Today is Day Three of my fast, which none of you all even knew i was doing in the first place.
Fasting for me is spiritual as well as physical, a way to cleanse all layers of my self and take a look at the things i have, the things i need, and the things i think i need. It's deeply meditative and restorative, it helps me look at the things i do everyday and the way i get attached to them.
it's damn healthy.
i don't have a whole lot of energy to make a coherent and read-able blog post, so i'm going to sum this quick post up by giving you some fasting links in case you're curious. After today, when i'm finished with this fast and have more energy, a longer blog post about this topic will be in the works.
http://www.healthy.net/scr/article.aspx?ID=1996
http://www.healingdaily.com/juicing-for-health/fasting.htm
I want to quickly stress that the two above links are concerned with health, which is something that you can regain if you fast responsibly and fast for the right reasons. Fasting to slim your waist line is not a responsible reason, drinking enough water on your fast is not responsible, and attempting to work out on your fast is not responsible. If you want to do a fast, you need to do research about it and ideally consult someone you trust who has done a fast before. More on this later.
love&light
jess
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Inspirations Through Actions.
I love doing things that inspire people and I love people that do inspiring things.
I always remember when I see someone who does something that I’ve been scared to do in the past- or even something that I never thought I could do, or something I’ve never thought to do at all. I remember the first time I saw someone in China use a plastic bag as a to-go container for soup. I remember the first time I saw an old wine bottle with a cork used as a water bottle, and I remember the first time I saw a tourist teach and Indian child how to juggle. Seeing these things makes a big impression on me for two reasons; on a small scale I want to do this thing but have never had the courage, but on a bigger and more important scale I am impressed to be a person that emboldens others to do things they thought they couldn’t (or shouldn’t). Do you get what I’m getting at? I love trailblazers not only because they make something new accessible, but because they create new trailblazers in their wake. It’s always best to lead by example, as we’re told- and this is something in which I firmly believe.
There are some things in my life which have become points of inspiration for others. I’m not saying this to brag, I’m saying this because there are a lot of things that I’ve gotten over my fear of doing, and a lot of these things are rather outside society’s current conception of what you can and can’t do. One of these things is my traveling, at a young age and on my own dollar. I know that when people talk to me and hear about my travels, it allows them to think about travel and their life plan in a different (hopefully more malleable and accessible) way. Another thing is my veganism. I now need two hands to count the people in my life who have gone vegan (or are in the process, starting with vegetarianism) merely because of being around me and seeing me do it day in and day out. Because I live it, and because I love it while I’m doing it, people get to see that it’s not an arduous and difficult lifestyle. And of course, I’ll always remember the person who first inspired me to take the step to make that choice in my own life. Recently, I get to add something new to the list, something that I needed to be inspired and re-inspired multiple times to do.
I’ve shaved my head. And, aside from a bevy of compliments that I really didn’t anticipate, I’ve already had two different women tell me that though they’ve always wanted to shave their heads, they haven’t been able to find the courage- though after seeing me they are changing their minds.
That really means a lot to me, and it reinforces the idea that everything I do I do not only for myself, I do for others as well.
A big thank you to all those women I've seen who took the plunge first, enabling and empowering me to do it myself.
love&light
Jess
I always remember when I see someone who does something that I’ve been scared to do in the past- or even something that I never thought I could do, or something I’ve never thought to do at all. I remember the first time I saw someone in China use a plastic bag as a to-go container for soup. I remember the first time I saw an old wine bottle with a cork used as a water bottle, and I remember the first time I saw a tourist teach and Indian child how to juggle. Seeing these things makes a big impression on me for two reasons; on a small scale I want to do this thing but have never had the courage, but on a bigger and more important scale I am impressed to be a person that emboldens others to do things they thought they couldn’t (or shouldn’t). Do you get what I’m getting at? I love trailblazers not only because they make something new accessible, but because they create new trailblazers in their wake. It’s always best to lead by example, as we’re told- and this is something in which I firmly believe.
There are some things in my life which have become points of inspiration for others. I’m not saying this to brag, I’m saying this because there are a lot of things that I’ve gotten over my fear of doing, and a lot of these things are rather outside society’s current conception of what you can and can’t do. One of these things is my traveling, at a young age and on my own dollar. I know that when people talk to me and hear about my travels, it allows them to think about travel and their life plan in a different (hopefully more malleable and accessible) way. Another thing is my veganism. I now need two hands to count the people in my life who have gone vegan (or are in the process, starting with vegetarianism) merely because of being around me and seeing me do it day in and day out. Because I live it, and because I love it while I’m doing it, people get to see that it’s not an arduous and difficult lifestyle. And of course, I’ll always remember the person who first inspired me to take the step to make that choice in my own life. Recently, I get to add something new to the list, something that I needed to be inspired and re-inspired multiple times to do.
I’ve shaved my head. And, aside from a bevy of compliments that I really didn’t anticipate, I’ve already had two different women tell me that though they’ve always wanted to shave their heads, they haven’t been able to find the courage- though after seeing me they are changing their minds.
That really means a lot to me, and it reinforces the idea that everything I do I do not only for myself, I do for others as well.
A big thank you to all those women I've seen who took the plunge first, enabling and empowering me to do it myself.
love&light
Jess
Addendum.
Addendum
This post is an addendum to the previous post, Ambassadors, Hetero Men, and Ambassadors who are Hetero Men.
It is undeniable that the vast majority of individuals perceive themselves as heterosexual and project this self perception into the world. This, and the generally accepted power structures inherent within heterosexual relationships, are the main reasons that the most common form of street harassment occurs across the hetero male to female spectrum. This is definitely not to say that I, as a female, have never been harassed by women who perceived me as a woman, by men who perceived me as male, by genderqueers, by androgyns, or by any other of the wide spectrum of genders there are to choose from. I want to make it clear that I’m not saying, within this piece, that the only harassment that occurs is perpetrated by hetero men who are overly aggressive to women, or that men harassing women is the only kind of harassment that is truly harmful (or even that gay men do not harass hetero women, or gay women, or…). All attention that is unwanted or causes the recipient to feel uncomfortable is harmful, not matter which two individuals it is between.
I chose the example used in Ambassadors/Men because they are my most recent encounters; it’s important for me to note that in southern India I was sexually harassed by a woman. That’s right- in India, land of heteronormativity, I was propositioned in my hotel room by an Indian woman. If it’s sexual harassment, you name it and I’ve likely seen it- once you make the leap into gay/lesbian/bisexual/pansexual/asexual you start to get all kinds of wickedly odd harassment you don’t encounter as a practicing heterosexual (or a closeted queer). Not to mention the difficulties that lie in the grounds of genderqueer, trans, or androgyn.
So in summation, all harassment is equally damaging and some groups have the poor luck to have misogyny, homophobia, or just straight up hate/disgust mixed in with their particular lot.
Can’t we all just get along?
Love&light
jess
This post is an addendum to the previous post, Ambassadors, Hetero Men, and Ambassadors who are Hetero Men.
It is undeniable that the vast majority of individuals perceive themselves as heterosexual and project this self perception into the world. This, and the generally accepted power structures inherent within heterosexual relationships, are the main reasons that the most common form of street harassment occurs across the hetero male to female spectrum. This is definitely not to say that I, as a female, have never been harassed by women who perceived me as a woman, by men who perceived me as male, by genderqueers, by androgyns, or by any other of the wide spectrum of genders there are to choose from. I want to make it clear that I’m not saying, within this piece, that the only harassment that occurs is perpetrated by hetero men who are overly aggressive to women, or that men harassing women is the only kind of harassment that is truly harmful (or even that gay men do not harass hetero women, or gay women, or…). All attention that is unwanted or causes the recipient to feel uncomfortable is harmful, not matter which two individuals it is between.
I chose the example used in Ambassadors/Men because they are my most recent encounters; it’s important for me to note that in southern India I was sexually harassed by a woman. That’s right- in India, land of heteronormativity, I was propositioned in my hotel room by an Indian woman. If it’s sexual harassment, you name it and I’ve likely seen it- once you make the leap into gay/lesbian/bisexual/pansexual/asexual you start to get all kinds of wickedly odd harassment you don’t encounter as a practicing heterosexual (or a closeted queer). Not to mention the difficulties that lie in the grounds of genderqueer, trans, or androgyn.
So in summation, all harassment is equally damaging and some groups have the poor luck to have misogyny, homophobia, or just straight up hate/disgust mixed in with their particular lot.
Can’t we all just get along?
Love&light
jess
Ambassadors, Hetero Men, Ambassadors Who Are Also Hetero Men.
People ask me what I think of different countries I’ve visited, and I’m always at a bit of a loss as to what to say. How to paraphrase an entire country? Even were this gargantuan feat possible I can only give my experience, which will differ greatly from everyone before me and everyone after me who has visited the same place. Usually I end up giving the only answer I feel I can honestly give: In every country there are good people and bad people, times I’ve enjoyed and ones I haven’t. This is the only truth I can offer, and the only one I sincerely believe is true. Everywhere I have been there have amazing, friendly beautiful individuals who have made my stay, and in a lot of cases my life, much much brighter. And then there have been those individuals that have made me embarrassed for humanity as a whole. This concept of good aspects/bad aspects is certainly true of American tourists I’ve met- some make me truly proud to be American when I see the way they represent our country: others have made me ashamed and disappointed that the rest of us are being given a bad name. It’s on this scale where no absolute ‘good or bad’ exists that I analyze my travels, and my interactions.
Now, for the past month or so, I’ve been reading a lot of Fugitivus. This is a blog run by the no nonsense and highly amusing Harriet, a blog that has some really insightful posts about communication between men and women, and how and why some men choose to intrude on the space of women and make them feel uncomfortable, in danger, or just plain disgusted. A decent amount of the material is pulled straight from Harriet’s life and deals with issues of rape and abuse, in a way that is well thought out and engaging without blaming all men everywhere for the horrible reality that is rape. To boot, it’s got a lovely section titled “Streetluv” where female readers post incidents in which they have been approached, in public spaces, by males and made to feel nothing but happy, beautiful, and safe. The blog and that section in particular are definitely worth a peruse.
Now, the reason that I’ve introduced both of these subjects today is that two spectacular examples of all four points (good ambassadors, bad ambassadors, men who make women feel comfortable and secure and men who don’t) have been thrown into startling 3-D Interactive Technicolor, right before my very eyes. Allow me to elaborate.
Example 1
I’ve sprained my ankle (as you know if you read here often). Before spraining my ankle, I had the good fortune of happening in to the café next to my hotel, which is run by a younger Indian man and the older American woman who rooms with his family (in a business partner kind of way). The guy’s name is Vicki (or Vikki, or Viki, or Wiki if you’ve got a German accent) and his family owns the whole two story building next door. This is the guy whose mother has been massaging my injured ankle, and he’s been up and down the three flights of stairs to my room too many times to count in the past days checking to see if I’m ok, if I need anything, and bringing me things to eat from the café. In the space of time that I’ve been here, not long, we’ve developed a nice little exchange. We’ve had long conversations, tease each other, and I’ve spent an entire day, literally, out in front of his café chatting with him. Even though there is a relationship built, when he comes down to check on me he always knocks (I’ve been leaving my door unlatched during the day as friends come and go and it’s painful to get up to unlock it each and every freaking time someone wants in), comes into my room only after being invited, and never stays in my space after he’s ascertained that I’m A) ok and B) not hungry.
To me, he is a shining example of both a good ambassador for his country, neigh, a stellar ambassador, and a considerate and polite male. He’s gotten both of these awards for the same reason; he’s gone out of his way to be helpful and he’s not expecting anything in return for it. It’s clear that he sees me as a person and himself as a person, rather than seeing me as a female body and himself as the male earning privileges to it by being nice. Never once has he ever made me feel like I owe him for any of the massive number of favors he’s done for me, and that’s the biggest feat of all; acting like a solid human being. Go Viki.
Example 2
Now, with my sprained ankle, I’ve been spending a lot of time in my room. Today, I was sitting on the stone fence of my balcony watching the sunset, when something unprecedented and irksome happened. I’m sitting on top of the very corner of this fence, with my feet over the 20 foot drop in front of me. A group of small Indian children have collected on the construction site across the way, and they’re alternating playing and asking for five rupees. The door from the stairway to the balcony opens, and I hope its Viki returning with some vegetables he’s promised, though I’m doubtful as he always knocks on my door and never uses the one that’s swinging open. Out walks an Indian man, in his boxers and a tee shirt, who proceeds to walk across the entire length of the balcony and come to stop about a foot away from me, leaning on the rail. Right off the bat I’m uncomfortable; in India, not only do you never go anywhere bearing more skin than you would in front of your grandmother and the pope (let alone pants-less!), but you certainly don’t get this close to an unknown woman (if you’re male) and then strike up a conversation. It’s just not in the culture. It’s not really in any culture, if you’re strangers. He begins to talk.
Man: What are you doing here?
Me: I’m sitting. (Already very wary, and not being very friendly) What are you doing?
Man: I’m looking at you.
Me: (Uncomfortable silence, accompanied by a shift away from the man. I can’t move much, as I’m perched on the corner over a drop, and he’s blocking the only exit.)
Man: Are you here alone? Do you have a boyfriend, fiancé?
Me: Does it matter?
Silence.
Man: Where are you from?
Me: (mentally getting ready for the leap from “I’m American” to “I’m a porn star” that some people abroad make) USA.
Man: Do you want a massage? (he has just done the mental leap in his head)
Me: No. No, I don’t want massage.
Silence.
Man: Can I see your room?
Me: No.
Man: From the outside? Look in from the doorway?
Me: No.
Silence.
Man: Can I massage your legs?
Me: No.
Man: I’ve studied. Free of charge.
Me: No.
Man: If you want massage, in the night, call me.
Me: I don’t want massage.
Man: Are you mad at me?
Me: No, I’m very uncomfortable.
Man: What is this (pointing to the mala on my wrist)?
Me: It’s a mala.
Man: (physically taking my hand) Oh really? (turns over my palm, puts it next to his, and attempts to trace the lines on my hand across to the lines on his, maybe wanting to show me that we’re actually long lost soul mates from another life and THAT’S why he’s chosen to intrude on my space and make me very uncomfortable.) You see?
Me: No. Maybe you should go back upstairs now.
Man: Ok. Bye. (takes my hand in some kind of attempt to kiss it. I want to hit him.)
When I turn to look at the stairway, he’s in it, with his boxers down. In sight of the kids. I yell and he runs up the stairs.
I should have been much more direct in turning him down, though in retrospect I can’t say it would have altered the end result. It’s difficult to get over my natural compulsion to be polite to people at all times, even when they’re being impolite to me and invading my space. I had hoped that he would get the message and leave me alone, without having to make a scene. Obviously that didn’t happen. I will not make the same mistake again, though I will be careful to not allow this incident to make me overly negative to every person who approaches me.
It’s important to examine and discuss these issues when they come up. On the one hand, to reinforce and applaud positive behavior; by placing this account on a public forum I can hope that someone somewhere will be inspired by it and act in a similar fashion. On the other hand, to make it clear that some kinds of behavior are not OK, and that these kinds of behavior in no way reflect upon the person being harassed.
In today’s society, when an individual is friendly and generous with no sexual motives whatsoever (or at least, without imposing them on the other person) I am impressed to the deepest depths of my being. It makes me feel warm, happy, and tips me off that this is a person who is good to have in my life. In fact, it makes me want to give this person my phone number.
With these contrasting points of hope and disgust, I leave you to consider the interactions in your own life, and how you react to them.
love&light
jess
Now, for the past month or so, I’ve been reading a lot of Fugitivus. This is a blog run by the no nonsense and highly amusing Harriet, a blog that has some really insightful posts about communication between men and women, and how and why some men choose to intrude on the space of women and make them feel uncomfortable, in danger, or just plain disgusted. A decent amount of the material is pulled straight from Harriet’s life and deals with issues of rape and abuse, in a way that is well thought out and engaging without blaming all men everywhere for the horrible reality that is rape. To boot, it’s got a lovely section titled “Streetluv” where female readers post incidents in which they have been approached, in public spaces, by males and made to feel nothing but happy, beautiful, and safe. The blog and that section in particular are definitely worth a peruse.
Now, the reason that I’ve introduced both of these subjects today is that two spectacular examples of all four points (good ambassadors, bad ambassadors, men who make women feel comfortable and secure and men who don’t) have been thrown into startling 3-D Interactive Technicolor, right before my very eyes. Allow me to elaborate.
Example 1
I’ve sprained my ankle (as you know if you read here often). Before spraining my ankle, I had the good fortune of happening in to the café next to my hotel, which is run by a younger Indian man and the older American woman who rooms with his family (in a business partner kind of way). The guy’s name is Vicki (or Vikki, or Viki, or Wiki if you’ve got a German accent) and his family owns the whole two story building next door. This is the guy whose mother has been massaging my injured ankle, and he’s been up and down the three flights of stairs to my room too many times to count in the past days checking to see if I’m ok, if I need anything, and bringing me things to eat from the café. In the space of time that I’ve been here, not long, we’ve developed a nice little exchange. We’ve had long conversations, tease each other, and I’ve spent an entire day, literally, out in front of his café chatting with him. Even though there is a relationship built, when he comes down to check on me he always knocks (I’ve been leaving my door unlatched during the day as friends come and go and it’s painful to get up to unlock it each and every freaking time someone wants in), comes into my room only after being invited, and never stays in my space after he’s ascertained that I’m A) ok and B) not hungry.
