Stanley’s blogworld

Since I last wrote on my blog there has been a few events of interrest that I would like to recall.
The highlight of these recent events has to be Carrie and my holiday to Xi’an, the Shao Lin Temple and her home town Xuzhou. I have also recently discovered a fishing ground near Jiang Xin Zhou - this little island in the great Yang Tze River close to where I live is one of my favorite little hide outs.

More will follow.

Today the Olympic flame came to Nanjing. We set out at 9:45 AM and made our way to the the torch relay route. The traffic was a lot worse than normal because many of the regular routes were closed.
These last few days the city has been abuzz with the anticipation of the arrival of the Olympic flame in Nanjing. On almost every street corner you could find street merchants selling “torch relay” T-shirts or people handing out litte Beijing 2008 and Chinese flags to passers-by.

Initially we wanted to go to Gu Lou – the final destination of the Olympic flame in Nanjing.
We got into a taxi and asked the driver to take us to there, but he assured us that the traffic was way too heavy. We got out of the taxi, and I went and got my bike out of the lock up.
Everywhere the traffic was a lot heavier than usual. We quickly gave up the Gu Lou idea (or rather I did – I could sense my girlfriend wasn’t to happy with the decision at first – her friend was already waiting at a very crowded Gu Lou).
We eventually found our way to Beijing Xi Lu – one of the the roads along which the relay route ran today.
Most roads along the route were blocked of which made it perfect terrain for cyclist and pedestrians – it turned cycling was the best option on the day.

I parked the bike and then Carrie and I found a ourselves a nice little spot amongst the crowds lining up along the road.
You could sense the excitement, and the familiar chanting of “Zhong Guo Jia You, Zhong Guo Jia You (literally meaning “China, add fuel” or “China, give gas”)” in support of the relay runners, filled the air with an electric atmosphere.
First to come up the road was a big tour bus. It stopped right in front of where we stood, and out jumped the next relay runner that was to carry the flame further on the route. She waited to have the flame passed on to her right in front of where we were – it turned out we had front row seats to this particular leg of the relay.
Later a few of the sponsors’ busses passed by, and then finally the moment we had been waiting for had arrived.
The torch runner came running up the road with the Olympic flame! What a grand moment it was. He stopped in front of us and used his torch to light the torch of the next runner, who had been waiting with us for his arrival, with the flame of his torch.

The passing of the Olympic flame was all over in less than a minute, but I am sure I will remember that moment forever – for me it was a special moment, being here in China and greeting the arrival of the Games.
It (the Olympic flame) has so much symbolic meaning to it and I don’t care to say that I buy straight into all of it.
First of all as a sports fan I appreciate what the Olympic games has to offer, but for me the Olympic ideal is also symbolic of a greater ideal to (live) higher, further and faster – in other words to live to its fullest and in harmony with all.

I am looking forward to 8 August 2008. I am glad at how things turned out for us to make this experience possible. It turned out that Gu Lou was extremely crowded and in the end Carrie’s friend, Nancy, unfortunately for her, didn’t get to see anything of the torch relay. We were just very lucky.

Yesterday evening I watched The Bucket List, starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman.
The movie is about two very ill elderly men who share the same hospital room and both find out that they only have a short time left to live. The bad news stirs the two men into action and together they decide to live out their unfulfilled dreams.

Their “bucket list” – the list of things they want to do before they “kick the bucket” - includes a few adventurous activities like skydiving and visiting Chomolangma (also known as Mount Everest to most westerners).
In the end their fun-filled adventures not only allow them to enjoy the last bit of their lives to the full, but also help them to remember what the most important things in life are.

I related to the movie in many different ways - I don’t know when I will one day “kick the bucket”, but I can say that I have been working towards fulfilling my dreams.
Having come to China, to teach English and travel (and ultimately live), has been a great occasion in my life – regularly I remind myself how truly blessed I am to be able to live my dream.

Of course I wasn’t always “living my dream”, but my dreams and hopes has sustained me through out my life. I love sayings like “If you can dream it, you can do it” and “Anything is possible”. Like Morgan Freeman’s character in The Bucket List, I believe faith will get me there.
We all have, or should have, dreams we hope to realize one day – and while we are alive we have to keep on dreaming. At the same time, if we are really lucky, we will also find out what the things are that are really important in life.

So, do you have a “bucket list”? What are some of those “unattainable” dreams you are trying to realize?
One of mine is to learn Mandarin Chinese. With faith I believe anything is possible.
I have just decided that it is time to hit my books again for the next hour or so - it is study time!

This morning I looked in my old passport to check when, on which date, I arrived in China for the first time. I knew the three year mark was coming up – the time period that I have been living here for now.
My old pasport has both a Hong Kong and Xi’an immagration stamps, dated 12 May 2005 – the date of my arrival in this country.

