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Farewell Zhuhai

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Manage episode 152279413 series 1055321
Indhold leveret af KGSM Student Radio. Alt podcastindhold inklusive episoder, grafik og podcastbeskrivelser uploades og leveres direkte af KGSM Student Radio eller deres podcastplatformspartner. Hvis du mener, at nogen bruger dit ophavsretligt beskyttede værk uden din tilladelse, kan du følge processen beskrevet her https://da.player.fm/legal.

Welcome to Aural Fixation the podcast for this final episode from Zhuhai. The story is a bit shorter this week than you are used to, but it summarizes what has been one of the semester’s slowest and most relaxing weeks. The new year is here, and in many ways a new year can symbolize a fresh start, a clean slate, for different parts of our lives. For me it will be returning to the United States with a fresh perspective on the world, and a better understanding of humanity and myself. Tune in next week for the first, and only podcast of this series, produced outside of China. It will likely cover my experience with reverse culture shock and readjustment. Enjoy, and thank you for listening.

It seems only appropriate that the tropical storm of rain and humidity that welcomed me to China would be bookended by a spell of cold, biting wind and rain on my way out. The rain this time is not nearly as torrential nor brutal as that which welcomed me but remains, nevertheless, rain and brings with it the same mess of mud and similar dangers as usual; my shoes are not caked in mud but the Student Hostel Cultural Village’s unpaved driveway-turned-mudslide still cases me to leave shoe prints all over the freshly mopped dormitory floors. This is my last weekend in China and to celebrate mine and Cynthia’s imminent departures from Zhuhai we gathered our friends together for some spicy and magnificently delicious Sichuanese food at Lao Sichuan, a restaurant in Zhuhai’s Xiangzhou District.

Apart from Sichuanese food, Lao Sichuan specializes in the high art of Kung-Fu-style Ba Bao Cha whereby each person is given a small cup with eight different ingredients inside and a lid—used both to keep your tea warm while it steeps and to prevent you from sucking down one of the herbs giving your tea its sweet flavor—into which a professional shoots water from what looks like an oversized watering can from across the wide round table; it’s difficult to put into words what exactly happens during this exquisite preparation exercise or what makes it so much fun to watch; perhaps it’s the brilliant accuracy of the artistic server’s ability to position the device’s spout inches from the tiny cup and spray a concentrated and high pressure stream of boiling water while holding the canister upside down, behind his head, and arching his back so that the whole device doesn’t hit the ceiling once he finishes pouring a perfect cup full of water and promptly snaps his wrist back to bring the instrument back to rest without soaking anyone in his audience in scalding hot water; it is, to be sure, a spectacle to behold. The food is served in the traditional “family style” wherein the group orders and consumes all of the dishes which are served en masse atop a rotating platform in the center of the table, which circular buffet allows just enough room for each person’s table setting:a small bowl and saucer, chopsticks and spoon and the aforementioned tea cup—with a little extra room for a bowl of rice, should you request one. The food is served as it becomes available and a good meal is one where everyone is surprised by the seemingly endless encore of culinary delight, and leaves feeling satisfied, stuffed even, while not having actually eaten an entire, singular, meal. It’s like thanksgiving dinner.

We were celebrating with Dee, Jack, Nicole, Ann, Nancy, Tommy and Alex. Like any or most attempts at organizing an outing in China, we invited 15, expected 20, and got nine; the only difference, logistically, was that we were only 15 minutes late instead of the customary 30 (on a good day) to 120 (on a not-as-good-day) minutes. During the bus trip on the way out the Xiangzhou we swapped various accounts of our respective New Year’s Eve adventures and reminisced about the semester rapidly nearing its end. At some point I stared out the tall windows of the bus’s rear door lost in thought, as I often am on bus trips, as I watched the Zhuhai cityscape pass by for what was likely one of the last times ever. I started remember my first encounters with people like Tommy and Nancy, appreciating their generosity and helpfulness the first few weeks while I was Growing Up, if you will—learning how to get money, food, soap, and other things—and reflecting on the parts of China I will surely find myself nostalgic or wistful for in the near future: the food, obviously; the language, which, while I did not learn much of practically, continues to intrigue me in it’s grammar and tonal structure to this day; the history and culture or, rather, the sense that in China I have felt part of such a long and vibrant narrative of dynasties, communism, and today’s quasi-capitalist neo-communism, a story beloved, owned really, by all the people I have called friends for the last three months; the imported culture, for better or worse, borrowed from the so-called western world and reinterpreted with Chinese characteristics; while simultaneously thinking about how great it will be and how ready I am to get home and be back on familiar soil once again.

It’s been interesting saying goodbye to my friends here, their first question is often related to when I will be back and when I tell them it will not be for a while many of them do not seem to understand just how long it will be before I return and assume that “not this summer” means I will never return. There is, however, a lot of reason to return. I have yet to see Yunnan Province’s beautiful stone forests and everlasting spring, the Three Gorges Dam, or the Terra Cotta Warriors to name just a few of the many attractions both historic and touristy that will one day bring me back to China. It seems unrealistic to spend three months of my adult in a place and not have this drive to return sometime when I have more money and time to explore and appreciate the scenery and aesthetic power of the country. That trip, I’m afraid, will have to wait a long time.