To me, he is a shining example of both a good ambassador for his country, neigh, a stellar ambassador, and a considerate and polite male. He’s gotten both of these awards for the same reason; he’s gone out of his way to be helpful and he’s not expecting anything in return for it. It’s clear that he sees me as a person and himself as a person, rather than seeing me as a female body and himself as the male earning privileges to it by being nice. Never once has he ever made me feel like I owe him for any of the massive number of favors he’s done for me, and that’s the biggest feat of all; acting like a solid human being. Go Viki.
Example 2
Now, with my sprained ankle, I’ve been spending a lot of time in my room. Today, I was sitting on the stone fence of my balcony watching the sunset, when something unprecedented and irksome happened. I’m sitting on top of the very corner of this fence, with my feet over the 20 foot drop in front of me. A group of small Indian children have collected on the construction site across the way, and they’re alternating playing and asking for five rupees. The door from the stairway to the balcony opens, and I hope its Viki returning with some vegetables he’s promised, though I’m doubtful as he always knocks on my door and never uses the one that’s swinging open. Out walks an Indian man, in his boxers and a tee shirt, who proceeds to walk across the entire length of the balcony and come to stop about a foot away from me, leaning on the rail. Right off the bat I’m uncomfortable; in India, not only do you never go anywhere bearing more skin than you would in front of your grandmother and the pope (let alone pants-less!), but you certainly don’t get this close to an unknown woman (if you’re male) and then strike up a conversation. It’s just not in the culture. It’s not really in any culture, if you’re strangers. He begins to talk.
Man: What are you doing here?
Me: I’m sitting. (Already very wary, and not being very friendly) What are you doing?
Man: I’m looking at you.
Me: (Uncomfortable silence, accompanied by a shift away from the man. I can’t move much, as I’m perched on the corner over a drop, and he’s blocking the only exit.)
Man: Are you here alone? Do you have a boyfriend, fiancé?
Me: Does it matter?
Silence.
Man: Where are you from?
Me: (mentally getting ready for the leap from “I’m American” to “I’m a porn star” that some people abroad make) USA.
Man: Do you want a massage? (he has just done the mental leap in his head)
Me: No. No, I don’t want massage.
Silence.
Man: Can I see your room?
Me: No.
Man: From the outside? Look in from the doorway?
Me: No.
Silence.
Man: Can I massage your legs?
Me: No.
Man: I’ve studied. Free of charge.
Me: No.
Man: If you want massage, in the night, call me.
Me: I don’t want massage.
Man: Are you mad at me?
Me: No, I’m very uncomfortable.
Man: What is this (pointing to the mala on my wrist)?
Me: It’s a mala.
Man: (physically taking my hand) Oh really? (turns over my palm, puts it next to his, and attempts to trace the lines on my hand across to the lines on his, maybe wanting to show me that we’re actually long lost soul mates from another life and THAT’S why he’s chosen to intrude on my space and make me very uncomfortable.) You see?
Me: No. Maybe you should go back upstairs now.
Man: Ok. Bye. (takes my hand in some kind of attempt to kiss it. I want to hit him.)
When I turn to look at the stairway, he’s in it, with his boxers down. In sight of the kids. I yell and he runs up the stairs.
I should have been much more direct in turning him down, though in retrospect I can’t say it would have altered the end result. It’s difficult to get over my natural compulsion to be polite to people at all times, even when they’re being impolite to me and invading my space. I had hoped that he would get the message and leave me alone, without having to make a scene. Obviously that didn’t happen. I will not make the same mistake again, though I will be careful to not allow this incident to make me overly negative to every person who approaches me.
It’s important to examine and discuss these issues when they come up. On the one hand, to reinforce and applaud positive behavior; by placing this account on a public forum I can hope that someone somewhere will be inspired by it and act in a similar fashion. On the other hand, to make it clear that some kinds of behavior are not OK, and that these kinds of behavior in no way reflect upon the person being harassed.
In today’s society, when an individual is friendly and generous with no sexual motives whatsoever (or at least, without imposing them on the other person) I am impressed to the deepest depths of my being. It makes me feel warm, happy, and tips me off that this is a person who is good to have in my life. In fact, it makes me want to give this person my phone number.
With these contrasting points of hope and disgust, I leave you to consider the interactions in your own life, and how you react to them.
love&light
jess
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Mother India, as She is known.
It’s 6:11pm and the sound of prayer bells is sweeping in through my windows, from across the waters of the Ganges. The scent of firesmoke drifts in from a cooking fire made by the workers across the way, and voices are echoing off the hills. It’s gotten a bit chill, so I’m wrapped up the blanket/shawl that I’ve bought to replace my thinner one.
All in all, it’s a beautiful time to be in India.
One of the things that I’m trying to uncover is what I think of India, or even what I think of the city that I’ve been laid up in for the past two weeks, Rishikesh. Before you come to India you hear many things- that India is amazing, a country of sights, sounds and textures; that India is inexplicable, that you have to experience it; that India is a rollercoaster of emotional episodes, from deep deep love to horror and pain; that India will bring you closer to your real self than you ever were before; that India is a land defined by her people, who are defined by nothing. So many things, from friends, travelogues, books, from everywhere. So many people have said, in different ways, that India will tear away all that you thought was true and replace it with an idea that is closer to who you really are, and how you really perceive the world.
But what the hell does that mean?
I’ve been pretty wary, after all of these 'sunshine and light' style comments, about deciding on anything that has been presented to me in India. I judge things pretty slowly anyway- and I think a lot of those statements have been made by people moving to India directly from a privileged, first world country- even the poorest of the poor in the states have many things that those in India can only dream of. When you move from your bubble into something so utterly and inconceivably different, it's only natural that you're going to rexamine your values and the very way you look at and interact with the world. Coming from China, and having been to some of her smallest villages, I think that I was spared this initial shock at the visceral nature of life in the thirld world. Yes, Indians live out their daily lives in full view of everyone else, yes their culture is in your face and unabashed, yes a lot of it is below standards considered safe or hygenic in the states, but for all intents and purposes, it is in many other places as well- southern China, Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam…
Why then of all of these south asian countries is India singled out as this megalith of spiritual awakening and self realization? I still don’t know. It cannot be that the traveler to India is a different traveler all together- most travelers I have met here have also run the usual southeast asian gambit (Thailand, Vietnam, Laos, Malaysia…). It might be that they are seeking different things, but I’ve met both the spiritual seeker who has gone only to Thailand and the average site seeing tourist come to India. What is it about this country that breeds this reaction, and breeds it so heavily across the board?
Anyone have any idea? I’m still considering the issue.
love&light
Jess
All in all, it’s a beautiful time to be in India.
One of the things that I’m trying to uncover is what I think of India, or even what I think of the city that I’ve been laid up in for the past two weeks, Rishikesh. Before you come to India you hear many things- that India is amazing, a country of sights, sounds and textures; that India is inexplicable, that you have to experience it; that India is a rollercoaster of emotional episodes, from deep deep love to horror and pain; that India will bring you closer to your real self than you ever were before; that India is a land defined by her people, who are defined by nothing. So many things, from friends, travelogues, books, from everywhere. So many people have said, in different ways, that India will tear away all that you thought was true and replace it with an idea that is closer to who you really are, and how you really perceive the world.
But what the hell does that mean?
I’ve been pretty wary, after all of these 'sunshine and light' style comments, about deciding on anything that has been presented to me in India. I judge things pretty slowly anyway- and I think a lot of those statements have been made by people moving to India directly from a privileged, first world country- even the poorest of the poor in the states have many things that those in India can only dream of. When you move from your bubble into something so utterly and inconceivably different, it's only natural that you're going to rexamine your values and the very way you look at and interact with the world. Coming from China, and having been to some of her smallest villages, I think that I was spared this initial shock at the visceral nature of life in the thirld world. Yes, Indians live out their daily lives in full view of everyone else, yes their culture is in your face and unabashed, yes a lot of it is below standards considered safe or hygenic in the states, but for all intents and purposes, it is in many other places as well- southern China, Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam…
Why then of all of these south asian countries is India singled out as this megalith of spiritual awakening and self realization? I still don’t know. It cannot be that the traveler to India is a different traveler all together- most travelers I have met here have also run the usual southeast asian gambit (Thailand, Vietnam, Laos, Malaysia…). It might be that they are seeking different things, but I’ve met both the spiritual seeker who has gone only to Thailand and the average site seeing tourist come to India. What is it about this country that breeds this reaction, and breeds it so heavily across the board?
Anyone have any idea? I’m still considering the issue.
love&light
Jess
Give a little love to the world...
And the healing never stops! You want to know how it is that on the third day after my horrific sprain I’m up and hobbling around, with little pain but lots of trepidation about falling over again? Ok, I’ll tell you!
Let me give you a quick rundown of the situation as it’s been thus far:
(By quick I mean probably too long winded for anyone but my mom to actually enjoy)
Evening of the 9th: I fall down the stairs and brutally sprain my ankle. After assessing the situation and deciding that there is no break, I make the decision to not mention it or send for help, and spend the night alone with my ankle. I do this because I want to direct healing energy to it and make sure that I can fully assess the situation on my own, without anyone else getting into it and clouding my view, my judgement, or my body’s natural healing powers. It is massive amounts of painful. I give it Reiki and lots of love, telling it first that I’m sorry, second that I’m grateful to it, and third that I love it and it is a part of me.
Morning of the 10th: I manage to crawl my way up three flights of stairs to find someone to go next door to the café that my friends run, who then come over to look at me and ask what the hell happened. It bears no weight. It bears no movement, let alone touching. My ankle is very, very swollen, enflamed on both sides, hot to the touch, and I can’t move it beyond a feeble half inch to either side- and even this is brutally painful. Did I mention painful? Did I also mention that I’ve got a really, really high pain tolerance, so all this bitching about painful is legit? Forget about rotating it or turning it in a complete circle; I can wiggle my toes with some difficulty, but not quickly and not with much dexterity. And it hurts.
I am treated to two immensely, earth shatteringly painful massage sessions by Ganga (the mother of the owner of the café), who comes to my room, grabs my ankle and proceeds to forcefully massage all the tendons and tissues that are inflamed- she also grabs each toe in turn and shakes my entire leg with it. I beg for mercy, and ask her to please dear god stop. Despite this, I feel it is a positive session. The second session that night is painful, but not as bad as the previous one. I don’t say fuck even once (though I do degenerate into repeating, over and over, that it hurts like a bitch). I notice marked improvements in my range of motion and stiffness. She finishes by giving it a warm oil/tumeric rub and then wrapping it in bandage supplied by another friend. My foot officially smells the best it has, possibly ever. I get a Reiki session from a friend who has just been initiated into level two- it feels really good and I get a very positive energy surge straight from my foot up into my heart chakra, which then settles onto the outside of my shoulders. Just typing that, I feel like a blissed out new-agey person, but maybe that’s what I’m turning into. I fall into a much needed sleep.
Morning of the 11th: I wake up and notice that my ankle no longer feels like it is damaged, but feels stiff and sore instead. Unwrapping my ankle- hey! The swelling has gone down considerably. I hobble, assisted, upstairs, where I am informed by a friend who did some research that because my ankle will not bear any weight at all (a little weight is ok, but any pressure is met with horrible horrible agonizing pain), and due to the 48 hours of swelling (I really can’t stress how swollen it was- not only was the whole thing huge, but the right side of my ankle had a half baseball sized lump jutting out of it; the epitome of sexy) I have what is classified as a 3rd tier sprain- the most serious kind you can get, and advised that I should get an x-ray. I decide to wait and see how and if it improves, cause we’re not going to do much with the x-ray info either way, save know that I need to elevate it and not put weight on it- two things I fully intend to do anyway. I sit at the café for the whole day, chatting with Vikki (owner and son of Ganga) and drinking his strong ginger tea. Ganga comes by and massages the ankle, which is painful but not near the excruciating ordeal of the previous day. Through the day I have the constant urge to stretch and rotate it, which doesn’t hurt but instead, GASP, feels good. That night (or rather, tonight at the time of writing), Ganga sends a man into the jungle to find a specific leaf, gives me the massage (much less painful than even the morning session), rubs in hot (hot hot hot ouch of my god that burns! Is my skin crisping under this shit?) oil and tumeric, wraps my oil/tumeric covered ankle is said leaf, and then wraps the whole ordeal in a bandage- rather like a sprained ankle/tumeric/jungle leaf burrito, if you will.
And directly after the massage session- I can walk on the ankle. Let me repeat: I CAN NOW WALK ON THE ANKLE. Well, walk is an optimistic term- lets go instead with hobble. But dude, seriously…that’s such a massively vast improvement in 2 days time that I can’t even believe it. Everyone that saw my ankle two days ago visibly flinched and asked if it was broken. It was gnarly. And painful. Painfully gnarly.
This morning: The ankle can now rotate, and i can still walk on it. Well, I can hobble on it. Through the love and energy of Ganga, her son, my friend Caitlyn, myself, and the universe, my ankle is healing very well and very beautifully. And you know what, I'm okay with the injury and okay with the time it's taking to heal- long or short. Yes, of course short is better, but I'm learning so much through this process that I can only be thankful it happened. And i mean that.
Intense.
love&light
Jess
Let me give you a quick rundown of the situation as it’s been thus far:
(By quick I mean probably too long winded for anyone but my mom to actually enjoy)
Evening of the 9th: I fall down the stairs and brutally sprain my ankle. After assessing the situation and deciding that there is no break, I make the decision to not mention it or send for help, and spend the night alone with my ankle. I do this because I want to direct healing energy to it and make sure that I can fully assess the situation on my own, without anyone else getting into it and clouding my view, my judgement, or my body’s natural healing powers. It is massive amounts of painful. I give it Reiki and lots of love, telling it first that I’m sorry, second that I’m grateful to it, and third that I love it and it is a part of me.
Morning of the 10th: I manage to crawl my way up three flights of stairs to find someone to go next door to the café that my friends run, who then come over to look at me and ask what the hell happened. It bears no weight. It bears no movement, let alone touching. My ankle is very, very swollen, enflamed on both sides, hot to the touch, and I can’t move it beyond a feeble half inch to either side- and even this is brutally painful. Did I mention painful? Did I also mention that I’ve got a really, really high pain tolerance, so all this bitching about painful is legit? Forget about rotating it or turning it in a complete circle; I can wiggle my toes with some difficulty, but not quickly and not with much dexterity. And it hurts.
I am treated to two immensely, earth shatteringly painful massage sessions by Ganga (the mother of the owner of the café), who comes to my room, grabs my ankle and proceeds to forcefully massage all the tendons and tissues that are inflamed- she also grabs each toe in turn and shakes my entire leg with it. I beg for mercy, and ask her to please dear god stop. Despite this, I feel it is a positive session. The second session that night is painful, but not as bad as the previous one. I don’t say fuck even once (though I do degenerate into repeating, over and over, that it hurts like a bitch). I notice marked improvements in my range of motion and stiffness. She finishes by giving it a warm oil/tumeric rub and then wrapping it in bandage supplied by another friend. My foot officially smells the best it has, possibly ever. I get a Reiki session from a friend who has just been initiated into level two- it feels really good and I get a very positive energy surge straight from my foot up into my heart chakra, which then settles onto the outside of my shoulders. Just typing that, I feel like a blissed out new-agey person, but maybe that’s what I’m turning into. I fall into a much needed sleep.
Morning of the 11th: I wake up and notice that my ankle no longer feels like it is damaged, but feels stiff and sore instead. Unwrapping my ankle- hey! The swelling has gone down considerably. I hobble, assisted, upstairs, where I am informed by a friend who did some research that because my ankle will not bear any weight at all (a little weight is ok, but any pressure is met with horrible horrible agonizing pain), and due to the 48 hours of swelling (I really can’t stress how swollen it was- not only was the whole thing huge, but the right side of my ankle had a half baseball sized lump jutting out of it; the epitome of sexy) I have what is classified as a 3rd tier sprain- the most serious kind you can get, and advised that I should get an x-ray. I decide to wait and see how and if it improves, cause we’re not going to do much with the x-ray info either way, save know that I need to elevate it and not put weight on it- two things I fully intend to do anyway. I sit at the café for the whole day, chatting with Vikki (owner and son of Ganga) and drinking his strong ginger tea. Ganga comes by and massages the ankle, which is painful but not near the excruciating ordeal of the previous day. Through the day I have the constant urge to stretch and rotate it, which doesn’t hurt but instead, GASP, feels good. That night (or rather, tonight at the time of writing), Ganga sends a man into the jungle to find a specific leaf, gives me the massage (much less painful than even the morning session), rubs in hot (hot hot hot ouch of my god that burns! Is my skin crisping under this shit?) oil and tumeric, wraps my oil/tumeric covered ankle is said leaf, and then wraps the whole ordeal in a bandage- rather like a sprained ankle/tumeric/jungle leaf burrito, if you will.
