Red Heart

Last night I had a phone conversation with my dad about the Olympic clothing ceremony.

“It was stunning and unbelievable,” he said.

“No. I thought it was obscure and hard to understand,” I said.

“There is rich historical meaning in the show. I think you should go back to read the book, 'Five Thousand Years of China' again so that you could enjoy the closing ceremony better,” he said.

The book my dad mentioned was the bible of Chinese history. It is as thick as a 1996 edition Merriam-Webster dictionary but with a yellow cover. I finished the book when I was in elementary school. Most stories in the book were about kings shed the blood to build their empires. I don't know how it could possibly be used to explain the underlined meaning of the closing ceremony.

Interestingly, my foreign friends also felt lost in the closing ceremony. It looks like the cultural gap and the generation gap are not so district when comes to understand the closing ceremony.

What are the shows of the ceremony trying to say? What's the message China wants to the world to read?

I thought of a discussion I had with my friend about the opening ceremony. Film director Ann Lee also applied for directing the opening ceremony. Would he do a better job than Zhang Yimou by explaining China clearer to the world? Giving the rich experience working in the west Lee may be able to use a more international language to express China rather than mixing some mysterious Chinese tradition.

However, Lee was denied the chance.

What I found most disappointing is the Beijing Olympics songs. I noticed many songs were produced by Mr Bian Liunian. Mr Bian is in my dad's generation. He's like the godfather of the new folk music in China. By receiving some highest national honor for his music, Bian is widely credited for his ability combining pop songs with the revolutionary music style. Thus, the Olympic songs touched by his hands are just like his other famous revolutionary pop.

I guess when China proudly shows its new image to the world, it hopes people can see its energy, development, and promising future. Why is the out comings usually wrapped with a context of the past, either revolutionary or historical way.

Hope this could be understandable to my dad and Mr Bian's generation that my generation and the rest world look forward to seeing China's tomorrow, after knowing about China's today and yesterday. After all China does not need to wear an old fashioned hat.

The Workers' Stadium

Originally uploaded by Red Heart

Jim watched the game here. As the boxers rapidly moved. His heart was like dragged by some magic, jumping up and down

(Jim's experience maybe is common during the Beijing Olympics. But his story reflects the culture differences between the States and China, or more about the the chaos brought by the games...)

Heavy rain were nonstop pouring. In front of the Workers Stadium, Jim waited more than half an hour for a taxi. He finally decided to give up and just walk home. Seeper on the street ran into his shoes, cold and wet, just like his mood at the moment.

"Not able to enter the bird nest, but finally I saw an Olympic boxing game, " he said.

Jim Wang, 26, is from New York. When he was nine he emigrated from Shanghai to the United States. Then he speaks English everyday. His favorite food also changed from steamed bun to steak. Luckily, he did not forget Chinese. Right now, he's an economics majored PHD student in Colombia University. Jim could have a bright future after graduation. However, he thought of returning China one day. " The Olympic Games is a great evidence to show China's development. There are tons of opportunities in this country," he said. Not yet fully made his mind, Jim planned to come back this summer and watch the Olympics, hoping to eyewitness the new era of China.

During the Olympics, it is said that there are about 450,000 tourists coming from overseas to watch the games in Beijing. Among them, many young Americans are just like Jim, who views China as an opportunity. After one hundred years, in another side of the Pacific Ocean, offspring of the China dragon, got recalled by its power. This August, they'll gather here to catch up a big party, feeling the heat of the Olympic Games and the China heat.

However, the desire to watch the Olympic Games is not so easy to achieve--booking tickets, collecting tickets, finding accommodation, and identifying venues. Jim realized that he will spend lots of money and face enormous difficulties. But he wanted to try for his dream. Because it is not convenient to get the Olympic tickets in the United States, one month in advance of the games started Jim flew to his relatives' home in Shanghai. He made attempts to get good tickets, but minor luck came. In the end, he found that there were many tickets sold through EBAY. Handball, football, and boxing tickets were still available. Although they were not the popular games, they were still interesting venues. It was good deal for each ticket costing less than one hundred dollars. He quickly tracked six tickets and purchased them.

"Now journey to Beijing," Jim said in great joy. Till then he was one step closer to reach his dream.

