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Canada Day 3 June 16 Flooding, Alvin, Robyn, and Sleeping Under a Bush

June 24, 2011

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In August 1968 I had just recently turned 17 and started at McGill University as a French and Russian major. Since I was a foreign student, they didn’t have room in the dorms so I had a one-room apartment in the heart of downtown Montreal just 5 minutes from the university. I knew no one in Canada. I had almost never cooked before and did not plan to eat out. This should have been quite a scary experience. Looking back it seems scary to me now but it didn’t then. I quickly made a friend in Alvin, who had the apartment next to mine. He and I also shared an apartment with two others in my third year. Alvin was a big help during this time of my life, helping to keep me up with what was happening in Montreal.

When I did a local university radio show (called “Got the Blues”) a few years ago, my old friend from Montreal, Alvin, had found me and called in during the show. We have been in contact since then and we made arrangements for him to meet me when the train stopped for four hours in his current hometown of Winnipeg, Manitoba.

Alvin was waiting for me at the Winnipeg train station at 8 AM today. Alvin has really impressed me. He decided he didn’t like his weight so he took up bike riding, but in a big way. Every year he takes 600+ mile rides through the west as part of a group that raises money for Habitat for Humanity. He had recently come back from a bus tour with his girl friend through Spain and Morocco. He does this type of tour frequently. He’s retired as a school psychologist but works part time. He has an enormously upbeat attitude.

Margaret was looking for a place to run in Winnipeg since it was difficult to go without running on the train. Unfortunately, the best trail by the beautiful downtown train station was flooded. Alvin and I ate breakfast and Margaret joined us after her run. Alvin took us on a sight seeing trip of Winnipeg. This was like the personal guides I had in my 8 weeks of travelling but much better in that it was a friend.

Flooding in Winnipeg where Margaret wanted to run

My old friend Alvin who met me at the station at 8 AM (left), keeping my tradition of touching water, in the Forks area in downtown Winnipeg (right)

An unrelated story is in that first year in Montreal, there was a massive (10,000 people or so) demonstration to turn McGill into a French speaking university as part of the movement for Quebec independence from Canada. The apartment building where Alvin and I lived was right in the thick of things. I was standing on the stairs with friends when suddenly the police attacked the crowd and everyone was running wildly to avoid getting hit by the police. We climbed the stairs to re-enter my building but they had put undercover police in each building to make sure the demonstrators didn’t go in. I started to explain that I lived there when I felt a police baton hitting the back of my legs. I turned around and realized my only option was to run away with the demonstrators. We were now behind the police lines. For several hours, demonstrators set bonfires in downtown streets, taunted the police, and regrouped in new locations. After a few minutes, we could have gone back to the apartment but it somehow became fun. We ran around with the demonstrators, not getting too close to the police but had a good time and didn’t go back until well after midnight. You can find a brief reference to the demonstration at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/McGill_University#Language_Policy. Some of the sites I found when googling “McGill Francais” spoke of how peaceful the protest was but the following site had a live broadcast from that night in French that described the police movements and the protestors throwing burning placards (archives.radio-canada.ca/c_est_arrive_le/03/28/).

Small part of the McGill Francais marchin 1969 to turn McGill into a French University. I started as an observer, then got my legs hit by a police baton, then became a participant.

We had from 8 AM to 11:30 AM in Winnipeg and Alvin took us all over. I was impressed with Winnipeg. Alvin showed me the downtown, including the famous intersection of Portage and Main, which has been called the windiest in Canada. They had converted the ugly train yards downtown to a sculpture area and small shops. They are building the bizarre looking Canadian Museum of Human Rights. I really enjoyed Assiniboine Park’s Leo Mol Sculpture Garden www.manitobaphotos.com/mol.htm. We almost saw the Governor-General’s visit to the Manitoba Parliament, which would not have been a big deal.

Sculptures in downtown Winnipeg (left), the most famous intersection and the windiest in Winnipeg, Main and Portage. (right)

The future Museum of Human Rights

From Assiniboine Park’s Leo Mol Sculpture Garden

A really pleasant moment in Winnipeg

A highlight of Winnipeg for me was finding the bushy area where I slept under in 1970 while travelling across Canada. I distinctively remember that it was right downtown and near a fountain. We found such a place and Alvin told me that it could be a scary place to be late at night, which is exactly how I remembered it. There were nasty critters, both of the flying side and of the human side. I could be wrong but the place Alvin took me, right by the Parliament building struck me as the exact spot.

I mentioned in my blog about Israel that there really is no way to know if many of the famous sites are really the correct locations. We will never know if Jesus was really born at that exact spot in Bethlehem. Many things in life are like that. We guess at memories and choose to celebrate them on certain dates and at certain locations. Not that my sleeping behind a bush in Winnipeg was momentous but if I choose to call this picture the spot then in one sense it is. Who knows, maybe it really is the spot.

What feels like the area where I slept in 1970 while traveling in Winnipeg with lots of bugs and scary people around (left), the Manitoba Parliament just across the street from where I slept (right)

We got back on the train in plenty of time for the noon departure, with all new crew. We then passed through the flat prairies, which were made more interesting by the massive flooding. The farmers have lost many of their crops and will be suffering, along with there being higher food prices. Although it was exciting to see the flooding, the tedium of the similar views for hours on end got to us.

Flooding in Manitoba and Saskatchewan as seen from the train

To break the tedium, fortunately Robyn Dell’Unto was playing again in one of the activities areas. She wanted me to play the tambourine with her and I had the courage to say no. She met someone on the train to play with her who came late. They clearly had not had much time to practice together but they sounded really good. Robyn was a real treat. I enjoyed talking with her on a few occasions about the old days and about her career. One of the great things about Canada is that they fund the arts much more than we do. She has received some funding to help her put out her CD, to travel on this train, and in many other ways.

Robyn Dell’Unto could be a real star. Check out her website at robyndellunto.com Click on the video for a wonderful song where she dresses as a bird.

Screen shot of Robyn Dell’Unto singing her song “Just a Bird”, from robyndellunto.com

Not the kind of audience Robyn’s used to but very appreciative nonetheless

Robyn singing with a friend on the train without the bird costume

Besides Robyn, today’s highlight was clearly visiting with Alvin in Winnipeg. Going back to what I wrote about on Canada Day 2, Alvin showed me that someone from my circle of friends can go through the craziness of that era and maintain respectability without becoming boring. I like the sound of maintaining respectability without becoming boring. Is that enough for a life goal?

Canada Day 2 June 14 On the train to Gogama but not Wawa, a Champagne Reception and 3 Larry’s

June 23, 2011

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Neither of us slept really well on the train. The room is tiny and can be set up in two configurations. One is upper and lower beds, with a steep ladder to the upper. In this configuration there is a very narrow aisle to get to the door to the tiny cubicle for the toilet. The other configuration has the two beds folded into the wall and replaced by two comfortable chairs. We checked most of our luggage but kept a small bag and two backpacks in the cabin. There really wasn’t space for more than that. Surprisingly it wasn’t a claustrophobic feeling. There’s certainly much more room than an airplane plus there’s a quarter mile of train to walk through including 3 dome cars, 3 activity areas and dining cars.

As soon as we got in our room, they summoned us to a champagne reception in the nearby activity car. The train left Toronto at 10 PM and it felt good to be relaxing with a drink with the shakiness and rhythmic bumps of the train. After we got back, I was mesmerized lying down and watching the forests, lakes, and tiny settlements go by. It was difficult for Margaret to sleep, since it was so late for her and the adjustment was tough. At 12:22 AM I took the following screen shot with the blue pin showing our location, right next to Lake Simcoe. We left from Toronto, near the bottom of the screen. Soon we would be passing near Sudbury, near the top of the screen.

Going back to 1970 – Steve and I picked up two hitchhikers’ early who stayed with us almost all the way across Canada. When it was getting later in the day, we would take a side road off the Trans-Canada Highway, then take a side road off that side road. We’d keep going until we found a good place to camp. We’d all huddle around the campfire in our sleeping bags and one person might sleep in the station wagon.

