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A Drifter Looks at 30.

I always wanted to be a soldier since I was a little kid.  God had different plans for me.

Papah holding me 30 years ago

When I was very young, I felt my God-given passion for firearms meant that I should be a warfighter. Thankfully, there are other occupations that lead to world travel & firearms expertise. I will mention those jobs later on, but suffice it to say, I've had a good time doing things for the Lord overseas.

At three days old, I was diagnosed with a heart problem called Aortic Valve Stenosis. A corrective surgery fixed the problem until 1993, when I underwent a Ross Procedure, followed by another operation in 2006. My parents told me "This is God's way of keeping you out of harm." Which makes very good sense to a rambunctious boy who would have gotten injured in a contact sport, or gone to war (likely getting shot up or blown up like so many my age).

Having combat struck from my list of options, I chose to earn a Political Science degree from Alabama (Roll Tide Roll), and then teach English in China instead of attending law school. That decision has worked out phenomenally well. Sharing Jesus with folks overseas, while being paid to do it (provided furnished apartment, etc.) is a wonderful thing. My wife and I actually met at an orientation for prospective China teachers. Our friendship was forged in the heat of Wuhan, and on trips to an orphanage out in the countryside. I don't think I'd have found such a beautiful bride were I stationed in Baghdad or Kandahar.

Aside from working in Wuhan for a three year stretch, I also did some short trips to Fiji while in college. There in Suva, we studied with locals and had worship every evening. That whet my appetite for future travels. My conservative count of twelve countries (more if Scotland/Wales counted separately) pales in comparison to my wife's travels. In twenty-seven years she claims 40 countries visited. Many of hers were volunteer related, just like my trips to Fiji. Antarctica is the only continent that neither of us has been... yet.

We feel that travel provides a wealth of memories that no big house, fancy car, or flashy jewelry could ever provide. I hope my journeys inspire others to go to new places. Think of a place you've always thought was just out of reach; I'm sure with proper planning a trip can become feasible. One of the blessings of Christianity is that places all over the world are ready to host you if you're willing to donate a week or two of your time helping improve their community. Another thrifty way to travel is to visit your family... they will appreciate your smiling face much more in person than on Skype.

A final goal for my family is to visit each of the 50 states. Wife and I have already been to Hawaii and Alaska, and spent a week driving across America on I-40 from Alabama to California. Since most of what we haven't seen is along the East Coast, we feel this is well within reach. It would be a whole lot of fun to go in an RV with kids. I chose the handle "Bama Drifter" because I like to drift from one journey to the next. Where will you go?

A few of the places I visited instead of the Middle East...

Fiji
China
Vietnam
Cambodia
Laos
India
Great Britain (incl. Scotland & Wales)
Canada
Mexico
Namibia
Malawi
South Africa
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Great Wall -Beijing
Terracotta Warriors -Xi'an
Angkor Wat -Siem Reap
London
Edinburgh
Shanghai
New York
Boston
Kauai
Malibu
Hong Kong
Alaska
Wyoming
Montana
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Sequoia
Joshua Tree
Grand Canyon
Yosemite
Denali

Yellowstone

Grand Tetons 

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Hunting in Alabama
Fishing in Alaska
50 mile canoe/fishing via Bissett, Manitoba
65 mile backpack/hiking at Philmont
Snow skiing in Colorado
Whale watching in Maui
African Safari (kudu, gemsbok, blue wildebeest, springbok, impala, jackal)

Places yet unseen...
Italy
Germany
Switzerland

Chinese drivers are MORE PATIENT than You.

The powerful forces of Wuhan

Feb 2010

When you live in a city with 11 million Chinese people for two and a half years you appreciate what things you can control, and learn to patiently yield to the dominating monoliths that never make exceptions. Of these behemoths that cotton to neither rank, privilege, U.S. Passport, chauffer driven Audis, nor any other badge of prestige, traffic must be the biggest.  It is surreal to contemplate being an old Chinese man. I often sit back and wonder what it’s like to have lived through two world wars and the Depression as many of our grandparents’ older siblings did (Papah b. 1920 was the youngest of 10).  Having a paid for house and car, color TV, and some cash stuffed under the mattress or tidily growing at modest rates in CD’s was all they aspired to.  All that, plus having some healthy kids and grandkids, too.

But contrast Uncle Bubba, Papah’s older brother who was a Naval Academy grad and Alabama Supreme Court Justice with Zhou Laoshi, my Chinese tutor who is now sixty-five.  Zhou, a retired college professor who tutors foreigners to supplement his pension, was five when the war ended in China and Mao Zedong proclaimed a new China from the Gate of Heavenly Peace in Tiananmen Square.  Mao would provide little peace to the people other than a protection from the Japanese and other foreign invaders. 