Jim turned on his computer to search for hotels. Then he got shocked. During the Olympic Games hotels price in Beijing growed enormously. Even some low standard hotels were charged as much as the Hilton Hotel at the Time Square of New York city. As his research went on, he got upset. He saw a special notice at Ctrip, the largest online booking hotel website in China:

“From June 30 to September 30, a male and a female guest to stay in a same hotel room together have to show valid IDs, as well as legal documents for marriage proof ."

Jim was confused. The first thing appealed to him is the concern of privacy. Then he thought about the Chinese government's hard takes to prevent terrorism during the Olympics. "Shouldn't the state think more about terrorism rather than interrupting someone's privacy? A real terrorist should be able to afford two hotel rooms," he raised many questions.

Jim did not want to book a hotel any more. He got on the FACEBOOK, to look for friends who currently stay in Beijing. Then he sent them group mails and see if they could allow him to stay temporally. One friend wanted to help, but Jim had to sleep on the floor. "I can do anything for seeing the Olympics," said he. He started packing.

Bumpy on a long-distance train for one night, Jim arrived Beijing. "Absolutely the real capital, the atmosphere here is so different." He was happy to see flowers, Fuwa, and the banners of "Beijing welcomes you". This wiped away the unhappiness and tiredness – he sat on a packed train just like a migrant worker, as aircrafts from Beijing to Shanghai were all full during the Olympic Games.

"The bird nest, the bird nest" Jim repeated. He took out the prepared map and was headed off to the bird nest. "I want to take a stream of shots," he said.

After all the complexity he finally reached the front gate of the Olympic park where the bird nest is. Watching the surging crowd, he also stepped up the pace. Suddenly, a security guard stopped him. "You do not have a pass!" the guard said. Jim looked around and found whether a 70-year-old elderly, or 17-year-old boy, all hang a yellow card with photos. Jim said he is an overseas Chinese who came all the away from the United States and wanted to see the bird nest. He groped for his American green card. "You speak Chinese. Are you really an overseas Chinese? Again, I only allow people with passes to enter this park before the Olympic opening ceremony. After the games start I'll accept tickets as well,"the security said coldly. "Please just let me have a look and take a few photos," Jim begged. The security guard still rejected him.

Jim was very frustrated. The bird nest, one most unique architecture in the world and a symbol of the power of China, now is blocked from him by a gate. He dreamed of seeing it. "I have to look for a way," Jim made his decision.

At night Jim's friend took him to a Peking roast duck restaurant. Cheered up slowly, and he was able to eat half of the whole duck. "Beijing is nice," he said. Arriving home he felt so tired that he fell asleep once his head touched the pillow.

He woke up very early the next morning and quickly made phone calls to the ticket seller. He checked the received tickets and felt so annoyed as if he stomach would be exploded. When he was in a hurry to book the tickets, he did not notice that none of the venues would take part in the bird nest. He dialed 12308, the Olympic counseling hot line, selected Chinese service and asked if he could enter and take pictures of the bird nest with non-bird nest venue tickets. The answer was no. He did not want to give up, dialed the number again. This time he used standard American English and tried the same question. But the answer was the same.

Jim tried EBAY again to see if there the bird nest venues tickets left. Soon he lost hope, as the cheapest ticket was 2000 dollars. "Thar's my one month expense living in New York. I can't be so luxury," he said shacking his head. Thinking for a while he remembered that his friend John may have bird nest venue ticket. Jim wondered if he could borrow the ticket and just go to the bird nest for photos. He started to ring John, explaining carefully about his eagerness to photograph the bird nest. Ultimately he was rejected. Jim lied down on the sofa, and stayed still. Disappointment smothered him like tides.

He did not understand why by all his efforts he still could not watch the bird nest. That modern architecture standing in the open air, in fact is impregnable fortress, a distant prohibited place.

When his mind is more clear, Jim made a decision to sell most tickets in his hand, leaving only the boxing tickets. "If I can not get to the bird nest, to see any game is the same, “ he said. “ Fighting is fun. I want to see fights."