And directly after the massage session- I can walk on the ankle. Let me repeat: I CAN NOW WALK ON THE ANKLE. Well, walk is an optimistic term- lets go instead with hobble. But dude, seriously…that’s such a massively vast improvement in 2 days time that I can’t even believe it. Everyone that saw my ankle two days ago visibly flinched and asked if it was broken. It was gnarly. And painful. Painfully gnarly.
This morning: The ankle can now rotate, and i can still walk on it. Well, I can hobble on it. Through the love and energy of Ganga, her son, my friend Caitlyn, myself, and the universe, my ankle is healing very well and very beautifully. And you know what, I'm okay with the injury and okay with the time it's taking to heal- long or short. Yes, of course short is better, but I'm learning so much through this process that I can only be thankful it happened. And i mean that.
Intense.
love&light
Jess
Friday, December 11, 2009
Good morning, recovery.
Oh, how I have over estimated my bounds. Here I, presser of bruises (my own, not those of others) and survivor of a vicious bout of kidney stones (it took a week for them to pass!), known kinkster and embracer of breathing over painkillers (painkillers! No thank you, ma’am, my pranayama and meditation will see me through), I have been brought to my knees.
Or rather, I have been brought to the status of whimpering and writhing patient on the surgery table of my own bed.
I sense confusion. Allow me to clarify.
As we know, I’m in India. I’ve got a bedroom on the very bottom floor of a hotel that overlooks, with grand sweeping views, the holy Ganges river. Very bottom floor as in, three flights of stairs and one construction site down from the rest of the rooms in hotel. I don’t mind the distance- it’s quiet and removed, with larger windows and more natural light than the other rooms. And it’s one hundred rupees cheaper. Sure, theres no hot water, but it’s nice to be far from everyone else. I always have been a slightly elitist hermit. Just ask my mom. All in all, the situation is ideal- and made even better by the slight inconveniences that might throw others off.
It is one of those inconveniences that brings me to the position in which I find myself now, one foot elevated and wincing with each weight shift. On the way down my privacy ensuring stairs last evening, I missed the last one and spectacularly ate it to the bottom of the darkened staircase. Now, let us assess: Jessie, shaken and battered, curled over her throbbing ankle/foot which are both swelling by the moment. Help? Three flights up. Ability to walk? Firmly in both the future and the past. Situation? Moderately dire.
Luckily I was retreating back to the dungeon (as my room is referred to) after going up to request a bucket of warm water in which to bathe. A man would be down shortly with said bucket- I would not lie in a trembling heap until exhaustion overcame me and I was found days later, half eaten by monkeys ( a concern which briefly crossed my mind). Bad news- now I am stuck in an Indian hill town, without the ability to walk. Hill town. As in, the town is built on a hill. And I live at the apex. At the apex, and down three flights of stairs.
Suffice to say, I am now getting very familiar with the inside of my room.
But it is not this which has me whimpering and convulsing in spasms of pain, it’s the ayurvedic massage treatment that I’m having done on said ankle, mainly involving the mother of a local friend coming in and, with no reservations whatsoever, getting into the nitty gritty painful bits of my sprain and rubbing away.
Now, it’s not painful in a sharp bad pain kind of way, but in a horribly stiff sore muscle kind of way.
And it’s turning me into a bed sheet gripping, hoarse throated, begger-of-mercy.
But really, I’m ok. More on the situation later. Now, i'm hungry. Where have my crutches got to...
Love&light
jess
Or rather, I have been brought to the status of whimpering and writhing patient on the surgery table of my own bed.
I sense confusion. Allow me to clarify.
As we know, I’m in India. I’ve got a bedroom on the very bottom floor of a hotel that overlooks, with grand sweeping views, the holy Ganges river. Very bottom floor as in, three flights of stairs and one construction site down from the rest of the rooms in hotel. I don’t mind the distance- it’s quiet and removed, with larger windows and more natural light than the other rooms. And it’s one hundred rupees cheaper. Sure, theres no hot water, but it’s nice to be far from everyone else. I always have been a slightly elitist hermit. Just ask my mom. All in all, the situation is ideal- and made even better by the slight inconveniences that might throw others off.
It is one of those inconveniences that brings me to the position in which I find myself now, one foot elevated and wincing with each weight shift. On the way down my privacy ensuring stairs last evening, I missed the last one and spectacularly ate it to the bottom of the darkened staircase. Now, let us assess: Jessie, shaken and battered, curled over her throbbing ankle/foot which are both swelling by the moment. Help? Three flights up. Ability to walk? Firmly in both the future and the past. Situation? Moderately dire.
Luckily I was retreating back to the dungeon (as my room is referred to) after going up to request a bucket of warm water in which to bathe. A man would be down shortly with said bucket- I would not lie in a trembling heap until exhaustion overcame me and I was found days later, half eaten by monkeys ( a concern which briefly crossed my mind). Bad news- now I am stuck in an Indian hill town, without the ability to walk. Hill town. As in, the town is built on a hill. And I live at the apex. At the apex, and down three flights of stairs.
Suffice to say, I am now getting very familiar with the inside of my room.
But it is not this which has me whimpering and convulsing in spasms of pain, it’s the ayurvedic massage treatment that I’m having done on said ankle, mainly involving the mother of a local friend coming in and, with no reservations whatsoever, getting into the nitty gritty painful bits of my sprain and rubbing away.
Now, it’s not painful in a sharp bad pain kind of way, but in a horribly stiff sore muscle kind of way.
And it’s turning me into a bed sheet gripping, hoarse throated, begger-of-mercy.
But really, I’m ok. More on the situation later. Now, i'm hungry. Where have my crutches got to...
Love&light
jess
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Forgive me. Or harbour resentment. Your choice.
Though I constantly beg your understanding of the fact that I'm traveling and lots of things are more interesting than sitting in front of the computer typing out blog posts, I forgot to ask you to forgive me for one big glistening issue.
Mispellings/grammatical errors.
On reading the last post, I found at least 5-6 typing errors or grammar problems. And I'm sorry. Really, truly sorry. You see, it's not that i'm illiterate, uneducated, or employing a small child to type out my handwritten memoirs- it's that when i make a blog post i type it out in one hurried go and then, well, do something exciting. Yes, exciting includes meditating next to the ganges and taking a nap in my room.
So you see, I'm both embarrased, apologetic, and unlikely to change my ways. So I hope you bear with me.
Love&light
Jess
Mispellings/grammatical errors.
On reading the last post, I found at least 5-6 typing errors or grammar problems. And I'm sorry. Really, truly sorry. You see, it's not that i'm illiterate, uneducated, or employing a small child to type out my handwritten memoirs- it's that when i make a blog post i type it out in one hurried go and then, well, do something exciting. Yes, exciting includes meditating next to the ganges and taking a nap in my room.
So you see, I'm both embarrased, apologetic, and unlikely to change my ways. So I hope you bear with me.
Love&light
Jess
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Re-Scheduling. And Monkeys/
You may be seeing more of me in the next few days than the last post lead you to believe. Due to untimely illness my yoga intensive has been rescheduled for a later date.
Then again, I'll be mainly resting, trekking, meditating next to the Ganges, planning travel movements for the new year, and living outside in the open air. So maybe you wont be seeing me after all. Since I am in front of the computer now, though, i decided to sit for a few more minutes and write a little post.
Shortly before I left for India, a friend of mine told me this story:
Once upon a time, there was a lady who had a monkey. A pet monkey. A cuddly simian who shared her living space, completely tame and friendly. One day a friend of this lady came to the house for a visit. The monkey, sweet and tame, went insane and tore off the lady's friend's face.
Now, I heard this story right before coming to india. I attempted to shrug it off. I tried to leave the horrible shudders of fear and revulsion that wracked my subtle body in Beijing. But no, this story lingers with me. And, in Rishikesh, there are monkeys everywhere. Cute cuddly monkeys. Mischeivious and naughty, but ultimely harmless.
Or so they say.
Now, two days ago i went to get some beetroot for dinner. Everyone says of these monkeys, which perch mostly on the bridges running over the ganges from one bank to the other, that they are harmless but will take things they want if they see them- ie, your shiny camera, a child's toy, a bag of peanuts, or your friend's face. (okay, they don't say that last one, but its what i mentally add to the list everytime i hear it). Knowing this, i'm generally pretty careful. Not only cause the monkeys freak me out, but because i want to keep my camera. This time, however, I must have been a bit careless as suddenly there was a large full grown monkey attaching itself to my bag of vegetables and hissing at me.
My only thought: If i kick it, is it more likely to drop the bag and run, or rip off my face?
It's a very unsettling situation to find yourself in- debating about the likelihood of a monkey (a monkey in the process of stealing you vegetables) ripping off one's face.
love&light
jess
Then again, I'll be mainly resting, trekking, meditating next to the Ganges, planning travel movements for the new year, and living outside in the open air. So maybe you wont be seeing me after all. Since I am in front of the computer now, though, i decided to sit for a few more minutes and write a little post.
Shortly before I left for India, a friend of mine told me this story:
Once upon a time, there was a lady who had a monkey. A pet monkey. A cuddly simian who shared her living space, completely tame and friendly. One day a friend of this lady came to the house for a visit. The monkey, sweet and tame, went insane and tore off the lady's friend's face.
Now, I heard this story right before coming to india. I attempted to shrug it off. I tried to leave the horrible shudders of fear and revulsion that wracked my subtle body in Beijing. But no, this story lingers with me. And, in Rishikesh, there are monkeys everywhere. Cute cuddly monkeys. Mischeivious and naughty, but ultimely harmless.
Or so they say.
Now, two days ago i went to get some beetroot for dinner. Everyone says of these monkeys, which perch mostly on the bridges running over the ganges from one bank to the other, that they are harmless but will take things they want if they see them- ie, your shiny camera, a child's toy, a bag of peanuts, or your friend's face. (okay, they don't say that last one, but its what i mentally add to the list everytime i hear it). Knowing this, i'm generally pretty careful. Not only cause the monkeys freak me out, but because i want to keep my camera. This time, however, I must have been a bit careless as suddenly there was a large full grown monkey attaching itself to my bag of vegetables and hissing at me.
My only thought: If i kick it, is it more likely to drop the bag and run, or rip off my face?
It's a very unsettling situation to find yourself in- debating about the likelihood of a monkey (a monkey in the process of stealing you vegetables) ripping off one's face.
love&light
jess
Monday, November 30, 2009
Movement.
Coming to you straight from Rishikesh, India.
It's lovely out here, not the soggy heat of the south nor the blistering cold of beijing. Quite pleasant, indeed.
I want to give you all exciting descriptions and breath taking views, but i'm a bit at a loss for proper incentive to sit in here on the computer when i could be out there, in the cool night air under the almost ripe moon sitting on the banks of the ganges and breathing the air sweeping down from the himalayas.
you know, you can't really fault me for that.
to give you a short hand account would be cruel, because there are so many beautiful people, experiences, places, and events for me to gloss over them in a summation post. Suffice to say, it's quite vibrant. It's as though you took everyone in town who hangs around in fisherman pants and likes to juggle, introduced them to your yogi friends, and made them open a vegetarian restaurant. Only, make that idea into an entire city. And then place it on the holiest river in hinduism. Then add some monkeys. No, add lots of monkeys.
And make every night a jam under the stars, on the rooftop of the family that took you in.
Repeat.
It's lovely out here, not the soggy heat of the south nor the blistering cold of beijing. Quite pleasant, indeed.
I want to give you all exciting descriptions and breath taking views, but i'm a bit at a loss for proper incentive to sit in here on the computer when i could be out there, in the cool night air under the almost ripe moon sitting on the banks of the ganges and breathing the air sweeping down from the himalayas.
you know, you can't really fault me for that.
to give you a short hand account would be cruel, because there are so many beautiful people, experiences, places, and events for me to gloss over them in a summation post. Suffice to say, it's quite vibrant. It's as though you took everyone in town who hangs around in fisherman pants and likes to juggle, introduced them to your yogi friends, and made them open a vegetarian restaurant. Only, make that idea into an entire city. And then place it on the holiest river in hinduism. Then add some monkeys. No, add lots of monkeys.
And make every night a jam under the stars, on the rooftop of the family that took you in.
Repeat.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
My, it's hot.
Come one, come all to the magical mystery tour.
So far I've been in Trichy for about 3 days, and a packed three days theyve been. People, sights, smells, sounds, everything. I'm sitting now in one of the city's few internet cafes, a tepid room filled with about 20 old desktops and a rather surly propreitor. Because the keyboard im using makes me irritable (its not condusive to typing very quickly!) I'm going to be brief with this one, and promise more later.
During the time I've been here I've been camped out at The Modern Hindu Hotel (pictures when i can) a modest but clean establishment frequented by those indians working in abu dabi, malaysia, indonesia, etc, who need to come back to india to get visa renewals. it's the cheapest place i could find, and theres a certain threadbare honesty that i like. It might be a bit tough, but i also feel safe- as long as i don't show any weakness. You know, like prison. Ha.
The room is maybe 8 ft by 8 ft, with an attached bathroom- the kind that has a raised squat toilet (yay! just like beijing: ah, homesick already) and a spigot jutting out of the wall at a height of about 4 feet- just tall enough for me to fully squat under to wet my body before soaping. No hot water, not electricity between 11am and 5pm, and no cleaning service (or towels, or blankets, or toilet paper...) but i'm very comfortable anyway. Everything i really need it has; clealiness, running water, a place to sleep off the ground, and a lock on the door. So really, I'm golden :)
What else to say? Tonight I'm on a night bus to chennai, and tomorrow evening im off to Delhi- from there to our real goal of rishikesh, where on Dec 3rd I'll be starting a yoga intensive with Kamal of Tattvaa Yoga. Let the growth begin!
when I'm settled i'll post next, and lengthier, and in more detail, and hopefully with pictures.
much love from your cuz
Jess
So far I've been in Trichy for about 3 days, and a packed three days theyve been. People, sights, smells, sounds, everything. I'm sitting now in one of the city's few internet cafes, a tepid room filled with about 20 old desktops and a rather surly propreitor. Because the keyboard im using makes me irritable (its not condusive to typing very quickly!) I'm going to be brief with this one, and promise more later.
During the time I've been here I've been camped out at The Modern Hindu Hotel (pictures when i can) a modest but clean establishment frequented by those indians working in abu dabi, malaysia, indonesia, etc, who need to come back to india to get visa renewals. it's the cheapest place i could find, and theres a certain threadbare honesty that i like. It might be a bit tough, but i also feel safe- as long as i don't show any weakness. You know, like prison. Ha.
The room is maybe 8 ft by 8 ft, with an attached bathroom- the kind that has a raised squat toilet (yay! just like beijing: ah, homesick already) and a spigot jutting out of the wall at a height of about 4 feet- just tall enough for me to fully squat under to wet my body before soaping. No hot water, not electricity between 11am and 5pm, and no cleaning service (or towels, or blankets, or toilet paper...) but i'm very comfortable anyway. Everything i really need it has; clealiness, running water, a place to sleep off the ground, and a lock on the door. So really, I'm golden :)
What else to say? Tonight I'm on a night bus to chennai, and tomorrow evening im off to Delhi- from there to our real goal of rishikesh, where on Dec 3rd I'll be starting a yoga intensive with Kamal of Tattvaa Yoga. Let the growth begin!
when I'm settled i'll post next, and lengthier, and in more detail, and hopefully with pictures.
much love from your cuz
Jess
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Good Morning Kuala Lumpur
I have had the craziest day.
[I should maybe preface this by saying that we are now entering CRAZY ADVENTURE SEASON 2.0!!!]
Today has been the first stretch of the newest leg of my adventures, which will be mostly comprised of India, India, and more India. I've gotten a cheap flight on AirAsia (which, if youre doing anything in our around SE asia, is the cheapest way to go) and i'll be in the country of boundless faith until early febuary. I've got a short stop in Kuala Lumpur (ie, where I'm writing to you from right now) and then the journey really begins.
Thats right. Me, a country I don't know, languages I don't speak, no guidebook, no internet, lots of mistakes, confusion, laughter, and revelation. It'll be good.
