Loud Thoughts

Mel recently blogged something that stirred up old memories.

Colored Factoids:

• Each year, US Government allows 65,000 H1-B visas: a necessity for any foreigner to work in the US legally. High-tech companies snatch them up so quickly like kids do to the new Harry Potter book — they waited eagerly for the opening day and flood in the applications. These companies could not find enough skilled workers in the country and must rely on foreigners to stay competitive. Every one of those visa applicants is a highly paid employee who buys houses, pays taxes, attends PTA meetings, and abides laws as good citizens. They usually settle down and melt into the pot. Many of them went on to build successful businesses. H1-B visas generate so much wealth for the country that US government wants less of them.
• For China, and many other countries too, the US government now requires 1-month, with proof of travel, lead time for business travel visas. An in-person interview is a must. It usually takes days to arrange this interview and hours of waiting. If you live in a city without an embassy, you will need to make travel arrangement for this interview. Just for the inconvenience, company executives now avoid US destinations for business meetings.

  These executives stay in 5-star hotels and play golfs. They and their entourage spend lots of money during those trips: air-fare, car rentals, hotel, entertainment, power-lunches, shopping, etc. These trips are so lucrative that US government wants less of them.

• For normal tourists, the process is equally gruesome, with additional insult and disrespect added. The interviewing process assume all applicants are either terrorist or will jump-ship after they enter the country. The profiling pattern is obvious: single women are usually denied, since they will try to marry an American or get engaged in, huh, profitable but not legal businesses; elders are not good, they will cling on their kids and suck the social welfare provided by the generous US government. No significant assets in China? Clearly you are not coming back. Hesitant in answering the questions? You are hiding something. Not fluent in English? Why are you going then? Very fluent? You have been preparing this. Why?

  Sigh, sigh, sigh. Would this process really deter real terrorists? Are their easier ways to become an illegal immigrant than submitting a visa application for tourism? The US government seems to want less tourists, at least not from shopping mania countries like China.

• The US is experiencing historically high trade inbalance. They imported way more than exported. Letting foreigners into the country to spend money may help. Do you think?
• Recently, President Bush attempted the new immigration bill that, among other objectives, will legalize about 100 millions illegal immigrants who are already in the country.

The US does not want people who can generate domestic wealth or bring money into the country to spend. It treats everyone either as a terrorist suspect or one so envious of US lifestyle to jump ship. The government erects filters that keep out those it should welcome and allows those it dose not.

Is this puzzling to you too?

Every Chinese is part Confucist, part Taoist, and part Buddhist. The ingredients change fluidically. At work, for career, Confucism’s strict social protocols prevail. At heart, deeply, there is the desire to be harmonical with the nature: just let it be. Lastly, for justice, the belief that everything has its cause and will be paid back bring much needed solace.

Confucius, LaoZi, and Buddha

Officially, Master ZHANG DaoLing (张道陵: 34~156) organized the ancient religion into Taoism in year 142.

There is really no telling how TaiChi Quan originated. The first official documentation appeared ~200 years ago by WANG ZongYue (王宗岳).

Taoism started about a thousand year ago to pursue longevity, even eternal life. For few hundred years, they focused on alchemy — searching for the elixir of youth. Then Taoists gradually turned their attention to Qi (氣: Chi, like the Force in StarWars): the way to achieve total harmony and to harness energy that enables teleporting, telekenetics, flying, and, of course, longevity.

Mastering Qi seems simple; it is about mind control. When you have control of your mind, you will harness universe’s energy. Grand masters can move mountains like Yoda, or any good Jedi master.

Like Buddhists, Taoists practice mind control through meditation and physical exercises: control your mind via body. Over generations, the masters developed a few exercises that work.
One of those is TaiChi Quan (太极拳) — probably the most popular exercise in China and around the world. After hundreds of years, this art branched out to many denominations. In 1956, China government simplified and consolidated them into a 24-move version (24式太极拳). I learned it summer of 2006 and have been practicing it. It is magical.

To an observer, TaiChi looks more like a slow dance than a martial art. The slowness heightens the precision. Moves are not motion blurs, but exact and purposeful. In actual application, i.e. fighting, TaiChi masters move in lightening speed. All you can see is the opponents flying off far away.

As I practice the moves, sometime there is a sensation as if I am holding a ball of warm air right outside of my chest. This body of energy wiggles like a water balloon — sometime leaking out and tickling my finger tips. Parts of my body — fingers, abdomen, and forehead — will get warm. I noticed the stance, moves, and the nothingness of my mind affect how strongly the sensation is. TaiChi becomes a practice of ridding all thoughts and keeping a totally blank mind.

