NBA and the questionable bathroom

[what follows are my recollections of visiting kang and his family in hengpi about 3 weeks ago. i know this is a long entry, but i feel that i'm just starting to learn how to record my thoughts in this format. i hope the length doesn't deter anyone from finishing it in full]

when i met kang, he and his father were eating breakfast at the table next to me. his father motioned me to join them, and i accepted by planting my bottom in one of the pink plastic chairs surrounding the rickety folding table. kang had on an outfit similar to what professional basketball players wear while they're on the bench: matching sweat pants, jacket, and basketball shoes. (at the time, little did i know how much he loved the NBA.) his father was sporting thong sandals, khakis and a collared shirt. i was decked out in dirty and stained light-weight backpacking cargo pants (my only pair) and a green sweater. both men asked me about my trip and i took out my map to show them where i had traveled from--and where i was traveling to.

with smiles and laughs, kang translated for his father in broken english. we talked awhile, but i don't recall our conversation--all i remember is his father continually telling me to "eat more, eat more" and occassionaly taking the liberty to put food in my bowl. hypersensitive about staying healthy, i worried about how sanitary it was for him to serve me with his chop sticks....i reluctantly gobbled down the meat, steamed vegetables and rice porridge that most people have for breakfast.

(i would later realize that it is customary for your host to serve you food)

kang and his father invited me to have dinner with his family and to stay another night. excited to have made my first friends, i gladly excepted. the sky eased open and allowed a slow drizzle to pass through the thick haze of pollution (pumped out from nearby concrete factories) and splattered down on to the dirt and rocky streets of hengpi. confined to kang's family store, our hopes to play basketball faded. kang's father left (on his sparkling red motorbike) to work on his chicken, pig and duck farm located on the outskirts of town.

the store reminded me of a small mini-mart you would find in the states. packaged goods, plastic coke bottles, stacks of toilet paper, cigarette boxes, liquor, shampoo, and other sorts of commodities lined the shelves. just outside, a plastic/cloth awning, supported by bamboo, defended more goods from the pitiful drizzle.

kang told me to take a seat, and he turned on the tv. plastic chairs and a large, polished wooden bench presented themselves as options. i opted for the bench given that it offered a more direct line of sight to the new TV, braced high on the opposite wall. after flicking through the channels, he found american basketball highlights from the previous day. over the next couple hours, we sat and gazed up at the glimmering box, occasionally stopping to converse about an awesome slam dunk or tragic dribbling mistake.

kang's little brother and friends giggled, poking their heads around the corner of the large doorway to get a glimpse of the white man. a few people came into the store to buy cigarettes or soap; kang attended to the business transactions. my feet nervously scratched the dirty concrete floor. boredom and insecurity crept in.

i don't actually like watching tv--especially sports--and i didn't want to offend my host. i also felt added pressure because i somehow felt compelled to pretend that i knew the teams and the players, and that watching them excited me. why was i trying to pretend to be someone i am not? maybe i was playing the role of the stereotypical, normal american man i thought society--and kang--expected me to be. that was the safe thing to do--or at least it felt like it. i finally found a way to be halfway honest with my host--and myself--and told kang that i preferred playing games rather than watching them. and then i told him that i didn't have a tv at my house in america; he gave me a puzzled look and asked: "why?"

i struggled to find a way to explain to him that i like "doing things"...or errr...how to explain.... . i was frustrated and confused. with my rear getting sore from such an unfamiliar and awkward seat, i adjusted my posture and position and said: "in america, there are lots of people who spend all day watching tv, and i feel that if i do that, i'm missing out on the opportunity to do so many other activities with my life". and even though i secretly wanted to do something--anything--else, i finished by saying: "but this is ok, i like watching tv too". either i didn't want to lose my companion, or i couldn't be honest with myself. maybe it was both.

i tried to make conversation, but it was difficult. kang's pronunciation was poor, and his vocabulary limited. i often found myself trying to define key words to understanding my question or comment, but i would soon give up noticing kang's subtle frustration or disinterest, indicated by his occasional glances up to the tv.

i managed to find out that kang is 19 and going to college to become an architect. he was off from school for the spring celebration (or chinese new year). he said he wasn't doing well in school. i inquired whether he had lived in hengpi his whole life. he said his family moved there thirteen years ago, but he didn't know why. i asked him what would happen to his father's farm when he needed to retire. he said that the farm was just to make money, and that he wouldn't take it over. his family was putting him through school so that he could "become part of society". his answer burned into my heart.