Let's start with today. Today was insane.
i ended up on a plane next to this guy -- http://www.100goals100weeks.com/ -- who was really, really cool (not to mention drop dead handsome and charming) we chatted for about 4 hours straight. he was awesome, renewed my faith in the ability of others to be totally awesome and helpful, and showed me that super cool people that do cool things with their life really do exist- and they dont have corporate backers or wads of cash. they do it on their own, on their own terms, and make it work. and have sick amounts of fun doing it. i like that.
got to KL, got lost, went to use the internet, ran into a family of 7th day adventist vegan health nuts who chatted with me for about...an hour and a half straight, then offered to drive me to the place i needed to go. They were really cool too. Did you know that 7th day adventists are all about health and helping people, and arent insane crazy religions freaks? i personally didnt know anything about them or their faith, but this family was open, intelligent, and very generous. very good ambassadors.
got to my couchsurfing place, met up with Vern [the guy im staying with] and went for what in malaysia passes as a snack- massive banana leaf--BANANA LEAF-- plate onto which a heaping helping of rice is dropped, and promptly surrounded by two curries and a cucumber cooling dish, all washed down with a 'digestive' drink made of onions, peppers, cardamom leaves, and something that burrrrrns all the way down.
why didnt i come here before?
really, a day of spectacular conversation. Ian told me about running with bulls, partying with elephants, and how to make 500o$ for two weeks work driving mining trucks off the coast of australia. The Johns' taught me about 7th day adventism, the kindness inherent in human nature, and the monkeys that terrorize their dogs/ the pythons/cobras invading their life (weekly). And vern told me that malaysian is just like mandarin, but without the tones- as in, no tenses, no conjugation, and very very easy to pick up.
love you all. talk with you soon.
jess
[I should maybe preface this by saying that we are now entering CRAZY ADVENTURE SEASON 2.0!!!]
Today has been the first stretch of the newest leg of my adventures, which will be mostly comprised of India, India, and more India. I've gotten a cheap flight on AirAsia (which, if youre doing anything in our around SE asia, is the cheapest way to go) and i'll be in the country of boundless faith until early febuary. I've got a short stop in Kuala Lumpur (ie, where I'm writing to you from right now) and then the journey really begins.
Thats right. Me, a country I don't know, languages I don't speak, no guidebook, no internet, lots of mistakes, confusion, laughter, and revelation. It'll be good.
Let's start with today. Today was insane.
i ended up on a plane next to this guy -- http://www.100goals100weeks.com/ -- who was really, really cool (not to mention drop dead handsome and charming) we chatted for about 4 hours straight. he was awesome, renewed my faith in the ability of others to be totally awesome and helpful, and showed me that super cool people that do cool things with their life really do exist- and they dont have corporate backers or wads of cash. they do it on their own, on their own terms, and make it work. and have sick amounts of fun doing it. i like that.
got to KL, got lost, went to use the internet, ran into a family of 7th day adventist vegan health nuts who chatted with me for about...an hour and a half straight, then offered to drive me to the place i needed to go. They were really cool too. Did you know that 7th day adventists are all about health and helping people, and arent insane crazy religions freaks? i personally didnt know anything about them or their faith, but this family was open, intelligent, and very generous. very good ambassadors.
got to my couchsurfing place, met up with Vern [the guy im staying with] and went for what in malaysia passes as a snack- massive banana leaf--BANANA LEAF-- plate onto which a heaping helping of rice is dropped, and promptly surrounded by two curries and a cucumber cooling dish, all washed down with a 'digestive' drink made of onions, peppers, cardamom leaves, and something that burrrrrns all the way down.
why didnt i come here before?
really, a day of spectacular conversation. Ian told me about running with bulls, partying with elephants, and how to make 500o$ for two weeks work driving mining trucks off the coast of australia. The Johns' taught me about 7th day adventism, the kindness inherent in human nature, and the monkeys that terrorize their dogs/ the pythons/cobras invading their life (weekly). And vern told me that malaysian is just like mandarin, but without the tones- as in, no tenses, no conjugation, and very very easy to pick up.
love you all. talk with you soon.
jess
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Deep Breath.
Hi all!
Thanks for bearing with me in this extremely busy time. The launch of my newest venture. The Whole Soul Bakery is happening this Sunday, so I'm more than a little distracted.
Hopefully I'll be back to tickle your fancies soon.
Peace!
Jess
Ps. If anyone is in the Beijing area and would like to receive an invitation to the launch of the most innovative new bakery in Beijing, leave a comment with your email and you shall receive :)
Monday, May 4, 2009
oh humidity. how i missed you.
As the sounds of rain drift in off the hong kong streets, i think i'll make a brief stop over here and issue the first post of substance in quite a while.
I've been about five different kinds of busy with the business starting, so hopefully all you avid readers (aka mom) can forgive me for being so utterly absent lately. Especially after starting up that topic and then promising interesting analysis and insight. I'm a bad blogger for disappearing so thoroughly. Truth be told we still have no internet in the hutong, and when i make the trek to the cafe it is inevitably to tweak some miniscule detail on the bakery's flier (or business card, or website, or...) so i have little patience or time left over for posting on the blog.
But now that i'm in hong kong, and as usual am awake before everyone else, i do have a chance to sit myself in front of a computer and engage in the time drain that is my blog. i'm down here for yet another visa run (damn you unwelcoming chinese government) and am staying with the friend of a friend that i met on my last run down here. He's something of a couchsurfer extraordinaire and is actually hosting four other people at the moment.
you might think that this means his place is large. it is not. two are on the living room floor, two in one bedroom, and one in another. what his place is, though, is welcoming and cozy, and he is extremely considerate. he has a laptop in the living room designated for use by surfers and a huge cupboard filled with spices people are welcome to use. keys are always in the mailbox, and it seems as though people are always welcome to come. he's got a fabulous page on the web with detailed directions to his little abode in a small village about an hour outside of downtown hong kong, and all in all he's a fabulous couchsurfing host. it's making me think a lot about community and the steps that people are taking to maintain a sense of this in the fast paced technological world.
Since yesterday was a travel day, i was fasting. now that it's morning and the rains are pouring down my body thinks some food might be nice, especially since i fly out tomorrow morning at 830am and dont arrive in beijing until 630pm....damn you, long shanghai stopover. damn you. and thus i leave you.
much love and many well wishes
jess
Sunday, May 3, 2009
FREEDOM
China's visa policies are a pain in my vegan ass.
Then again, it is rather nice to not be in China, even if it is only for 63 hours, and even if i'm still within sight of the border.
Something about getting out of the middle kingdom just makes my day a little bit better.
<3
Jess
Then again, it is rather nice to not be in China, even if it is only for 63 hours, and even if i'm still within sight of the border.
Something about getting out of the middle kingdom just makes my day a little bit better.
<3
Jess
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Life in the Fast Lane
So, I'm still five different kinds of busy with this new business. When i have some time i promise i'll pop back over here and delve with you into the folds and curvatures of philosophies concerning the female orgasm. Until then, I leave you with a question.
Is it horrible that I just described my business venture (first vegan bakery in the PRC, w00t) to my mother as "manifest destiny, but fewer dead indians"?
with this i leave you.
<3
ps. for whatever reason, similes that implicitly or explicitly reference cocaine are very appealing to me. this is odd, because cocaine is really really not (appealing to me).
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Whom?
I'm sorry about the silence, guys. Jessie has been super super busy. With what?
With this:
www.wholesoulbakery.weebly.com
Thats right. First vegan bakery in China. Want a bite?
love&luz
jess
With this:
www.wholesoulbakery.weebly.com
Thats right. First vegan bakery in China. Want a bite?
love&luz
jess
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Lovely.
It's ok. Crisis averted. Passport located.
I know you were all terribly worried. Couldnt sleep. Hives. Nightsweats. I'm glad to be able to to soothe your worries and calm your fears.
but more to the point...you all totally dropped the ball. i mean, i leave an engaging conversation sparking topic, tell you that i'm giving away huge hugs for the first person to form and leave a thought out opinion, and what do i get? nothing. I mean, really people. Not one of you left something? What, you think this blog is a one way street? (for those of you who are answering either A) "yes, i do think it's a one way street. thats why its a blog and not a forum, jessie." OR B) "no, i dont think its a one way street. I think it's a webpage. Nothing to do with traffic or cars." you are both correct. but thats not the point.)
you may be curious about the advancements that I've made on uncovering traditional chinese philosophical views on female orgasm. you might not care. either way, you're going to learn. And youre going to learn in installments.
Fleshing out the Myth, Part One
From my perspective, this issue of avoiding orgasm is extremely interesting (and the issue of specifically avoiding female orgasm even more so). It comes to me, at this time, from the Chinese philosophical tradition of males avoiding orgasm to preserve their ‘jing’, their essence, an immutable and irreplaceable energy (one of three kinds: jing, qi, and shen). Built into this are the obvious complications that arise in applying the same practices prescribed for males to females, and the complications in considering spiritual or intellectual ramifications of such applications. The difficulty in truly exploring such an issue lies in separating the massive weight of cultural and social opinion from your rational mind, and considering the situation from a stance hindered by nothing more than common sense. In this global society, we are all so bombarded with opinions and ideals about sexuality from such early ages that coming to a place of clear minded un-blinkered consideration is extremely difficult, in fact, I’ve often argued that it’s impossible.
I’d like to start by saying that the reason that my exploration of this is so involved is that I don’t believe any one thing can exist without consideration of all the things that came before it- each concept and idea we hold today is shaped by the myriad of opinions and climates (social, political, environmental) that predate it. Those ideals of our parents, our respective cultures, those of conquering foreign lands and domineering religions play a large role in the perceptions that are subsequently formed by us as individuals. Hell, even the whispered utterances of the kid next door effect the opinions of the matured mind. All these influences leave an indelible mark on personal theories, whether it is realized it or not. In this way, pre-conceived notions contribute to the evolution of theories and the actions of the people those theories live within. This is why as I consider the concept of male orgasm as a release of non-renewable energy sources, a dilution of the seed, even, and the connotations of this theory on female orgasm, I insist on first acknowledging the primary influences on my own sexual knowledge.
You dig?
In re-reading this, I realize that one thing I like about blogging is that I can get away with the kind of rambling that no self-respecting professor or editor would allow into a term paper or article. Take that, sentence cutters! Hoho!
And that concludes our lecture for today. Stay tuned for more riveting forays into the deep, murky universe of withholding orgasm. To come or not to come, that is the question.
Haha, ha.
jess
I know you were all terribly worried. Couldnt sleep. Hives. Nightsweats. I'm glad to be able to to soothe your worries and calm your fears.
but more to the point...you all totally dropped the ball. i mean, i leave an engaging conversation sparking topic, tell you that i'm giving away huge hugs for the first person to form and leave a thought out opinion, and what do i get? nothing. I mean, really people. Not one of you left something? What, you think this blog is a one way street? (for those of you who are answering either A) "yes, i do think it's a one way street. thats why its a blog and not a forum, jessie." OR B) "no, i dont think its a one way street. I think it's a webpage. Nothing to do with traffic or cars." you are both correct. but thats not the point.)
you may be curious about the advancements that I've made on uncovering traditional chinese philosophical views on female orgasm. you might not care. either way, you're going to learn. And youre going to learn in installments.
Fleshing out the Myth, Part One
From my perspective, this issue of avoiding orgasm is extremely interesting (and the issue of specifically avoiding female orgasm even more so). It comes to me, at this time, from the Chinese philosophical tradition of males avoiding orgasm to preserve their ‘jing’, their essence, an immutable and irreplaceable energy (one of three kinds: jing, qi, and shen). Built into this are the obvious complications that arise in applying the same practices prescribed for males to females, and the complications in considering spiritual or intellectual ramifications of such applications. The difficulty in truly exploring such an issue lies in separating the massive weight of cultural and social opinion from your rational mind, and considering the situation from a stance hindered by nothing more than common sense. In this global society, we are all so bombarded with opinions and ideals about sexuality from such early ages that coming to a place of clear minded un-blinkered consideration is extremely difficult, in fact, I’ve often argued that it’s impossible.
I’d like to start by saying that the reason that my exploration of this is so involved is that I don’t believe any one thing can exist without consideration of all the things that came before it- each concept and idea we hold today is shaped by the myriad of opinions and climates (social, political, environmental) that predate it. Those ideals of our parents, our respective cultures, those of conquering foreign lands and domineering religions play a large role in the perceptions that are subsequently formed by us as individuals. Hell, even the whispered utterances of the kid next door effect the opinions of the matured mind. All these influences leave an indelible mark on personal theories, whether it is realized it or not. In this way, pre-conceived notions contribute to the evolution of theories and the actions of the people those theories live within. This is why as I consider the concept of male orgasm as a release of non-renewable energy sources, a dilution of the seed, even, and the connotations of this theory on female orgasm, I insist on first acknowledging the primary influences on my own sexual knowledge.
You dig?
In re-reading this, I realize that one thing I like about blogging is that I can get away with the kind of rambling that no self-respecting professor or editor would allow into a term paper or article. Take that, sentence cutters! Hoho!
And that concludes our lecture for today. Stay tuned for more riveting forays into the deep, murky universe of withholding orgasm. To come or not to come, that is the question.
Haha, ha.
jess
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Well, isn't that interesting...
What do you do when you live in beijing, and realize that at the beginning of next month you need to leave china keep your 3 month multiple entry visa happy? You scan around for the cheapest flights to really cool places.
What do you do when you see a ticket to Bangkok for 200 dollars? You freak out, call your roommate, convince him to go with you, and get really excited.
What do you do when your roommate, looking through your room for your passport to tell you the expry, can't seem to find said passport? You keep calm, and go home to look yourself.
What do you do when you yourself can't find said passport? Three things, in quick concession.
1. You don't cry.
2. You don't cry.
3. OMG WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?
jess.
(ps, no one tell the chinese government.)
What do you do when you see a ticket to Bangkok for 200 dollars? You freak out, call your roommate, convince him to go with you, and get really excited.
What do you do when your roommate, looking through your room for your passport to tell you the expry, can't seem to find said passport? You keep calm, and go home to look yourself.
What do you do when you yourself can't find said passport? Three things, in quick concession.
1. You don't cry.
2. You don't cry.
3. OMG WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?
jess.
(ps, no one tell the chinese government.)
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Well look at that.
Just a little addendum for my 101th post (I didn't even realize the last one was #100). I'm trying to research the views of Daoism, Buddhism, and various assorted other Eastern Spiritual religions/ideas/concepts on the female orgasm. I've gotten onto this because all of these different schools of thought make a huge deal out of the male orgasm and the release of what is considered to be a vital life force. It's the subject of tomes and aims at conservation are the goal of many a grueling meditation regeme. But I can find scant information on the female orgasm. I've been talking about it and thinking it over a lot with various friends and teachers, because i find it interesting for a variety of reasons. Some you may be able to guess. Some you probably can't. The conclusions I've drawn thus far, I'm sure would leave you intrigued.
But, what I'm really trying to share right now is that, for some odd reason, each and everyone of the 13 links I tried to follow off of Google on this topic wouldn't open. Coincidence, or Chinese Government Fucking with Jessie's Learning Process? You decide.
On that note, I'm not going to elaborate on the various ideas I have about female orgasm and it's place in spirituality, Eastern or Western (or Northern or Southern for that matter). I'd like to hear some of you weigh in first.
(a huge hug to the first person to leave a rational, well thought opinion.)
(a hug and a cookie)
(two cookies.)
Jess
(for some reason i feel this won't get many hits....)
But, what I'm really trying to share right now is that, for some odd reason, each and everyone of the 13 links I tried to follow off of Google on this topic wouldn't open. Coincidence, or Chinese Government Fucking with Jessie's Learning Process? You decide.
On that note, I'm not going to elaborate on the various ideas I have about female orgasm and it's place in spirituality, Eastern or Western (or Northern or Southern for that matter). I'd like to hear some of you weigh in first.
(a huge hug to the first person to leave a rational, well thought opinion.)
(a hug and a cookie)
(two cookies.)
Jess
(for some reason i feel this won't get many hits....)
My my.
Hello one, hello all. I know i've been away for a few days now, but what can i say? I'm just so busy, too busy to spend my time in front of a little screen.
Now, you may say to yourself , "what the hell. I thought she was unemployed. how is she so busy? She's a liar, that Jessie! a liar!!"
And my response is, you want to know what I have been so busy with? I'll tell you.
This month is Jessie-doesnt-eat-things-she-doesnt-cook-month. So i know what i'm eating. All the time. As a vegan, distrustfulness of eating establishments is part of my nature. Coming right down to it, as a person living in China distrustfulness of eating establishments is part of my nature. So now I'm taking matters into my own hands. And bowls. And spoons. Something I've tried to do before, but I'm commiting to now. In front of all you. And my roommates. And the stray cat we've taken in. You are all my witnesses! In this same vein, it is also Jessie-doesn't-spend-over-33-kuai(about 4.50 dollars)-a-day-month. You may think this helps your argument (because you, dear reader, are now engaged in an argument that you had NO IDEA you were entering into when you started reading this) that I'm lazy and have nothing to do, because what could someone possibly do on 33 kuai a day, but it in fact supports MY argument (hoho!) that i'm sick busy. Now I'm busy walking/subwaying/busing/bike riding it everywhere. And scampering around for the best deals. And scampering in general.