At 7pm on Sunday Jim was sitting inside the workers' stadium. He had a mixed feeling. On one hand this is not his most desired result, on another hand, after all, this is an real Olympic game. His attention was quickly dispersed by the absolutely beautiful stadium. At the center of the roof a hundred or so poles lifted a light, looking like a giant flower basket. At the middle of the light it is the Polaris, reflected by changing laser lights, which turned to different shapes and colors – like the waves and the snowflakes; in gold and purple. The shines dazzled people. This stunning stadium can be compared to excellent ones in the United States. Jim wondered how much money to spend to build this. It is said that the Chinese government spent fortune for the Olympic infrastructure, spending 6.4 billion USD.

Just then, the announcer said the first game started. Chinese cheering squad shouted out loudly. The audience joined hoorays. Jim also felt the excitement. At the boxing stage, Ghana's athlete in red aggressively attacked the Germany athlete who's in blue, punching on his head, to the left and the right. Their boxing gloves rapidly moved. Jim's heart was like dragged by some magic, jumping up and down.

"I want to come back one day. I want live next to the bird nest and watch it very closely,” he said.

I don't know how to start to tell my experience in India. I was there for two weeks, but felt as long as two years. The last part of my trip was like a long sweet dream which I did not want to wake up. However, when I left I almost felt like I fled from there, a happy, successful fled.

The start of my journey was not dull. On the flight I sat with a fine-looking relaxed Indian guy studying in a Graduate school in Australian. His name is Vivek, which means wisdom. We discussed the culture differences between India and western countries, very fun and interesting conversations. Later on he found the wine on the plane was really tasty and encouraged me to drink, too. For politeness, I sipped a bit white wine, which was not amazing. He left me his cell phone number and home number. " Call me if you have any problem in Delhi,"he smiled to me. I was moved by his warmness.

We had an unpleasant delay of landing due to the business of Delhi airport. For 20 minutes or longer the plane can only wheeled above the airport. I guess most people were like me dreaming of putting on a parachute and jumping off to the land—a desperate after a long journey and knowing the destination is right there. Later I heard such delay is very often in Delhi airport and 20 minutes is relatively short. It is true that Delhi airport is under construction. However, this is not the only reason to be blamed.

Anyway, I was lucky as a friend is picking me up, otherwise I didn't how to survive in such a dark and chaotic airport. Still, it took half an hour for us to find each other near the parking lot. Finally, my friend set me in his car, which surrounded by numberless cars. When I started to wander how could us get out and drive, he went to call some people working in the park lot. Three of them started to push the cars in front us away, one by one. This left me in a shock, the first experience for me to see people park and drive this way.

DSCN6818

Originally uploaded by Red Heart

Going to Disneyland is a mistake. I used to think I am big kid. When I was in Disney I realized I was not any more. But the person who invited me was absolutely a child. He was one my good friend in college. It's been four years that I had not seen him. He did not change at all, just like Peter Pan who refused to grow up. But surprisingly, there is shining ring on his left hand. I smiled and wonder who wanted to marry to a child...

The whole day He behaved like a child, jumping up and down. He told me he's been here many times and still loves it. I was forced to wear the Mickey mouse ears with him. I wonder he wanted to learn that I've changed. Can he imagine mojito and martini are my favorite, not coca cola and juice? Every night I listen to Jazz and rock, not pop and children songs. But Peter Pan still sang the Disney songs all the way.

It was a reminiscent of four years ago that he and I sang one Disney song and won a prize in college. We practiced loud together, singing ” two little tigers, running fast” while riding bicycles back to our dorms. I still remember the wind blew up the yellow leaves and flied like thousands od butterflies around us in that fall in Beijing...

Four years was as short as a dream. During these years we did not have much chances contacting each other. But now we met in Japan, not China where we used to be in college together, or U.S. where he used to want to be and now I live.

I don't know when our next meeting will be. Will he still be Peter Pan? Who will I be?

One thing did not change is that we're still friends.

O-torii Gate

Originally uploaded by Red Heart

Famed Miyajima Island of Hiroshima

There are something you can only think about during day, there are some books you can only read at night. Some books you can't read at night, such as John Hersey's Hiroshima.

I remember very well my feeling when I first read that book. It was like cotton stuck in my chest and I could not breathe. What is autonomic bomb? What happened after the bombing? Hersey's book showed us: children had a handful peanuts before the night of bombing, and afterwards the only food was the pumpkin cooked by the heat of bombing; persist was reading his favorite daily , and later he was running only in his underwear from the crashing house; husband lost his wife and son; mother slept with her dead baby and would not let it go; then the dead bodies piled up in the river, some died from burning, some died from the poisoning of radiation water.

