a home away from home

Posted on September 27, 2017 by mrmakdeck

The Third Weekend…

I have been in China just over a 2 and half weeks and am finally feeling like the place that they have put me in, this spacious apartment, on the second floor in a compound full of similar buildings in a city I had never heard of before this job offer, this random, but warming place, is starting feel like a home. I don’t think it will ever be home home. It’s too empty. There is only one person in it. And I guess that could be a home to someone who was okay with single occupancy. And that might have been alright when I was of the single occupancy mind. But I am not that now. So a home away from home will do and I will make the best of these rooms and their four walls. I will adorn, I will garden, I will masturbate in every crevice. Kidding. I just have to keep you on your toes, right?

Because sometimes your school gifts you big boxes of pomelos pomegranates

Jiaxing is a lovely city of 7 million, which is considerably small for China and ridiculously big for most other parts of this weekend amusement park filled planet. Last weekend I walked around and explored the sites and by sites I refer to things I found via google maps that looked mildly historical and possibly entertaining. Being a smaller Chinese city means that it is more accessible by foot. I have set up my phone so that it can pay for the City Bikes…but just because a system is set up, does not mean I have any clue as to how to operate it. I tried a few times to set of the city’s two wheeled jalopies free, scanning the QR code from different angles, staring at the bicycle like a concerned parent, whispering a muted curse into it’s hypothetical ear and then moving on before a Westside Story-esque fight broke out. I ventured towards my destinations, the “sites” of Jiaxing, through through clusters of malls and overpasses, through glares and gawks, passed “waigerens and laowais”, through beeps and snot rockets and stenches and fragrances. The first on my list was a temple that shot up like a magnified wart near the side of one of the rivers, a cluster of smaller structures and towers, white and brown and moldy.

my office

The temple was currently inaccessible due to a ceremony going on within. I leaned up against the ancient welcoming post and peered in as the monks within the first inner shrine chanted, played instruments that echoed generations long dead, encircled by thick tornadoes of fragrant and blooming incense. After the ceremony I entered. The pictures say what I have no words to say. So I exited. Another temple down the way. This one, with a large inner courtyard. It was dedicated to a fallen General who had saved the Song Dynasty and was poisoned. More pictures.

More walking. The city’s greenness, almost obnoxious, with its abundance, but so welcoming and so unexpected. I walked through several of the touristy, made to look as if they were ancient sections of a long forgotten and abandoned Chinese water town, that lined one of the canals. Historical Disneyfication and commodification. Though, we do the same thing to actual history. The BC version of it, Barkerville, cashes in on that every summer. And why not? You learn a little, an impression is made and context is given to faded words and histories. It makes the past tangible and kinetic. I guess, in this particular instant, you learn nothing if you cannot read the Chinese signs. All I can surmise from areas such as these is that at some point something like this might have existed somewhere around here. I read that last sentence. Trust me, I got this.

shrimp pork dumplings from my local RT Market

I walk through a park lined with beautiful trees that rise like Tolken spires or war spears, their tips piercing the blue vastness that expands to horizons on all sides. The path ends at a wooden pagoda at the Beijing to Hangzhou Grand Canal. I have seen this canal in both Suzhou and Hangzhou. It felt as if I was reconnected with a cousin that my mother had told me about and who I had met at I point in my life where I didn’t tie anything down to memories. There wasn’t much to say, but still I felt I had a duty to stop and view it with wonderment and curiosity. It definitely was and is a technical marvel, the longest man made canal in the world and it was created over 700 years ago.

sounds interesting. tastes boring.

Before leaving the extensive greenway, I stop on a small island, accessible by a gate to have a glimpse over South West Lake. I peer down on it from an ancient bridge. Jiaxing is beautiful. I needed this. Having left things and people I didn’t want to leave behind, nature was a comfort to the barren feels inside.

At the edge of the park, old men, dressed like the Chinese version of Grumpy Old Men play polo on two, official looking polo courts. I stop, watch and snap a few pictures. People really take leisure time seriously and really do spend it with their friends, families and loved ones. It’s really quite nice.