In addition to these things, I've started studying taijichuan with my roomie Scott. Now we go to Beihai park (largest, oldest imperial park in China) and get our asses kicked by taiji masters every other day. I forsee a few months of crippling thigh pain in the future. It's been less than a week and after my daily workout I can barely limp back to my room. Discipline! Thighs of steel, here i come. To add to the coolness factor, the master we study with is a direct, thats right, direct descendant of the original Chen family, and he's teaching me the pure Chen style. As though this makes him better than someone from a different country who was equally dedicated and possessed equal patience and wisdom. Which is doesnt. But it does make him sound cool.
Everyone go 'OooO'.
I've also started practicing Reiki. Everybody's doing it, right? No, in all honesty, I met a really awesome teacher who is getting me going on not only Reiki but Qigong as well. I'm excited to start Qigong. I'm just really happy in general. And I'm getting healthy and active and all kinds of fabulous things of that nature. So i'm busy. Busy utilizing all my time in productive ways. Studying. Taiqi-ing (you may have noticed various spellings of Taiqi/Taiji through this post. you may do your own research and pick the one that you like best when you want to start typing it out.). Reiki-ing. You know, the general awesome-ing that you can dependly expect from Jessie.
Oh, I forgot the naked tanning on our roof. Cause it's warm enough, unless the wind is blowing. It's important to ensure my poor, malnourished and mislead vegan body receives adequate nutrients. Serious!
And with that, I love you all and I'll talk to you soon.
Jess
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Oh dear god.
It's snowing.
Apart from that, I know there are those of you who want to send me things. Cool things. Things that I'd like. Now you can do that!
You can cut and paste this address, I'd use both the Chinese and the English versions.
JessieBrockl
北京市东城区八宝坑胡同45号10007
Jessie Brockl
No. 45 BaBaoKeng Hutong,
DongCheng District, Beijing 10007
People's Republic of China
I'm waiting.
love!
Jessie
Apart from that, I know there are those of you who want to send me things. Cool things. Things that I'd like. Now you can do that!
You can cut and paste this address, I'd use both the Chinese and the English versions.
JessieBrockl
北京市东城区八宝坑胡同45号10007
Jessie Brockl
No. 45 BaBaoKeng Hutong,
DongCheng District, Beijing 10007
People's Republic of China
I'm waiting.
love!
Jessie
Friday, March 27, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
So much of a good thing...
As if two updates in a 10 minute period weren't enough, theres some new pictures here.
Check the album called "Guangzhou".
Lovely.
Andrea Gibson has one of the most impactful voices I think I've heard. Full, strong, and wielded like the weapon a voice with passion and intellect to back it can and should be. She's amazing, and seeing her live at Girlfest Honolulu is something I get all misty just thinking about. I can't even listen to her recordings without getting all emotional- and I can't watch her perform without getting all kinds of conflicting things- joy at seeing her, extreme unprecedented attraction, solidarity, pride, horrible horrible unprecedented attraction, and all of it mixed up with a dab of unrequited love. She's pertinent, she's throbbing with life, and she's one of our strongest voices continuing to spit reactionary truth in the faces of the establishment and the plastic wrapped completely irrelevant entertainment of today. Take a gander (please, leave the geese.) This is what i saw live.
EDIT: Here is where I was going to put a video from youtube of Andrea preforming her piece "For Eli". Unfortunately, China doesn't want to let me access youtube at the moment so I can't. Please go look it up yourself, if the government of the country you are accessing the internet from is lax with these kinds of allowances. Seriously. Do it.
(after watching -isn't she unwholesome amounts of attractive? violently, beautifully, gorgeous?)
<3
Apostasy: Complete!
I'm a bad, bad blog owner. In my proverbial blog related stocking, there is nothing but coal. Being an environmentalist, I really should take more steps to prevent that from happening.
Maybe I can put together a movement to switch santa from coal to tiny solar panels. Or maybe I can just blog more and stop neglecting all of you out there in readership land.
Whats the title all about? Well, I've left my job. No more five star hotels, no more weekly jet setting all over China. No more 18 hour stints on movie sets, no more ganbei with government leaders, no more languishing in private restaurant rooms through the cigarette smoke of movie directors. No more sacrificing pretty much everything i believe in to work for a machine that I utterly loathe, in the name of saving for tomorrow. I've got to say, I'm glad to be out of the game. Now I can finally back up my constant assertion that I'd rather be poor and happy than rich and so-so. I can also back up my idea that sacrificing today for tomorrow is not the road for me. Things are as i suspected- I need little to make me happy, but the simple needs I do have are imperative. Things like reliable time for myself. Things like feeling as though the work that I do helps someone, makes a difference in this huge, complex, indifferent world. I'll figure out how to get where I want to go, but I'm going to make sure I get there doing something I enjoy and believe in. It might take longer, but I'm cool with that. Unflinching dedication to enjoying every part of my life, undying devotion to only doing things I believe in.
Oh, the writings of an idealist.
How's unemployment treating me? I'm taking time to really get back to focusing on myself and my health. And I'm feeling fabulous. It's just too bad that I don't have the money or time to get over here and regale you all with tales and updates.
In a little more general, Beijing related news, spring is palpably here. It was a little hard listening to all of the spring festival business when I still had to wrap myself in 4 layers of wool and a plastic sheet just to leave the house. But now, now it is a different story. Now, as previously mentioned, I can lounge on my rooftop patio and read a book in the sun. Now I can do things in the kitchen without worrying that, because my hands are numb with cold, I'm accidentally going to chop a fingertip in my salad without noticing. Now I can hold underwear dance parties in the courtyard. Can you tell how excited I am about these underwear dance parties?
How is everyone out there?
Love
Friday, March 20, 2009
Nine on a Friday.
This blog is coming to you straight from the local israeli restaurant, next to a game of backgammon and a water pipe of shisha.
Just wanted to drop in and say hello, to all of you. should be more interesting things coming in the next day or so- unfortunately, the intertubes are still out of commission at the hutong and as such i've got to drag my sorry self to the cafe and pay for a cup of tea to get some internet access.
most of you know how little i like spending money for no reason, and few things makes less sense than paying through the nose for a single cup of tea, when an entire box of tea bags costs so little. i am loathe to head over there and pay when i could just lounge on the lovely roof of my gorgeous hutong in the sun. did i mention how much its warmed up? its almost bordering on tolerable. imagine that.
actually, the amount that its warmed up in the past week alone freaks me out. from two sweaters and a coat to a dress (short short dress- i know, you were lonely. you thought youd never come out of the closet. you longed for the light of day, you pined for the feel of flesh beneath your figure...pine no more! SPRING HAS COMETH) and some tights. though im enjoying it, really i am (the underwear dance party in the courtyard is proof. ask the roommates.)...its still rather odd.
much love.
jessie
Just wanted to drop in and say hello, to all of you. should be more interesting things coming in the next day or so- unfortunately, the intertubes are still out of commission at the hutong and as such i've got to drag my sorry self to the cafe and pay for a cup of tea to get some internet access.
most of you know how little i like spending money for no reason, and few things makes less sense than paying through the nose for a single cup of tea, when an entire box of tea bags costs so little. i am loathe to head over there and pay when i could just lounge on the lovely roof of my gorgeous hutong in the sun. did i mention how much its warmed up? its almost bordering on tolerable. imagine that.
actually, the amount that its warmed up in the past week alone freaks me out. from two sweaters and a coat to a dress (short short dress- i know, you were lonely. you thought youd never come out of the closet. you longed for the light of day, you pined for the feel of flesh beneath your figure...pine no more! SPRING HAS COMETH) and some tights. though im enjoying it, really i am (the underwear dance party in the courtyard is proof. ask the roommates.)...its still rather odd.
much love.
jessie
Monday, March 16, 2009
Thanks, Risbet.
Thanks to Liz for the correction on last post.
It should indeed have been 'laid'.
I need to admit, though, that when i saw your (liz's) comment I was a little confused. For those of you who havent seen it, it says "Laid?". Upon reading it, i thought to myself 'well, isnt that a little forward of Liz. Odd. I mean, she always was a little quirky, but this level of forthrightness is unprecedented. Huh. Is that really what she means? Well I guess I could tell her. Huh.'
Then I got ready to go to the airport and put the odd comment out of my mind.
On the plane back to Beijing, returning to my curiousity and mulling over the comment, it struck me.
She was correcting my grammar.
Ohhh.
<3
Friday, March 13, 2009
医生, take one.
well hello, lovelies.
what can this be, but two updates in as many days? my goodness. jessie must have too much time on her hands.
what insights will be unfurled in this post? what secrets of the universe probed? more pointedly, have these probes been sanitized?
I have to admit that I have nothing off the top of my head to post about, save that today I went to the doctor. I guess that works.
Attention! This post is now aimed towards sharing the experience of visiting a traditional chinese medicine doctor in china. I'm also going to mention that if Earth Wind and Fire had been smitten with the 24th night of September instead of the 21st night, I wouldn't have reminded everytime it plays that it narrowly misses my birthday. Man, how cool would it be to have that song coincide with your birthday? I have these thoughts EVERYTIME the song comes on. It kind of ruins it. Just a little.
That is so, so beside my point.
Today I headed over to the doctor for a little check up. My roommate Scott has an awesome doctor situated over by the JingSong subway stop, a hop skip and cab ride from the GuoMao stop in CBD. I mention the GuoMao stop cause it also happens to be beside my favorite of favorite vegan restaurants in Beijing, run by my friend Li. We swung by the Vegan Cafe and nabbed some delicacies of the cruelty free persuasion.
When you pull up to this clinic, it's in the bottom floor of a building around the corner from one of the largest libraries in Beijing (a whole floor of English language books! Goody!!). Walk straight down the corridor and you hit double doors leading into a very herb-y smelling waiting room. The lovely bit about this particular doctor is that his English is very good, and the clinic serves the Japanese speaking community as well as the Chinese and English. My particular visit was comprised of two main sections- first diagnosis and then treatment. I went into a cool back room where my doctor first asked some preliminary questions- medical history, whyd you come in today, hows your diet, any appendages burst into flame lately, etc etc. Then, to continue the diagnosis section of our visit, i had my tongue examined and lay (lied? layed?) down on a low examining table from which position the doctor took my pulse, felt my glands, and felt various assorted important places on my stomache and calves. Then he did a very interested and at this point unexplained chain reaction type thing where he had an assistant hold my hand while he grasped the arm of the assistant, and (supposedly) at some unintentional change in my hand her arm would twitch and then his arm would jump. i really have no idea what this was about. i need to ask.
maybe she just wanted to hold my hand.
anyway. this was the end of my diagnosis section. at this point i was handed over to the herbalist (the doctor who did my diagnosis was a muscoskeletal specialist), who was briefed by my other doctor and did her own short diagnosis using the meridian points in my hands a feet. Chinese Medicine is concerned, in large part, with the energies flowing through your body. Meridians are the main channels that these energies flow through, and main Meridian channels cane be found in your hands a feet. The way a Meridian check goes is, you supply your hands and feet (one at a time)to the doctor, who uses and electrical gauge (which is slowly pressed into each meridian's main point) to see how strong or weak the electrical charge is coming out of each point. This machine is hooked up to the computer which registers the electrical reactions as figures that then relate to your physical wellness (or illness) and even your family's medical history.
What, you want to know what mine said? Sigh. Well, she identified that my family has a history of hormone problems (such things as breast cancer, uterine cancer, etc), which is true of not only me, but i also think of most women at this point in time. The diagnosis also identified energy deficiency that relate to organs i've had trouble with in the past, and a few choice tidbits that I didn't entirely agree with. Apparently I have emotional problems. I'm really not sure I trust that particular diagnosis farther than I could throw the machine. Anyway.
After these things, she started treatments. this included but was not limited to some slight acupuncture and a little moxibustion. i'm sure most of us are familiar with acupuncture, but moxibustion is where small herbal compresses that very much resemble mini marshmellows are lit on fire and placed on the end of your acupuncture needles. you will feel like some kind of flesh/herb/steel specialty dessert while this occurs. the smoke from the herbs affects the energies that are being furthered stimulated by the needles, and also fills the room in some kind of smoke tastic cleansing type lung related thing.
I also got a bag full of herbs to be prepared as a tea every morning and taken morning and night for the next week. then i go back next week.
hopefully i'll be in beijing, but i think i'll probably be in shanghai. sigh.
any questions?
love you all,
jessie
what can this be, but two updates in as many days? my goodness. jessie must have too much time on her hands.
what insights will be unfurled in this post? what secrets of the universe probed? more pointedly, have these probes been sanitized?
I have to admit that I have nothing off the top of my head to post about, save that today I went to the doctor. I guess that works.
Attention! This post is now aimed towards sharing the experience of visiting a traditional chinese medicine doctor in china. I'm also going to mention that if Earth Wind and Fire had been smitten with the 24th night of September instead of the 21st night, I wouldn't have reminded everytime it plays that it narrowly misses my birthday. Man, how cool would it be to have that song coincide with your birthday? I have these thoughts EVERYTIME the song comes on. It kind of ruins it. Just a little.
That is so, so beside my point.
Today I headed over to the doctor for a little check up. My roommate Scott has an awesome doctor situated over by the JingSong subway stop, a hop skip and cab ride from the GuoMao stop in CBD. I mention the GuoMao stop cause it also happens to be beside my favorite of favorite vegan restaurants in Beijing, run by my friend Li. We swung by the Vegan Cafe and nabbed some delicacies of the cruelty free persuasion.
When you pull up to this clinic, it's in the bottom floor of a building around the corner from one of the largest libraries in Beijing (a whole floor of English language books! Goody!!). Walk straight down the corridor and you hit double doors leading into a very herb-y smelling waiting room. The lovely bit about this particular doctor is that his English is very good, and the clinic serves the Japanese speaking community as well as the Chinese and English. My particular visit was comprised of two main sections- first diagnosis and then treatment. I went into a cool back room where my doctor first asked some preliminary questions- medical history, whyd you come in today, hows your diet, any appendages burst into flame lately, etc etc. Then, to continue the diagnosis section of our visit, i had my tongue examined and lay (lied? layed?) down on a low examining table from which position the doctor took my pulse, felt my glands, and felt various assorted important places on my stomache and calves. Then he did a very interested and at this point unexplained chain reaction type thing where he had an assistant hold my hand while he grasped the arm of the assistant, and (supposedly) at some unintentional change in my hand her arm would twitch and then his arm would jump. i really have no idea what this was about. i need to ask.
maybe she just wanted to hold my hand.
anyway. this was the end of my diagnosis section. at this point i was handed over to the herbalist (the doctor who did my diagnosis was a muscoskeletal specialist), who was briefed by my other doctor and did her own short diagnosis using the meridian points in my hands a feet. Chinese Medicine is concerned, in large part, with the energies flowing through your body. Meridians are the main channels that these energies flow through, and main Meridian channels cane be found in your hands a feet. The way a Meridian check goes is, you supply your hands and feet (one at a time)to the doctor, who uses and electrical gauge (which is slowly pressed into each meridian's main point) to see how strong or weak the electrical charge is coming out of each point. This machine is hooked up to the computer which registers the electrical reactions as figures that then relate to your physical wellness (or illness) and even your family's medical history.
What, you want to know what mine said? Sigh. Well, she identified that my family has a history of hormone problems (such things as breast cancer, uterine cancer, etc), which is true of not only me, but i also think of most women at this point in time. The diagnosis also identified energy deficiency that relate to organs i've had trouble with in the past, and a few choice tidbits that I didn't entirely agree with. Apparently I have emotional problems. I'm really not sure I trust that particular diagnosis farther than I could throw the machine. Anyway.
After these things, she started treatments. this included but was not limited to some slight acupuncture and a little moxibustion. i'm sure most of us are familiar with acupuncture, but moxibustion is where small herbal compresses that very much resemble mini marshmellows are lit on fire and placed on the end of your acupuncture needles. you will feel like some kind of flesh/herb/steel specialty dessert while this occurs. the smoke from the herbs affects the energies that are being furthered stimulated by the needles, and also fills the room in some kind of smoke tastic cleansing type lung related thing.
I also got a bag full of herbs to be prepared as a tea every morning and taken morning and night for the next week. then i go back next week.
hopefully i'll be in beijing, but i think i'll probably be in shanghai. sigh.
any questions?
love you all,
jessie
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Le Home.
I wrote the following entry while sitting in my room, chilling out to the grooving sounds of pre-molestation charges michael jackson. here it is for your viewing pleasure:
Well, whats been going on lately? A whole lot. Theres been a lot of travel, a lot of sickness, and a whole lot of positivity to round the whole lot out. Was in Shanghai for about a week, before that (if we recall) was Guangzhou. Now I’m back in lovely lovely Beijing until Sunday. I really wish I could stay longer. It's starting to warm up and the Hutong is turning absolutely lovely. Not that it wasn’t lovely to begin with, but now I can walk around without my face freezing, peeling off, and shattering on the floor within moments of stepping into the courtyard. it’s a rather pleasant change.