A tiny crossroads town called Wawa, Ontario was filled with hitchhikers some of whom had been waiting for days. In 2011, we did not go to Wawa but we passed a town called Gogoma as compensation. The people traveling that summer we met were mostly in their late teens or early 20’s. They ranged from dropped-out druggies to college graduates on a once in a lifetime journey way out of their comfort zone. I remember eating carrot sandwiches with nothing besides carrots and bread. We scrounged whatever we could find and didn’t eat much.

2011 – The food on the train is wonderful. The whole experience is like a cruise on tracks instead of on water. We share travel stories with many couples but we were among the few who were not retired. Most though were in very good health and many knew a great deal about the regions we were passing through, like the people below that we kept running in to. They were retired middle school science teachers from Red Deer, Alberta and we enjoyed hearing their stories.

Couple we sat next to many times from Red Deer, Alberta, retired science teachers

Most of the people were older than us. I wondered if they were the same type of people I met in 1970 or if they were the ones at home working the jobs and staying out of trouble. For the most part, I think they were not the type of person who I would have met in 1970. This makes me wonder if I have not just aged with my peer group but if I have changed peer groups from the type of person who would take a whole summer at 19 and travel with little money, little plans, and little common sense. Had I become part of the peer group of mildly interesting responsible adults. Ultimately, I think that’s exactly what has happened, except that I do keep a bit of the old me.

I never liked the fact that my official name is Lawrence. I much prefer Larry. It’s annoying to have to use Lawrence on official documents. In my trips to the Middle East and East Asia, I was called Lawrence or Mr. Lawrence, or Lawrence Mark until I was able to convince them to call me Larry. However, I love that the name Larry is not unusual and also not overly popular. We chose the name Keith for our son because it does not have a long and short form like Lawrence and it is also not unusual or overly popular.

It was a thrill to me that the couple joining us for lunch this day had a Larry and our server was named Larry. It’s about the first time in my life I’ve been one of three Larry’s and had to get the following picture.

Larry (left), Larry (middle), and Larry (right). One of the first times in my life I have experienced this. If you were going to assign us to the three stooges, who would be which stooge?

One of the best parts of the trip was the singer they had hired to perform for us. Her name is Robyn Dell’Unto and she’s very good. She writes her own stuff on the CD I bought but on this trip she sang mostly folk rock songs from the 60’s. She rightly guessed that that would be what this greying audience would like but I also liked very much her own songs. I heard her sing two times and would have gone to see her all 4 times she was playing but the other times conflicted with our meal sitting times. I told her about the concerts I saw in the 1960’s including one of her heros, Janis Joplin.

Robyn Dell’Unto, excellent folk singer from 2011 singing songs like Neil Young’s “Helpless” (left), seats in the economy class like the ones I sat in for 3-4 days in 1970 (right)

On the train coming back from Vancouver in 1970, I distinctly remember getting out at a place called Sioux Lookout, Ontario and hearing Neil Young’s “Helpless” on a radio. “There is a town in North Ontario …” This was one of the few times in my life I have seen the Northern Lights in the sky. When Robyn sang that song in 2011, it made a real impact on me. In 2011, I stayed awake longer than I wanted to in order to be sure to get out at Sioux Lookout in memory of that incident in 1970. I had to plead a special case to be allowed off the train and had to walk all the way to the front of the train to get back on but it was worth it. Unfortunately, no one was playing “Helpless” and there were no Northern Lights. The town looked a little depressing.

The train station at Sioux Lookout where I saw the Northern Lights in 1970 while listening to the song “Helpless”

Nothing happening this night in Sioux Lookout

We also had a stop in a tiny town called Hornepayne, Ontario. It seemed to be a dusty slow town but it felt good to get fresh air. It was in the 70’s (or 20’s Celsius). We walked outside up to the very front of the train. There are 19 large passenger cars, including cars with economy class seats, the sleeping cars, activity / dome cars, and dining cars. There were also 2 engine cars and a baggage car. They told us it’s 1/4 mile to get from one end to the other.

We were not tempted to abandon the train for the charms of downtown Hornepayne, Ontario.

Looking to the back of the train (left), looking to the front of the train (right). About 1/4 mile long altogether.

Two engines and baggage car at the front

Everyday while we were out eating breakfast, the porter in charge of our car came into our cabin to put the beds away and set up the chairs. At dinner or whenever we asked for it, they would change the cabin to the other configuration. We were able to get pictures of her setting it up one day.

Opening up the wall in our cabin to get the beds out (left), finishing up setting up the beds (right)

Getting through Ontario took over a day and over 1000 miles. When we left Ontario, we were west of Minneapolis. Going through Northern Ontario was fantastic. The population we saw after getting out of the southern part was probably less than one thousand. It’s basically all rolling hills, lush forests, and lakes. It was easy to find camping areas in the woods in 1970.

Just one of the beautiful views of Northern Ontario from the window of our cabin.

My first impression of the people on the train with us was not overly positive. They seemed like possibly boring straitlaced old people (like us?). It turned out they were really a lot of fun. Most were retired like I said but almost all were adventurous and filled with interesting stories to tell. Possibly the most interesting person was the person below. She was on a year trip around the world, starting in her native England. She had plans to go to Hawaii, Australia, somewhere in Southeast Asia and who knows where else. She had made few plans and definitely had the spirit I had in 1970.

In a dome car, the most interesting person I met, on her way around the world for a year, with a passion for “trance” music”

Her passion was “trance” music, of which the only type I had heard of was “techno”, which has an almost monotone, hard-driving electronic sound. She educated me on the various types of trance music. In its purest form I think you try to get truly into a physical trance.

Forms of “Trance” music (a type of house music) as explained to me by the woman above.

Techno (from Germany)
Minimal (from Germany)
Electric House (from Germany)
Funky House and Dirty House (from Miami)
Psychedelic Trance (from Goa, India)
Progressive (from Tunisia)

Two things struck me most about this day. One was being in a cabin on a train with beautiful scenery out the window and gourmet food. The other was more important. I felt conflicted between the worlds of my image of the stogy old guy getting out of the house to travel on one side and the other side of the “trance” woman, the folk singer, and me in 1970. Maybe what’s happening to me on this trip is I’m trying to postpone becoming that stogy old guy as long as possible. Maybe (hopefully?) I’ll never become that person and will keep at least some of the good parts of me from 1970.

Canada Day 1 June 14 On the Road (Track) again: Fish Fry, St. Francis, and Reliving 1970

June 21, 2011

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Since my return from my last trip, I’ve alternated between guilt about not finishing my blog, doing some work, and just enjoying doing nothing. Today marks the start of my fourth and last international trip in the past 6 months. The first was with a week with Keith and Margaret in London. The second was by myself for 4 weeks to Cyprus, Israel, Jordan, Turkey, and Greece. The third was by myself for another 4 weeks to India, Korea, and China.

Our main reason for the trip is to celebrate my 60^th birthday (June 18) and our 25^th anniversary, two years late, otherwise known as our 27^th anniversary (June 30). Not that I need an excuse to travel but it helped in convincing Margaret to go.

One of the big themes of my trips has been self-discovery, which is of course a big theme of most people’s lives. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do a blog on this trip but memories of a trip I took in 1970 kept pouring out and I decided to dedicate this blog to bringing back that trip. I’ll get to the details of the 2011 trip in just a minute.

I’m going to jump back and forth from 1970 to 2011 in this blog each day. In June of 1970, I left Montreal after finishing my second year at McGill University for Ithaca where I bought a 1963 Rambler Station Wagon for something like $200. I then returned to Montreal to pick up my friend Steve, who kicked in for half. Our goal was to travel across Canada with the tiny amount of money we had. I remembered Steve’s parents’ telling him that he could not survive a whole summer with our ambitious plans on the pittance of money we had.

We took the important stuff in the station wagon like a mattress to lay out in the back with the seats folded down, a battery operated record player, and sleeping bags. We planned to always have hitchhikers with us. We felt like we were living in luxury since we weren’t hitchhiking ourselves.