Taoism and Buddhism are, probably not coincidentally, similar, at least for a beginner like me. Through meditation or exercises, one gets the peace of mind. With that, Nirvana and longevity become possible. Or they don’t matter anymore.

Ever since I came to China, I have a chauffeur. Mr. Bai is nothing like Sabrina Fairchild’s father or Kato for Green Hornet. He is quiet, reliable, and knowledgeable of this city. With him doing the point A to point B, I enjoy attending to conference calls, working on my email, getting dropped off at the entrance, or dozing off with my iPod; somehow, I miss driving.

I remember, when I drove everyday, getting despaired of my appointment, fighting with fatigue, or looking for the non-existent parking spot. I am more than happy not to have those ever again. I miss having a private conversation with someone close, singing out along the radio, being alone with my own thoughts, exploring the new route, and the romantic spontaneity that is possible when I am behind the wheel.

Nine months after I got my driver’s license, I drove the first time in Beijing this weekend: and liked it.

Many of Beijing’s drivers are professional. They move like predators in a prairie — weaving through cars, pushing across lanes, and gobbling up safety margins to the heart-attack level. You swallow the anger, shake your head on these bullies, and try to let it go.

Parking in-town is as maddening as San Francisco, Manhattan, or London. Curb-side parking spaces are all managed. As you approach, the attendant telepathically sense your intention to park. He, or she, will quickly point out the spot for you, usually possible only for the master parallel parkers. No matter, the attendant will stop the traffic and give you all kinds of helps. He will magically appear the moment you intend to leave and politely collect the fees: about 1 to 5 rmbs per hour.

Passengers in my car are frequently bewildered, “You don’t yield to pedestrians here. The driver behind you will get mad at you. And you will never get across.”
I heard many people from all over the world will visit Beijing soon. I bet they are used to cars yielding to pedestrians wherever they came from.

Changes begin with one individual. And I got across. Didn’t I?

As a novice in poetry, I am easily impressed. I knew these are famous poems that people have analyzed, praised, and been deeply moved by.

And I will join them.

Autumn Begins In Martins Ferry, Ohio

In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
Dreaming of heroes.

All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home.
Their women cluck like starved pullets,
Dying for love.

Therefore,
Their sons grow suicidally beautiful
At the beginning of October,
And gallop terribly against each other's bodies.

James Wright

Americans then, probably still now, went to sport events to escape from their lives, their miserable and hopeless lives. They have dreams and they see those dreams in their sons who play high-school football. High school is pretty much the end of their formal education. The allure of those dreams even kept them away from their wives.

James Wright impressed those hopeless lives on my heart that I cannot shake off for days. I re-read this poem many times. The power of the words pounds on me. The last 4 lines grew in weight every time I read them. That “therefore” became a trapdoor to sink a deeper and deeper sadness.

What a master poet.

The ceremony begins precisely at sunrise and last exactly 127 seconds. In the dark, when we arrived, a few hundred people have formed a long queue, waiting. When the guard signals the square is open — officially an hour before dawn — the crowd trailed in and bee lined toward the flag pole. People accumulated in front of a short-fence distancing the pole about 10 meters away, like a physics experiment of magnetism. Uniformed security guards are few paces away: stood motionlessly. A patrol car floats back and forth, blasting recorded message on order and theft prevention. The sky is still black.

Hordes of people came in waves. Many of them wearing a same-color baseball hat and herded by a little flag. Many more do not seem to belong to any organized groups. Mass transportation has not started operating yet. Where do these people come from? I guesstimate at least 6,000 here.

Sky turned grey and street lights went off all of the sudden. Rowdy and drunk teenagers sobered up and got absorbed into the anxious population. That barf-into-grass young guy struggled to look respectful. (Why did he came at all?) Everyone sensed something is about to happen and cranked their necks toward the same direction. The speakers suddenly blasted out an anthem. The red national flag went up the pole slowly. Hundreds of digital camera screens lit up.

127 seconds later, it was over. Cars zoomed on.
A team of vendors, triggered by the unspoken signal, sprinted across the wide street, jumped into the square and attacked the dissipating crowd, “Kites? stamps? flags? post-cards?” City is now officially awake.

May 26, 2007. Sunrise at 4:51am in Beijing, TianAnMen Square.