hungry, thirsty, and gotta piss 2

August 6, 2008

Three days much the same – start my nebulous Olympics work in the morning, explore Beijing sites in the humid heat of the day (Olympic venue research), try to prepare for a job which still lacks any description. Afternoon crawls into evening, hope and hope for an early release from work, move toward the exit once the OK is given.

I carry a second backpack each day with a complete set of clothes and shoes for practice – just in case my work schedule allows it. Liu Laoshi is exceedingly kind and understanding and is basically on standby, waiting for my call each day…Yes, I can go….No, I cannot make it tonight…

First three days were all go. Race through the madness of Beijing transportation during the Olympics (a taxi – subway with three transfers – bus combination works the best, about 90 minutes one way) and then hustle through the park once I arrive. And there he is, waiting in his usual place, sipping tea in the evening breeze.

Yes, by the time I get there it is evening, past evening in fact and on into night. Each day I arrive in the same condition: have not eaten dinner, am quite thirsty, and need to use the restroom. Pissing is taken care of easily enough, and we start each lesson by sitting, chatting, and sipping hot water. The hunger is soon forgotten once in motion.

Each lesson feels too short. It is full and fulfilling in every way, but I want more. It is early in my one-month stay in Beijing, but already I fear it will pass too quickly and I will leave wishing I had found more time, even one more lesson, with Liu Laoshi.

It is dark by the time we finish and the breeze is wonderful each time we sit down for a short break. He is pushing me hard, but not into total exhaustion. I am covered in sweat within the first few minutes. The breaks are welcome, but I don’t want to waste a minute. But this is part of it – learning to relax, to slow down and not be driven to fill every minute. The tea-shop man waits for us to finish as usual, then helps us clear up the chairs and table.

Liu Laoshi guides me through the park to the back exit (open later than the others) and we separate near my bus stop. He says to call him the next day, anytime is OK. And off he fades into to the darkness. I dodge all manner of vehicles while crossing the street and let out a huge sigh once on the bus. Finishing this late at night has one more good point: a guaranteed seat on the bus.

I scribble post-practice notes as we wind through the Beijing night, grateful for the breeze coming in the windows as we move. At Hepingmen, I get out and re-fuel with beer and cheap-and-delicious Sichuan-lite fast food (nowhere nearly as spicy as the real stuff, but just right for me). Three subways later I arrive at Haidian Huangzhuang for a long walk back to the hotel.

Along the way, I stop and watch my newfound wushu friends. They practice on the sidewalk quite late every night. We exchanged nods the first night, words the second, and demos thereafter. Much more to come on this group…

The final stop before the hotel: a second refueling, with beer and chuar (various foods boiled on skewers). That provides enough energy to get me home, showered, internetted and into bed for the most needed recharging: sleep.