Proximity Butterfly (变色蝴蝶)

    

    My mother is in Oman and I am happy to hear that it sounds so fresh and delicate. It is amazing what certain beliefs provide to a condition of living. Yet, as I sit here drinking a cup of coffee here in front of my computer, Starbucks continues making its way around the globe… it happens to be a cup of starbucks I’m drinking. I can almost tatse the Imperialism that stains the brim just below the lip of the mug… Because it was a gift, do I refuse to drink it?

And on the other side of the pan-like cake my sister is drawing closer and closer to having her baby (Jan. 26th). And to be honest, I have no idea what to say about it. It isn’t even as though I don’t have any feelings or thoughts, but they aren’t in words. They’re colors and feelings, tornadoes, and sea breezes… birds on horizons and overlaying images of time lapsed sunsets  and hungry cloud formations. I am definitely feeling for what’s happening despite my oft silence.

We went to a city called Xichang, on the border of Sichuan and Yunnan to do a show last saturday. The area is basically divided into two halves, the Yi Zu and Han Zu. Not many cities have such a balance of majority (Han chinese) and minority (Yi- chinese). People wore colorful headresses and black shirts, amidsts the crowds of people wearing purple jeans and Japanese style fashion gear, big hair, mercedes benzes etc… it was simple to tell which group had what things… The Yi have a heavy drinking problem, which we `noticed in Yunnan two years ago when we worked there with habitat. A guy even introduced hinmself and his friends, including a list of three things that make them who they are, 1) drinking, 2) work, 3) and drinking. Doesn’t seem too different than the waiter waitress crowd in downtown Cleveland. The ceremony, as I like to begin referring to them as, was very very well accepted. People’s eyes were deep, bodies feeling our emotions, experiencing what we laid out to be shared, so by the middle of the show, it seemed as though we were all without a doubt part of every passion and sound that came into the room. It was the beginning of where we imagined our steps should take us.

The weather was a bit cloudy the day after wwe arrived, but our second day of rest cracked the sky and sun showered our faces. We took a small wooden boat across this river about 1/2 mile wide and arrived at some peninsula tht was ready for tourists on a pirate scale, meaning all of the carnival games were things like rolling a basketball down a dirt path to knock over some coconut juice cans. Pellet guns and sand bags. They’d give away in some stalls shoes as prizes. But not a single person was playing the hundred game stalls that were setup. BBq was the prime objective. They had bbq everywhere… even on three person small-boats. In the end we had to take a train back on sunday night, which left at 7pm and would arrive in chengdu at 6am. We only had two tickets for four people. Someone had arranged for us to be escorted onto the train by soldiers, which represent basic immunity with regard to law. On the train we were to buy two more tickets. But the sleeper and sitter tickets don’t permit sitters to visit the sleeping car. I can’t say the sitting car is as bad at the Gandhi movie, but pretty rough. Most people stand or sit and sleep on the floor, where sometimes urine, spit and whatever fluids there might be around layer its surface. The windows open, but because smokers don’t like to be cold, and about 70% of them smoke, it’s  a cancer car for anyone who happens to be in there… we managed to leave our luggage in the sleeping car and take turns sleeping while others watched our stuff.  The way I view it is that being cramped for 11hrs is nothing like being cramped for more than 11hrs… pain and therefore life is relative… and those we share this world with are the same. I could complain and talk about how the conditions need to improve, but it doesn’t change the fact that we have to arrive at our destinations and continue on…