Going across Canada or the US was a very typical activity in 1970 for people my age (19). My world was dominated not by the split between Republicans and Democrats that we have today but by the split between hippies and left wing politicos. Virtually everyone I knew was either heavily influenced by the counterculture or by radical politics. These two groups tended not to like each other although at times people moved from one camp to the other or tried to merge them.

That summer I was definitely in the counterculture camp. I had dabbled in leftist politics such as hanging out with tear gas in DC in an anti-Vietnam War march in November 1969. Later on I would move decidedly into the radical politics camp. The summer of 1970 though, was not for politics for me. I was one of thousands of young people looking to explore the delights of the road while experiencing personal change without too much concern for changing political or social structures.

The 2011 trip includes the following:

A 6 hour drive to Toronto (today)
3 nights in a cabin for two on the train to Jasper, Alberta in the Rockies
1 night each in famous resorts in Jasper and Banff, Alberta
5 nights in a ski resort just over the border in Panorama, British Columbia where we’ll meet up with Margaret’s brother Greg from Iowa
1 night in the famous resort in Lake Louise, Alberta
3 nights on the train coming back to Toronto
1 night (maybe) at the Royal York Hotel in Toronto
Home after being gone a little over 2 weeks

On our first day in 2011, we interrupted our 6 hour drive from Indiana, PA to Toronto, Ontario with a stop in Buffalo. I lived in Buffalo for 7 years and had some important events occur there like meeting Margaret and getting my Ph. D. Buffalo is best known in the culinary world for Buffalo Chicken Wings but Margaret and I are almost more fond of the way fish fries are cooked there. Nowhere else I’ve been has fish fries that are as good as Buffalo’s. The fish itself is flaky, moist, and very flavorful without a strong fish taste. The batter is crisp and thick, and almost a meal in itself.

We went to one of our favorite places, Hoak’s. Unfortunately, it was too windy to sit out on their deck on Lake Erie. When Margaret was growing up in Buffalo and to a large extent still while I was there (1978-1985), fish fries were only served on Fridays. This was keeping with the pre-Vatican II edict against eating meat on Fridays in what was a heavily Catholic city. We called ahead to check whether they were serving fish fry on this Tuesday. My guess is that fish fry’s are served every day now in most if not all restaurants that serve it.

Lake Erie and Buffalo in the background from Hoak’s (left), the best fish fry in the world (right)

As we were finishing our fish, I looked right across the road to St. Francis High School, where I taught math from 1979-1981. I have an enormous amount of bad feelings about this experience. I usually can handle adjusting to worlds in which I’m an outsider but St. Francis was more than I could handle. The dark buildings dominated by scary religious figures both living and on the walls, created an atmosphere that was too intense for me at that time. The students were all boys, all white, all Catholic, and just about all suburban middle class. Not that there’s anything wrong with that (thanks, Seinfeld, for that phrase). I felt the extreme lack of diversity led to narrow thinking from students.

St. Francis High School, where I taught from 1979-1981

I could not adjust to the discipline procedures, which consisted from some (not all) of slapping kids around and humiliating them. I was supposed to start every class with a prayer and would occasionally get in trouble for not doing so. The students had to wear a tie and either the sweater purchased from the school or a sport coat, which led to a sea of 30 or so red sweaters and ties in each class. I still have a large tie collection in a closet somewhere from those days. I have hated ties since I was very young.

The Assistant Principal should have been an actor. I remember when an obscene drawing was discovered in a classroom and no one confessed to being the owner. He brought the class into the chapel and as I was passing by, I overheard him say that he would use the bodies of everyone in the class as mops to clean the floor. I was scared and I’m sure the students got the message. Another incident of discipline I remember occurred in my friend Sean’s English class. He was being observed by the head of the department, who was a priest. A photographer for the yearbook came in to take pictures and a student put his middle finger up as a joke. After the class, the priest pushed that student against the lockers, slapped him, and screamed at him. My friend felt betrayed since it was his class and his problem.

Since then, I think there are no more priests teaching there since there is such a shortage of priests. My friend Bruce from graduate school at the University of Buffalo has been a teacher at St. Francis for many years and really loves it. I’m sure it is a better place now. I was tempted to cross the street and see what the place looked like after 30 years and if Bruce was there or anyone else I knew.

I gave into this temptation and entered the school for the first time in 30 years. Immediately, I felt the dread of the dark corridors with pictures of previous principals and religious figures. I found someone in the guidance department who she said Bruce still teaches there but the school was in their testing phase and most teachers were not there. They had put in a cheerful entrance with a fountain. I left my business card with a note for Bruce and am hoping to hear from him.

The place might be truly wonderful today, I shouldn’t prejudge it. I did have some good experiences, such as an elective for seniors oriented around mathematical games. I had many wonderful students. Shockingly, I was the tennis coach for a year. Fortunately my brother-in-law. Greg helped me out. I had never been on a sports team of any time in my life and knew nothing about being a coach. If someone became injured I would have just watched them die. My pay was something like $200. The athletic director asked if I could make do with 2 balls per match for home games rather than using all 3 balls in a can. Fortunately, I knew enough to say no to him.

I left St. Francis after two years to return to graduate school. I spent the next four years as a graduate assistant before getting the job at IUP. St. Francis was an important part of my life and career and certainly points out how you can learn and grow from mostly negative experiences. I wonder if I would still be teaching high school if I was at the public school nearby where I did my student teaching. That school had much better discipline policies, better equipment, much more diversity, and at least to me a healthier environment. I’m sure that the people paying to have their children go to the Catholic school would not agree with me.

Father Leon, Principal of St. Francis when I taught there

Back to the 2011 trip. We finished the drive to Toronto. I’m still angry that the US insists that visitors to Canada have passports. While Europe was eliminating border crossings, the US made it very difficult for families to take a day trip over the border. There are few borders that are less problematic than the US / Canada one. Fortunately, we have passports.

I love Canada and Toronto. I had the equivalent of a green card in Canada and would be very happy to be a citizen there. Having a really good job in the US is more important. Certainly, the US is a good place to live so I’m not complaining. OK, I do complain about many things in the US.

We parked at a garage just 2 blocks from the train station that I had found on the internet. It’s $18 a day, which will add up over 2 weeks but for a downtown garage, it’s relatively cheap. We were only allowed to bring 2 small bags per person into the tiny cabin so we checked 2 larger bags through on the train. We won’t see those bags until we get off in Jasper.

We had maybe 4 hours until we could board so we walked to the Eaton Centre to do some shopping and then saw the old and new city halls, which are spectacular. For me, the old city hall is much more impressive.

Toronto’s Old City Hall (left), New City Hall (right)

The waiting room for the train was not quite as nice as the business class airplane lounges I had been on and was full but it was quite nice. We commented on how we were probably slightly younger than the average age. Probably the people who were riding on a seat rather than a sleeping cabin like we were, were younger. This crowd seemed to be mostly leisure travel oriented rather than people needing to get from one city to another. We boarded at 9:15 PM and the train left exactly on time at 10 PM.

I’ll describe the train on the next day’s entry. Beginning to relive my 1970 trip and my 1979-81 teaching experiences has been cathartic. Just like getting my orange soda after 50+ years at the Taj Mahal and rediscovering my Jewish roots at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, I’m gluing long lost parts of myself back to the book of my life today.

India Day 1 March 26 Ghandi, Monkeys, and Mosques; Falling Down the Waterfall

May 31, 2011

feldmanlarry East Asia Trip Leave a comment

Riding a bicycle rickshaw in Old Delhi, really not in Indiana, PA any more

One of my favorite pieces of music is Mozart’s “Exsultate, Jubilate”. There is a very beautiful slow orchestral part that suddenly breaks out into an exhilarating soprano aria. An image I have associated with this is from a specific location in Cascadilla Gorge right near my boyhood home in Ithaca, NY. The water calmly rolls along with no idea that in seconds it will be subjected to the turbulence of a waterfall. The sudden change from calm to aggressive is like the Mozart piece.

