Where the Heart Is

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. 

We went to the Yumway once the sky was dark enough to justify pulling the kite back in. We sat down and to discuss dinner options for the evening. We quickly realized Johann and I weren't hungry at all due to the late lunch. So our planning session became just a sit and talk session. I guess they generally do. As we were sitting there, chatting about the stories life has handed us, Silent Night came over the speakers. China doesn't really understand the timing of Christmas I've discovered. Brian started singing melody. Johann and I immediately joined in with the harmonies that have been drilled into our memories. Three verses of angelic Silent Night in a bar in China. No, life doesn't get better. 

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. 

One Voice

"This is the sound of one voice. One people one voice. A song for everyone of us. This is the sound of one voice." 

*** 

Temples. Buddha. That was our last two days. The end. 

Oh. Did you want some more details? Okay, okay. Yesterday, we began with a two hour van ride out of Chengdu. We went to Leshan. It is a tiny little town, to say the least. Only about 20,000 people in it. Ah, that still makes me crack up. 20,000 is a small population. No wonder when people from China visit McCarthy it is awe-inspiring. Anyway. We started with a boat tour. The main site was the Giant Buddha, built in 730 AD. Did you read that right? GIANT. Seventy meters (230 feet) tall, a giant Buddha is carved into the red rocks. It is like Mount Rushmore but for Buddhism. The boat ride doesn't get you to the spot, as we all thought it would. Instead, it just shows you the view from the water. This is the only way to really see the full view from the front. The sun blocked most of the pictures, but we tried. So we put on "lifevests" (yes, quotation markes are needed) before we went on top of the boat for a better view of the Leshan Buddha. 

 

We had lunch in the little town. Afterwards, our driver took us to the entrance to the park. We climbed up the stairs with all the other tourists hoping to see the Buddha. The sun was beating down despite the grey sky filled with pollution. Sweat beaded on all of our foreheads, threatening to drop down at any second. On the staircase upwards, small caves, etched into the side of the walls, were filled with statues or pictures. Maybe it was a monk who influenced this area. Maybe it was a dragon, a tiger, or whatever else with a story. Abby, as always, painted the story for us and never let a detail slip. I've nothing but praise for this girl. 

We arrived at the top of the hill and the head of the Buddha. They had not exaggerated the impressive size of this statue. Standing at the top, looking down, the people at his feet look like ants. The curls on his head alone are enough to impress you. Then add the details from those curls down to the toe nails on his huge feet? Amazing. Abby told us the line to go down to his feet could get quite long. We tried to scope it out before we made a decision. I urged everyone to go. Thirty minutes later, back to back with everyone else in the crowd, trying to decide if the sweat touching me was mine or someone else's, I wasn't very happy. Disneyland efffect. Dave kept looking back at me and saying, "Who's idea was this?!" But finally, FINALLY... we made it to the bottom of the staircase.  People knelt down to kiss the ground and offer their prayers. The river rushed silently and confidently in the background. The city on the otherside kept going despite this whole other world happening here. Staring up at Buddha was almost worth it all. It was so beautiful, it was almost worth going back up the narrow staircase of packed people. But my travel tip for the day is, I think it is just as effective to stay at the top. Live and learn.  

Back at the top, we wiped our sweaty brows before entering the temple. Abby told us that this was a odd spot because they built the temple before the giant statue. You would think that if they were going to build a big impressive feature like that, they would focus on that first. But not here. So we began our days of temples here. I'm going to save my thoughts and big descriptions for a bit. 

We next drove to the bottom of Mount Emei. Signs everywhere were advertising PATA- Pacific Asia Travel Association- conferences. Little did we know, our hotel was hosting it. We entered into the hotel that was surrounded by it's own little rainforest. Inside was a chaotic mess of people, conferences, schedules, and name tags. But we checked into our room to have a quick break before going out to dinner. I sat at the window and counted how many different kinds of butterflies I could see in the tiny forest outside my window. It was gorgeous. My favorite hotel in China thus far purely because of that fact. 

For dinner, we went to a place called "The Teddy Bear." It was a hostel/restaurant combo. The walls were covered in writings. Every inch was a piece of someone's trip. Of course, I signed it with a little piece of my mind. Johann wanted to just put his initials. I told him he wasn't allowed. So, in Brian's honor, he wrote, "But! Are we having fun?" I counted it. 

There was a shirt on the wall with a saying on the back. "Walk with your feet. See with your eyes. Experiance with your heart." I was enamored immediately. Dave mocked me because, "How could you not do all those things?" But I bought it anyway. 