This coincidentally is also the same date that the massive 7.8 earthquake occurred on – 12 May 2008, on Monday afternoon.
As I am writing my thoughts here thoudands of people in Sichuan Province are still trapped in the rubble of collapsed buildings caused by the shaking earth. Rescue workers are relentlessly trying to save those that are still alive. It is already clear that the rescue and clean up process is going to take a very long time.

Literally almost all people, all over China, experienced the earth tremors caused by the earthquake. Even here in Nanjing – almost 2000 km away – in the high rises, people had to flee outside because of the violent shaking.
It has made the whole experience all the more real for everyone. Every morning I wake up and remember the recent events is like waking up from a bad nightmare – but I can only imagine what it must be like for those who got caught up in the disaster areas. You can’t help but sympathise with those in trouble, especially when you consider that circumstances could easily have been reversed.
Everyone is following the events on television and are making blood, material and monetary donations.

This has been a terribly eventful year in China so far.
On our (Carrie and me) arrival in Nanjing, in January, it started to snow and continued so that in the end it turned it be the coldest winter in decades. Other areas were worse hit and many lost their lives in the process.
Then there was the violent riots in Tibet and the contreversy caused by demonstrators as the Olympic torch relay made it’s way across the globe in foreign countries.
Not to long ago there was also a quarintine imposed in a local district in Anhui Province, our neighbouring province, to control an outbreak of the Head-Mouth-and-Foot disease that broke out amongst small children last month.

It has to be mentioned that the Chinese people and authorities has shown great unity and determination in overcoming these difficulties. I have a lot of admirance for the way the Chinese people has shown their solidarity during very trying circumstances – in fact all these events has only strengthened the resolve of a nation under siege – the human fighting spirit prevails.

At the closing ceremony of the last Olympic Games I watched on TV as the Greek Olympic Comitee handed over the Olympic flag to the Beijing party. It was followed by a spectacular coriograhped show of dancing and acrobatics by Chinese artists.
This awakened in me the dream to visit China – a dream that I can thankfully say I am now living.
At the time I decided to make it my goal to experience the Beijing Olympic games and that time is approaching very fast.
Being a long distance runner myself, I hope to be in the streets of Beijing on the final day of the Games when the men’s marathon is taking place. I want to be one of the thousands cheering on the runners.
In the meantime I have had many-many rich experience here in China – I will probably try and write a book about it some day – I enjoy sharing some of those experiences here on this blog.

Probably the greatest thing that has happened to me since I arrived in China, was when I met Carrie – to me she is a gift from heaven.
We have been together for a year-and-a-half now and this period has included some of my happiest memories during my time here.

I wrote the above part last Friday afternoon.
Today is Monday, 19 May - exactly one week after the above mentioned earthquake occured.
Last night there was a big fundraiser on CCTV (Chinese TV) and heaps of money was donated by various individuals and organisations.
This afternoon, at exactly 14:28 hours (the time when the earthquake occured), a siren signalled the time to observe a three-minute moment of silence. Chinese flags everywhere hang at half-mast today.

Hallo daar!

Ek skryf gou om te laat weet alles gaan goed hier. Julle het miskien al die nuus gehoor van die groot aardbewing wat ons gistermiddag hier in Sjina gehad het.

Halfdrie gistermiddag was daar ‘n reuse aardbewing in die suid-weste van die land - die skudding het 7.8 op die Richterskaal gemeet.
Selfs mense, in sommige geboue, hier in die ooste - amper 2000km ver weg - kon die skudding voel.
Ek (by die huis) en Carrie (in haar gebou waar sy werk) het niks ervaar nie, maar my kollegas in ons skool se gebou het almal die skudding gevoel en was eerste om my te vertel van die aardbewing.

In Xi’an, waar ek voorheen gebly het, het die aardskudding 5 op die Richterskaal gemeet. Die mense daar het almal ‘n groot skrik weg en het die heel nag buite hulle geboue spandeer.

Wenchuan, ‘n klein dorp in die suid-weste waar die fokus van die aardbewing was, was die ergste getref en le onder puin.
Reddingswerkers sukkel om ‘n ingang tot die dorp te kry en alle kommunikasie met die buite wereld is afgesny. Op die oomblik skat hulle dat daar alreeds ongeveer 8 500 mense in die skudding gesterf het.

Ons het vanoggend op televisie gekyk hoe reddingswerkers mense, lewendig en dood, uit die rommel grawe. Almal raak al hoe meer bewus van die geweldige omvang van die ramp - dit is nie ‘n mooi gesig nie. Ons harte gaan uit vir die mense in nood.

Ek is baie dankbaar dat ons hier veilig is, en dat ek julle daarvan kan laat weet.

Groete en liefde hier van ons kant af.

Alles van die beste

Stanley

On a rainy Saturday evening I waited for my girlfriend outside the building where she works. I was waiting for her to finish work so we could go to 1912, a small a city block with bars and restaurants, where we were to meet my collegues from the school where I teach English.