Fishing on the canal

I stop into the house of a local resident who was one of the first people to translate Shakespeare into Chinese. He is long gone, but his house still stands, amongst modern constructions, byways and shlubbly dressed guards who wander aimlessly too and fro like poorly programmed baddies in an old school PC Shoot ‘Em Up . Today was a lot of walking. I peer through a small breach of a large, corroding fence that surrounds the Catholic Church that was partially destroyed by the Red Guard. It’s a beautiful structure is haunting; partially in part due to it’s dilapidated state. Renovations are on the table, right beside gay rights ;). Durian milk shake. Not sure about that. Kind of tastes like what, I imagine, an onion milkshake would taste like.

Delicious hot pot

Marking, marking, marking, teaching, teaching, teaching. Planning, planning. Dinners with bosses. Presents for teacher day. Pillow of my face. Originally I was like, this is so strange to own a pillow with my own image on it. It’s grown on me. I’ve had more than a few naps on it. I fear I am going to wake up from a nice slumber and feeling a bit disoriented, come face to face, eye to eye, with pillow Ira, his facial expression slightly altered from what I remember it to have been. In that regard, pillow Ira is not to be trusted.

Mark, mark, buy some stuff on Taobao. BOX comes from Canada! Only took a month. Coffee from Canada. Candies. Break bodum. DAMN. Order another off Taobao. To explain, Taobao is the place to get anything ever online in China. It’s better than Amazon and doesn’t generally charge for shipping and it usually shows up in a few days, unless it’s ginormous. I am obsessed.

big box of treats

Yesterday night, I went to see Planet of the War of the World of the City of the Planet Again of the Apes. It was fun and it was great to hang out with my new teacher friends. Went to Moon River after and my bike lock key broke. Nevermind. Had some drinks, 45 minute walk home. Rinse, repeat and return. Today I went to museums. Words. Sometimes no. Pictures. Yes. Those. More soon. Right after I get through this Tower of Babel of papers.

Mooncake full of meat. Yum!

Ground Myself in Jiaxing

Posted on September 5, 2017 by mrmakdeck

My complex.

So this is what day number three feels like alone in another country, without a person or two wheel companion to share the experience with?

Wow. That sounded quite disheartening. And that’s not how I feel. I feel…okay. I see possibilities. In teaching. In an overgrown garden that needs tending and care. In a life that needs foundations cemented deep into Jiaxing’s soil for a year.

My school is wonderful thus far. I was picked up from the airport by the principal and a co-worker and driven the hour and a half from Shanghai to Jiaxing in the dead of night skies with no stars, guided by yellow street lights and straddled by gray buildings, trees and expanses of black. We arrived at my complex at 12am. My principal shows me the basics of my place. Here is the air conditioner controller for this room. Here is the air conditioner controller for that room. Here are some bananas. Here are the three TVs in your place, two of which sit beside each other, one flat screened and one an old tuber, like a father/son talk or an awkward visit to the old folks home where you are left to for an hour to have a conversation with your hard of hearing elderly relative. They look uncomfortable on the same shelf and I am uncomfortable with them both being them being there, because of the inutility of the older generation model and how much space it occupies. But, I shall not be bothered with that now. I fall into a sleep of sorts.

my pad for the next year.

The sleep was not great. Jetlag is a newborn infant. You wake up every ten minutes or so. The sounds of a new place are unfamiliar and thus are whispering cruel things to me. The next day, I shower, eat one of the aforementioned bananas in cereal in a too small bowl that I will have to remember later on, and meet my principal outside to head to the school. I am ready. I am sleepless, but I am ready. She and several students show me the school. They show me the mediocre bathrooms (students words, not mine), the classrooms, the offices. The most exciting parts of the tour are self-revolving. MY DESK! MY CLASSROOM! The tour finishes and the principal returns to her office. My classroom is being used as a study hall. I sneak in and start to put up posters. But how can I sneak in? I am a Caucasian person in China. We cannot sneak anywhere. My students watch my every move. I am sleepless, but I am ready and I am choosing posters. I have too many for the space. Too many for a concert hall let alone a classroom. I will rotate them throughout the year. I have Goliath plans. I am dreaming and floating in a red sea of China. My name is spelled in pushpins on a green, felt board at the back of the classroom. Mr. Cooper. I am not Mr. Cooper. I speak with the principal. She okays it. I am Ira. I am Ira to everyone. There are no Mr. Coopers in my family. That generation was buried in 1994 with my grandfather in Toronto, Ontario. I am Ira.

entrance to my pad.

