Saving my Soul ...

Beijing, China

This one is all about Winnie, the Singaporean lady who says of her cultural heritage that she is a "banana": yellow on the outside and white on the inside. I've been staying with her and Evonne for a month. Evonne had warned me that her flatmate was ... special. She had been unsure if we'd get along. I had decided to make every effort. They were both very nice to me letting me stay at their place - not a matter of course for Asian women. Evonne had further warned that while she was a believer in God, Winnie was a very strong believer. I had assured her there would not be an issue.
I'm still not sure how successful I was with that. I guess we both tried but put an atheist in a room with a fundamentalist and make a guess what will happen.
Even though I've always sort of loosely believed in a higher power it's never (espeically recently) really been the Christian God. I've always had issues with the Church and its history of violence, persecution and meddling. Nowadays, I'm interested in religion from a purely scientific point of view. It's all a form of mythology to me. These days now and after coming to China, I'm particularly curious about Buddhism and Taoism.
Winnie on the other hand believes in what she calls the "one true, living God". She's incredibly vehement about this. She sees proof of it everywhere. She rejects any other religion as idol worship. Once she saw me sitting on her sofa in a lotus seat. I used to do Yoga for a while in UK and sometimes try it again or use it to correct my sitting posture. She told me off because, she said, with meditation I would open my soul to powers that I didn't understand and of which I didn't know if they were good or evil. I mentioned that I had done this in UK but she responded that this was Asia and things were different here. Another time she caught me listening to a CD I had bought in Ulaanbaatar, which featured Mongolian throat singing. I have to admit it does sound bizarre when you hear it for the first time. She said it was chanting. I objected that the title of the song was "Mother Mongolia" and surely the song didn't have anything to do with the profane. I sometimes hate it when my mouth opens before the brain has time to intervene! She insisted I didn't understand Mongolian, so how could I know for sure and she didn't want it played in her flat. With that the matter was off the table. And there were many more things. Small encounters like these. I don't know why they happened. I got the feeling the more I reminded myself not to provoke her the more it seemed to happen on its own accord.
I'm not sure when it started. Some time during the first or second week she must have made the decision that my soul needed saving and she began talking to me about God. As it turned out, we had both grown up without a father. I think she took that for a sign. "You have a father in Heaven", she would often say, "and he loves you." Not that I've ever really wanted a father. It was useless trying to explain to her my view point of religion. Or the matter of fathers.
One day she gave me a T-shirt. She was proud that it was a genuine Nike shirt, not a cheap copy you find on markets everywhere. She rejected that like a number of other aspects of life that are just typically Chinese. I duely thanked her for the T-shirt. Wrong again. "Don't thank me", she said, "it's from your father in Heaven. He told me to go and buy it for you." I tried not to let it show. "Thank you", I said again.
Another time she gave me three small comic books, saying it was to help me practice my Chinese. They were stories from the Bible. As comics. The angels looked a bit like Marvel heroes.
Then last week I woke up to find a brown paper bag standing next to my bed. It contained a little hand written note from Winnie and the "New Revised Standard Edition" of the Bible. In English and Chinese. A massive volume. It was also from my father in Heaven. Now, this was getting a bit creepy. Of course, I trust the two ladies. I've grown to like Evonne. But the notion of Winnie coming in while I was sleeping to carefully deposit the bag next to me is still slightly odd.
One night I was having a particularly animated discussion with Winnie about the views on religion. It was almost turning into an argument when she suddenly stopped me in mid-sentence saying: "I don't want to talk to you anymore. I only want to talk to God now." Then she began praying asking God for forgiveness for my views, to love me more and to enlighten me, and so on. Then after about ten minutes of prayer she disappeared into her room leaving me bewildered. Nobody has interrupted me in quite this way before.
Then this week, the matter finally climaxed. It was on Winnie's birthday, just before she went to the office. We were standing in the kitchen. She was talking again about our father in Heaven when she said she wanted to make a birthday wish. She wanted to pray for me. She wanted me to open myself to God. In retrospect it seems that she meant to make a final effort to convert me. I really didn't want this. I wanted to do my homework. Anything else. I felt a huge waste of time and energy coming up. However, conscience kicked in: It was her birthday, she'd been very kind and generous to me, so I should indulge her. I cautiously agreed. Winnie began praying asking God to enlighten me, to send down His holy fire, fill my heart with His love and more such things in minor variations. As her prayer grew more intense she came up to me. I tried to retreat discreetly only to hit the wall on my second step. She put her hand on my chest and went on. Could I feel how hot her hand was, she asked me. I thought that, of course, it was warm - she was a living human being. She told me to close my eyes, to open myself to God. I obediently closed my eyes and tried to think holy things. Just be patient a little longer then she'll be happy and leave you to your affairs. But she didn't. She rested her other hand on my head. She was feeling the heat, she said. She was standing quite close to me. Under different circumstances, with a different girl, it shot through my head, I would actually enjoy this a lot. I remember doing my best to keep myself from going through my shopping list in the privacy of my head. Then she said she could feel God's presence and I should sit down because when He came over me I would be weak. She lead me to the sofa in the living room and sat me down while she knelt in front of me. Winnie continued praying with her hands resting on my thighs. She kept repeating that she felt hot, that could only be God's holy fire flowing through her. The whole situation was more than suggestive, I wonder if she realised that at the time. Thoughts reared their heads that had nothing to do with praying. At the same time I couldn't help wondering what she actually wanted from me - and what would make her stop. Was she honestly waiting for me jump up and shout "Haleluyah!"? While she continued praying and put one hand on my chest again I tried to think of a way to gently but firmly tell her that it wasn't happening and that I didn't want to go on with this anymore. Eventually, she stopped by herself. She was out of breath and her hand had left a moist spot on my shirt. "Can you feel it", she asked me. I asked back if she wanted the truth. Nod. I shook my head sadly. "No." I had tried to tell her before that maybe, one day I would find my way to God but there was no point trying to rush it. At this she finally gave up and retreated to her room to freshen up. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I checked the time. We had taken about 40 minutes! When I told them about Winnie friends had already told me I should go and find my own place - soon. Some had said that she was scary. Now, I'm sure she had the best of intentions and I would certainly miss Evonne but that moment I knew that my friends were right.
Now, I want no misunderstanding. I've seen Winnie has a kind heart. She has tolerated me in her flat for a month and tried her best to make me feel welcome and at home. I'm sure that with our differences in beliefs that hasn't always been easy for her. At the same time she's been a hard test. I've never met anybody who's ultimately as fundamentalist as she. Born in a different day and time she might have been another Joan of Arc, a crusader, an inquisitor, a missionary. The way she can describe her faith, with such passion and conviction, without a quantum of doubt must be quite impressive to those who are receptive to such things. Like the Chinese girl I saw at her friend's birthday party. At the same time I note that she and a lot of her Singaporean friends from church and Bible group are middle-aged, single women. I wonder if that enormous passion they throw into their faith isn't the very same that other women might have for their boyfriend or husband. A cynical or analytical voice may even ask if all this "heat" they feel doesn't just come from some repressed sexuality? Ultimately, whatever reason there may be I find it hard to agree with or sometimes even accept her point of view. It's not only in conflict with my personal beliefs but also with everything that I've ever learnt about God. So, I'm sure even if I was Christian I would still disagree with her. I hope she'll forgive me that. I do appreciate her help.