Zhou’s apartment is similar to mine, which is similar to most of today’s Chinese middle class.  Approximately five hundred square feet, fourth floor up (no elevators) in a squat grey concrete building adjacent to another eighty or a hundred buildings of identical appearance, externally it looks rather dreary.  On the inside however, one finds the digital age has crept in.  There is a thirty-inch flat screen TV, DVD player, cordless phone, mini fridge, cell phone, and computer with internet access.  The only things lacking are finished floors, a water heater, five-gallon water dispenser, and toaster oven.  Zhou never had any of those things growing up and is not American, so why waste the money on frivolity?  He does have a piano that he plays on occasion (hate to be the worker who delivers those in China- no elevator, 4^th floor!) and has a grandson who drives a car.  I sometimes wonder what Zhou does with his money because there is no conspicuous consumption… younger Chinese should emulate this thrifty example!

Traffic. That is the name of the beast, that terrible behemoth… the unyielding force of Wuhan. I was told by a senior expat teacher that as recently as the early '90s Dida, our school, was on an unpaved and heavily rutted gravel road. It is now reached by turning off of the multi-lane roundabout, Lu Xiang and proceeding down a much-improved four-lane road.  One might expect such rapid change to keep up with the ever-worsening traffic.  It hasn’t.  I was also told in my first week to always lock my bike, and even then to be prepared to buy another.  I’m still on the first bike, and am told now that the bike thieves have switched to pinching electric scooters and motorbikes.  I can only guess that the Chinese phrase for grand theft auto will soon work its way into the lexicon.  Cars aren’t really the problem; neither are the taxis nor buses. None of these factors is bad by itself, but together they form a dense cloud, literally (bad pollution) and figuratively. Don’t forget Chinese haven’t yet abandoned their use of three-wheeled pick-up trucks, bicycles and other such slow moving vehicles.  The regular Monday through Friday rush hours always produce predictably awful traffic jams, but weekends can get much, much worse.

Just this past Saturday for example, Eliz and I were trying to get back to our apartments from downtown on the main thoroughfare, Wulou Lu.  It runs into Lu Xiang roundabout before continuing on towards Eliz’s school.  Our taxi made it halfway to Lu Xiang before encountering the worst traffic I’ve ever seen in my life.  About half a mile from the roundabout, our driver decided the left lane wasn’t moving fast enough, so he and numerous others began using the next available two lanes to the left on this six-lane road.  That’s right, we were barreling down towards what should have been oncoming traffic. But in typical “only in China” fashion, there were no cars coming toward us.  A torrential flood of traffic heading into a roundabout creates chaos; chaos with two lanes of contra-flow!  I felt the mind numbing power of it all when we were creeping past a police car; he in the far left lane, us to the left of him in the ‘right lane’ of the contra-flow.  The idea of anyone having control of this situation at that moment ceased to exist.  (Fade into the Pixies: “Where is my Mind?”)

After grinding through another quarter mile or so, our driver forced us out about two hundred yards shy of Lu Xiang.  To his defense, we had been idling for about five minutes and noticing a flock of pedestrians glide past much faster.  He didn’t even charge us, it was just shift change time and he was already running late.  So we walked on past the horde of immobile buses, taxis, Audis, Hondas, and Citroens.  We actually made pretty good time by hoofing it past two bus stops and were able to catch a mini-van ‘black taxi’ on the un-congested Carrefour side of Lu Xiang.  Still, it took forty-five minutes to cover what would normally take fifteen or even ten minutes in America.  It is experiences like this that make me immune to American, British or other trifling traffic delays.  We have real traffic jams in China. Americans outside of Boston, New York City, L.A. and the like have nothing to complain about!  

However, a “government solution” (hahaha) is hopefully in sight.  Last year, work began on Wuhan’s new metro system.  There will be a metro stop right behind the Ramada hotel on Lu Xiang as well as at Chicony department store, where our taxi ride began.  The authorities moved the finish line for construction from 2010 to 2012. Whenever it does open for service it won’t be a single day too early!!!

God Bless.

Welcome to China

                                                                                                                                    

 The art of Chinese banquet, luxuriant dining: spending money to impress people.


March 2010

So, I have been in China, Wuhan specifically, for about two and a half years now and read many books about business etiquette/ cross cultural relations/ et al, ad nauseum, and so on but will now add my own observations to the flood of ink that has been spilled by Westerners covering life in the Middle Kingdom.