Whats it like around the hutong? Well…
In addition to the weather, my roommates are extremely lovely. I’m very blessed to live with extremely good friends who are sweet, considerate, intelligent, and challenging. Scottie, my Australian roomie, is a musician (saxophone, drums, kazoo, young lady’s heartstrings), and a fabulously intelligent motivated guy. He’s our resident tai qi master, having just started the intermediate courses from the world famous masters at Bei Hai Park. He’s been studying for just over a year now, and is getting the whole hutong on the bandwagon. And he’s on a wicked health binge with no drinking and no animal products- yay! It’s nice to have someone else around who is not into drinking, and even nicer to have another resident vegan. I love living with vegans. Ohad, my Israeli roomie, is as sweet as sweet can be, and is slowly being convinced to go vegan! Slowly but surely, he’s making the change, and turning his formidable culinary skills to the task. This man has given me some seriously amazing Israeli rock and folk music, not to mention pleased my belly with some insane veganized Israeli grub. I’m just waiting for the day that we turn into a crazy vegan cook-tastic tai qi household- it’s going to be beautiful.
In terms of the hutong itself, it’s set off from the incredibly major and busy DongZhiMen Street, tucked back in the winding myriad alleyways that Beijingers traditionally live in. It’s about a ten minute walk from the street through alleyways that house other similar courtyard homes and various assorted open air markets and small (think really small. now cut that in half, and stick in your pocket.) restaurants. The hustle and bustle of the Hutong has an extremely different feel from that of the rest of the city. It’s a neighborhood, it’s small, intimate and for the most part peaceful. The hutongs are one of the very few places in the city that you can’t hear the honk of car horns, where neon advertisement’s don’t dog your every step, and where you forget for a while that you’re in the capital of an extremely populous and consumer driven country. One of the nicest things about the hutong is that every building is one story- you can see the sky and the leaves in the trees and the sun and the moon every step home.
Have I sung the Hutong’s praises long enough? I could go on for a while, but I think you get the picture. The thing is, the city’s Hutong’s are disappearing fast. They are being torn down to build new developments, high rises and shops and streamlined apartments. A few, maybe 40 or 50 of the city’s thousands, are bound (in my opinion) to be saved, gutted and renovated, for rent to foreigners and rich beijingers in the future. Hutongs are traditionally passed down through the generations, so for a lot of Beijingers this means losing a large piece of their family culture, and it means the dissaperance of neighborhoods that are rife with life and lore.
It’s not cool, and I’m extremely thankful that I’m getting to experience the hutong lifestyle before it disappears. I wake up, look out my ground story room window at the leaves in the trees, walk out my door across the open courtyard, and make my way across a few alleys to the market. It’s just so lovely, and such a rare mode of life in modern day beijing. I'm extremely grateful to live on the ground and shop at a local un-plastic laden open air market. Sigh. So lucky.
Peace
Jessie
Well, whats been going on lately? A whole lot. Theres been a lot of travel, a lot of sickness, and a whole lot of positivity to round the whole lot out. Was in Shanghai for about a week, before that (if we recall) was Guangzhou. Now I’m back in lovely lovely Beijing until Sunday. I really wish I could stay longer. It's starting to warm up and the Hutong is turning absolutely lovely. Not that it wasn’t lovely to begin with, but now I can walk around without my face freezing, peeling off, and shattering on the floor within moments of stepping into the courtyard. it’s a rather pleasant change.
Whats it like around the hutong? Well…
In addition to the weather, my roommates are extremely lovely. I’m very blessed to live with extremely good friends who are sweet, considerate, intelligent, and challenging. Scottie, my Australian roomie, is a musician (saxophone, drums, kazoo, young lady’s heartstrings), and a fabulously intelligent motivated guy. He’s our resident tai qi master, having just started the intermediate courses from the world famous masters at Bei Hai Park. He’s been studying for just over a year now, and is getting the whole hutong on the bandwagon. And he’s on a wicked health binge with no drinking and no animal products- yay! It’s nice to have someone else around who is not into drinking, and even nicer to have another resident vegan. I love living with vegans. Ohad, my Israeli roomie, is as sweet as sweet can be, and is slowly being convinced to go vegan! Slowly but surely, he’s making the change, and turning his formidable culinary skills to the task. This man has given me some seriously amazing Israeli rock and folk music, not to mention pleased my belly with some insane veganized Israeli grub. I’m just waiting for the day that we turn into a crazy vegan cook-tastic tai qi household- it’s going to be beautiful.
In terms of the hutong itself, it’s set off from the incredibly major and busy DongZhiMen Street, tucked back in the winding myriad alleyways that Beijingers traditionally live in. It’s about a ten minute walk from the street through alleyways that house other similar courtyard homes and various assorted open air markets and small (think really small. now cut that in half, and stick in your pocket.) restaurants. The hustle and bustle of the Hutong has an extremely different feel from that of the rest of the city. It’s a neighborhood, it’s small, intimate and for the most part peaceful. The hutongs are one of the very few places in the city that you can’t hear the honk of car horns, where neon advertisement’s don’t dog your every step, and where you forget for a while that you’re in the capital of an extremely populous and consumer driven country. One of the nicest things about the hutong is that every building is one story- you can see the sky and the leaves in the trees and the sun and the moon every step home.
Have I sung the Hutong’s praises long enough? I could go on for a while, but I think you get the picture. The thing is, the city’s Hutong’s are disappearing fast. They are being torn down to build new developments, high rises and shops and streamlined apartments. A few, maybe 40 or 50 of the city’s thousands, are bound (in my opinion) to be saved, gutted and renovated, for rent to foreigners and rich beijingers in the future. Hutongs are traditionally passed down through the generations, so for a lot of Beijingers this means losing a large piece of their family culture, and it means the dissaperance of neighborhoods that are rife with life and lore.
It’s not cool, and I’m extremely thankful that I’m getting to experience the hutong lifestyle before it disappears. I wake up, look out my ground story room window at the leaves in the trees, walk out my door across the open courtyard, and make my way across a few alleys to the market. It’s just so lovely, and such a rare mode of life in modern day beijing. I'm extremely grateful to live on the ground and shop at a local un-plastic laden open air market. Sigh. So lucky.
Peace
Jessie
Monday, March 9, 2009
Walking
Home today, I bought a shirt.
I had to.
It says, in huge block letters,
RABBITS
DONT EAT
SAUSAGE
<3
I had to.
It says, in huge block letters,
RABBITS
DONT EAT
SAUSAGE
<3
Monday, March 2, 2009
Yes Indeed.
Durian, sweet succulent Durian, how do i love thee?
Apparently enough to buy two of you in one day- and finish both.
Also, in other news, this morning before we jetted away from Guangzhou (tears! resentment! damn you, shanghai...) I found a market even more grand and amazing than all of the other ones I had found combined. It started out the way most of my market discoveries start. I saw an old chinese lady with a bundle of vegetables walking down the road- there! theres another one. Pretty soon, as long as you keep following the red plastic bags filled with vegetables, hunks of meat, and eggs, you find yourself in a neighborhood market.
Man, this one was epic. But I can't start to describe it, or give you my pictures. know why? I'm on the verge of sick, its late, and i want to get some sleep.
What i will do, after all the build up (oh, aren't I a tease of an blogger?) Is open up what from here on out will be a feature on Le blog. Music really gets to me, and lately I've been hearing a lot of songs that give me visceral memories. I'm a classic example of an auditory learner, something that i think ties into my extremely strong associations of times, people, and events with particular songs. I mean, I know that we all tie songs to times in our lives, but I get it bad. Like, can't listen to albums for years kind of bad. Not like, one album once in a while needs to be retired. It seems like every month I'm crossing off a few more albums I just can't, for painful nostalgia's sake, listen to. It's very inconvenient.
This having been said, since I'm being reminded so often lately, I'm going to attempt to exorcise some of these memories. I'll be putting up a little blurb and the music video for some of these. You guys can tell me if you like it. Theyll be short, and vague. So typical, eh?
All Falls Down
Kanye West, Lauren Hill
I’m in your car, and we’re driving through the cool Hawaiian air. I think it’s the H-1? The lights are blurring together cause my eyes are half open, too comfortable for complete lucidity. We’re both muttering the words to the rap, actions heavy with familiarity and repetition. The air on my skin is cool, coats me with a fine sheen of chill against the heavy warmth that’s been baked lately, by long hours landscaping, into my being. The evening air, as it always does, sings thick with promise. I push your hand.
Odd the things that stick within sensory memories.
Apparently enough to buy two of you in one day- and finish both.
Also, in other news, this morning before we jetted away from Guangzhou (tears! resentment! damn you, shanghai...) I found a market even more grand and amazing than all of the other ones I had found combined. It started out the way most of my market discoveries start. I saw an old chinese lady with a bundle of vegetables walking down the road- there! theres another one. Pretty soon, as long as you keep following the red plastic bags filled with vegetables, hunks of meat, and eggs, you find yourself in a neighborhood market.
Man, this one was epic. But I can't start to describe it, or give you my pictures. know why? I'm on the verge of sick, its late, and i want to get some sleep.
What i will do, after all the build up (oh, aren't I a tease of an blogger?) Is open up what from here on out will be a feature on Le blog. Music really gets to me, and lately I've been hearing a lot of songs that give me visceral memories. I'm a classic example of an auditory learner, something that i think ties into my extremely strong associations of times, people, and events with particular songs. I mean, I know that we all tie songs to times in our lives, but I get it bad. Like, can't listen to albums for years kind of bad. Not like, one album once in a while needs to be retired. It seems like every month I'm crossing off a few more albums I just can't, for painful nostalgia's sake, listen to. It's very inconvenient.
This having been said, since I'm being reminded so often lately, I'm going to attempt to exorcise some of these memories. I'll be putting up a little blurb and the music video for some of these. You guys can tell me if you like it. Theyll be short, and vague. So typical, eh?
All Falls Down
Kanye West, Lauren Hill
I’m in your car, and we’re driving through the cool Hawaiian air. I think it’s the H-1? The lights are blurring together cause my eyes are half open, too comfortable for complete lucidity. We’re both muttering the words to the rap, actions heavy with familiarity and repetition. The air on my skin is cool, coats me with a fine sheen of chill against the heavy warmth that’s been baked lately, by long hours landscaping, into my being. The evening air, as it always does, sings thick with promise. I push your hand.
Odd the things that stick within sensory memories.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Oh yes.
Who’s the nigger with the fastest trigger?
Shaft.
It’s a lovely evening in Guangzhou, the air crisp and chill, the music in my ear of the Isaac Hayes variety, the surroundings gracing my presence of the silly-commercial-face-wash-photo-shoot genre.
Actually, in all honesty, I dig this studio. It’s much more swank than the others I’ve been in recently- bamboo floors, nice sound system, bookcases full of photography books. Not to imply that the lovely system is being used to bump Isaac Hayes- that’s all coming to me straight from my lovely lover of a laptop. Yay for the foresight to tell which days will present opportunities that make lugging the laptop worth it.
We’ve been the last week or so in Guangzhou, which is my favorite favorite of Chinese cities. The air is heavy and damp, warm like the air back home. The streets are lined with banyan trees and the markets are superb. Did I mention the Durians yet? Cause I’ve bought one for each day I’ve been here. And the coconuts…ohh fruit, how you do send me into fits of absolute delight. Creamy, custardy, fetid fecundity…how anyone can cringe at a Durian I do not understand. Few things make me as unfailingly pleased as fresh ripe fruit. Not to mention fresh, ripe vegetables. Let’s not even get started on fresh, ripe people.
Though, all jokes aside, as I was eating my Durian today I started to ponder one of those Durian or sex kind of questions. The thing I like most about fruit is, it loves me without expecting anything in return. Maybe I shouldn’t be revealing that there was even a contest between sex and eating fresh fruit. Maybe that’s just a little too far off the deep end…
Enough of that…what is Guangzhou all about? Well, it’s in Guangdong, which is where pretty much everything you buy that has a little ‘Made in China’ stamp somewhere on it is made. It’s also where most commercials, tv shows, and print ads are shot. As a result of these two insidious characteristics, everything in Guangzhou is simultaneously for sale and on sale. However, in contrast to Hong Kong, this does not lend to Guangzhou a commoditized, cloying air of consumerism. I think it’s because of all the trees. Or the fresh fruit stands. Everywhere. Whatever it is, I’ve been able to prance around this city non-stop for the last week and feel quite fulfilled. Shoots, both commercial and print, mean lots of time to amuse myself, which means hours of uninterrupted exploring. I’ve come across winding, wide banyan covered boulevards and cramped narrow alleyways lined with glowing over spilling shops. These two things within walking distance of each other cinch the contest of Jessie’s favorite city.
I think the alleys amaze me most. They wind deep into residential neighborhoods, tiny and cramped, and along their seemingly endless length are lined with all manner of fruit, spice, electronic, and odds/ends stands. They bustle and overflow with throngs that clearly walk these particular cobble stones daily, live a stones throw away, and are about their regular business. Buildings loom 5 to 6 stories on either side, wide windows thrown open tempting a breeze of the thick air. It’s just so inviting and luscious. Full of life. Full of movement. Fresh and unfettered.
As for the markets, well, you’ll find things in Guangzhou markets that you’ll be hardpressed to find anywhere else in china. I mean, I was under the mistaken impression that I had been to well stocked markets in Beijing and Shanghai, but I think no Chinese open air market connosieur can even call themselves such until they’ve stepped foot inside one of Guangzhou’s many amazing specimens. I’m talking fresh coconuts to fresh alligator to scotch bonnets to sour sap fruit to cured dog to purple kale to traditional Chinese medicinal cupping done with hand carved bamboo cups and a tea foot bath while you’re waiting for the rest of your party to finish up purchases for dinner. Word life.
I’m now listening to Balkan Gyspy Beats on my laptop while the little lady is showcasing herself in a red shift dress and unfurling a Chinese New Year scroll. Such is life.
Jessie
Ps. I find well toned arms are alluring.
Shaft.
It’s a lovely evening in Guangzhou, the air crisp and chill, the music in my ear of the Isaac Hayes variety, the surroundings gracing my presence of the silly-commercial-face-wash-photo-shoot genre.
Actually, in all honesty, I dig this studio. It’s much more swank than the others I’ve been in recently- bamboo floors, nice sound system, bookcases full of photography books. Not to imply that the lovely system is being used to bump Isaac Hayes- that’s all coming to me straight from my lovely lover of a laptop. Yay for the foresight to tell which days will present opportunities that make lugging the laptop worth it.
We’ve been the last week or so in Guangzhou, which is my favorite favorite of Chinese cities. The air is heavy and damp, warm like the air back home. The streets are lined with banyan trees and the markets are superb. Did I mention the Durians yet? Cause I’ve bought one for each day I’ve been here. And the coconuts…ohh fruit, how you do send me into fits of absolute delight. Creamy, custardy, fetid fecundity…how anyone can cringe at a Durian I do not understand. Few things make me as unfailingly pleased as fresh ripe fruit. Not to mention fresh, ripe vegetables. Let’s not even get started on fresh, ripe people.
Though, all jokes aside, as I was eating my Durian today I started to ponder one of those Durian or sex kind of questions. The thing I like most about fruit is, it loves me without expecting anything in return. Maybe I shouldn’t be revealing that there was even a contest between sex and eating fresh fruit. Maybe that’s just a little too far off the deep end…
Enough of that…what is Guangzhou all about? Well, it’s in Guangdong, which is where pretty much everything you buy that has a little ‘Made in China’ stamp somewhere on it is made. It’s also where most commercials, tv shows, and print ads are shot. As a result of these two insidious characteristics, everything in Guangzhou is simultaneously for sale and on sale. However, in contrast to Hong Kong, this does not lend to Guangzhou a commoditized, cloying air of consumerism. I think it’s because of all the trees. Or the fresh fruit stands. Everywhere. Whatever it is, I’ve been able to prance around this city non-stop for the last week and feel quite fulfilled. Shoots, both commercial and print, mean lots of time to amuse myself, which means hours of uninterrupted exploring. I’ve come across winding, wide banyan covered boulevards and cramped narrow alleyways lined with glowing over spilling shops. These two things within walking distance of each other cinch the contest of Jessie’s favorite city.
I think the alleys amaze me most. They wind deep into residential neighborhoods, tiny and cramped, and along their seemingly endless length are lined with all manner of fruit, spice, electronic, and odds/ends stands. They bustle and overflow with throngs that clearly walk these particular cobble stones daily, live a stones throw away, and are about their regular business. Buildings loom 5 to 6 stories on either side, wide windows thrown open tempting a breeze of the thick air. It’s just so inviting and luscious. Full of life. Full of movement. Fresh and unfettered.
As for the markets, well, you’ll find things in Guangzhou markets that you’ll be hardpressed to find anywhere else in china. I mean, I was under the mistaken impression that I had been to well stocked markets in Beijing and Shanghai, but I think no Chinese open air market connosieur can even call themselves such until they’ve stepped foot inside one of Guangzhou’s many amazing specimens. I’m talking fresh coconuts to fresh alligator to scotch bonnets to sour sap fruit to cured dog to purple kale to traditional Chinese medicinal cupping done with hand carved bamboo cups and a tea foot bath while you’re waiting for the rest of your party to finish up purchases for dinner. Word life.
