Substantiating, for you, dear reader (of which I think there are still about 6? Bonjour!) the enormousness and opulence of things we saw in China is like trying to contain the ocean in a porcelain teacup.
When an emperor ordered something built (which he {they} did, often, and consistently for many centuries) he meant build it massive. After all, the gods couldn’t see it if it was too small, and it wouldn’t impress other governments, or the ladies, either. It seemed no money was spared in the construction of …well, anything. And how cool is it that things built thousands of years ago still stand – that we could walk where the ancients walked, in some cases on the very cobblestones, and peek inside a window of their lives?
Answer: very cool indeed.
Time spent wandering in the Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square, and the Ming Tombs, among other things, lent itself nicely to imagining the people behind the show. How early they got up every morning. What their favorite snacks were. On what criteria they chose their concubines. Whether they had pets. If they really thought a cauldron of water would be sufficient to save their ginormous homes. That kind of thing.
Pictures don’t really capture the immenseness of things, either. Words. Pictures. They’re what a blog is made of, and yet, it feels I’m molding clay without hands. This ashtray/bowl of a blog would only make my mother proud. (Hi mom.)
In China, things are big and the people are …well, the people are little, but there’s a whole lot of ’em…and in that way, they’re pretty big.
Anyway.
There’s also this: trying to explain the impact that traveling in China had on me is like stuffing an apricot into a fig. (Hm. This probably could be done, but not by me.) The things I experienced while traveling there are settling like dust into my bones, and any changes that occurred are more subtle still. But they’re there.
I would love to explain them to you.
If I had the words, I would. I don’t, though. The whole ocean/teacup thing.
Instead, I offer pictures. With captions. I realize this is the equivalent of just the plain old fig. But hey, delicious fig! Enjoy.
In the two-month long lifespan of a silkworm, amazing things are accomplished. Things like the creation of silk thread. It’s 9:40am and I still haven’t finished breakfast.
We couldn’t be in Asia and not go to China, was our thinking. The influence its culture had, has, and probably will always have, on the rest of the world, is behemoth. Now I understand — there’s a reason for that.
Chris said:
I’m lovin’ hearing about China via Belfast, neighbor! Thanks! Chris
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Diana said:
I, too, am a faithful reader, Vicki. When I open my email and there is a new post from you, it’s a special treat! Keep them coming!!!
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Priscilla Bull said:
Dear Vicki…
I think you may have many more than 6 readers! I, for one, have thoroughly enjoyed reading your blogs and seeing your photos throughout the past year, and I don’t even know you! I do, however, know Guy, through my son, Larry. Actually, I think I may have met you once, while I was traveling through Belfast with Larry. My memory is awful!
I do hope you’re putting your blogs together in book form…you write beautifully. What an adventure you’ve had, and what an amazing experience for your three beautiful children! My niece is in S. Korea now…has been there for a year and will be there for one more year, teaching English. She works for the Maple Bear Canadian School and lives in Incheon.
All best and “hi” to Guy!
Priscilla Bull
On Aug 14, 2012,
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Vicki Hamlin said:
Hi Priscilla! Great to hear from you! Thanks for being a loyal reader! Not sure where this blog is headed, but somewhere fun! Guys sends his hugs,
Vicki
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Sheila said:
Oh, Vicki, even though you are finally home, I’m so glad that you are still sending out your blogs. Every one of them is a treasure. Please, please keep on writing. And get busy on that book of yours. I’ll stand in line for hours to get a copy autographed. 😉
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