I have another image now to associate with that piece. The relative tranquility of Korea and of sitting on airplanes for many hours to get to India severely contrasted in a similar way with what I saw in India. My brief three days in India were the highlight of this four-week trip. As Karl Pilkinton said on Ricky Gervais’ show “An Idiot Abroad “ about India, “When you see one thing, there’s another thing right away.” His neck hurt from looking so much in India.

I was really looking forward to the vibrancy of India but it scared me. Indian food is my favorite of all yet I’m worried about getting sick from the food. When I was in Africa at 20 years old, I got very sick from the food and was stuck in a far away city (Mopti, Mali) for several days with no real idea of how to get well or how to get back.

I had definitely moved from the “developed world” to the “developing world”. This came really clear on my bicycle rickshaw ride through a narrow alley with wild shops, monkeys, and hundreds of people in a space that should have had maybe dozens.

For the first time in all my travels no one was there at the airport when I got in. However, it wasn’t their fault. I left Singapore at 2:30 AM and was supposed to arrive at 5:50 AM with a 2.5 hour time change. Combining this 5 hour 50 minute flight from Singapore to Delhi with the 6 hour 30 minute flight from Seoul to Singapore and over 4 hours in the Singapore Airport was a very long day and night. Arriving about a half hour early was nice. Getting my bag and through immigration went extremely fast. I was all done before my flight was even supposed to arrive.

I called the number for my guide and they were close by. My wait was short so I really couldn’t complain. They took me to my hotel, which was a bit of a luxury to have a hotel for the previous night when coming in at 6 AM. My original thought was to nap until around noon then go sightseeing. However, I only had three full days in India and I decided to betray my hatred of mornings and start the tour at 9 AM. This day turned into the overwhelming display I expected but the following two days were much more intense.

Largest mosque in India, built by the same person who built the Taj Mahal

The first stop was Jama Masjid, the largest mosque in India in the heart of Old Delhi, which can hold 25,000 people in the courtyard. The red sandstone mixed with the white marble was very beautiful. Looking back on it (I’m writing this after the trip is done), it was just one of many amazingly beautiful buildings I saw, highlighted of course by the Taj Mahal. I was surprised at how few European looking people I saw in India (like the ones in the above right photo), even at the Taj Mahal.

Beautiful symmetry of the Jama Masjid mosque except for me

Rules of the mosque including no women or non-Muslims after dark (left), crowded street next to mosque (right)

My sister and my brother were carried by rickshaw to school in Sri Lanka when we lived there in 1955. My sister remembers feeling really bad for the person carrying them. I did feel bad for the rickshaw driver on this trip but at least he had a bicycle. I suppose I could have lost some weight for him. My sister also hated the beggars, the poverty, and the dirtiness so much that to this day she doesn’t like to travel to developing countries.

I’ll write about my take on the beggars, the street vendors that come right up to you, and the dirtiness after some pictures of my rickshaw ride in Old Delhi.

The bicycle rickshaw man has a difficult job (left), starting the ride through Chandni Chowk in Old Delhi (right)

A Mandarin Monkey on the wires at the top of these two pictures!

Monkeys apparently are quite common in this area of Old Delhi and in many parts of India. I couldn’t quite figure out if they are treated like we treat dogs, mice, or chickens. I think they’re treated as nuisances like mice but not feared for disease like mice. They are tolerated but not really appreciated that much. My guide talked about how they get in people’s living spaces, eat food lying around, and leave messes. However most Indians are strong Hindus and believe in reincarnation between human and non-human forms and therefore try not to hurt animals.

A wedding supply shop (left). All the shops were very colorful. The street was very crowded but my guide said this too early for the ridiculously crazy traffic, fortunately.

The food shops all tempted me but I knew I had to be very careful (left), cleaning the sewers (right)

The guide rightfully called this “an electrician’s nightmare” (left), we went several blocks through an area that supplied books, stationery, paper, etc. for all of India (right)

Western-dressed younger man with a more traditionally-dressed man sharing a rickshaw (left), a shop in the butcher area (right)

After the rickshaw ride, we got back in the car and drove to Raj Ghat, the cremation site of Mahatma Gandhi. This was a little emotional for me. Ghandi was one of the most important people in world history. He developed the philosophy of non-violent resistance to evil that was used by Martin Luther King and many others. He organized the successful resistance to British rule that began the freedom of dozens of countries from being controlled by empires.

I bought the dvd of the 1982 Academy Award winner movie “Gandhi” and will watch it on my next trip (across Canada in a train). If you have never seen this movie or haven’t seen it in a while, you should see it. It’s a sweeping epic with brilliant acting by Ben Kingsley. There has been a recent biography of Gandhi that has been very controversial, in fact has been banned in parts of India because of parts about his sexuality.

Raj Ghat, the cremation site of Mahatma Gandhi, very emotional to be there

The eternal flame for Gandhi (left), a girls’ school on a field trip to the Gandhi cremation site (right)

I almost forgot about continuing my discussion of my sister’s issues with Sri Lanka / India. To me, the joy of the amazing sights of India outweighs these problems.

The people trying to sell stuff weren’t a bad issue for me. Every guide I had carefully explained not to say “no” to the beggars and sellers. They treat a “no” as an invitation to begin bothering you more. I was taught not only not to speak with them but also not to even recognize their presence. I learned to just look a tiny bit out of the corner of my eye in case they did have something that was worth looking at. My guides also helped to shoo them away.
The guides said also to treat the beggars the same as the vendors. Don’t recognize their presence. They said that frequently the beggars are from a gang of beggars that have a pimp-like leader who takes much of their money. I don’t know if this is true or not but apparently if you do give money to one of them then many more will quickly flock around you. Since I won’t be solving the problem of poverty in India by giving small amounts of money to a few people, I took the advice of not even acknowledging their presence.
The dirtiness is a problem. It’s easy for Westerners to get sick in India, whether from the food or from just air-borne dirt. There are often piles of junk lying around. Maybe the key here is not to lie around in the dirt too much, to wash hands frequently, to eat only at established tourist areas, and to be ready to possibly get sick anyway. An alternative is to just immerse yourself in India and be prepared for getting sick.

I sympathize with my sister though, it was probably hard for her as a young child to ignore people coming by who were sick or injured. It made a long-lasting impression on her. I had decided not to spend a long time in India since I had two weeks or so to go after India. Like I said though, these 3 days were the highlight of the whole 4 weeks.

After yesterday’s full day and night of travel with some sleep, just an hour or so of nap at the hotel, and a morning of sightseeing, I was ready for some respite, either sleep or food. My guide said he wanted to take me one more place before lunch and I agreed to it. We went to Humayan’s Tomb, which was visited by President Obama in November 2010. After the terrorist attacks in 2008, visits to this tomb went down quite a bit.

Humayan’s Tomb, a World Heritage Site, built in the 16th century

Two very old trees at the adjoining Bu-Halima’ Garden: ashoka (left), and banyon (right)

Very steep stairs to get to Humayan’s Tomb (left), 6-pointed star (right)

No — this was not built by Jews. I’ll quote from Wikipedia about 6-pointed stars in India. “Within Indic lore, the shape is generally understood to consist of two triangles—one pointed up and the other down—locked in harmonious embrace. The two components are called ‘Om’ and the ‘Hrim’ in Sanskrit, and symbolize man’s position between earth and sky. The downward triangle symbolizes Shakti, the sacred embodiment of femininity, and the upward triangle symbolizes Shiva, or Agni Tattva, representing the focused aspects of masculinity. The mystical union of the two triangles represents Creation, occurring through the divine union of male and female. The two locked triangles are also known as ‘Shanmukha’ – the six-faced, representing the six faces of Shiva & Shakti’s progeny Kartikeya. This symbol is also a part of several yantras and has deep significance in Hindu ritual worship and history.”