I’m now listening to Balkan Gyspy Beats on my laptop while the little lady is showcasing herself in a red shift dress and unfurling a Chinese New Year scroll. Such is life.
Jessie
Ps. I find well toned arms are alluring.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Sigh.
11:55pm, Guangzhou, PRC.
In the hotel room that i split with my student's assistant, I'm on the computer playing a song that is nothing short of a chunk of my high school nights grilled to perfection, sitting on a plate in front of me and wafting nostalgic fumes into my face. Hearing the song, she starts a conversation. It goes like this:
"You Happy?"
"Happy? No."
"Homesick? What do you miss?"
"Home. Lover. My Life."
"What can you do?"
"Nothing. Go home."
"My homesickness is worse than yours. I have no freedom."
"..."
The worst part is, it's true. She doesnt. I can up and go at any time if things get too bad and I know i can afford a plane ticket home and still have a cushion of seed money to start over. I can't bitch about anything, because the minute i start i need to pause and remember- homegirl who works more hours doing more stuff than i do makes a tenth of my paycheck. A tenth, not exaggerating at all. And she makes double what everyone else working around me makes. This is not something that I am proud of, or that I agree with. There are a lot of things that I want to say about those two salary related facts, but theyre all going to wait till next time.
Cause Jessie is Le Tired. Sorry for the lack of analysis and comment, the mini-conversation just struck me so deeply that I felt the need to share it.
Love you
Jess
In the hotel room that i split with my student's assistant, I'm on the computer playing a song that is nothing short of a chunk of my high school nights grilled to perfection, sitting on a plate in front of me and wafting nostalgic fumes into my face. Hearing the song, she starts a conversation. It goes like this:
"You Happy?"
"Happy? No."
"Homesick? What do you miss?"
"Home. Lover. My Life."
"What can you do?"
"Nothing. Go home."
"My homesickness is worse than yours. I have no freedom."
"..."
The worst part is, it's true. She doesnt. I can up and go at any time if things get too bad and I know i can afford a plane ticket home and still have a cushion of seed money to start over. I can't bitch about anything, because the minute i start i need to pause and remember- homegirl who works more hours doing more stuff than i do makes a tenth of my paycheck. A tenth, not exaggerating at all. And she makes double what everyone else working around me makes. This is not something that I am proud of, or that I agree with. There are a lot of things that I want to say about those two salary related facts, but theyre all going to wait till next time.
Cause Jessie is Le Tired. Sorry for the lack of analysis and comment, the mini-conversation just struck me so deeply that I felt the need to share it.
Love you
Jess
mmm.
hey all.
just a big fat piece of LOVE for all you in readership land.
THIS BIG.
give you talks of substance later, promise!
J
just a big fat piece of LOVE for all you in readership land.
THIS BIG.
give you talks of substance later, promise!
J
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Silence
It snowed this morning. So much for spring, and warmth.
I've just gotten to work (at 2 in the afternoon), and am sitting in the dining room of my students house browsing the internet in blessed solitude. The rest of the entourage is still sleeping- from the devastation of clothing, accessories, paperwork and shoes that is currently reigning unchallenged in the rest of the apartment I can only assume that everyone was up until all hours packing. Today we're leaving for a 3 month stint in Shanghai. I can only imagine what a movie star needs to tide herself over for three months away from her walk-in closet and floor to ceiling makeup cabinet. I mean, i've seen the mammoth suitcase that harbors 2 week's worth of necessities and as such i shudder to consider the planning, sorting, and stuffing that comprises preparations for a 3 month sojourn. poor assitants.
anyway, what i'm really trying to get at, what i'd like to give you a glimpse of through the haze of my cyclical musings and convoluted syntax, is how nice some moments of my day are. walking into the apartment at 2 in the afternoon and finding not a bustling scene of assitants, secretaries, and cooks, but rather the thick cottony hush that falls over a space when bodies still within it. On a day like this I will usually walk to the kitchen, brew a mug of warm tea and curl up on the couch with my latest novel- today i'm trading that novel for the novelty and letting you all in on one of the mercifully peaceful moments that occaisionally, unexpectedly, grace my schedule.
So here I sit, the new atmosphere album in my ear buds and a glowing little monitor in my face. Below is what i'm listening to right right now. It reminds of the problems that riddle an alarmingly large percent of the population of the most prosperous nation on the planet. it's what i'm playing at the moment and if you want to play it too, you can.
love you guys
jess
I've just gotten to work (at 2 in the afternoon), and am sitting in the dining room of my students house browsing the internet in blessed solitude. The rest of the entourage is still sleeping- from the devastation of clothing, accessories, paperwork and shoes that is currently reigning unchallenged in the rest of the apartment I can only assume that everyone was up until all hours packing. Today we're leaving for a 3 month stint in Shanghai. I can only imagine what a movie star needs to tide herself over for three months away from her walk-in closet and floor to ceiling makeup cabinet. I mean, i've seen the mammoth suitcase that harbors 2 week's worth of necessities and as such i shudder to consider the planning, sorting, and stuffing that comprises preparations for a 3 month sojourn. poor assitants.
anyway, what i'm really trying to get at, what i'd like to give you a glimpse of through the haze of my cyclical musings and convoluted syntax, is how nice some moments of my day are. walking into the apartment at 2 in the afternoon and finding not a bustling scene of assitants, secretaries, and cooks, but rather the thick cottony hush that falls over a space when bodies still within it. On a day like this I will usually walk to the kitchen, brew a mug of warm tea and curl up on the couch with my latest novel- today i'm trading that novel for the novelty and letting you all in on one of the mercifully peaceful moments that occaisionally, unexpectedly, grace my schedule.
So here I sit, the new atmosphere album in my ear buds and a glowing little monitor in my face. Below is what i'm listening to right right now. It reminds of the problems that riddle an alarmingly large percent of the population of the most prosperous nation on the planet. it's what i'm playing at the moment and if you want to play it too, you can.
love you guys
jess
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Oh my.
Welcome all my friends, to that show that never ends.
We're so glad you could attend, come inside come inside.
The move to Shanghai will be occuring this Sunday. Forgive me for being so, well, scarce of late. Internet connections in the hutong have been, in a word, nonexistant.
But I love you all and when i have time i'll update some more.
J
We're so glad you could attend, come inside come inside.
The move to Shanghai will be occuring this Sunday. Forgive me for being so, well, scarce of late. Internet connections in the hutong have been, in a word, nonexistant.
But I love you all and when i have time i'll update some more.
J
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Here.
I made it to Hong Kong! First city I've been in where I don't speak a word of the primary language. Given, everyone here speaks mandarin and english in addition to Cantonese, but it's still pretty cool to me.
Let's take a look at how i got here. Right now Spring Festival is still going on in China (the two weeks after Chinese New Year are included in Spring Festival, and are the biggest travel days in China), so plane tickets and bus tickets are quite pricey. Even though I had the advantage of being in Southern as opposed to Northern China (helpful when heading South to Hong Kong), plane tickets were still far too expensive. I'll cut through the 5 or so hours of irritated phone calls back and forth to different airline companies, and the different solutions that seemed like godsends but really fell through, and cut to what worked out in the end. So as I've mentioned, I've been in rural rural Southern China shooting, equidistant from two larger cities (equidistant being a four hour drive from both Guilin and Nanning). Luckily for me, one of the women on the shoot has an auntie in Nanning and, overhearing our conversation, told me there is a, GASP, overnight bus from Nanning to HongKong. Thank god. I got on the phone, booked a ticket, and shelpped myself out of bed on Tuesday morning to hitch a ride with some producers heading that way for a meeting. So, after two days of back to back 18 hour shooting I subjected myself to a 4 hour ride from 8-12, sat in a coffee shop from 1-7, and then sat on a bus from 8pm to 9am. Needless to say, I'm tired.
Whats Hong Kong like? Well, it's certainly interesting. The drive in over the bridge is absolutely stunning, high flying bridge over shining water descending into a shiny toy city. The streets here are the kind you see in old movies, cramped and winding and covered in neon street signs that obscure the sky above. I would love to have time to explore it, but I don't think I'm going to- work beckons.
Well, it's getting chilly and I have to pee so i'm going to go and find somewhere to eat, and, hopefully, pee.
Love
Jessie
Let's take a look at how i got here. Right now Spring Festival is still going on in China (the two weeks after Chinese New Year are included in Spring Festival, and are the biggest travel days in China), so plane tickets and bus tickets are quite pricey. Even though I had the advantage of being in Southern as opposed to Northern China (helpful when heading South to Hong Kong), plane tickets were still far too expensive. I'll cut through the 5 or so hours of irritated phone calls back and forth to different airline companies, and the different solutions that seemed like godsends but really fell through, and cut to what worked out in the end. So as I've mentioned, I've been in rural rural Southern China shooting, equidistant from two larger cities (equidistant being a four hour drive from both Guilin and Nanning). Luckily for me, one of the women on the shoot has an auntie in Nanning and, overhearing our conversation, told me there is a, GASP, overnight bus from Nanning to HongKong. Thank god. I got on the phone, booked a ticket, and shelpped myself out of bed on Tuesday morning to hitch a ride with some producers heading that way for a meeting. So, after two days of back to back 18 hour shooting I subjected myself to a 4 hour ride from 8-12, sat in a coffee shop from 1-7, and then sat on a bus from 8pm to 9am. Needless to say, I'm tired.
Whats Hong Kong like? Well, it's certainly interesting. The drive in over the bridge is absolutely stunning, high flying bridge over shining water descending into a shiny toy city. The streets here are the kind you see in old movies, cramped and winding and covered in neon street signs that obscure the sky above. I would love to have time to explore it, but I don't think I'm going to- work beckons.
Well, it's getting chilly and I have to pee so i'm going to go and find somewhere to eat, and, hopefully, pee.
Love
Jessie
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Well isn't this a long post?
Sometimes my world travel exploration is really nothing more than sitting in a coffee shop in a new city, ordering a pot of tea and a plate of fries, and hanging out with my laptop. Really what I'm doing right now i could be doing from any city (well, any city with internet, tea, and fries)and indeed is something that i've done in most cities i've visited. So where is all the exlporation? Is it really travel if i stay within the confines of a familiar bubble, and upon moving, simple pick up the entire thing and shift it?
Ok ok, in all fairness i rarely do what i'm doing right now and the only reason I'm indulging is that I'm only in this city for about 8 hours, I have a heavy bag, and I need to stay in the vicinity of the bus station. But still, these ideas are something to consider, and things that I do often.
I've been thinking a lot about travelling and learning, exploring and discovering and what it all means. Right before i left Hawaii this last time i began to flirt with the ideas of exploring and travelling at home, delving deeper into the essences of everyday events as opposed to seeking the (sometimes) superficial knowledge of 'exciting' 'exotic' things. To say it another way, I've been contemplating the differences between knowing a lot about a little instead of a little about a lot. Now that I'm travelling more and more, indeed more than I ever thought I would, I find myself revisiting this topic more and more,and as I ponder my actions and their incentives I have been rolling three quotes over in my head. The first one is by Proust, something that lodged itself in my head incorrectly and, thanks to a conversation with a friend, i recently revisited and corrected my memory of. it goes like this:
The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes, in seeing the universe with the eyes of another, of hundreds of others, in seeing the hundreds of universes that each of them sees. -Marcel Proust
This is the first quote that I encountered along the lines re-discovering the old, and though it does not quite get to the roots of what i've been mulling over, i still think it is worth comment and it is something that I've thought about at different stages in my life. It's not only about rediscovering your daily life but also about acknowledging that we all see the world around us through certain filters, be they related to culture, age, sex, orientation, or something as simple as the differences between a right handed person's experiences and left handed person's. It is about not only becoming more familiar with your own reality but giving space to and exploring the realities of those around you. Very interesting.
The next quote also skirts around the edges of my main issue a bit, but is definately relevant to the way that i've been living my life the past few months. Those of you've that I've been talking to regularly know that in this particular branch of the tree that is my life (aha, i'm so poetic.) I've encountered something entirely foreign and rather challenging- i want to go home. I find myself pining for and lusting after a place that I've already been. Novel. For someone who has always been sniffing around the next plane ticket, it's an interesting and, blessedly, welcome change. It is a development that comes at a rather ironic and also quite challenging time, considering the fact that I've finally gotten myself into a lucrative and comfortable groove and indeed will not be returning home for a matter of months. Some of you may scoff at 'months' and advise me that it is but a blip in the saga of my far reaching life, but when a person hasnt lived in one place for more than 3 months in over two years time she begins to relate to time in different ways that most people. A month or two here or there is a very different concept in the world of Jessie than it is in the world of most people. Thusly, this interesting dilemma I find myself in is rather ironic, and though irksome and irritating, i must admit it is a predicament i find myself glad to be in. I look forward to arriving home and finally living without the constant itch of wanderlust invading my thoughts and senses. This next quote plays upon this theme,revolves around ideas of what exactly it is to use the time you have at your discretion in a truly useful manner. I know that I have been guilty of looking past the present in attempts to grasp at the future. It is something that though I am aware of, and was aware of while living in Hawaii, I find extremely difficult to stop- especially now that I feel I've found what I really truly want (to return home). I identify very strongly with this quote, and find that it is a rather good example of the way that I have not only been abusing my travel experiences recently but is also analogous to the way I misused a lot of my last respite period at home. It is from the book Siddartha, and was written as follows:
“Are you not also a seeker of the right path?”
There was a smile in Siddhartha’s old eyes as he said: “Do you call yourself a seeker, 0' venerable one, you who are already advanced in years and wear the robe of Gotama’s monks.”
“I am indeed old,” said Govinda, “but I have never ceased seeking. I will never cease seeking. That seems to be my destiny. It seems to me that you also have sought. Will you talk to me a little about it, friend?”
Siddhartha said: “What could I say to you that would be of value, except that perhaps you seek too much, that as a result of your seeking you cannot find.”
“How is that?” asked Govinda.
“When someone is seeking,” said Siddhartha, “it happens quite easily that he only sees the thing that he is seeking; that he is unable to find anything, unable to absorb anything, because he is only thinking of the thing he is seeking, because he has a goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means: to have a goal; but finding means: to be free, to be receptive, to have no goal. You, 0' worthy one, are perhaps indeed a seeker, for in striving towards your goal, you do not see many things that are under your nose.”
Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha
Very poignant, that quote. I mull over it quite a bit.
The third quote speaks directly to the concepts that have been most recently on my mind, and is by TS Eliot, a man whose writing i have never really taken the time to read. Interestingly enough, I just learned from Wikipedia that his birthday is 100 years and two days after my own. Odd. Anyway, onto the quote that I'm trying to introduce. In addition to chastising myself for wasting my time traveling being preoccupied with thoughts of home (a mirror of the time I spent at home fantasizing about travelling) I've been consdering where it is (spiritually speaking) all of this travelling is going to drop me off. I'll leave it at that for now and let you go ahead and read the quote.
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
TS (Thomas Stearns) Eliot, "Little Gidding" (from the last of his Four Quartets)
On a similar, or unrelated note (depending on how you look at it) a song that was popular when i was in high is for some reason all of the sudden all the rage in southern china. and its playing in the coffee shop over my fries, tea, and L word. Sigh.
This post was written to the strains of Move On Up by Curtis Mayfield, a song that finds itself of late on constant repeat in the life of one Jessie Marie.
Love
J
Ok ok, in all fairness i rarely do what i'm doing right now and the only reason I'm indulging is that I'm only in this city for about 8 hours, I have a heavy bag, and I need to stay in the vicinity of the bus station. But still, these ideas are something to consider, and things that I do often.
I've been thinking a lot about travelling and learning, exploring and discovering and what it all means. Right before i left Hawaii this last time i began to flirt with the ideas of exploring and travelling at home, delving deeper into the essences of everyday events as opposed to seeking the (sometimes) superficial knowledge of 'exciting' 'exotic' things. To say it another way, I've been contemplating the differences between knowing a lot about a little instead of a little about a lot. Now that I'm travelling more and more, indeed more than I ever thought I would, I find myself revisiting this topic more and more,and as I ponder my actions and their incentives I have been rolling three quotes over in my head. The first one is by Proust, something that lodged itself in my head incorrectly and, thanks to a conversation with a friend, i recently revisited and corrected my memory of. it goes like this:
The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes, in seeing the universe with the eyes of another, of hundreds of others, in seeing the hundreds of universes that each of them sees. -Marcel Proust
This is the first quote that I encountered along the lines re-discovering the old, and though it does not quite get to the roots of what i've been mulling over, i still think it is worth comment and it is something that I've thought about at different stages in my life. It's not only about rediscovering your daily life but also about acknowledging that we all see the world around us through certain filters, be they related to culture, age, sex, orientation, or something as simple as the differences between a right handed person's experiences and left handed person's. It is about not only becoming more familiar with your own reality but giving space to and exploring the realities of those around you. Very interesting.
