China Posts [through 2 March 2012]
By David Buchalter

5 February 2012
I cried in class today. Ten years' teaching experience--I've taught university & community college students; businesspeople & middle schoolers--and what finally breaks me down? A clutch of five year olds! Teaching them to sing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," I sat cross-legged on the floor. They love to huddle and cuddle, and I always have to remind them not to touch the guitar. But their little faces; their little voices, singing, with little Chinese accents, ". . . a band of an-gels, comin' af-ter me, comin' for to car-ry me hOme . . ." Who could not tear up? I'm the luckiest Jew in China.

Comments on "China Posts"

“I've been reading your posts about life in China... I have to say, they are amazing. Beautifully written, quirky, funny, touching and sometimes a tiny bit dark Just my cup of tea. I really look forward to them. . . .” –Johanna Benotti, 28 February 2012

“your updates get more insightful and inspiring each day you spend in China! Keep up the great work.” –Katie Ka, 24 February 2012

“Haha wow! You have the most interesting things happen to you.” John Calvo, 23 February 2012

“I really enjoy hearing your updates and observations. Happy Wednesday to you.” –Erin Good, 22 February 2012

“. . . love to see that you're out there experiencing humanity and the cultures of the world as you were clearly meant to!” –Douglas Sullivan, 15 February 2012

“amazing story, david. i hope you are writing a lot!” –Eva Romero, 15 February 2012

“. . . the world is a less lonely place because of you.” –Jennifer Petrey-Powlette, 14 February 2012

“I am entertained!” –Bernadette Bennett, 14 February 2012

“When do you return from China? You have lived one amazing life.” –Lou-Ellen Barry, 13 February 2012

“Made my day once again, David. Too much fun!” –Jean Smart, 14 February 2012

“oh, beautiful, David:-)” –Kiara Marcon, 20 February 2012

“. . . definitely the most interesting person I know :)”
–Sharonne Meyerson, 24 January 2012

“You have the awesomest stories, Dave. :-)” –John Calvo, 24 January 2012

“Thank you very much for this thought, David. I really needed this today.” –Ingrid Lindstrom, 16 January 2012

"What a great story - you capture a feeling perfectly, so that others can feel it. I can really feel "you" in it, too." --Kristen Lawson, 1 March 2012

"This is just great! We want the next installment" --Juanita Coulson, 1 March 2012

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CHINA POSTS by Dave Buchalter~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1 March 2012
Big bright smile from the cutest elderly couple you ever saw, when I stood up on the subway today. They were trying to tell me something good. Figuring, rightly, that I couldn't understand much Chinese, they both just gave me the thumbs up. I love how we get to take credit for the values our parents instilled in us, and all the work our Moms and Dads and guardians did to make us polite. I didn't think much about having gotten up, until the thumbs-up couple's eyes told me to turn around. The lady I automatically gave my seat to, a businesswoman in her late fifties, was wearing a skull and crossbones scarf. I did my best to say in Chinese that I dug the skulls, but she didn’t understand. So I had to use gestures. At first, it may have seemed that I was commenting about her chest. Anyway, once that got resolved, and she knew I just liked her skeleton parts, she understood enough about my character to introduce me to the beautiful woman sitting next to her, a young math teacher named Tongxin. That was her daughter. I guess the skull and crossbones meant business, because before I knew it, she was ordering me to give her daughter my pencil so she could write down her number for me. At first, I didn't understand that she wanted my number too, but the elderly man chimed in: "One, two, three!" Only then could I reflect on their smile. I was so caught up in the whole thing that I missed my stop. At the next subway station, I said, "Hujialou?" And Tongxin, with her eyes, suggested I get off right then and there. Everyone’s got skeletons in their closet, I know, so it’s always hard to meet strangers. But I ran out and waved as if I'd just picked up a silk scarf passed down through the generations.