Indecent Proposal

Beijing, China

It was on her birthday party a few days ago that Winnie first brought this up. A business proposal since I had mentioned I was thinking about earning some money to finance my stay in China. It was like this:
A friend of hers (who was also at the party) had an architecture or design business. Would I be interested in making a short business trip for her a week later, stay at a classy hotel, enjoy all sorts of luxuries, do practically nothing and even be paid US$300 for it?
Do nothing? Get paid? That sounded almost too good. But I've become a suspecious person. What was this about? Winnie's friend needed a Western face to represent her company to some potential Chinese customers. I would only have to attend a business meeting or two, look professional and pretend not to speak Chinese at all. Surely, I could do that? Now I was curious. How would we communicate? Why did they need me? Because of the prestige. In China, a Western face adds positive credibility to a company's business. There would be a translator, so I didn't have to speak any Chinese. I wouldn't need to negotiate anyway, the customer just wanted to meet one of the Western business people in person. And why was I asking so many questions? I was being offered money for doing nothing, I should appreciate that. Well, after two wars we Germans don't appreciate the pleasures of blinder Gehorsam (blind obedience) anymore. I dug deeper. Finally, I was told that an architect from Canada had been supposed to fly over but had cancelled at short notice. I was filling in for him. But I wasn't a trained architect, I objected, how could I fill in for one? Winnie was getting annoyed now. I wouldn't need to do any talking. I could just enjoy my stay. It was all very easy really. They were even offering lots of money for it. This was a godsend. Her friend wanted an answer. If I didn't want it I should say so and they would find somebody else.
Now, it's not like I don't appreciate presents but I don't like being put under pressure and the way they were waving the benefits of the whole thing in my face it felt as if they were hiding something. Winnie wouldn't even tell me which city I would be going. The whole affair stank. Things are never as easy as people say they will be. Besides, this was blatant fraud. I was uncomfortable at the idea of being uncovered as an impostor. How much support could I expect from this friend of Winnie's. She might just deny everything. If things went awry $300 might not be nearly enough to get myself out of trouble again. Of course, on the other hand she had me hooked. $300 plus a fancy hotel for a few days...
I did the old Who-wants-to-be-a-Millionaire trick. I called my good friend Shu and talked things over with her. She didn't have a good feeling about it either but she knew that a Western face sometimes might help close a deal. I might really have very little to do. And why not do something crazy or adventurous for a change, I added.
In the end, I agreed with Winnie that I would go but on the terms that I should receive a detailed briefing before I left. And maybe they could throw in the suit that I'd need, as well. Some of her initial enthusiasm had dissipated by now. She'd call her friend and tell her. That was the last thing I heard of it. They didn't need me anymore. Apparently, the real guy had turned up, after all. Much ado about nothing.
I still wonder what might have happened. The whole thing did feel exciting, like Mission Impossible. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, will be..." Is this really how they do business here?

