I started getting some worried emails lately. I am alive. I just didn't keep blogging for a bit. Here's why...
We got back from the trip and became pandas. The next couple days were filled with loads and loads laundry, little outings during the day, movie nights, and general laziness. Well between Ellen, Johann, and I. Dave went to work the morning we got back from the trip. Someone has to be responsible. I will say I worked on college and job applications. So I guess you could say productivity was semi-done by all. Kind of...
This weekend is a holiday, much like our Labor Day, for China. So Dave had time off. Yesterday we utilized this opportunity. The four of us grabbed some bikes and headed out. The weather was perfect. The last couple days had been ungodly hot and humid, which really only encouraged the panda behavior. Johann and I tried to bike to Liaou. I nearly died on the side of the road. Okay, that's an exaggeration. But what is good writing without exaggerations? But yesterday was just cool enough for exercise to seem doable. So off we went.
The four of us road past the turn to Liaou, onwards towards the dock for the ferry. We had decided to go to Shepan Island. Ironically, so did every person within a twenty kilometer radius. The moment Dave and I turned the corner into the ferry, we both said the same thing. "Oh yeah, it's a holiday."
I am not trying to cause a kerfuffle. (Yes, that is a word.) But this is really the only way to describe this moment. Remember those history lessons about immigration boats coming to America? Landing in New York and being glad you could have a personal bubble again? Okay. That was this ferry ride. The return trip in the evening was worse. I'm going to combine the initial and return trip into one story.
A tiny boat that you watched come ashore and were amazed it was afloat. Crowds and a gang of mopeds were held back by two people and a hanging piece of road. One guy touched the rope and the cluster of mopeds burst forward. Dave made it across, leaving behind the three of us. He went to the guy holding the rope. "They are my family. They need to come too." So this poor guy tried to just let us through. One man on a moped ran over Ellen's bike trying to come across as well. Ellen dragged her bike out and forged ahead as the two Chinese men started screaming at each other. I was still behind the moped and the rope. I realized I was being ignored and so I just yelled at the guy on the moped. "Hey!" He just looked at me and continued yelling at the other man as he scooted backwards an inch or two. Not really what I was going for. Finally, I picked up the bike so I could manuever past the two men, who just kept yelling at each other. We went down the ramp onto the boat. They left the ramp down for the whole trip because people and mopeds were squished on top of it. It was impossible to close the ramp. Dave yelled backwards, hoping we had all made it. The wind was horrendous in the evening causing waves to break over the side onto us. Dave and I caught the brunt of the waves because we were on the edge of the boat. Mothers gathered the children under jackets, trying to keep them warm. Men sat on the railings of the boat because there was physically no room on the floor for them. I couldn't help but laugh. What an absurd situation. Johann joined in on the laughing and said, "I hope America is nice." The other side was still China. We didn't go that far.
Shepan Island has biking routes to see the scenery. But we went to the "main tourist attractions." The first stop was The Savage Caves. In years past, men used to live in these caves and mine. Some of the tools and ladders and such are still visible. Massive caves are etched into the side of the mountain. Ponds sit outside the caves, fed by pouring waterfalls off the slick rocks above. The green trees and flowers cover where the sidewalk doesn't conquer. People crawled over every inch of the sidewalks, exploring every crevasse of the caves. What amazed me was people used to live in these caves until 2006. I don't mean they had a house casually sitting in these caves. They used the system for living that was used for the miners. It was humbling to see. 2006! Where were you living in 2006? But I then I thought about some of the living circumstances that I've seen all over China. I realized this was actually a better situation than some. Humbling. The only word for it. We explored, took pictures, and meandered for a while before deciding we had seen it all.
We hopped on our bikes to head to the next destination. The single lane road was attempting to fit all the walking tourists, bikes, lines of cars, and street vendors. There was some level of understanding about where everyone was supposed to be on the road. But really the rule was, "I won't hit you. So don't hit me." I became very used to cars squeezing past me, close enough that my handlebars sometimes were centimeters from the mirrors. I know I said exaggeration makes writing better, but this part is nothing but truth. The first few minutes were terrifying, but it quickly became a nonchalant and overly trusting attitude among everyone on the road.