The next couple days blaze by like the heat, heavy like the humid slog called air. I went to the nearby Decathlon, my first solo outing. I take a moment now to note that the lack of tense uniformity us due to the lack of it in my life currently. I am everywhere like a suped up Delorian. This is not a good time to interrupt with that sidebar. We were talking about Decathlon. Decathlon is an amazing sports store from Europe. I am wowed by their selection of camping gear. I have previously purchased a tent at one of these stores, in Beijing, in fact. It met a fate of cat claws and piss. I will purchase another one. Quelcha is an amazing French brand that makes these great two person tents that fools like me needn’t worry going out of their comfort zones to put up. I used it throughout my Europe bike trip. I will use it again, but this time, my plans involve some local bikepacking. I am giddy with the long haul options and the untranslatable unknown.

one of the many canals in Jiaxing.

I eat a meal with the principal and a few teachers. Muslim food. I love Muslim Chinese food. It, like many other dishes, cannot be found in North America, except for a few, in the know, places. I nosh on noodles and potatoes and dumplings. There are more dumplings and buns to eat. My mouth unabashedly waterfalls at the thought of more.

I am on the hunt for a bike. Another teacher takes me to several outlets to check out what is available and at what price. I borrow a city bike and love every minute of the insanity of directionless cars, and tuktuks, and electric bikes, and stares and putrid canals and sounds and honks. The city bike is way too small for me and is rickity like the surrounding architecture. I will make my decision tonight as to where I shall purchase said two wheeler (as of two nights later, I am still undecided).

Yesterday, I complete my medical exams, which are comprised of a series of random tests, including having clamps attached to my legs and parts of my torso and stomach like a German dominatrix film, a series of squats, peeing into a cup (which was the hardest part, as they told me not to drink prior) and sticking uncleaned utensils in my nose and ears. After the medical, a co-worker took me for the local cuisine, zongzi, a sticky rice triangle, filled with meat or red bean paste. Delish!

Just in case you were unaware of where you were, which you might.

That night, the teachers and principal went for a dinner at the mall. The mall is a strange and marvelous place of the gaudy and decrepit. A strange amusement park that screams R.L. Stein sits in the centre of the mall’s open forum. It includes a Ferris wheel, several roller coasters and a random, broke down prop plane. If you have a penchant for trusting shotty mechanics, I suggest you take a ride. I happen to be quite a fan of this little ditty called life, so I passed. Oh, I most definitely passed on the basement aquarium, complete with suicidal dolphins.

Teachers’ dinner. One of many amazing dishes.

The dinner was epic, fine dining. Shrimp and dumplings and fungus and salad and pork belly. OOOOOOOOH YEEEAH.

Next day was a wandering day. I headed to a used bike store I had heard about from my co-worker. It was an hour walk, but I decided it would be a good way to see the city. So I hoofed it and found the following things:

fuzzy chamber.

Walmart – I bought oatmeal and tiramisu Oreo. I have yet to try to Oreos. I feel they will disappointment, as were most side-bar ventures of Oreo in Central America.

Sleeping Monk

A random, old temple – complete with dozing monk

A pork bun outlet – I consumed a pork and veggie bun. Yum.

The used bike store was pretty good, though ridiculously hard to find. A random room in an indistinct cinderblocked, crumbling factory. The bicycles made the room distinguishable from a place that one makes a mistake coming to and is promptly murdered or kidnapped for their erroneous decision.

Tonight, a colleague of mine will take me to Moon River, the central hub of tourism and alcoholism in Jiaxing. It should be a once in a life time experience, translating to a probably “been there, done that” evening. But YOLO, right kids?

Jiaxing living.

Hilarious sign #1.

A Lone Journey to China

Posted on August 30, 2017 by mrmakdeck

The long, halogen lights hang at odd angles like the miscellaneous items in a horder’s house. A child in red plaid screams about “APPLES!” and attempts a jump kick. My face feels like it has cried forever. My eyes are currently dry. My head feels like the lights, without order. It’s been an hour since I have seen Ruby. An hour since I held her in my arms and she held me in her arms. An hour into ten plus months away from her, from my family, from everything I know.