While waiting outside the building entrance I heard what sounded like a kitten mewing, eminating from the shrubby garden area that adornes the front of the building place. I thought at first that it might‘ve been my vivid imagination playing tricks on me, so I walked over and leaned closer to in order to see if I could get a sight of the kitten, but to no avail. The mewing had stopped and it was to dark to spot anything among the dense knee high shrubs, terraced in three layers to about headhight. After standing still for and waiting for about another minute the mewing started again.

The fountain-area, next to the shrubs, formed a small pool from the steady rain all that afternoon and early evening, and I had to leap across very carefully in order not to slip on the tiled surface. On approaching the shrubs the mewing stopped again, which meant to me that the kitten could see me although I couldn’t see it. With my checkered-blue umbrella in one hand, to shield myself from the drizzle, I climbed onto the first step of the terrace and waited. I saw the branches of some shrubs coming alive with movement. The kitten was obviously scared and moved away from my approach.

Not long after my suspicions had been confirmed, the kitten started to mew again in full earnest. I moved my gaze in the direction where the cry (of distress) was coming from, and at first moved slowly on the very narrow path between the first and second layer of terraces. I was closing in on the sound of the kitten’s call, and then suddenly, for a brief moment, I saw only a bit of white amongst the shrubs as the small creature crawled away and hid itself again from my view.

Eventually my girlfriend, Carrie, arrived downstairs with some friends and I motioned to her so she could join me in “the hunt” for the kitten. We spent about half an hour moving to and thro, here and then there, around and also through the shrubs, but the whole time the kitten managed to evade us. In my imagination and frustration the shrubs had by now taken on the aspect of a small jungle and our little kitten was as elusive as a little tiger. Carrie had a small torch with her. This functioned as our “searchlight” and on one or two ocassions did I get a glimpse of the kitten in the beamed light.
Carrie had by this time also started to “mew” (after the kitten) and each time it would mew back as if to answer her call. We must’ve been a silly sight to all the many passers-by, but early on I had already decided not to care about that.

The search was called off and we agreed to try again later that night after we attended our party. We had to return for Carrie’s bicycle anyway.

Later that night, in a mild drizzle, after having had a few drinks and laughs we walked over to the “rainforest” where the “little tiger” was hiding. On our approach we could already hear the kitten crying in the rain, and I resolved to catch it and take it home.
This time I was a lot bolder, having seen that the gentle approach didn’t work, and I litterally threw myself into the shrubs after the kitten. In this way I “coaxed” it out onto the narrow pathway between the shrubs AND I CAUGHT THE LITTLE DEVIL AS IT TRIED TO SCAMPER AWAY.

Immediately the kitten tried to claw its way out of my grip, and after not succeeding with this it decided to bite my finger hard two or three times. I still bear the scars. I have nine little puncture marks on my left hand index finger and it’s a little bit sensitive to the touch. A right little devil kitten it was. Our first meeting wasn’t a friendly one at all.

By this time it had started to rain a bit harder and both the kitten, Carrie and I were pretty wet. Carrie ran inside the building to ask the security guardsd there for a box or something elseto put the kitten in. I waited for her across the road. I looked at the litlle brown, black and white felow trembling and complaining but secured in my grip.

In the meantime Carrie had hailed a taxi. She couldn’t get a box for the kitten so the three of us got into the back of the car and were driven back home in the onset downpour. All the way back home the kitten shivered and mewed constantly. From it’s racing heartbeat and shabby looks I could tell that it was very afraid and, I thought, pretty miserable too.

At home we arranged a sleeping place for the kitten in the laundry room. We tried to feed it some milk, but it was tough going. The whole night it hid itself in a corner, and hissed when we tried to pick it up. All things considered it was pretty lively, but it didn’t hold an ounce of trust in its little frame. Eventually we went to bed and I fell asleep only to be woken up again soon by a constant mewing.

On Sunday morning I got up early the and went out to by kitty litter, a syringe (plunger?) and a pair of gloves (to help prevent any more scratches, and potentially painful bites, to my hand).
So, I ended up feeding and treating the little thing with the proverbial (kid’s?) gloves.

Later that evening on our return from work I again attended to the kitten, gave it some milk and tried to calm it a bit. It was still scared, hissed and tried to find a hiding place while I tried to pick it up. It was a little wild cat, that it was for sure. When Carrie eventually got hold of it from its hiding place behind an opening inside the washing machine, it kept still and Carrie and I fed it some milk. It kept on pulling its head away, but at the same time it flicked its tongue eagerly at the fluid I spurted into its mouth.
By this time Carrie had taken a dislike in the kitten – it had scared her with its constant hissing, crying and aloofness.