i traveled to china under the impression that with china's borders recently opened to globalization, "western" culture, economics and (most importantly) products have begun to captivate many chinese people. part of this change includes an accelerating transition from an agrarian-based economy to an industrial one. people move from the farms to the city. in my mind there are two big downsides when this happens. first, people give up a great deal of autonomy in the realms of production. meaning, you can't just live off the land by yourself; you become prey to the social hierarchy of bosses and companies who provide you with your main source of sustenance: a paycheck. this in turn gets you those packaged goods at the supermarket once previously harvested at home. and in that process people lose a democratic claim over how commodities are produced. whereas before you could control whether or not you use pesticides on your strawberries, you now are left out of that decision process. second, families often get split up.

in my own life, i have seen family and friends scattered across the country for economic or job-related reasons. and i also feel pressured at the grocery store when i can't buy something without it being wrapped in five layers of plastic.

but how could i convey all these thoughts and feelings to kang? and would it even be appropriate if i could? hypocritical self-awareness silenced me. i come from a very much privileged--even elite--place of society (heck, i'm getting payed tens of thousands of dollars to pedal a bicycle through other countries). so how can i ethically criticize someone born into poverty just because he wants "a better life"?

(this conundrum and others have occupied my thoughts for many miles. it's a thought process provoked by many interactions with kang, jia hao and johnny. and it brings me close to conclusions i know conflict with many of your political practices or ways of life. maybe it's been hard for me to write because i'm afraid of that tension. but i'm riding my bike around the world not in search of solidarity--i'm actively seeking out that friction. so here we go, i hope the sparks don't catch any fires and that you will keep with me).

bam! boom! pow! pow! pow! pow! pow! chinese firecrackers worked up a smokey frenzy in the streets outside. i covered my ears to protect them from the violent sound waves beating into the room. and while the explosions continued on endlessly, i sat in my muted world, forced to retreat into myself. overwhelmed, i searched for a reason to escape my afternoon engagement.

"kang; i'm tired. i want to go rest in my motel room."

after giving into his persistent attempts to provide me with an umbrella and practically making me promise i would return for dinner, i escaped outside into toasted air.

back at my room, i faced another daunting problem. the identity of the bathroom was under question and my bowels needed some quick resolution. the "bathroom" consisted of an elevated concrete enclosure in the corner of the room. steps leading up to the open doorway brought me to a slightly moldy, tiled floor with....something...in the center. that something was made of porcelain. it kind of looked like an inverted urinal face up and inlayed with the tile floor.

my thoughts: was that the toilet? hmmmm. perhaps. but could it really be? i know my friends warned me, but they didn't really describe it.... if it isn't a toilet and i use it as such, what will be the consequences? or if i choose a safer route and consult the family operating the motel....no, that wouldn't work. imagine trying to inquire--without the use of language--whether someone should poop into something. that would be waaaaaaay too embarrassing. there's a shower head here....so maybe the porcelain device is just the drain. hmmm, no that can't be. it's far too big. ok, well, i guess i'm just going to have to give it a try and figure it out as i go. (extra details deleted)

later, i returned to kang's house. we sat down on tiny wooden stools and feasted mostly on unidentified yet tastey meat dishes. kang's father grinned widely. he kept saying how happy he was to have me as his guest. i returned the compliments, but it seemed that kang's translations were only going one way. kang's grandfather entered the room and joined us. he was hunched over, probably from doing hard labor his entire life. "eat more, eat more" was used to break the occasional silence. kang's youngest brother (about 5 years old) imitated his father and started putting meat in my bowl. i was eating food as fast as i could. i commented on how expensive meat can be in america, and how wealthy i thought they were for having so many dishes. they laughed, and we continued chewing, swallowing and spitting bones back out on the table.

i asked kang and his father what they thought of america. kang interpreted his father's response with: "my father says america likes to make war. he doesn't like war." i told him i thought i was in good company, as i too am not a proponent of wars. after we finished eating, kang and i exchanged our contact information. his father assured that we would be brothers for life.

kang ushered me into the store/tv room where his siblings, cousins, mother, aunts, uncles and friends sat and stood about the tv watching the chicago bulls play basketball. people cleaned their teeth with toothpicks, others smoked cigarettes, and one man toked tobacco from a homemade bamboo bong. all eyes were glued to the tv. releived i would be leaving tomorrow
(and escaping the magnetic draw of the modern box), i felt content to ignore my conscience and withdraw into an idling state of mind.