I’ll quote again from Wikipedia about the building itself. “As a contrast to the pure white exterior dome, the rest of the building is made up of red sandstone, with white and black marble and yellow sandstone detailing, to relieve the monotony. The symmetrical and simple design on the exterior is in sharp contrast with the complex interior floor plan, of inner chambers, which is a square ‘ninefold plan’, where eight two-storyed vaulted chambers radiate from the central, double-height domed chamber.”

But what amazed me most about this beautiful building was the geometric shapes of tiled screens. I took pictures of maybe a dozen different shapes. I’m including here just two of them.

Two of maybe a dozen different geometrical screens inside the tomb building

The tombs

Front of the tomb (left), a woman carrying a massive load on her head (right)

Finally, I deserved lunch. We went to a touristy area, which is all I would allow myself to do in order to try to avoid getting sick. The restaurant was called Pindi, which is in the Punjab area of Pakistan. It was wonderful and it reinforced for me why Indian food is my favorite of all foods. I had a Fanta Orange soda to practice for my visit to the Taj Mahal. I’ll tell that story in the post for March 27.

Restaurant I ate at for lunch (left), a Fanta Orange drink; practicing for the Taj Mahal tomorrow (right)

A very long day indeed except that the afternoon’s travels were just beginning. Fortunately, there wasn’t too much on the agenda. The only bad part of the day was the arts and crafts store we went to right after lunch. If I was into buying items like these, this would have been a great place. I wasn’t into it and we didn’t stay long, which is one of the advantages of having a private tour. The first part of the craft store was weaving and selling rugs. Ugh. I had had enough of rugs in Istanbul. I still don’t understand spending many hundreds of dollars for a piece of art that’s on the floor and you step on. I like rugs but I wouldn’t spend a lot of money on them and certainly would not have them imported all the way from India. The only part I liked of this was when they dramatically drop the rolled rug and have it spill out to its full glory.

Weaving demo (left), rugs for sale (right). I’m not interested.

Jewelry at the arts and craft shop, not my thing

Our final site was the President’s House, Parliament House and other Government Secretariat Buildings. These were interesting enough buildings but not on the level of the Jama Masjid mosque or Humayan’s Tomb that I had seen earlier or what I would see the next two days in Agra, like the Taj Mahal. The highlight for me was all the monkeys.

Building of the Indian National Government

Real monkeys at the gate (left), elephants on the column (right)

After I got set up and took a nap at the hotel, I decided I was too hungry to just go to bed. The hotel was excellent (Claridges) and had three restaurants, a Western style one, a mix of Western and Indian, and an Indian food only one. Of course, I chose the Indian one. The food again was excellent. A young British couple sat at the table next to me and we started a conversation. He was a specialist in setting up sound systems for large events like concerts. He had been hired to do the sound for a wedding. We shared similar political beliefs and it was fun to see how someone from Britain looks at our politics. Basically, they felt British politics were at least as messed up as ours. They almost disdained Tony Blair as much as George Bush, while recognizing the intelligence gap.

There is a lot of money in India, some of it getting passed on to people who own farmland that is close enough to become urban sprawl. The land can become worth in the neighborhood of a million dollars or so and these people have more money than they could ever imagine. The people at dinner gave stories of amazingly ridiculous weddings in India, like giving a helicopter as a wedding present only to find that they couldn’t make the upkeep payments. The irony was that they were bringing in British “servants” for Indian people as a total reverse of the role of the nationalities of centuries of British colonial rule.

Wonderful dinner at the hotel Indian restaurant

My highlight of the day was definitely the rickshaw ride through Old Delhi. The mosque and the tomb were spectacular but surpassed by what I was to see the next two days. Most importantly, I had fallen down the waterfall of the Mozart aria that I described at the beginning of today. The feeling of the crazy world of sensual overload will last with me for a long time.

Singapore March 25 A sad farewell to Korea, 80 Degrees, and I wonder what Singapore is like

April 26, 2011

feldmanlarry East Asia Trip Leave a comment

I’m writing this at 10:30 PM at the Singapore airport’s outdoor “Entertainment Deck”. I was reminded of how much I really love hot weather. 80 degrees feels great. I don’t miss the snow and wind and cold at all but I will miss Korea.

Outdoor “entertainment deck” at the Singapore airport (basically a place for people to smoke), 80 degrees feels great

I suppose it’s 10:30 PM although it’s 11:30 PM in Korea where I’ve been for the last 10 days, it’s 10:30 AM back home, and it’s 8:00 PM in Delhi, where I’m going in a few hours. The fact that I’m thinking about this makes me realize how fascinated (hung up) with time I am. I shouldn’t really care what time it is except for making sure I get on the flight to Delhi that leaves at 2:30 AM Singapore time.

Map on my airplane screen. I was surprised at how close Singapore is to the equator. It’s much further south than Delhi, India. I think this is the closest I’ve ever been to the Southern Hemisphere. This was the only connection I could get from Korea to India.

My hope was to be able to go into Singapore itself in the 5 hours I have here but the plane got in 40 minutes late and I don’t want to get stuck in a traffic jam and miss the flight. So sitting outside is my consolation prize. On the plane they mentioned that anyone with certain items would need to fill out a special declaration and they included chewing gum as an item that would need to be checked. I had heard that chewing gum is banned in Singapore but it still amazed me to hear it. Singapore is known for being squeaky clean and also one of the most ethnically diverse places in the world.

It’s really true that they ban chewing gum in Singapore. Hopefully, they don’t have the death penalty for gum chewers though.

Earlier today, I packed up at 10:30 AM to go to the post office to mail back the children’s work from the school and other stuff I don’t need during the trip. I sure hope it gets there otherwise I’m in bad shape for my study (it got to the US before I returned). We then drove the 90 minutes or so to Incheon Airport where Woo and I had a last meal together.

Woo asked me how I would briefly summarize Korea. I told him that I sensed very strongly the clash of cultures. Korea is between China and Japan and has been conquered by one or the other multiple times. It is also maybe the last vestige of the cold war. I’ll never forget the tension and heartbreak I felt at the DMZ. One the other hand, South Korea has managed to remain very solid, both in its unity and in its economy. From the little I saw, the people are remarkably hard working, intelligent, and polite. They don’t seem bitter. Rather than wallow in their problems, they’ve gone out and created an economic miracle and have a society that works. With people like Woo around, their future is bright.

There is some chance I could work with Woo or others in Korea on research. The biggest conference in math education occurs every 4 years (ICME) and will be in Seoul in 2012. I might try to make it.

Last view of Korea from the plane

Bob Dylan Concert The Times they are NOT a’changin’

April 10, 2011

feldmanlarry East Asia Trip 8 Comments

Since I entered this blog few days ago, I got an email from Martin, the guy sitting in front of me at the Dylan concert, with several great pictures. Here’s one. Others are further down.

Bob Dylan Concert in Shanghai April 8, 2011

The Bob Dylan concert seems worthy of a separate blog entry. I went through a great deal of hassle to get the ticket as I mentioned in other entries. Maybe I’ll pull all that from those entries and put it here later. I found out from my guide that I was interviewed on Chinese TV after the concert. I think I come across as kind of an idiot, but I’m used to it.

My guide found a link to the interview, picked up by another channel and she also downloaded it. Thanks, Sissi. You can see the clip at http://ent.kankanews.com//vods/ff80808129f4b1ca0129f6039b340bb3/ff8080812f2b7fc8012f37b27df90d04/

or download it at:

鲍勃·迪伦昨晚上海开唱中外歌迷梦圆大舞台 [看东方].mp4 (10.38M, 2011-4-24 19:39:01到期)  鲍勃·迪伦昨晚上海开唱中外歌迷梦圆大舞台 [看东方].flv (3.87M, 2011-4-24 19:42:37到期)

There are several reasons I gave the title The Times they are NOT a’changin’. One is that 5 of the 16 songs he played could have been played at the concert I saw of his in 1966 in Ithaca, NY. Another is that Dylan agreed that the Chinese government would approve his playlist for this concert and the song “The Times they are a’changin’” is probably one of those that would not have been approved. The last one is that his music was considered edgy back in the 1960’s as supportive of change and this concert comes at a time of change in China. It is one of the first US concerts of its type.