25 February 2012
7AM Wake, whack, walk to work. 9AM Counsel teaching partner: don't give a $hit whose daddy's a VIP, in my classes, all children are treated equally. 9:30AM spend three delightful hours tutoring a very quiet and shy ten-year-old champion swimmer by having her belt out Walt Whitman with me; Chinese teachers gather around to watch. 12:30PM Lunch with the tutoree's parents and the saleswoman who couldn't accept my offer to take her our for a bagel due to boyfriend jealously; midway through lunch, said saleswoman interrupts my pedagogical speech on how I'm teaching the child, to say "you have long--what are these called?" "Eyelashes." "Yes--they are beautiful." 4PM Host an in-school birthday party for fourteen children, ranging in age from twenty-three months to seven years; at one point, a three year old climbs up onto a desk and declares himself the monkey king; at another point, I am bouncing a baby in my arms while leading a chorus of "We are walking, we are walking, walking to the bathroom. . . ." 5pm Sneak a leftover slice of February-birthday birthday cake into the Ai, the school cleaning lady squatted down on the step in the bathroom, folding pairs of children's socks--"Xiexie," she says, "thank you," and I try to explain--but "xiexie, xiexie," she takes it and goes into the back. 5:45PM Give a placement assessment to a five year old, who seems to be a robot. 6PM The Principal thanks me for my hard work, giving me a high-five, just like we give to the children when they do a good job; I feel slightly exploited but then remember my prostitute friends and count my blessings. 9PM In the pool, something cracks in my back and all the tension is released, and I thank the former graduate director of my PhD program for the most important lesson she taught me: kick when you swim. 9:30PM In the showers, a man is helping another man wash his hair; being the second time witnessing this in two days, I make a mental note that China, a country so nominally homophobic is so accepting of homosocial behavior. 9:45PM Drying off, I listen to Chinese echo through the locker room, and it occurs to me that the process of learning to understand the language reminds me of learning to read the old handwriting in a medieval manuscript of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales: at first, you look at the page and are totally blind--you can't make out any of it; but by reading along with a printed transcript, little by little, you train yourself to recognize the patterns--an S looks like this, a sentence fragment sounds like that--and suddenly it all comes together, as in an epiphany. 11:11PM Write this down, as in an epiphany.

24 February 2012
People born with autism may be said to exist outside the matrix. To the extent that they can be trained to fit in, they can function within mainstream society. However, they are conscious of the distance between their own world and the neuro-typical world. This distance is the measure of genius.

16 February 2012
Last night I went to a bar and met Ticonarara, the Captain of an air ship. Tico's from Papua New Guinea, where he had seen cannibalism. He told me his country has 800 different languages. In his family he can only speak his mother tongue with his brother; his wife speaks a different native language, so they communicate in English. His First Officer, Daniel (who goes by "Thirsty Dan"), is from Australia. Thirsty Dan asked me to make him laugh and bought me a fine Belgian beer. I drank half the Kasteel Donker, but then just asked him about headwinds and tailwinds and flight patterns and sleep patterns. He said, at first, it's a little disorienting to fly around the world all the time, because your body doesn't know when to sleep; but eventually you get used to it, you get your "air legs." Tico got a text from his wife, who told him in plain English she was pissed that he'd forgotten Valentine's Day; I wondered if the time zones could help him in this situation, but I think he'd probably maxed out that excuse years ago. His face was weathered, but he was still adventurous; without meeting him, I never would have known Odysseus was a black man. They both talked about getting a rope, so they could tether themselves and go out on a frozen river, somewhere close to Tienanmen, I imagine. I couldn't believe they were actually going to go out on the ice at night; I thought they were joking. I started laughing and almost spilled half my beer, but they were serious; the Captain explained: "No ice where we're from, mate."