This has been a production of the Gustavus Department of Communication and Marketing in association with KGSM Radio and for the final time, this podcast was recorded at United International College in Zhuhai, China. My name is Greg Boone and this is Aural Fixation the Podcast from China. Thanks for listening.

  continue reading

28 episoder

Artwork
iconDel
 
Manage episode 152279413 series 1055321
Indhold leveret af KGSM Student Radio. Alt podcastindhold inklusive episoder, grafik og podcastbeskrivelser uploades og leveres direkte af KGSM Student Radio eller deres podcastplatformspartner. Hvis du mener, at nogen bruger dit ophavsretligt beskyttede værk uden din tilladelse, kan du følge processen beskrevet her https://da.player.fm/legal.

Welcome to Aural Fixation the podcast for this final episode from Zhuhai. The story is a bit shorter this week than you are used to, but it summarizes what has been one of the semester’s slowest and most relaxing weeks. The new year is here, and in many ways a new year can symbolize a fresh start, a clean slate, for different parts of our lives. For me it will be returning to the United States with a fresh perspective on the world, and a better understanding of humanity and myself. Tune in next week for the first, and only podcast of this series, produced outside of China. It will likely cover my experience with reverse culture shock and readjustment. Enjoy, and thank you for listening.

It seems only appropriate that the tropical storm of rain and humidity that welcomed me to China would be bookended by a spell of cold, biting wind and rain on my way out. The rain this time is not nearly as torrential nor brutal as that which welcomed me but remains, nevertheless, rain and brings with it the same mess of mud and similar dangers as usual; my shoes are not caked in mud but the Student Hostel Cultural Village’s unpaved driveway-turned-mudslide still cases me to leave shoe prints all over the freshly mopped dormitory floors. This is my last weekend in China and to celebrate mine and Cynthia’s imminent departures from Zhuhai we gathered our friends together for some spicy and magnificently delicious Sichuanese food at Lao Sichuan, a restaurant in Zhuhai’s Xiangzhou District.

Apart from Sichuanese food, Lao Sichuan specializes in the high art of Kung-Fu-style Ba Bao Cha whereby each person is given a small cup with eight different ingredients inside and a lid—used both to keep your tea warm while it steeps and to prevent you from sucking down one of the herbs giving your tea its sweet flavor—into which a professional shoots water from what looks like an oversized watering can from across the wide round table; it’s difficult to put into words what exactly happens during this exquisite preparation exercise or what makes it so much fun to watch; perhaps it’s the brilliant accuracy of the artistic server’s ability to position the device’s spout inches from the tiny cup and spray a concentrated and high pressure stream of boiling water while holding the canister upside down, behind his head, and arching his back so that the whole device doesn’t hit the ceiling once he finishes pouring a perfect cup full of water and promptly snaps his wrist back to bring the instrument back to rest without soaking anyone in his audience in scalding hot water; it is, to be sure, a spectacle to behold. The food is served in the traditional “family style” wherein the group orders and consumes all of the dishes which are served en masse atop a rotating platform in the center of the table, which circular buffet allows just enough room for each person’s table setting:a small bowl and saucer, chopsticks and spoon and the aforementioned tea cup—with a little extra room for a bowl of rice, should you request one. The food is served as it becomes available and a good meal is one where everyone is surprised by the seemingly endless encore of culinary delight, and leaves feeling satisfied, stuffed even, while not having actually eaten an entire, singular, meal. It’s like thanksgiving dinner.

We were celebrating with Dee, Jack, Nicole, Ann, Nancy, Tommy and Alex. Like any or most attempts at organizing an outing in China, we invited 15, expected 20, and got nine; the only difference, logistically, was that we were only 15 minutes late instead of the customary 30 (on a good day) to 120 (on a not-as-good-day) minutes. During the bus trip on the way out the Xiangzhou we swapped various accounts of our respective New Year’s Eve adventures and reminisced about the semester rapidly nearing its end. At some point I stared out the tall windows of the bus’s rear door lost in thought, as I often am on bus trips, as I watched the Zhuhai cityscape pass by for what was likely one of the last times ever. I started remember my first encounters with people like Tommy and Nancy, appreciating their generosity and helpfulness the first few weeks while I was Growing Up, if you will—learning how to get money, food, soap, and other things—and reflecting on the parts of China I will surely find myself nostalgic or wistful for in the near future: the food, obviously; the language, which, while I did not learn much of practically, continues to intrigue me in it’s grammar and tonal structure to this day; the history and culture or, rather, the sense that in China I have felt part of such a long and vibrant narrative of dynasties, communism, and today’s quasi-capitalist neo-communism, a story beloved, owned really, by all the people I have called friends for the last three months; the imported culture, for better or worse, borrowed from the so-called western world and reinterpreted with Chinese characteristics; while simultaneously thinking about how great it will be and how ready I am to get home and be back on familiar soil once again.

It’s been interesting saying goodbye to my friends here, their first question is often related to when I will be back and when I tell them it will not be for a while many of them do not seem to understand just how long it will be before I return and assume that “not this summer” means I will never return. There is, however, a lot of reason to return. I have yet to see Yunnan Province’s beautiful stone forests and everlasting spring, the Three Gorges Dam, or the Terra Cotta Warriors to name just a few of the many attractions both historic and touristy that will one day bring me back to China. It seems unrealistic to spend three months of my adult in a place and not have this drive to return sometime when I have more money and time to explore and appreciate the scenery and aesthetic power of the country. That trip, I’m afraid, will have to wait a long time.

This has been a production of the Gustavus Department of Communication and Marketing in association with KGSM Radio and for the final time, this podcast was recorded at United International College in Zhuhai, China. My name is Greg Boone and this is Aural Fixation the Podcast from China. Thanks for listening.

  continue reading

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