carpe annum

It is unavoidable. It is the eternal game between predator and prey. When a friendly guy of about my age approaches me in the middle of Tiananmen Square, instantly the fishdar goes off. The fishdar is my sensory organs’ combined detection of all things fishy. While at first we exchange niceties (where we are from, what we do), he goes on to explain that he is an “art student” and that his class is displaying artwork at a “gallery” and that perhaps I would like to see some art- -free of cost, no less. At this point we magically had veered off my intended course and arrived near the eastern side of the square in front of some large museum. He explains that the gallery is being held in a side room of the National Museum. At this point, his story gained some legitimacy; what scam operation could be run out this stolid institution? Oh yes, and today is the last day of the exhibition of course, so it would be impossible to come back later….of course….

As I enter the gallery, my dutiful host shows me several large paintings by his teacher, and to be fair, they are quite beautiful scenes of classical Chinese landscapes. Similar to what you would imagine if someone told you to conjure up Chinese art. Impressive. We make a beeline to his four contributions to the gallery. He explains, his English being quite good having brought hundreds of victims before me, that his four paintings represent scenes from the four seasons…blah blah blah. At this point a gentle looking girl excuses herself to hand me a cup of tea. Yes, butter me up some more please. I catch a glance at the “madame” at a large table with a cash box and calculator. Ah yes, I think to myself, I will just play along and wait for the hook. As I feign interest in the art I’m being shown, I think about how the paintings were most likely produced–probably in some sweatshop with a big bare-chested man pounding a big deer-skin drum. Playing along, when the time comes, I learn that since today is the “last day,” I have the unique opportunity to purchase these handsome wares. The price is not much, about $8 for most of the works, slightly more for the larger formats. I glance again at the madame at the large table and think I see a forked tongue as she speaks to invite me over to her. At this point, I really want to get to the Forbidden City, my original intended destination. But then it is as if I am not in control of my thoughts, and I reach for my wallet and order two prints…”What is going on?” I think to myself as my hands pull out a 100 yuan bill. My fishdar is being jammed!!! The ophidian madame rolls my purchases into a long green box to protect the precious art. As I exit the gallery, which shows no signs of shutting down later in the day, my fishdar returns and my nostrils fill with the smell of rancid, rotting trout. To this day I have no idea what sophisticated fishdar jamming technology those “art students” have, but I do know that it works.

It is somehow unavoidable for a tourist in China to be hunted. That night as I return to my hostel, I see my bunk mate has the same green box as me. When asked, we confirm our fishdars were both jammed and laugh it off. Ha Ha Ha. Ah well, once in a while, the predator deserves a kill.

And now the big question, what to do with my art? Hey mom, want one?

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Well folks, its all over…and the underdog wins. But with Jan Ullrich and Ivan Basso out of the race, Floyd Landis wasn’t quite the underdog, but it is nonetheless exciting to see a guy who needs a new hip battle it out for the premier prize in cycling. What’s more, from all accounts, Floyd is a really decent, modest guy; it’s nice to see that the prima donna ego-maniacs don’t rule all sports.

This year, I watched the final stage on the ground and found myself a primo spot on the northeast corner of the course right in front of Le Louvre. Despite the fact that I had to stand and save my spot for three hours it was worth it and the electricity in the crowd/mob was pretty cool.

I’ll also say its been an interesting transition from China to France. Whereas China seems to lack a certain degree of sophistication in favor of pragmatism, France embodies classic sophistication where elegance and style may often overshadow common sense. Not to say one is better than the other, but rather it was a refreshing change after a month in China. Though the sidelines of the course were no doubt packed with people, it was a civil place where people don’t step all over you and respect the fact that the square foot of ground that you are standing on is yours by virtue of your presence and you don’t continuously have to silently battle fifty other people. The same scene in China would’ve certainly been pandemonium with tramplings galore, especially if the caravan is tossing out free goodies…

What has been especially nice is meeting up with the LaRochelle family and entourage. These guys are great and meeting up with them makes me miss the good old days in Rockland, Maine. Thanks again for everything you guys! (pics)

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I know its been quite a while since my last post, but only because I have been filling the days with epic treks, bus rides, flights, and meanderings. I would have to say that the high point of this trip is definately “Tiger Leaping Gorge” which is the gorge carved out by the Yangtze river in southwestern China near the border of Burma. It is simply amazing and the hike along its side took 2 days and even still I only trekked a portion of it. Photos are forth coming as I have yet to find a place to upload relatively quickly. I seriously wish I could have stayed longer in the green mountiains hugged by the clouds and reachable only by foot or hoof.

Alas, I had to catch a bus back to Kunming (8 hours) and then a quick flght (3 hours) to China’s gem city of ‘progress’ –Shanghai. Thanks to my good buddy Saku who conveniently is living in Shanghai for two months on an internship I have a comfortable, if not luxurious place to rest my head, even if it is on the floor. And here, my work in earnest begins as I arrange interviews with experts on agriculture and the organic food movemement here in China. My first stop was at China’s first organic retail market, Ostore. There I had a delicious lunch in their bistro and met with the general manager on the domestic organic consumer scene. As you could imagine, the concept is generally foreign to domestic shoppers and remains way out of your everday Chinese consumer’s price range. About 70% of the store’s patrons are expats and the rest fairly wealthy Shanghainese. Most domestic production is in non-perishables (dried beans, nuts, seeds, tea) and is oriented towards export markets. As such, to meet their demand for produce, they have actually started their own farm to supply fruit and veg. Tomorrow, I’ll go off to survey that farm and the next day head to Nanjing for an interview at the certifier for China’s organic foods, and a German expat who helped bring organic farming to China. Anyways, I have already gotten a hold of a lot of good material and am feeling confident about writing up a good paper.

So Shanghai, I have to say I’m not all that impressed. Sure the city is clean and there are skyscrapers and massive apartment blocks shooting up everywhere. The air is cleaner than Beijing and their are traffic wardens at the intersections to keep some pretense of law and order among the carelessly aggressive drivers. But once you see the endless array of department stores, KFCs, and glass office buildings, it just seems like that is all. No doubt Shanghai planners have succeeded in designing and building a thriving economic metropolis with the foresight and power that will cement Shanghai as China’s shrine to its capitalist modernization. To be fair, I have been here a week and obviously I haven’t seen the “real” Shanghai–only the tourist Shanghai–and I have not really ventured into the backalleys away from the city center. But even still, there must be more to a world-class city than just big buildings, malls and grand boulevards.

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Discover Dali and the Cangshan Mountains…now this is why I came to China.

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