sit on the toilet. China is still in my system even though I'm thousands of kilometers and seven timezones away. The wonders of modern technology: just now I was in Beijing, now back to Europe, Munich, London. I see familiar features in peoples faces, I hear familiar languages, I can read the menu again. And somehow I wish it was not so.
All the remains are the memories, the floods of impressions, endless photographs and some of Beijing's dust on my shoes. I don't want to wash it off. I don't want to miss the noise and comotion of this vibrant city. Still I know that nothing can stop the fading of the countless impressions.
The cars with their crazy drivers, the swarms of cyclists, many even crazier than the car drivers. The countless eateries, stalls and restaurants that give off almost as many different smells. The colourful markets. The people, the way the talk, discuss, bargain, advertise, dance in the park or practice calligraphy or taiji. The girls with their elegantly curved, faithfully deep brown eyes, silky skin and jet-black hair. The kindness, generosity and curiosity with which people meet a simple stranger like me. The language so mind-boggling, different, difficult, melodic and fascinating at the same time. All of it so much that you can't help but want to learn it. Even if it is just so that you know what you just ordered.
There's so much more that already begins to fade. The torrent is boundless.
If I lost something on my trip to China it is my heart - almost in every respect.
How can I call a street lively if it doesn't cause the same kind of noise as a market in Nanjing? Never again will food be spicy if it does not have the same infernal effect as the dishes from the Sichuan province. Never again can I call a city big if it takes less than an hour to get from one side to the other (using a train!). And never again will I call anything utterly mad (for lack of a better word) if it does not surpass the "godknowshowmany channel spectral Dolby Surround fountain" of Nanjing!
Memories may fade and intermingle. Old impressions will be replaced by new ones. But how could I ever forget China! I will return. I must.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Eindrücke aus dem Reich der Mitte
Wie ungewohnt es ist, wieder deutsch oder englisch zu sprechen, wieder so viele Westler zu sehen, wieder Pasta zu essen, wieder auf dem Klo zu sitzen. China steckt einem immer noch im Blut obwohl man tausende von Kilometern entfernt ist. Die Wunder der modernen Technik: eben noch in Peking - jetzt schon wieder in Europa, München, London. Ich sehe wieder vertraute Gesichtszüge, höre wieder vertraute Sprachen und kann die Speisekarte wieder lesen. Und irgendwie wünschte ich, es wäre nicht so.
Alles was jetzt bleibt sind all die Erinnerungen, Fluten von Eindrücken, die endlosen Fotos und ein Rest von Pekings Staub an meinen Schuhen. Ich möchte ihn nicht abwaschen. Ich möchte den Lärm und den Trubel der Stadt nicht vergessen, nicht missen. Trotzdem weiss ich, dass nicht das Verwaschen der unzähligen Eindrücke verhindern kann.
Die Autos mit ihren verrückten Fahrern, die Scharen von Radfahrern, viele noch verrückter als die Autofahrer. Die unzähligen Lokale, Buden und Stände von denen ebensoviele Gerüche ausgehen. Die Menschen, wie reden, diskutieren, feilschen, Waren anpreisen oder im Park tanzen, Kaligraphie oder Taiji üben. Die Mädchen mit ihren elegant geschwungenen, treu-braunen Augen und seidiger Haut und nachtschwarzem Haar. Die Freundlichkeit und Neugier, die man einem einfachen Fremden entgegenbringt. Die Sprache so irrwitzig, anders, schwierig, melodisch und faszinierend zugleich. Alles davon so sehr, dass man nicht umhin kann, sie lernen zu wollen. Allein schon damit man im Restaurant weiss, was man gerade bestellt hat. So viel mehr, das jetzt schon zu verblassen beginnt. Die Flut nimmt kein Ende.
Wenn ich etwas in China verloren habe, dann ist es mein Herz. Fast in jeder Hinsicht.
Wie kann ich eine Strasse lebhaft nennen, wenn sie nicht mindestens den gleichen Lärm verursacht wie eine Marktstrasse in Nanjing? Nie wieder ist Essen scharf wenn es nicht dieselbe Wirkung hat, wie die Gerichte aus der Sichuan Provinz. Nie wieder kann ich eine Stadt gross nennen wenn es weniger als eine Stunde von einer Seite zur anderen dauert. Und nie wieder werde ich etwas völlig durchgeknallt nennen wenn es nicht den 12-wasweissich Kanal Dolby Surround Springbrunnen von Nanjing in den Schatten stellt.
Wie könnte ich China vergessen! Ich werde wiederkommen. Ich muss einfach.
Alles was jetzt bleibt sind all die Erinnerungen, Fluten von Eindrücken, die endlosen Fotos und ein Rest von Pekings Staub an meinen Schuhen. Ich möchte ihn nicht abwaschen. Ich möchte den Lärm und den Trubel der Stadt nicht vergessen, nicht missen. Trotzdem weiss ich, dass nicht das Verwaschen der unzähligen Eindrücke verhindern kann.
Die Autos mit ihren verrückten Fahrern, die Scharen von Radfahrern, viele noch verrückter als die Autofahrer. Die unzähligen Lokale, Buden und Stände von denen ebensoviele Gerüche ausgehen. Die Menschen, wie reden, diskutieren, feilschen, Waren anpreisen oder im Park tanzen, Kaligraphie oder Taiji üben. Die Mädchen mit ihren elegant geschwungenen, treu-braunen Augen und seidiger Haut und nachtschwarzem Haar. Die Freundlichkeit und Neugier, die man einem einfachen Fremden entgegenbringt. Die Sprache so irrwitzig, anders, schwierig, melodisch und faszinierend zugleich. Alles davon so sehr, dass man nicht umhin kann, sie lernen zu wollen. Allein schon damit man im Restaurant weiss, was man gerade bestellt hat. So viel mehr, das jetzt schon zu verblassen beginnt. Die Flut nimmt kein Ende.
Wenn ich etwas in China verloren habe, dann ist es mein Herz. Fast in jeder Hinsicht.
Wie kann ich eine Strasse lebhaft nennen, wenn sie nicht mindestens den gleichen Lärm verursacht wie eine Marktstrasse in Nanjing? Nie wieder ist Essen scharf wenn es nicht dieselbe Wirkung hat, wie die Gerichte aus der Sichuan Provinz. Nie wieder kann ich eine Stadt gross nennen wenn es weniger als eine Stunde von einer Seite zur anderen dauert. Und nie wieder werde ich etwas völlig durchgeknallt nennen wenn es nicht den 12-wasweissich Kanal Dolby Surround Springbrunnen von Nanjing in den Schatten stellt.
Wie könnte ich China vergessen! Ich werde wiederkommen. Ich muss einfach.
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