The next quote also skirts around the edges of my main issue a bit, but is definately relevant to the way that i've been living my life the past few months. Those of you've that I've been talking to regularly know that in this particular branch of the tree that is my life (aha, i'm so poetic.) I've encountered something entirely foreign and rather challenging- i want to go home. I find myself pining for and lusting after a place that I've already been. Novel. For someone who has always been sniffing around the next plane ticket, it's an interesting and, blessedly, welcome change. It is a development that comes at a rather ironic and also quite challenging time, considering the fact that I've finally gotten myself into a lucrative and comfortable groove and indeed will not be returning home for a matter of months. Some of you may scoff at 'months' and advise me that it is but a blip in the saga of my far reaching life, but when a person hasnt lived in one place for more than 3 months in over two years time she begins to relate to time in different ways that most people. A month or two here or there is a very different concept in the world of Jessie than it is in the world of most people. Thusly, this interesting dilemma I find myself in is rather ironic, and though irksome and irritating, i must admit it is a predicament i find myself glad to be in. I look forward to arriving home and finally living without the constant itch of wanderlust invading my thoughts and senses. This next quote plays upon this theme,revolves around ideas of what exactly it is to use the time you have at your discretion in a truly useful manner. I know that I have been guilty of looking past the present in attempts to grasp at the future. It is something that though I am aware of, and was aware of while living in Hawaii, I find extremely difficult to stop- especially now that I feel I've found what I really truly want (to return home). I identify very strongly with this quote, and find that it is a rather good example of the way that I have not only been abusing my travel experiences recently but is also analogous to the way I misused a lot of my last respite period at home. It is from the book Siddartha, and was written as follows:
“Are you not also a seeker of the right path?”
There was a smile in Siddhartha’s old eyes as he said: “Do you call yourself a seeker, 0' venerable one, you who are already advanced in years and wear the robe of Gotama’s monks.”
“I am indeed old,” said Govinda, “but I have never ceased seeking. I will never cease seeking. That seems to be my destiny. It seems to me that you also have sought. Will you talk to me a little about it, friend?”
Siddhartha said: “What could I say to you that would be of value, except that perhaps you seek too much, that as a result of your seeking you cannot find.”
“How is that?” asked Govinda.
“When someone is seeking,” said Siddhartha, “it happens quite easily that he only sees the thing that he is seeking; that he is unable to find anything, unable to absorb anything, because he is only thinking of the thing he is seeking, because he has a goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means: to have a goal; but finding means: to be free, to be receptive, to have no goal. You, 0' worthy one, are perhaps indeed a seeker, for in striving towards your goal, you do not see many things that are under your nose.”
Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha
Very poignant, that quote. I mull over it quite a bit.
The third quote speaks directly to the concepts that have been most recently on my mind, and is by TS Eliot, a man whose writing i have never really taken the time to read. Interestingly enough, I just learned from Wikipedia that his birthday is 100 years and two days after my own. Odd. Anyway, onto the quote that I'm trying to introduce. In addition to chastising myself for wasting my time traveling being preoccupied with thoughts of home (a mirror of the time I spent at home fantasizing about travelling) I've been consdering where it is (spiritually speaking) all of this travelling is going to drop me off. I'll leave it at that for now and let you go ahead and read the quote.
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
TS (Thomas Stearns) Eliot, "Little Gidding" (from the last of his Four Quartets)
On a similar, or unrelated note (depending on how you look at it) a song that was popular when i was in high is for some reason all of the sudden all the rage in southern china. and its playing in the coffee shop over my fries, tea, and L word. Sigh.
This post was written to the strains of Move On Up by Curtis Mayfield, a song that finds itself of late on constant repeat in the life of one Jessie Marie.
Love
J
Monday, February 2, 2009
lovely day
So I'm sitting again in the business center of this hotel, staring out the curtains at the dreary sky and writing a small love note to all you out there in readerland.
the weather, beauteous though it may be, is apparently not condusive for shooting a movie. the fog won't lift off the mountains and the droplets won't stay in the clouds. i mean, i love it, but the film crew is less thrilled. i'm still trying to book my flight to hong kong, which is proving to be difficult. we're in a rather secluded area in southern china and apparently the only two airports with international flights are equidistant from our current location- about a three hour drive. and, with the rain, no one is sure if we're going to stay and wait it out or opt to move to the next location (a beach!) and then return here in a week or so to wrap up. so i don't know where we'll be and which airport to fly out of. but enough of my griping, cause i'm sure i'll figure it out. or, i might get kicked out of country and banned from returning for overstaying my visa. those are both options.
what else? like i said, when i get to hong kong i'll send out a few more emails and replies- with 12-18 hour days it's a little hard to drag myself to the business center to sit in front of the monitor. lately it's sleep vs. send emails, run vs. send emails, or buy fruit vs. send emails. i think you guys can all guess what wins out in most of those battles. and if you cant, you can use your collective inboxs as a clue.
unless youre my mom. she still gets emails. right mom? right.
anywho, its beautiful outside, so im going to go frolic next to the lake in the fog. fog fog. i love fog. mist! mist is better. this is mist, not fog. mmm, mist.
love
jessie
the weather, beauteous though it may be, is apparently not condusive for shooting a movie. the fog won't lift off the mountains and the droplets won't stay in the clouds. i mean, i love it, but the film crew is less thrilled. i'm still trying to book my flight to hong kong, which is proving to be difficult. we're in a rather secluded area in southern china and apparently the only two airports with international flights are equidistant from our current location- about a three hour drive. and, with the rain, no one is sure if we're going to stay and wait it out or opt to move to the next location (a beach!) and then return here in a week or so to wrap up. so i don't know where we'll be and which airport to fly out of. but enough of my griping, cause i'm sure i'll figure it out. or, i might get kicked out of country and banned from returning for overstaying my visa. those are both options.
what else? like i said, when i get to hong kong i'll send out a few more emails and replies- with 12-18 hour days it's a little hard to drag myself to the business center to sit in front of the monitor. lately it's sleep vs. send emails, run vs. send emails, or buy fruit vs. send emails. i think you guys can all guess what wins out in most of those battles. and if you cant, you can use your collective inboxs as a clue.
unless youre my mom. she still gets emails. right mom? right.
anywho, its beautiful outside, so im going to go frolic next to the lake in the fog. fog fog. i love fog. mist! mist is better. this is mist, not fog. mmm, mist.
love
jessie
Friday, January 30, 2009
yawn!
Hello All!
So, I've been very very internet-less in Southern China for the better part of the last week. The period of blog-silence that precedes that week I have no excuse for, except to say that i was reveling in being at home in Beijing and as such was loathe to surrender my time to sitting in front of the little glowing square that is my laptop monitor.
This is going to be a very short post, cause its cold in this computer room the hotel is lending me and i need to go get some sleep- running a couple miles everyday is making me love and cherish sleep in ways that, well, i never thought i could. this coming from the girl who was, as an infant, infamous for catnaps is quite the statement.
i love you all and when i hit hong kong next week i will not only post, but send emails and reply to things on facebook. imagine that!
love
jessie
So, I've been very very internet-less in Southern China for the better part of the last week. The period of blog-silence that precedes that week I have no excuse for, except to say that i was reveling in being at home in Beijing and as such was loathe to surrender my time to sitting in front of the little glowing square that is my laptop monitor.
This is going to be a very short post, cause its cold in this computer room the hotel is lending me and i need to go get some sleep- running a couple miles everyday is making me love and cherish sleep in ways that, well, i never thought i could. this coming from the girl who was, as an infant, infamous for catnaps is quite the statement.
i love you all and when i hit hong kong next week i will not only post, but send emails and reply to things on facebook. imagine that!
love
jessie
Sunday, January 25, 2009
新年快乐！
It's New years in china, there are fireworks and firecrackers everywhere.
And this is stuck in my head:
Love you guys, more posts when i'm in Southern China. I leave tomorrow!
And this is stuck in my head:
Love you guys, more posts when i'm in Southern China. I leave tomorrow!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
It's 11pm and...
Sometimes the nightsky in Beijing is red. Dull, post-apocaplyptic red. It's really rather unsettling.
Also, it's so cold here that in preparation for the vanilla ice cream i plan on making tomorrow, I put a banana outside to freeze. Outside. To freeze.
Sigh. What else is going on in this Great Big Communist Capitalist Capital?
A lot of interesting things. Spring Festival is coming (Chinese New Year, that is), and the police came by yesterday to tell us to make sure and lock up because it's the largest theivery holiday in China. Also, little stickers warning not to let off firecrackers in the hutong went up a few days ago. I'm still spending every other day ensconced in CCTV headquarters, watching all kinds of super fantastic preparations and rehearsals for Spring Festival Extravanganza (SFE), watching, that is, through the omnipresent haze of cigarette smoke. Gross.
I'm going to go curl up in bed. Sorry this is so short and lacking in real content, but i'm exhausted.
<3
jess
Monday, January 12, 2009
Ache
Today, I'm back in Beijing after oh so long spent in Southern China.
This means that I have more access to the intertubes, but also that I have more things in my schedule than work/sleep/work/sleep/work/sleep/shower. Which means I have more time to post, but less will to. Hmm.
Since I'm at the end of a second day of detoxing, I'm sleepy and a little crabby. To cut through this, I've put up some pictures for you all to look at of the Hutong and some roomies. Huzzah!
OMG PICS
lovelove
jess
This means that I have more access to the intertubes, but also that I have more things in my schedule than work/sleep/work/sleep/work/sleep/shower. Which means I have more time to post, but less will to. Hmm.
Since I'm at the end of a second day of detoxing, I'm sleepy and a little crabby. To cut through this, I've put up some pictures for you all to look at of the Hutong and some roomies. Huzzah!
OMG PICS
lovelove
jess
Friday, January 9, 2009
A little Me for some of You
I don’t usually do lists and questionnaires, but this one is more of an exercise. An exercise, at that, that I think everyone should take a little time and do. It’s taken from The Televisionary Oracle by Rob Breszny, a book that I also think everyone should read. Please? I put it up here not cause I think you care, but cause I hope you’ll do it too.
"Now it's time, beauty and truth fans, to test how receptive you are to further immersion in the Drivetime.Please answer as many of the following questions as you can. Work with ferocious intensity and/or gentle reflection. Don't push on till you're exhausted, but try to come as close to total combustion as you can.Be innocently truthful and spontaneously thoughtful, or else gratuitously sarcastic and recklessly flippant. If you find yourself responding with ideas that you used to believe but don't any more, abandon them and start over.Take advantage of this rare opportunity to be creative and authentic for no reason. Don't save yourself for "something better.""
1. What did you dream last night?I dreamt that…that I was in love with an astronaut that I was also acquaintances with, who was alive simultaneously in the 70s and the present. He helped me to hijack a shuttle and wait to send it into outer space for about half a month, so that we could expose the heresies of those in control. But I think in the end it turned out he had a lady.
2. What image or symbol represents the absolute of your desires?I’m not sure I believe in an absolute of my desires. Plus, if I did and if it had a symbol, it would be far too easy to lose.
3. In what ways has your fate been affected by invisible forces you don't understand or are barely aware of?My fate is always affected by those invisible forces. For instance, me right now sitting in this hotel room in southern china working as I do and living like I do…who knows what exactly it was that made me buy that plane ticket that Sunday in Hawaii? Something hit me, and I did it. Why did I apply to that specific ad on the Beijinger that put me in contact with the woman who happened to know about this job? Everyday I live is affected by those forces. Take today for example- I ate an unusually starchy breakfast and as a result didn’t get carsick on the drive I didn’t know we’d take into the mountains. I call that the influence of inexplicable forces. I love those forces, and I hope to sync with them in more and more luscious ways.
4. Tell a good lie.Good? I am a fire breathing snake monster of the deep come to exorcise you and me of all the insecurity that holds us back from being vigorously alive, every millisecond.
5. What were the circumstances in which you were most dangerously alive?Living with my best friend, running around in her beat up car blasting fat beats, scaring ducks all day and dancing all night.
6. Are you a good listener? If so, describe how you listen. If not, explain why not.I am a good listener- I listen sensitively, compassionately, and also rationally. I’m going to tell you precisely what I think when you’re done talking, except I won’t judge you while I do it. I realize that inside your story, there is a lesson- one for you, and one for me.
7. Compose an exciting prayer in which you ask for something you're not supposed to. I’m not supposed to ask again to go back to Beijing, but I want to! Please please please boss woman who pays me make the decision to take me back to Beijing before the 5th so I can see Sophie and treat her to dinner.
8. What's the difference between right and wrong?There isn’t one, there is only a difference in perspective.
9. Name something you've done to undo, subvert, or neutralize the Battle of the Sexes.I live everyday not as a woman, not as a man, but as myself. I reject the idea that any person needs to act anyway because they happen to have one kind of reproductive part or another in their pants. And I fall in love with people, not with characteristics, tendencies, or habits. I strive to be beautiful because I’m true, not because I’m good at disguising my faults with accessories. And I love the faults I find in others, passionately and without limit.
10. Have you ever witnessed a child being born? If so, describe how it changed you.I witnessed myself being born, does that count? I haven’t been able to pull up the memories yet though, so I can’t describe it to you at the moment.
11. Compose a beautiful blasphemy that makes you feel like crying.I’m going to take this opportunity to exercise my right to not feel like doing something, and instead peel an orange.
12. What do you do to make people like you?I used to flirt with everyone, but I’m trying to move away from that. Now I listen to people and try to think of everyone I encounter as my brother or my sister.
13. If you're not familiar with the Jungian concept of the "shadow," find out about it. If you are, good. In either case, give a description of the nature of your personal shadow.The nature of my shadow is confused and indecisive. She relies too heavily on others, and can make no decisions of her own. She only creates after regurgitating other’s work.
14. Talk about three of your most interesting personalities. Give each one a name and a power animal.A. Dolores- Dolores loves running up hills. She loves being playful and skipping down the street on every other stone- the way you did when you were a kid. Her power animal is an otter. She likes to mismatch striped patterns.Gretchen- Gretchen is a power lesbian, androgynous though leaning towards the feminine. Her power animal is a great, hulking black bear who also pirouettes through the woods like a prima ballerina.Hilda- Hilda is a witch who lives in the forest, knows exactly what is wrong with you but doesn’t really care. If you go and ask really nicely Hilda’ll put on an act to scare you and then give you exactly the herbs you need to be cured. All of Hilda’s herbs are a mixture of potent forest plants and reverse psychology. Hilda’s power animal is a tyrannosaurus rex, and Hilda prefers to be referred to as a male. The last lover to know for sure if Hilda has male bits or female bits flew away on the wind a century ago, so no one today is really knows.
15. Make up a dream in which you lose control and thereby attract a crowd of worshipers.I’m in China, on the set we’re currently shooting at. Far away into the mountains, an hours drive out of the city, next to a clear and bustling stream. One day, on set, I do precisely what it is I’ve been yearning to do for the past weeks. I shed all of my clothes and dive into the river naked, luxuriating in the icy cold purification. People on set are at first controlled by their conditioning, and horrified…then they come around and set about shedding their insecurities and hopping into the water. I never have to spend another day on set standing around, but am allowed to explore to my hearts content so long as I return at meal time.
16. Name your greatest unnecessary taboo and how you would violate it if it didn't hurt anyone.I’d be naked more of the time. If no one was plunged into inner turmoil because they’ve been conditioned by society to sexualize the body, I’d be naked around pretty much everyone I know. Unfortunately, people these days think that nakedness = some form of sexual attraction or implication, so I can’t do it around everyone with out stirring up trouble. As of right now, only my best friend, lovers, and mother are so lucky as to have a completely comfortable Jessie in their presence.
17. Give an example of how smart you are in the way you love. How smart I am doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m particularly smart, right? Cause I need to start this off by mentioning that I don’t find myself overly intelligent in that area. But I am passionate- I guess I’ll chalk that up to smartness. I’m smart enough to (most of the time) not let trivializations get in the way of how passionate I feel for anyone, even myself. And I don’t play games.
18. What ignorance do you deserve to be forgiven for? None! I’ll own all of them and their consequences. On the other hand- All. How can I be held accountable for something I didn’t know?
19. What was the pain that healed you the most?I would have to say the pain that came right before I came to China the first time…It made me face all the other pains, which were more epic in scale than that one. It spiraled me into myself and made me realize that above all, the only one that hurts me is me.
20. Make a prediction about yourself.I’m coming into myself and will not give up on any project until I’ve learned everything I need to learn or until it becomes counter productive to continue with it. I’ll learn how to say “I” so strongly that I can truly be the “I that Loves to Say I Love You”, and I’ll stop trying to get others to make my decisions for me.
***EXTRA CREDIT***In the ancient Greek epic, Odysseus and his men become stranded on an island belonging to the sorceress Circe. In a famous scene, Circe uses magic to turn the men into pigs. Later, though, in an episode that's often underemphasized by casual readers, she changes them back into men--only they're stronger, braver, and more beautiful than before they were pigs. Tell an analogous story from your own life
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