We arrived at the next stop: Pirate's Cave. Um... self-explanatory, hopefully. Pirate's lived in this cave. Dave jokingly said none of the statues could have been pirates because they didn't look at all like Johnny Depp or Orlando Bloom. What was neat about this spot was the intricate carvings on the ceilings and walls. As you walked along, suddenly there would be a carving of a ship sticking out of the wall. Or a dragon peeking out of the water. Or whatever else you could think of. It was wonderful. When these were made was still up for debate. We explored the many rooms. One room really stuck out to us. We entered through a small door into a giant room of the cave. The amplification of the room made it very loud. What was amusing was the walls were set up for rock climbing. No ropes. No people watching over it. Just kids and adults climbing high enough were a fall would be more than problematic. Johann and I smiled and went for it. I practiced serious self control, I will have you all know. I figured since my arm can barely take monkey bars right now as we discovered recently, I better not climb where there was no backup. It's one thing to climb with ropes where if my arm gives out I can just come down. But a whole different story when I would still have to down climb. So I went halfway up, and then hung out and watched the people be thrilled by the concept of climbing up a wall. We explored the caves for a few hours. Finally, we struggled back through the roads and ferry ride back to the otherside.
We stopped in Liaou for lunch around 4pm. Totally on top of the prompt lunchtime. Then we rode back to the site. The wind blew straight into our face which made us feel as though we weren't really biking that hard. When we arrived back in the apartment, I took a shower to wash off the sweat from myself and everyone else on that boat. How's that visual treating you? Mmm... Anyway. Minutes after putting on clean clothes, Brian messaged me. "My place in 15 minutes. Dress warm." Okay then. So Johann and I left, dressed warmly. Which during springtime in China means a windbreaker.
Brian opened the door to his apartment while saying, "We are going kite flying!" He had put his whole kite collection on the couch. We debated on which kites to bring. We were fighting time and the setting sun. Complex kites were out based on the fact we wouldn't know how to put them together and that would waste time. Light up one's were a good idea for night, but we weren't sure the batteries were charged. Throw two in just in case. Two simple ones that still look cool. Off we went, balancing kites under our arms while riding bikes.
You know the expression "happy as a kid on Christmas morning?" Well I think it should be "happy as a Becca flying kites." I've flown kites once before, as far as I can remember. Ironically, on the Chitina river in Alaska on a rafting trip. Apparently it took a China trip to do it again. Brian instructed the building of the kites. Let me put it this way... We flew one kite the whole time. But it was awesome. It soared high into the sky. Brian chuckled as he watched my face light up... well like a Becca flying kites. The waves crashed against the rocks below us on the beach. The kite caught different currents in the windy sky. We joked and talked while one person would control the kite. Perfection.
I've been in a weird homeless state recently. Ever since the tickets home have been purchased, I've been wondering about that. I cannot put into words how weird it is watching my friends get ready to go to Alaska and knowing, for the first time in thirteen years, I won't be going to the small town that raised me. It's weird knowing I'll be going back to Colorado for the summer and I'll feel out of place in the state that I have been in since birth. China sure isn't home. Spain is wonderful, but not home. So I've been feeling homeless. Before I left in January, everyone casually threw out the warning, "You won't come home after this. You'll come back to the house that you grew up in, but it won't be home." I had heard it, but suddenly I understand it. If home is where the heart is and you don't know where your heart is, how do you know where home is? That was the question on my mind this week. So I threw it out there for some friends. I got the best response I've ever heard from my lovely cousin Daria. "Your heart is in your chest. Be present where you are. Be happy and content with where you are physically but also mentally and spiritually. Love the life you have now and your heart will always be with you, as will home."
I can't summarize it better and it eased all my worries. I'm starting to think home is just the moments with people who love you. I hope it's not a place, otherwise wandering souls, such as myself, will be forever homeless. No, home is exploring pirate caves with your family. Home is sipping coffee and joking with your uncle. Home is riding bikes against a crazy wind and turning to your aunt, laughing about how ridiculous the moment was. It's traveling the world with your brother. Home is flying kites with a new found, lifelong friend. Home is harmonizing Silent Night in a bar in China. Dari said she wasn't expecting me to understand her message. But I easily did. Home truly is where the heart is. And if your heart is with the people who love you, you'll be home when you're with them.
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