Abby asked if we wanted to see a show that the local's would go to in the evening. So off we went. She wasn't kidding. I never saw another Westerner, but Ellen thinks she saw three. Either way, out of an entire theater, that's not a lot. They served tea along with the show. Apparently this area is famous for their tea. The show was a combination of dance, music, acrobatics, magic, and comedic routines. Johann and I agreed it was the equivalent of a Chinese adult "Prism" show. There was one point were it just turned into stand-up comedy. Johann and I laughed because that really doesn't work when you don't speak the language. Fortunately, Abby explained to us after the show all the hilarity. But it was truly an amazing show. Impressive, original, and funny- even if you don't speak Chinese. All four of us commented our content with the show afterwards. 

Today. The grey sky suggested the heat had diminished. It was true if you looked at it with an optimistic attitude. Dreams had mixed with memories in the night, leaving me in a melancholy mood. I was also beginning to realize this was my final day of "intense" traveling. We'll be going back to the apartment tomorrow. I understand it's still traveling. I mean, my goodness, I'll still be in China. But it'll be different. So I herumphed around, sipping coffee. Yes, herumph is a word now. I was deciding to just buck up when we rode in the van to go to the mountain. 

This area is known for monkeys and temples. What is a better combination? Well. Let me put it this way. Abby said it like this, "The monkeys must be taking a day off." Not one monkey. The temples came through, but the monkeys will have to wait for another day. Abby told us normally they are everywhere. She wasn't sure what happened today. Banana strike possibly. 

The first temple, Baoguo temple, sat on top of hillsides amidst the overly lushous green rainforest. The temple was adorned in gold despite being one of the oldest in China. After climbing a long staircase to the temple, the smell of incense greets you. Candles are lit everywhere you look. In fact, hundreds of candles lie on the ground in beautiful designs. Men, women, and even children light incense all around you. They bow three times, mumbling prayers, before sticking the incense in the holder outside. So many candles light the path and area that you quickly feel even hotter because of the flames. Inside the temple, a larger than life statue of Buddha greets you, as in all temples. People kneel to kiss the ground before Buddha. Old women who struggled up the steps diligently get on the ground to kiss the ground, palms open towards Buddha in hopeful prayers. A monk watches over the room with a look of peaceful knowledge. He beats the gong every so often that fills the silent room with a direct and powerful musical note. Flowers cover the alters where candles and offerings don't already sit. I'm not Buddhist, by any means. But it was beautiful. 

We worked our way back down the mountain for lunch. Then we went back down to the base of the mountain. Disappointed about monkeys, we continued on to the next temple. The next temple was Wannian Temple. Honestly, as with cathedrals in Europe, there comes a point where I can only describe them so much. The basic concept was the same as the previous one except for this one was much bigger. But this one felt much more local than touristy. It wasn't in all reality. But for some reason the vibe of this one was people legitimately using this temple for religious reasons, not just visiting. So I sat and watched people knelt face down mumble heartfelt prayers. I took a picture with a shy kid and his parents who wanted to say hi. But I finally worked my way into a room of monks and women dressed in black robes chanting. The only instrument was a gong keeping the rhythm. The words came easily and from the heart. I found a bench in the back. I closed my eyes. I thought about that t-shirt. I know, I can't believe I'm about to pull a quote off a shirt. But I wondered why Dave didn't like it. Because I understood it immediately. I can walk up those stairs to the temple. I can see the statue of Buddha. But to experience it? That's in your heart. 

I know I said it before, but let me say it again because I truly truly mean it all. I'm not Buddhist, at all. But it's beautiful. I know I'm going to sound like a hippie. I tried explaining this to Johann and he rolled his eyes while saying I must have been raised in Boulder. But I just find it amazing how everywhere you go, people are the same. We all want to find a way to explain terrible situations and heartache. We all want to protect our children and teach them morals. We all acknowledge there is evil in the world, then strive to find the beauty in the world. We all want to have hope and peace within ourselves. I'm not trying to make a controversial statement and I'm not naive enough to give a beauty pageant "world peace" speech. But I just want to say it like this. My feet were joyfully walking up the stairs. My eyes were brimmed with understanding tears. My heart was filled with love as I watched those people give their whole heart to chants and prayers. I thought of how many people I've seen, tearfilled after disaster, just hoping for a seed of hope. I thought of mothers holding their newborn child, praying for wisdom in raising their whole world. Across the world, the hope and love is the same. We all have one voice. 

"This is the sound of all of us. Singing with love and the will to trust. Leave the rest behind it will turn to dust. This is the sound of all of us. 

This is the sound of one voice. One people, one voice. A song for everyone of us. This is the sound of one voice."