On Monday morning we took the kitten to a pet clinic. We walked all the way there, and I carried the crying kitten in my arms.
Carrie and I didn’t talk much on the way. She had already decided it would be better if we got rid of the kitten. I still had high hopes for it, and wanted to see it grow big before we gave it away or “let it run away”.

Deep down inside I knew that the kitten was ill, I still expected the pet doctor to say that the kitten was O.K. and that it only needed an inoculation. Or something simple like that.
It turned out that the kitten was running a fever though, and its blood count was very low because of a serious lack of nutrition. It looked pretty serious. The pet doctor suggested that we have the cat drip fed.

I considered my options and then without flinching decided that we should have the little kitten put to sleep.
At the time I was very cool about my choice. In the end it was mostly a financial decision.
“Put it out of its misery and stop the suffering”, I said. “I’m not going to spend thousands on this stray kitten”, I said.
Carrie and I both agreed that we would forgo the idea of having a pet at our home again, or ever.

During all this time the kitten was acting a bit wild and tried to free itself from my arms, but then finally it must’ve sensed what was coming – it might even have seen Death itself – because after I told Carrie about my final decision it remained perfectly still and calm as if to say, “I will behave better now. There is nothing’s wrong with me”.

While the kitten laid there spread out on the table with a needle stuck in its little paw I couldn’t help but to feel very sorry for it. Its life had been a cruel one and it would be over soon.
I will now admit that I then regretted the choice I had made. Unfortunately my friend had to suffer as a concequence, and this I now regret.
What an awefull choice it is to make - the decision to take a life away.

In hindsight I should have taken it home and tried to doctor it back to good health again.
I would’ve prefered to have the kitten run about today. Even if it had to suffer a bit as a result of its illness.
Although it was afraid, slowly starving and sick with fever it still put up a good fight. It truly was a lillte wild and tenacious kitten. Until the end it tried to escape or hide itself away. It would tough it out on its own if it had its way.

Afterward I carried the dead kitten away in a box. Carrie and I walked along the road mostly in silence. I complained at the fact that the clinic wouldn’t get rid of the little kitten corpse.
We bought a garden shuffle in the marketplace close to our home, and took the dead kitten in the box to a park not far away next to the river.
In the park I put on my gloves and I dug a hole in the soft brown earth, in the shadow, under a big tree.
I tore of the tape that closed the brown cardboard box shut. I lifted out the dead kitten and felt its body light, soft and limp in the palms of my hands. I saw its lifeless eyes and placed it into the hole in the earth. It lay there half curled up as if it was napping.
I coverded the kitten with the dug up soil and filled in the hole until there was only a little mount
left covered in leaves in the shade under the tree.

I have been taught again how extremely precious life is and also how very fragile it is. For this reminder I have to thank my, now dead, little kitten friend without whom this experience would not have been possible.

May its spirit roam wild and free.

The end.

Dear Reader

Last year I taught at a school in Nanning in the south of China. On one of my regular runs around Nan Hu (South Lake) I met a local fellow runner, Hu Chen (his English name is Bon), and he told me about the annually hosted Nanning halfmarathon that was due to take place in December that year
I decided to prepare for the event, and also made it my goal to finish the race in under one and a half hours. I had taken part in two other long distance races before, and had not been able to achieve this goal yet.

I had two months to prepare. My training schedule consisted of a regular run, at least three times a week, around the 8 km lake with its beautiful palm trees and gardens. I also went for a few one hour-runs with Bon and another friend, Qin Wei, around the hills of the Qin Xiu mountain park - here the terrain consisted of beautifull gardens and was excellent for hill training.

On a mild Sunday morning, 4 December 2007, my girlfriend Carrie and I got up early to meet Bon and Qin Wei in the big goverment square where we were to be set off on our 21.1 km journey through the streets of Nanning.
I ran a good race without any hitches, and with 5 km to go on the final stretch down the main road realized I was well on the way to finish within my time goal.
This period was also the hardest part of the race. I was fighting a mental battle with myself - my legs had seriously started to tire by then - I kept on telling myself to keep up the pace, or I would risk finishing outside of my goal. The ecstasy of seeing I was actually going to realize my goal helped me to fight on and ignore the fatigue and pain.

With 50 meters to go I met Carrie alongside the road and she spurred me on to the finish line. I saw the time on the finish line clock was reading 1:25 minutes and it kept ticking away. I sprinted the rest of the way to the end a little bit overcame by emotion at my personal victory.
Qin Wei finished two places before me and Bon, with a sore knee, followed shortly behind me.

At the finish line we met with other runners and more spectators. We watched the prize giving for the winners and marvelled at their fast times.
The true champ of the day though was a vibrant and cheerful 72 year old runner from Shandong Province. I asked him the secret to his youthfulness. He modestly claimed that he regularly exercised and ate honey for strength.
That day he earned great respect from everyone and he certainly was my personal hero.