Winnie's Birthday

Beijing, China

Another birthday party. This time it's Winnie's big day and she wanted to celebrate in style. I still hardly know her so I bought a big bunch of flowers for her at the florist opposite her compound. I realised, not for the first time, that I have no bloody clue about flowers. I left it to the lady and her husband to put the bunch together telling them only it's for a woman's birthday. My Chinese doesn't really allow me to say much more yet. Then I got in a cab and managed to be directed to the club she had designated. This was a club in a very Old-World, British sense with lots of marble and expensive woodwork and waitresses in cocktail dresses - not the modern "thump, thump", "binge, binge" affair. I have hardly any formal clothing with me, so I felt horribily underdressed.
Most people here were again from the church or Bible group. This brought back some scary memories. There were a number of Westerners, too, this time. I chatted politely but somehow felt a bit left out. But Winnie had asked me to be the photographer. That gets me every time. Later, Winnie announced, there would be a gettogether at the home of one of her friends, an American couple, with Bible discussion and "sharing".
The Americans lived in a compound like most foreigners do. It's for safety and convenience purposes. Evonne and Winnie do. That where the similarity ends, though. Evonne's and Winnie's compound has four tower blocks and a community building in the middle. This compound was a fenced-in district in itself. The moment we passed the gate it felt more like crossing from China into a miniature version of America. It was heavily guarded, too. We were immediately hailed by uniformed guards who radioed back to central confirming who we were and where we were going. As we entered the building almost every door was secured with a key or code lock. People that lived here were seriously afraid of something. I had never felt that threatened in Beijing. A playground for rich foreigners, it seemed. Then came the flat and I realised how right my first impression had been. It had white marble, gold-plated railings, a fluffy, white plush carpet. To say it was "luxurious" or "lavish" doesn't quite capture it. I've never seen an apartment with Roman-style columns. They had a live-in 24-hour Filipino maid and a spoilt, little, white dog matching the carpet. The only word I could think of was "decadent". Somehow it reminded me of the descriptions of the villae of rich Roman citizens where they lived with their family and slaves.
I was also a bit apprehensive about the "sharing". Would they try to make me tell a story about how I had recently experienced God?
I didn't need to worry. Everyone gathered on the plush carpet and, being the host, the American quickly volunteered. He told an impressive story about his dream where he found himself in a sort of cathedral, the sky opened and God spoke to him fitting him with holy armour and a flaming sword telling him to be His servant. Everyone nodded. "Amen", some agreed. Then Winnie herself told the story of how her friend had been unhappy for a long time and she had gone over and they had prayed and sung together and waved around a white flag to cleanse the room when they had seen a dark shadow, a demon, retreating for their sight. More agreement and amens.
I can't help myself. The whole gathering felt a lot like a group of people bullshitting each other. Who can get the most attention? Who's the closest to God? Humans love to compete, humans love attention and social acceptance and this is just another arena. The stories I heard this evening could I have been straight from a Dungeons & Dragons game session. I could have written stuff like that (and I have made a mental note to reuse some of the stuff I heard tonight). You just have to be part of the group so that you have credibility. Then you can probably tell people anything. Still, I wonder if people tonight really believed what others or even they themselves said. No matter how much Winnie tries to convince me I find it harder and harder to identify with this kind of faith, let alone believe it.