When invited out to eat w/ a Chinese host it is universally understood they will pay… the “Dutch treat” is a new concept here and only catching on amongst young students who don’t have an income anyway.  Fine restaurants and even middling to not so fancy eateries all have what we would in the West call private dining rooms or over here are simply referred to as rooms.  They will invariably be on the second floor and be named after some Song or Ming poem or have a ridiculously long, however lucky number like 888 or 7777, anything except 4 which is a homophone for death (also never give a clock: ‘song zhong’ sounds like ‘carry to your death’ in Mandarin).  The guest of honor (you) will always be seated at the farthest side of the table facing the door.  I like to think of it like being a gunslinger in wild west times; you would never have your back to the door for safety.  Chinese food is not served individually, one entrée per person. No, all items are shared by placing the dishes on a lazy susan that spins in the middle of the table (8-10 persons per table).

For each place setting there is a rice bowl atop a small plate with a spoon for soups or eating finely cut dishes, a tea cup (no handle) and a 4-6 oz. cup for beverages and toasting (stemware style in fancier places), and of course chopsticks on the right hand side.  This 6-piece place setting sits atop a sort of place mat that is turned forty-five degrees so that one corner points towards the middle of the table and one corner hangs over into your lap. It is standard throughout China from Wuhan to Shanghai, Xi’an to Beijing. A wonderful thing about this style of dining and it’s accoutrements is comfort.  Wait staff will come around from time to time to add another dish or clear the bones from your plate along with any other trash you might have accumulated.  If it is a fancy meal, not at your average mom & pop diner, rice will be absent from the table. You may think, “What?!?  No rice? I thought all Asian, especially Chinese meals included rice!” Ah, so you would be mistaken.

In China, as well as many Eastern cultures, the food is not just for eating and the wine is not just for drinking.  Dining out is a status symbol and the dishes in front of you, especially shark fin soup or soft shell turtle are a conspicuous display of wealth.  LOOK! I can afford the outrageously priced delicacies! That is the message your host wishes to convey.  There will be a judicious amount of vegetable dishes, fish, and other more ‘normal’ food, of course. But the idea is not eating because you’re hungry; nay, it is to show off.  For the same reason the host may ask what you want to drink: beer, red wine, or bai jiu (Chinese liquor/ white lightning).  If you respond with “Sprite” he will be most disappointed, because in China the drinking is a deep rooted part of their culture. Interrupting the meal for a volley of toasts is par for the course.

It is expected that if you are a man, you will drink at least two or three 4 oz glasses of beer at the minimum before switching over to the lightweight stuff. Women and children are exempt from using alcohol and will invariably be drinking orange juice, Sprite, Coke, or water for these toasts.  Unlike western toasts, which can drone on for more than two or three minutes each, these are more of the ‘Big Fat Greek Wedding’ variety that involve little more than “Gan bei!” (lit. dry cup) or “Cheers!”.  The toasts may go on however long it takes to empty all the bottles at the table, so taking small sips is a good idea unless you think you can drink your host under the table.

Another fine point of etiquette in China, aside from waiting to eat and drink, is always leave some food in your bowl and some liquid in your glass.  This is vital to keep it from being refilled by an overzealous host as well as to show you have had your fill.  A clean plate will indicate that one is still hungry and wants more to eat.  This would be an insult at the worst and minor problem at the least.  Unless you are having lunch in a working class, greasy spoon type of place where you see other tables eating rice, DON’T ask for it.  At an elegant (by local standards) fancy restaurant asking for rice would be like telling your host “I am still hungry and none of this suits my taste, bring out the cheap filler.” The western equivalent for rice is potatoes or corn.  You would think it strange if a guest wanted French fries or mashed potatoes at every meal, right?  They have their place in the western menu as does rice in the east- not in fancy meals.

After all the bottles are empty, the fish has been picked clean, and folks are finished with the watermelon and sweet fried glutinous rice pastries, the host will ask almost rhetorically “Are you full?” to which you will most definitely say “Yes, I am very full. Thank you!”  If an older man he may say “What else would you like?” to which you can fill in any number of witty responses like “A million dollars.” or “Roll me out of here.” or “A Mercedes Benz.” hoping that he hasn’t understood you or knows English so well he can appreciate sarcastic humor. Then all will rise from the table, pocket the leftover tissue packs and go on the next part of the itinerary such as KTV (karaoke), another museum, or the local Tang Dynasty pagoda which was likely rebuilt in 1985 to attract tourist dollars after being destroyed by Red Guards during the revolution.         

Have a harmonious time!