If you’re not interested in my adventures in getting to the site or ramblings about Dylan, scroll down to the heading “THE CONCERT”.

I just read Maureen Dowd’s article called Blowin’ in the Idiot Wind at http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/10/opinion/10dowd.html (thanks, George for sending me the link). The gist of it is in this quote “You say you’re lookin’ for someone who won’t kowtow to an oppressive government? It ain’t he, babe.” (by the way, she quotes someone using the same title I’m using here but I came up with this title before I read the article). I think Maureen Dowd has done to Bob Dylan what people have been doing to him since he first became popular. People have always been trying to make him into a political rebel since some of his very earliest songs were protest songs. He’s been trying to tell people that he never wanted to be thought of as a protest leader or anything but a musician. For him to play in China without being allowed to play some of his songs obviously was not really an issue for him. Maureen Dowd should be looking elsewhere for political leadership in fighting oppression in China. I wonder if she has ever bought anything made in China. She seems to recognize this in the article but at the end she is accusing him of selling out for the money. Maybe that’s true but I think it’s at least equally likely he’s in it for the chance to play his music. Obviously neither Maureen Dowd or anyone else really knows for sure except him. He is such an important figure in music history that people will always be trying to make him into something he’s not. When you go to another country, you have to live by their laws. I could go to Tienanmen Square and yell out protest slogans but that’s against their laws. I could refuse to go to China or buy any Chinese products but that would be pointless. It feels strange to be disagreeing with Maureen Dowd because I usually agree with her.

In any case, I finally got my ticket the morning of the concert. I paid 980 RMB, which is about $150, not cheap. They also had tickets at 280, 480, 680, and 1280. The ticket office was close to the Shanghai Grand Theater, where the concert was so I knew where I was going later. It was hard to find the office and when we did, we had to wait a long time for a small elevator, which was overly packed. I picked up two copies of the concert poster they were giving away, that were also being sold at the concert.

Dylan in Shanghai Poster (I’m too lazy to pull out my copy)

I almost fell asleep when I got back from my full day sightseeing in Shanghai but was afraid I wouldn’t get up in time so I forced myself to stay awake. At a little after 6, I decided to get a taxi for the 8 PM show, even though the taxi should only take 20-30 minutes. I thought it might be fun to hang out at the site and also after all I’d gone through I wanted to be sure to be there in plenty of time. I joined a taxi line just outside the hotel, which was perfect except for the fact that I was #7 in line and no taxis were coming in.

After 15 minutes of waiting I was #5 only because two groups had given up. I bailed and started walking in the direction of the concert. Thank you, iPhone Map app, which let me know it was a one-hour walk, about 5.1 kilometers (3.2 miles). It was before 6:30 so I could walk all the way and be on time. I showed my ticket to someone on the street while waiting for a light and he confirmed that I was going the right way. I stayed close to the street so I could hail a taxi.

It felt good to be out on the street by myself. I’ve almost always had a guide with me. The street was filled with all kinds of stores such as noodle shops, open air butchers, and tiny fruit markets. The intersections were crazy with all the bikes and cars who didn’t seem to fully stop before taking a right on red (or were they just running it?).

Back in the 60’s and 70’s when it was socially acceptable I used to hitchhike a lot. I noticed back then that some hitchhikers were walkers and others were standers. When no one is coming to pick you up, some would just stand in the same spot and others would start walking. I was a walker. This relates to part of my personality where I’m always wondering what’s at the next point both physically and mentally / emotionally.

A few empty taxis came by but they were all going the wrong way and either didn’t hear me or didn’t feel like turning around. Finally, I found a taxi going the wrong way that was stopped for a light. I carefully crossed traffic and got in. I think I had walked about 1 mile out of the 3.2. It cost 17 RMB + 3 tip or about $3.50 and I was there about 6:50.

Outside there were a whole bunch of scalpers. Later, a loudspeaker warned people that many scalpers have counterfeited tickets that would be caught by the ticket scanners. After the scalpers came street vendors selling all kinds of stuff like trinkets and binoculars. One guy was blaring Dylan music and we sang together for a while. He was selling a pirated 3-CD set of Dylan songs and wanted 450 RMB ($67.50). I walked away and I think I heard him yell out 150 RMB ($22.50). Who knows how cheap he would have sold it for.

Guy selling Dylan knock-off CD’s at a rip off price, we sang together for a while (left). “Salute to Bob Dylan” singing Blowin’ in the Wind really well except for singing “The answer is blow in the wind”, not blowin’ (right).

There was a crowd around a singer who had a sign that he was playing a “Salute to Bob Dylan”. He was singing a fairly good version of Blowin’ in the Wind but he messed up one word. Instead of “The answer my friend is blowin’ in the wind”, he sang “The answer my friend is blow in the wind.” To me his version means the exact opposite. Dylan’s version means to me that the answer to the lack of freedom cannot be stopped. It’s in the wind and is coming. By singing “blow in the wind”, the implication is to get the answer, you have to blow in the wind, which is to me a sign of futility. Our power to blow in the wind is tiny compared to the power of the wind. Not that anyone in the world besides me cares. I liked the way he did the song though. His next song was “Country Road.” I wonder if he knew that “Country Road” isn’t by Dylan.

After hanging outside for a while, I went in. They had a security check with bomb sniffing dogs, which I think is pretty typical for concerts these days. The concession area was remarkably low key. I bought an ice cream bar for 75 cents and a coffee for $2. There was no alcohol and only about 6-7 small booths altogether. There was one booth selling 2-CD compilation sets for 60 RMB ($9) and the poster I got for free when I bought the ticket. There was another area like this on the other side. These two areas were for the expensive seats. There was a separate entrance for the cheaper seats but I imagine the offerings were the same. No t-shirts or any memorabilia. I spent a while talking to two French businessman. It felt good to speak in French.

I got to my seat and was a little disappointed. It was further back than I expected. It was only the 26^th row and just a little off center but the stage still looked small. Besides the very low-key concession area, it was unusual in that they were not playing any music over the sound system as is typical in US concerts. I’m not sure if they were unaware of how it’s done in the US and other places or if they really wanted to keep it low key, since rock concerts are a relatively new concept to China.

Scene outside the stadium (left), scene from my seat before the concert started (right)

I hung out with an American guy who has lived in Shanghai for two years with his wife. He made it sound really fun living in Shanghai. I had been thinking the same thing as I was walking towards the concert. It’s the most Westernized city in China but the expatriate community he said was only about 30,000 out of a population of 22 million. That’s right, 22 million. Pennsylvania’s population is about 10 million.

I mentioned to the Australians next to me that I had seen Bob Dylan in 1966 and instantly the two Chinese guys in front of me turned around and wanted to know all about it. They had flown in from Chengdu that morning just to see the concert. I really liked these guys. They were going to the US for college (I never asked if it was for undergraduate or graduate school). One was going to the U. of Washington in aeronautical engineering. The other had been accepted to Wake Forest, William and Mary, and Emory but was wait listed to NYU.

Chinese guys who flew in just to see the concert, very knowledgable about Dylan, planning to go to the US to study in the fall. Martin, on the left, sent me excellent pictures of the concert and Shanghai from his serious camera.

One guy started talking about the song Desolation Row and I told him the story of how I had a quiz in 10^th grade English on Shakespeare. Instead of answering the questions, which I did not know, I wrote down most of the words to Desolation Row. The teacher wrote an angry note on my paper the next day with the obvious conclusion that if I had spend a small fraction of the time studying for the quiz instead of learning Desolation Row, I would have done well. The big zero on the top of the paper was well deserved. We were very happy when Dylan sang Desolation Row that night.