14 February 2012
Without a date on Valentine's Day, I went out for pizza with my fellas. On the way back from the subway, I decided to stop off at the marketplace to buy fruit and say hello to my sex-worker friends. It had been a long time--I hadn't seen Jei or LeiLei since Chinese New Year--and when Jei saw me, she ran up to me and gave me a hug and took me by the hand. Her hand was warm. It felt nice, because my hand was cold. The place where they stand is a meat market in the daytime, and from the dark shadows along the boarded-up shacks, a few smiling voices said, "Hello, Da-wid!" I went up to each of the other prostitutes and offered them my little oranges and grapes, which I'd just bought from the fruit man. Jei led me by the hand to the opening of little alleyway, and she ran down it to find LeiLei, her pimp/brother. But LeiLei wasn't around. I couldn't understand where he was. I spoke to some other pimps and offered them little oranges. Then I left to buy some bottles of water. The water man said they were frozen and asked if I still wanted them. I said "mei guanxi," no problemo. He went to the back, where his wife and child slept, and returned with two frozen bottles of water. When I went back to say goodbye, Jei was gone. I felt sorry for her, because she didn't have a date on Valentine's Day; but I felt even sorrier for the customer who took her away, because I don't think he'll ever feel the warmth of her hand as I did.

9 February 2012
We come up against an insurmountable gate, and I throw myself into despair.
I hear you laugh and say, "No, silly, like this--"
and you lift the latch with lightheartedness, and we go through together.
But first, I must pick myself up and find an opening to slip this message through. For my love I wait alone on the first side of that great gate.
--From THE GREAT WALL OF WAILING

5 February 2012
I cried in class today. Ten years' teaching experience--I've taught university & community college students; businesspeople & middle schoolers--and what finally breaks me down? A clutch of five year olds! Teaching them to sing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," I sat cross-legged on the floor. They love to huddle and cuddle, and I always have to remind them not to touch the guitar. But their little faces; their little voices, singing, with little Chinese accents, ". . . a band of an-gels, comin' af-ter me, comin' for to car-ry me hOme . . ." Who could not tear up? I'm the luckiest Jew in China.

30 January 2012
Ghostlets orbing around on spit-freeze pavement,
I look up and catch red-handed the source:
Chinese lanterns, two of them, each bedangled
with golden tassels, haunting the wind
like charm bracelets of the Third World.

26 January 2012
Last night I was at the small club where I played a few of my songs before. The owner invited me to play a few more. This time, there was a famous guitar player in the club; Gao Fei is known throughout China. When I was playing "Lookin' Like Louise," Gao Fei came up on stage and played bass. He was amazing. After, I looked at him and said, "That was an honor," and he just looked at me, and shook his head and said, with a smile, in Chinese, something like: "I have no idea what the hell you just said."

24 January 2012
Got a massage from a couple of peanut farmers last night. I said my back was hurting, so my friend's father threw me on the bed and flipped me over, while her mother started kneading my vertebral column. Then we all went out for karaoke, and no one was uncomfortable. As we were walking out, the mother noticed some peanuts on the table and said in her dialect, "Put these in your pocket." And so I did, thinking to myself, "You work for peanuts, and you're so generous with them."

22 January 2012
Everyone goes home to be with their families for Chinese New Year, but I don't have anywhere to go. Today at noon, my boss, with a big smile, said, "You can go home early!" I said, "I'm happy to go early, but sad, because this is my China family." And then she said, "Well maybe after I come back I will have a dinner and invite--" but then she looked me in the eyes, and, perhaps sensing my belief in her words, stopped herself. So now I'm on a break, and I don't know what to do with myself, except write these words to my Facebook family. Maybe the words are my home. Take them in?

20 January 2012
Google Voice transcribes voice messages so you can read them as emails, but sometimes it errs. I just got this message transcription:
"The law requires me to satisfy you."

17 January 2012
I just found some fine print on my work contract, that I didn't see when I signed it: "The employee may also be required to participate in some slave-labor activities." But today at the forced company party, the vice president handed me a stuffed dragon and said, "happy new year!" And that has made all the difference.

16 January 2012
COLLEAGUE: We Chinese think that Westerners have sex before they are married, and this is very very bad.
I: To get to know someone very well, someone very special to you--to show them that you love them--to touch their body, to hug them and kiss them, to wake up with them and have breakfast with them, to care so deeply about them that you want to share everything with them--to share yourself with them and for them to share the same with you: if this is bad, then yes, we Westerners are very, very, very bad indeed.


D.S.B. Beijing, 2012