Of Sardines and Flying Dutchmen

Bus 731, Beijing, China

No, this it not about old sailors' legends but actually buses in Beijing.
Today I found the bus that goes non-stop from Chaoyang District, where I currently live, to Wudaokou, where I go to school: it's 731. I tracked it down north of Wudaokou station following its route without finding any stops. Still, 731 buses kept passing as if to taunt me. But every time I did reach a bus stop it did not serve no. 731. Now, I don't believe in ghost ships and the Flying Dutchman but this was just too similar: a bus that goes past but stops nowhere. Surreal!
Finally, after surely an hours or so, I tracked it down to its terminus. There an attendant told me that 731 only starts back at Wudaokou station. I had really been chasing phantoms.
And sardines? Well, that's the condition of people on the bus during rush hour. Like sardines in a tin, squeezed together with hardly any way out, with other people's crotch pressed embarrassingly against your knee if you sit. If we can somehow squeeze another person in we will just push a bit harder inward.
And then the speed of the bus in Beijing's traffic is, on average, also that of a can of salted fish. At least I'm sitting. Now, the rest of the trip can only be a matter of days.

Birthday Evening

Beijing, China

Tonight I was invited for a birthday party. The birthday lday is one of Evonne's and Winnie's friends from their Bible group. For that we just had to go across to another block of their compound. Most other attendees were also expats - Malaysian or Singaporean - except for a single Korean guy and a Chinese girl maybe around my age. Even the pastor had turned up for the occasion. They had ordered a huge banquet (so it seemed) including a whole fish and some Malaysian specialties. I learnt that the Korean guy was Evonne's and Winnie's neighbour and the Chinese girl worked for CCTV (the main public TV channel here).
The pastor said a prayer for the friend whose birthday we were celebrating. Then there was entertainment: Karaoke. There were several folders with songs. Great! I've always wanted to try karaoke. I don't know what kind of songs I had expected. I was naive when I first picked up a folder. There wasn't much choice. Two folders were full with Chinese songs. The third had a mixture of English songs of praise and (from my point of view) ancient pop (we're talking Roy Orbison here). The pastor himself was taking the piano. Evonne had spotted me. Did I want to sing anything? I could always ask the pastor for one. My mind went blank, then it came back with a list of songs. The list went like this:
Sympathy for the Devil - Guns'n'Roses
Highway to Hell - AC/DC
Holier Than Thou - Metallica
etc.
"Go on!" The little devil on my right prodded me with his trident. "Ask her if they know any of these." I was at a Christian gathering and this was all I could come up with. The angel on my left prevailed. I declined. I didn't know any songs. Smile. I couldn't even sing. Others could and did. Songs of praise in Chinese and English.
But the evening also had a very disturbing moment. The Chinese girl was interested in Christianity. Maybe she even wanted to convert. I'm not quite sure, they spoke Chinese mostly. I got the idea that they wanted to speak a blessing for her. At some point after the birthday prayers they sat her on a chair where the birthday lady had been sitting. One lady stood behind the chair resting her hands on the girl's shoulders. Two others were standing on either side their hands extended above the girl's head in a gesture of blessing. They began to pray. It grew intense. Something like strain was showing on their faces, especially the one leading the prayer from behind the chair. The two other ladies waved their hands about. Other people started joining in the chorus. Strain now also showed on the girl's face. The words, the pleas for God's aid, blessing, whatnot seemed to grow in intensity, urgency until they finally stopped. I wonder if the girl has come out of this as a believer. She was supposed to experience the Christian God. Call me a sceptic but I believe what she experienced was much more mundane than that. What's more, the praying and chanting and waving around to me had very little of a Christian ceremony. Much rather it reminded me of an excorcism, a mass suggestion, the rites of an ancient cult. Winnie has accused me of not understanding God, that our European ideas of Christianity and God are too limited. They have a relationship with the one true living God, she says. But I refuse to believe that this is it. They say that Buddha and Tao and everything that Chinese culture has been built on for thousands of years is all supestition. Still, I can't see anyone giving her an overview of Christian beliefs or values or history or the Bible and then tell her to see a priest. The wasn't even a priest present - the pastor had left. She's impressionable maybe because she's looking for something to believe in. And all I see is that they try to collectively brainwash and indoctrinate her. Maybe this is exactly how the Church has gathered new converts over the centuries. The difference is this: the Church has always been looking for new converts who'd pay regular tithes. These women have nothing financial to gain from their new "sister". They act on conviction. They firmly believe that God is guiding them the right way, that they are wrestling her from the clutches of demons and false idols, that this is the will of God. And that sent an icy shiver down my spine. There can be such a thing as too much faith.