When I was on the boat in Guilin, one of the people at my table spoke of a concert she had been to in a park in London with Tony Bennett and Bob Dylan. She felt Dylan was a dud. He didn’t speak to the crowd while Tony Bennett was filled with charisma and gave the audience a good feeling. The topic of conversation moved on to something else but to me there is no comparison between those two. Tony Bennett is a pleasant entertainer with an excellent voice who does good versions of standards written by others. Bob Dylan is the main founder of a whole type of music, folk-rock. More importantly, he changed lyrics of popular songs from simplistic love words to complex and sometimes literary ones on all kinds of topics. He has written hundreds of songs over many decades and has made a major impact on many of the great musicians of the second half of the 20^th century. I’m sure Tony Bennett has influenced other musicians and indeed he is a much slicker entertainer but he’s not in Bob Dylan’s league.

THE CONCERT

They had the compulsory message about no flash photography or recording at the beginning but as soon as Dylan started, everyone got out their cameras and took flash pictures and held their phones, obviously recording the show. No one stopped anyone. I decided to do the same. I recorded somewhere between 15 seconds and a couple of minutes of each song.

Great shots from Martin live from the concert. Dylan playing the piano.

Here’s the playlist. He started about 8:10. I have short video clips of each song (two for those marked with a 2).If anyone has an idea of where to post these clips, please let me know. My guess is that they would be removed from YouTube since I forgot to get full authorization from the Dylan people and the Chinese government. You really can’t see much in the clips because of the lack of zoom on the iPhone 4. Martin sent me the playist that he figured out after getting home.

1. Gonna Change My Way of Thinking

2. Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right

3. Things Have Changed

4. Tangled Up In Blue (2)

5. Honest With Me

6. Simple Twist of Fate

7. Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dum

8. Blind Willie McTell

9. The Levee’s Gonna Break

10. Desolation Row

11. Highway 61 Revisited (2)

12. Spirit on the Water

13. Thunder on the Mountain

14. Ballad of a Thin Man

He made people work hard for the encore, which came about 9:50. The only time he spoke was to introduce the band between the two encore songs.

15. Like a Rolling Stone

16. Forever Young

Dylan and the band taking their bows (thanks again, Martin)

A few minutes after 10, it was done. When the lights came on, the crowd quickly quieted and left. Two hours is not super long but when you consider that there was no talking and very short times between songs, it was a lot. Some of the songs were long. Desolation Row on the album is maybe 12 minutes.

I bought Dylan’s album “Highway 61 Revisited” almost as soon as I heard “Like a Rollin’ Stone” in the 1960’s. It’s still my favorite album of his. Songs #10, 11, 14, and 15 were from that album, which made me very happy. I think only song #2 is from before that album.

The 10,000 seat stadium was mostly filled with about 2/3 Chinese and the rest American or European. Given that there are 22 million Chinese in Shanghai and about 30,000 expatriates, this was a large showing of expatriates. With Dylan not having had a hit in decades and the cost being expensive, it’s not surprising though. The crowd seemed like most I’ve been to in concerts like this. They cheered loudly when he came on stage and after each song. They especially went wild when he played the harmonica.

Dylan’s voice is very different from what it sounds like on the old albums. It’s more of a croak than a warble. I preferred the old sound better. Dylan played the guitar, keyboard, and harp. There were 4 in the band and I did get on the video Dylan giving their names at the break between the two encore songs. There was a bass player who sometimes played standup bass, two other guitar players, and a drummer.

As I walked outside, I saw a TV camera and walked over to see what it was about. Almost immediately, they pulled me over and I was being interviewed. I obnoxiously gushed about how much I enjoyed it and that I saw him in 1966. I didn’t expect it would be on the Chinese news that evening and throughout the next day. My guide had seen it the next morning. When I got back from Suzhou the next day, I put the Chinese channel on and when I heard the words Bob Dylan, I got my iPhone out and recorded the TV. I was indeed on for about 15 seconds. Later that evening, my guide emailed me with a link to a broadcast on a different Chinese channel. She figured out how to download it and converted it to .flv (YouTube), .mp4, and .mov. I really appreciated her doing that. The links are at the beginning of this entry.

I looked for a cab to get back to the hotel but there were about 30 groups trying to get one. I walked about one block before the crowd and easily found a taxi before it got to the crowd. I’m glad no one else seemed to have thought of this.

I was having breakfast the previous weekend in Beijing and while reading the official government English language newspaper I read that Dylan was going to be in Beijing and Shanghai. I was amazed to see that he was going to be in Shanghai at a perfect time for me. I thought about it for a while and decided that it would be too much hassle to get tickets and I’m usually very tired at the end of these very full sightseeing days. A day later, I thought to myself I must be crazy. Bob Dylan would be just a few miles from me in China and I want to hang out in the room? I then began a 4-day obsession involving hours on the phone and a lot of help from three different guides. Ann in Xian in particular spend a long frustrating time with me on the phone. She was great.

I’m really glad I went. It parallels my visit to the Taj Mahal as making a link to my childhood. If I hadn’t known the songs or his work beforehand, it wouldn’t have been that great a concert but the experience of being there and hearing those songs again from my youth felt good, Maureen Dowd notwithstanding.

China Day 7 Apr 5 Chinese Education and Xian’s Bei-Yuan-Men Muslim Culture Street

April 6, 2011

feldmanlarry East Asia Trip 1 Comment

Today was a travel day to Guilin but my flight wasn’t until 6 PM. The highlight of the day was the Bei-Yuan-Men Muslim Culture Street, which was both fantastic and frustrating. Fantastic because it was filled with vendors preparing strange food right on the street. Frustrating because I knew I could not allow myself to try any of it.

Before I show pictures of the street, I’d like to share what I learned about the Chinese College admittance procedure from Ann. Skip down if this doesn’t interest you.

First off, they go to Primary school 1-6 at the Chinese age of 6. They have a similar way of computing ages that Korea does. You’re one year old when you’re born and you change your age at the Chinese New Year, not on your birthday.

Then they go to Junior Middle School, called grades 7-9, like in the US. Finally they go to Senior Middle School grades 1-3, like our grades 10-12. High school is not free but scholarships are offered to some talented poor students. If students fail exams that take place after junior middle, they can go to technical schools or just enter the work place. About 15% go to college and it’s again not free except for poor students.

There’s one college entrance exam for the whole country, always held from June 7-9 every year. They start preparing for this exam in primary school. After they get their scores, they give a ranked list of their top 8 university choices. Their application goes to their no. 1 choice and if that university accepts them they have to go there. If that university does not accept them, their application is sent to #2 and so on.

Universities look at nothing besides scores on the 3-day exam, grades are irrelevant. Until last year students needed to choose their list of 8 before knowing their scores. The answers were available but you didn’t know the score for sure. Now you wait until you have the score. She went to a lower level school because she thought her scores were lower than they were. She wanted to go to one of the top 10 schools in the country but didn’t bother to apply and she would have made it had she known her score.

Before checking out from the hotel at 1:30, I noticed the elevator showed no 4^th, 13^th, or 14^th floors. Ann said that 4 is a very unlucky number in China since the word for 4 sounds like the word for death. I assume that there’s no 13 because of the Western fear of 13, based on Judas being the 13^th disciple at the Last Supper.

No 4th, 13th, or 14th floors

The street goes for 1.1 kilometers (0.7 miles) and smelled great from all the cooking. It was full of people but not packed. I didn’t see a single European looking person during my hour and a half or so. I was in heaven. Actually, one view of hell is to be put in a place that looks like your personal heaven but you are not allowed to be part of it. If so, I was in hell.

I was a tiny bit tempted to try something when Ann pointed out her favorite restaurant on the street. She hasn’t gone to it in a long time since she doesn’t think it’s clean. If a local doesn’t eat the local food, I definitely shouldn’t be eating it.

There isn’t a lot to say about this experience so I’ll mostly just show pictures.

Making pancakes (left), cutting up pieces of an unknown type of rice cake (right)

Freshly made rice cake

Views of the Muslim Cultural Street

Bought a silk scarf in this store, $1.50 seems very cheap but I’m not sure what to do with it.

Man on the right was one of the few dressed as a Muslim. Ann said there are 60,000 Muslims in Xian.

