How to begin to fill in all that we've been up to since the last post? A lot of exploring, which is generally centered around a different subway stop each time. One stop west, toward the end of the line in the Mudu direction, lies Jinfeng, where the first supermarket we frequented, Vanguard, rises above a 24-hour KFC with a fleet of delivery bikes parked outside like lounging herbivores. Entering the building, passing the line coin-slot airplanes and cars that bounce screaming children up and down as their parents look on with amusement, one sees that as with many large buildings in China, the primary occupant lets out space to smaller enterprises who line the halls on the way to the larger Vanguard, from clothing stores to stalls in the middle of the hall full of jade pendants, or one devoted entirely to displaying a thousand and one Zippos. Vanguard is two long floors, reached by a sloped plane of rubber sliding forever onward, like the conveyer belts in airports but angled up or down. The top floor holds housewares, and includes whole aisles of dried meats and fruits, hundreds of bowls to choose from but only one kind of plate, many rice cookers but only a single toaster brand. It is defined both by what it has and what it lacks. Downstairs is full of food, and the bewildering array of Mandarin on every package makes it sometimes difficult to find things we recognize. The produce department is sprawling, but full of fruits and vegetables we do not know, shaped like spiky cannonballs and bull-hearts. We are only now able to distinguish through experimentation and research what some of these things are, and happily finding many of them to be delicious. The meat department has its slabs of flesh out in the open air, surrounded by the powerful smell muscle tissue, and the dozens of types of fish are either dead and on piles of ice in baskets, or alive and swimming in tanks, some species all wallowing upside down in their small cubes of glass. Once while we were there a large fish jumped up and almost out of the tank, shocking Soph and nearly making Jack fall over backwards. Not long after this surprise an employee walked up with some half melted ice of unknown origin and offered some of the grimy chips to the kids, which I kindly refused just in time - though he looked confused as to why anyone would decline such a treat. There seem to be some kids who live in the store while their parents are there at work, and whenever we go there's always one or two of them following us around, either on a monowheel skateboard, or chewing a handful of free samples like cud and making faces at us. They are sweet, and usually stay on our tails until we reach the checkout line, at which point they roll away or head back to the samples. The freezer section is also interesting, since just about the only things in the extensive four-lane area are different brands of frozen dumplings. Happily, but not without a twinge of nostalgia, we are now post-Vanguard. This is because one subway stop east, at Yushan rd., there is a brand new, multi-million dollar Japanese shopping center called Izumiya, in which everything from Gucci bags to Henkel knives to frozen pizzas to a hot cheeseburger can be had. Cheeses, salamis, German beers, sushi, and refrigerated eggs in cartons are all available, and the reassuring feel of the place is certainly a boon. There is a big section for children's toys from brands that we know do not lead to cretinism or tumors, which is also a good thing, though they cost about twice as much as comparable items in the U.S. Having just visited for the first time yesterday, we are likely to be shopping there more often in the future. Another shopping foray, prior to our discovery of Izumiya, was to the old staple of expatriates in China, Carrefour. I used to shop there when I lived in Hangzhou years ago, and liked that from time to time I could get some brie or whatever familiar taste I needed to fuel the adventure. In this case, it seems like the Chinese way has taken over, for I remembered a Greenlife-sized store with a nice selection of imported food, but when we got there, about a kilometer south of the Xiyuan subway stop, we found ourselves in the largest bonanza of everything imaginable that any of us had ever seen. It stretched on and on and on, the main central aisle literally going out of sight amidst the ceiling spangled with discount posters and adverts. It took us so long to explore the place we got thirsty before we made it out. At the checkout, a man who was bagging our groceries stopped me and asked if I would give him my phone number because he wanted to practice his English. These are some of the shopping adventures we've been having over the last couple weeks.

The two main cultural/historic excursions we've had recently were to the Beike (stone stele) museum and the site of Hanshan Temple, where the revered and brilliant Tang-dynasty poet Hanshan was reportedly Abbot in the 600's. The stele museum was completely empty, but housed a beautiful and broad selection of stone tablets ranging across a swath of history, as well as numerous Bonsai, all of which can be viewed in the associated album. Hanshan temple, though severely crowded with tourists, retained an atmosphere of reverence, with the poet's works on the walls, ponds with Coi and turtles turning languidly in the water, courtyards framing the sky and bamboo meshing the vistas and rock formations with their abstract spires, all centered around the towering five story pagoda - a truly beautiful building with scalloped shingles slanting down to upturned ends. As a working monastery, orange-robed monks crossed the halls between throngs of tourists, carrying small segments of silence with them. The rear entrance to the temple was guarded by twelve-foot-tall golden statues of vengeful-looking deities wielding weapons, and separate altars to varied holy individuals were offset from the main thoroughfares, where people could be seen kneeling in prayer from time to time. Also interesting was the way the trees in the courtyards were bedecked with red ribbons - appeals to the higher beings offered up by the devout. A central incense cart smoked continuously, lending the entire scene a hazy and mysterious air. We found a small corner of the complex where there were absolutely no tourists, and enjoyed a few moments of peace before a cute Chinese family tracked us down and asked to take pictures with us. Once, when I left Meg and the kids to snap a photo in an alcove that was not stroller accessible I returned to find them surrounded by a mass of thirty or more Chinese women, all huddled so close and snapping away like mad between comments of "piao lang!" and "so butiful!" I smiled and waved and remaining calm, slowly extracted the family unit from the morass.

Don't have a much time to really get into the details here, just wanted to give everyone an update on the last few days. Needless to say, we are getting more comfortable, and have spent much of the time ironing out the kinks in the living arrangements. I will begin an extra gig introducing a preschool class to "real" school next week, just an hour a day for five days, with pay that is triple what I received for similar services in the states.

To end, a few of the many excellent poems by Hanshan seem like a good punctuation mark on this entry:

1.

I spur my horse past ruins;

ruins move a traveler's heart.

The old parapets high and low

the ancient graves great and small,

the shuddering shadow of a tumbleweed,

the steady sound of giant trees.

But what I lament are the common bones

unnamed in the records of immortals.

2.

Brothers share five districts;

father and sons three states.

To learn where the wild ducks fly

follow the white-hare banner!

Find a magic melon in your dream!

Steal a sacred orange from the palace!

Far away from your native land

swim with fish in a stream!