I feel empty. I don’t want to leave. “Are you excited?” “No.”

To clarify what is going on, for those in the not know, my partner and I had planned to go to China, to teach, to live together in Jiaxing, a city with a lego factory, some famous candy and 30 minutes from Shanghai. But my partner, Ruby, realized that teaching isn’t her passion. Why waste a year doing something that doesn’t fulfill you? Working towards where don’t necessarily want to be, doing something that doesn’t ignite your soul? And so, with a lot of thought put into it, as she always does, she decided not to come. I am happy for her. I am so happy she has found a great job. A place to live. I do not resent her decision at all. She is so brave, in her actions and her words. Meticulous in constructing her thoughts into sentences. She is so strong. She inspires and teaches me and tells me, to take an extra second, think.

I am in constant, unfiltered awe of her. I could go on, but that is a different, more personal (and infinitely more smooshy) letter.

So I am here, alone, at the Vancouver Airport awaiting a flight to Hong Kong, then Shanghai and then a car ride to Jiaxing. My reasoning for going is because, well, it was too late not to go. I am a certified teacher who landed a great job at British Columbian Offshore High School. Kids who graduate from this school graduate with a Dogwood Diploma, a B.C. recognized secondary degree. If I didn’t show up, they wouldn’t be able to replace me. They tried. They really tried. B.C. is having a teacher renaissance and there are numerous positions opening up in Vancouver and beyond. So why go to China to teach? Why suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous Visa stipulations and being stared at and photographed without your permission, when you can teach in beautiful B.C., with sit down toilets aplenty and foods from all over the planet. Oh yeah, and the whole nature and clean air thing. So yeah, no one able to fill my vacancy.

I could still have just not gone. Sorry folks, but I can’t come. Here’s a lesson for you kiddies, it’s called abandonment. Like I have just done, the world will do to you time and time again. Get use to it. It will be the greatest lesson you could ever learn and this is the best way to teach you it…. So I could have bit my thumb and jumped ship. That means 4 classes full of English students do not graduate on time. As an educator, as a human, as a creature with a beating heart, I could not do that. I could not leave them hanging. I could not abandon them. They need me. And if it’s bad, I leave. If it’s bad, I come home. If this feeling of ache, of internal avalanches and a mind full of doom and gloom and Charlie Brown adult voices accompanied by the mournful, humming of Tom Wait doesn’t pass, I don’t ask, I don’t plead, I leave. My sanity is more important than any job. My emotional well-being is essential to my teaching, to my personal hygiene and to my will power that forces me every morning to put on pants and not slip into a rat onesie. If I am not stable, am not a rock, do not eat three meals a day and drink the right amount of liquids, I am sporadic, I am despicable, I am sputtering and rambling, I am climbing unsafe ladders and eating unrefrigerated meats.

Where is the rhyme and reason behind all this? Behind this journey? Behind a piece of luggage that is a few kilograms over? Behind these random tubes of light? I hope to find out or at least convince myself of some form of divine reason, which would involve first convincing myself that there is a divine anything.

I am now in Hong Kong airport, the random bulbs have been replaced with a domed ceiling comprised of grey, nacho chip, shaped tiles. I am hungry. I have an hour until I board my final flight to Shanghai. None of my items are lost yet. My only travel damage is a cracked computer that seems to still be functioning. Superficial damage. I have superficial damages and I still function as well. My CPU is overheating and could use some more RAM, but it’s still puttering onwards. The setting sun through Hong Kong’s haze looks like the helicopter scene in Apocalypse Now. Instead of war machines, 747s and mountains.

My new, Ruby designed, art. Oh and my Tinea Versicolor.

I love you all. I will keep you updated with words.

Thank you to all of you who saw me before I left. You are all so special to me.

If you are ever in the neighborhood, don’t be shy, come on by!

Love, appreciating moments, your China bound friend/lover/family member…

Ira J Cooper

Each Mile

A Misguided Guide to Cycling the World

Tag Archives: China

a home away from home

Ground Myself in Jiaxing

A Lone Journey to China