Hammering walnuts (left), Ann’s favorite restaurant that she’s afraid to go to because of cleanliness issues (right)

Many different varieties of dates

Woman on the left with the silver hat is of the Miao group, which is one of the top 10 ethnic groups in China. Most of them live in the South East, just a few in Xian. There are 14 ethnic groups in Xian. Scared to ask what they’re making on the right.

See — I’m not the only one hamming it up (left). One of the few people I saw wearing that Cultural Revolution icon, the Mao hat (right)

Bird House on the Muslim Cultural Street

Not sure if this is the bell tower or the drum tower at the end of the street (left), another street scene (right)

Ann had to stop at the bathroom so we went to a packed McDonald’s that had too long a line. This is just one of many rooms. The cost was about $1.80 for a Double Cheeseburger, $2.25 for a Big Mac, $3.60 with fries, which is probably very expensive for locals. I was disgusted to be in China at a McDonald’s but I didn’t buy anything. Every country I’ve been in has had McDonald’s.

Food ready for delivery on the bicycle. Looked really good.

By this time, we were done with the street and it was time to go to the airport for my flight to Guilin. I feel like I left a very good tip for Ann and the driver. She really went out of her way to help me with the Bob Dylan ticket and she was a great guide. I loved her demeanor and really wish her well. She wants to find a man who can keep up with her and I’m sure he’s out there somewhere. She deserves it.

Saying good bye to my driver.

On the plane, I was the only one in the 8-seat first class. There was one flight attendant in charge of the first class so all she had to do was take care of me. She actually ran up to open the door of the bathroom for me. For the first time in over a week, I was up for a beer but the only beer they had was Bud Ice. No thanks.

My personal flight attendant as the only person in first class (left), she gave me a tiny Chinese hamburger, nicely spiced, possibly from her own stash (right)

I’ll have a very good memory of Xian. The Terra-Cotta Army is worthy of all the fame it has gotten. The town was surprisingly big and developed along with having a long history as the start of the Spice Road. I felt very comfortable there, although being at home would be incredibly comfortable right now. I’ve been gone over 7 weeks out of the last 10 and it’s been over three weeks since I’ve experienced all the comforts of home. It’s not just the comforts that are at my house but so many other things like speaking to people whose first language is English and having more than two TV channels that aren’t Chinese. But like I’ve said many times, stop your whining, you lucky SOB.

China Day 5 Apr. 3 Xian is massive!

April 6, 2011

feldmanlarry East Asia Trip Leave a comment

I was amazed at how upscale the airports of Delhi, Bangkok, and Beijing are. There are no noodle huts here. The stores are on the level of Gucci, Victoria’s Secret, and other stuff that I don’t buy on a daily basis.

One of the many upscale shops at the Beijing airport, for those who want to live the BMW lifestyle

I thought Xian was a small town famous only for the Terra-Cotta Army. Turns out its population is over 8 million, was one of 4 ancient capitals of China, and the starting point for the Silk Road. It has 600,000 university students in 44 public universities and 10 private ones. As in Beijing, the sounds of construction could be heard from my hotel room. It’s a boom town with a very rich history.

Our first stop was the Shaanxi History Museum. I wasn’t really looking forward to this since I’m not a big museum fan in general but I had a good time here. My guide pointed out unusual pieces some of which had good stories with them. I tend to forget the details of history fairly quickly but I’m left with a feeling about some of the most important themes or people.

My Xi’an guide, Ann, is very different from my guide in Beijing. She is much more upbeat and outwardly enthusiastic. Alice had a more subdued approach. Ann also has the best enunciation of any guide I’ve had. It’s very clear when one word ends and the next begins. This makes it much easier to follow her. She has some very cute pronunciations. My favorite, that I thoroughly enjoyed when she said is was using the word “silly”, instead of the word “city”. So the city walls became the silly walls, the city center, the silly center and so on. “Silly” is really a great word anyway. Monty Python’s Ministry of Silly Walks is one of my top 10 or so of their skits. More about Ann later.

Ann informing me that the river in the middle of this map is where we are on a tributary of the Yellow River

We talked about the matriarchal struture of an ancient society here and she pointed out that 95% of the Chinese ledership is male. I remembered Mao’s line that women hold up half of the sky. The 5% have a heavy load.

Model of ancient Banpo village of the Yangshao matriarchal culture (left), the nails in the drinking cup were designed to tell you when it is empty. When the nails start to go into your face, it’s time to stop drinking (right)

One of the consistent themes of China is the duality of nature, the Yin and the Yang.

Yin — The earth, female, square shape

Yang — Heaven, male, round shape

These coins were designed to be round as in Yang, but with a square hole as in Yin.

Coin is both round, which represents the Yang, female, and heaven. The square hole represents the Yin, male, and earth.

Love the garlic bulb on the top of this vessel

This ancient lamp is environmentally sound. The hood keeps the smoke in, which gets recycled through the water at the bottom.

1/3 life size real terra-cotta, Han dynasty (going back 2000 years)

Horse supposedly worth $6 million. I would think it might even be worth more these days. Don’t think China needs to get more US cash though.

Woman dressed in men’s clothes (left), Woman dressed like a man to play polo (right)

When she showed me the woman above, Ann said plump women were considered ideal back then. She said she should have been born then, I disagreed that she is overweight. I guess bad body image is universal.

In the left picture are ancient figurines representing two of the Chinese signs of the Zodiac. The left figurine is my sign, the rabbit, and the right one is Margaret’s sign, the dragon. The picture on the right is the two of us taken in the summer of 2010 from Yosemite. The main difference between the two pictures is we’re on different sides in the two pictures.

Musicians on a camel

We then headed to the Temple of Thanksgiving. This is not a Tibetan Buddhist monastery but the other kind, whatever it’s called. Ann said 10% of the population is Buddhist, Christianity is the second biggest religion, Islam is third with 17 million, and Taoism is fourth. Many people still feel a little Buddhist, since that’s the religion of their ancestors, and will occasionally go to a Buddhist temple and pray a little. Alice was like this, praying at each part of the Tibetan Temple.

What’s interesting to me about China is that the majority of the people are of my religious persuasion, the “no religion” group. It’s a new experience to be in the religious majority. “No religion” is often the most hated religious minority. Many Christians will say they respect any religion as long as people believe in God, which leaves me out. I’ve noticed President Obama and others talk about freedom to worship any religion and then including me, will talk about the freedom not to worship any religion at all.

Ann remembering the Buddhism of her grandparents

The tower on the left is on the east side and is used appropriately to ring the morning bell. The one on the right is on the west side and is used for the evening drums.

Not wearing Chinese Army clothes

One of the many Chinese tour groups

I like the look of this old man

I had read a couple of days ago that Bob Dylan would be in Shanghai on Friday, April 8 when I’ll be there. At first, I thought it would be too much hassle to try to get a ticket and I’d rather then relax after sightseeing that day. Today as I was traveling around, the thought kept coming to me that I must be nuts to miss this. I saw him in 1966, a week apart from seeing the Rolling Stones, both at Cornell U. in Ithaca which is my original home town.

Getting a ticket turned out to be ridiculously difficult. I got Ann to help me and after an hour, we realized that it was impossible to get it done on the web site. They had an option for using a foreign credit card but then it said you must call. Ann called and they said they cannot process foreign cards on the phone. They said they would put one aside for me.

I got her to call the next day and they said that they could not put a ticket aside for me if I didn’t pay. I tried a couple of times in this process to be nice then agressive with them and nothing worked. Finally we went to a bank and did a wire transfer of my cash to the ticket company. Ann then called and seemed to feel it was good.

When we got to Guilin, my guide called and they seemed to feel it would be there for me to pick up Friday morning before the concert. We’ll see.

My notes and receipt from the wire transfer to hopefully get a ticket to see Bob Dylan on Friday in Shanghai

Today turned out to be more interesting than I thought it would be. The museum was fun. I enjoyed looking for little tidbits of interest. It ended with the frustration of the Bob Dylan ticket problem. Hopefully, I’ll be able to go and hopefully, it’ll be worth it.