In one word, autonomic bomb=death.

Hersey's book makes me wanna to go to Hiroshima to see to hear what happened there. So there I was last week.

I thought I was in some where else. It is such a dynamic, blooming, and well developed city. If there's miracle. I think that is what I see in Hiroshima. The wealth of the city can compare to Tokyo, the bars street in Horikawa of Hiroshima is better than Shimbashi of Tokyo in my eyes. The style of the city can compare Boston, at least the street car system are so similar. The fashion of the city can compare to Kyoto, the fancy dresses from men and women in Hodori street of Hiroshima remind me of the main street of Kyoto's Gion corner.

But something does not change is the same seven rivers are still running through Hiroshima. Green, quiet the river is, such a opposite image of the busy city. Then near the rebuilt Aioi Bridge, A-bomb Dome has been there since 8:15am August 6th, 1945. Today it becomes one entrance of the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park. Over a Million tourists visit here every year. The Hiroshima Memorial Museum displayed the facts why and how America decided to bomb Hiroshima.

Nothing in the museum is very dark or bitter, only some left-over small clothes of dead children, one human shadow left on some stone steps make your nose become very sour and your heart turn to cold. All tells one thing: the war is cruel and we should avoid such inhuman thing.

I love the most is the energy of Hiroshima. It's so encouraging that you feel Hiroshima is sunny everyday.

And I can't forget a group of Hiroshima young teenagers hold their guitars and stand under Aioi Bridge, singing every weekends. Next to them is the Ota-gawa River used to stuck of human bodies 65 years ago. The teenagers seem to ignore that dark memory. Their singing is mostly about love. The warmness of the songs melts the shadow of the river.

Nobody I met in Hiroshima said they are anti America.

Hate can destroy lives, but love can create a future.

Shrine in Shin-okubo

Originally uploaded by Red Heart

The original meaning of Roppongi is six trees. I did not find lots of trees in Ropoongi, but numberless neon lights, many men and women, black and white foreigners, and different style Japanese people.

It's hard to see Japanese people not wearing suits during the week days. Men and women are mainly wear black or gray suits. I have an illusion it is the Gray Suits Times for Tokyo in the 21 century. Maybe many people know the 1970 Gray Jackets Times in China during the Cultural Revolution.

However, today in big cities of China or America you can always see people wearing all different clothes not just suits. Especially in summer young girls' skirts and dress will make you feel the whole city is a big garden, as girls dress like flowers. So many colors, so many styles are shining under the sun.

In Roppongi I see similar girls at night under neon lights—short skirts, low collars, and heals. There are so many bars, restaurants, and pubs in Roppongi. It's crowded but not so noisy, no loud music on the streets, people like to talk in their own small circles.

Inside the pub it's different: hip hop or 1990's western music, red light, dance moves, smoke, young Japanese, foreigners all mix together. I was there with a friend who used to work as bartender in a famous hip hop pub 10 years ago. The pub is still there and still popular today.

“Drama starts after midnight,” he said.

At that time over a hundred people dance together--face to face, hip to hip. He squeezed in between the crowd. Sometimes he felt the breasts of young girls swing through his shoulders as he walked by and the girls were laughing. Sometimes he arms were burnt by the dropping cigarettes ashes of some guys.

Finally the most popular girls would dance on the bar table. Then guys all started to buy her drinks. She drunk, dance and drunk, dance and got very drunken. Guys started to tear her cloths... Laughters, Hooray, more wild moves.

“Do you want to stay and eyewitness this tonight?” he asked me.

“No,” I grabbed my bag and walked out the pub. My hearts could not take too vibrate scenes. The black guys next to our table was already publicly flirting his Japanese girl...

“ OK. Let me show you something,” he said and then guided me to an ally behind the pub. He explained as there's no public space in Roppongi, lots of people used to take their lunch break in this place.

It is a grave yard, just a dozen feet behind the pub and other restaurants. Big and small, tall and low grave stones stand next to each other, looked crowded. But there was no sound.

Everyday it is crowed in the grave yards, and it is crowded in the pubs.

Live and death, in between life is like a dream.