The weekends had become my own, a chance to step outside the rhythm of campus life. I wanted to seek something deeper, a sense of history and meaning that I had not yet found in the usual haunts of the expat community.
You've stumbled into a reality that non-anglo cultures take in their stride, the magical and practical all rolled into one. I had a similar experience at the Suzhou Xuan Miao Guan, the Temple of Mystery. Only there, instead of being enormous, the footprint is quite small. Everyone knows it's Lu Dongbin's footprint， told in old stories and rediscovered during temple renovations. My daughter was around ten at the time; her foot fit perfectly into the old stone footprint
Were people shorter then?
Did Lu Dongbin have particularly small feet? I don't know, but for me anyhow, you just don't mess with magic .
I had no idea there were more footprints out there! There's a quiet exhilaration in being nudged so far beyond your own frameworks. It makes me wonder how many other places I passed by, never realising something sacred was just beneath the surface.
I've felt it elsewhere too: amongst the funeral pyres on the banks of the Ganges in Varanasi for example. Sacred moments that don't ask to be understood or analysed, only acknowledged. Your only job is to stand still and listen.
"In China, there were no easy answers. Every step forward seemed to uncover more questions." - that's a profound truth. It is really commendable that you took what little free time you had and spent it absorbing the history and culture. 🙏🏻
Thanks, Paul! That really means a lot. I’ve never been much of a drinker, and at times it felt like expat culture /was/ drinking culture. I actually touch on that in a later chapter, after joining a Hash House Harriers run (not sure if you’ve come across those expat running clubs?).
Back then, I felt an urgency, like I had no time to lose. I knew even in the moment that the chance to get lost in the older corners of the city was something I’d never get back. So I walked. A lot. Absorbing as much as I could before it slipped away.
I sure did hear of the Hash Crowd but never interacted with anyone. I almost never spoke with another expat during my entire working time. The work was demanding and absorbing and the company kind of cultish. And the typical expat, as you allude to, fits a particular stereotype that I don’t like. And, introvert.
You've stumbled into a reality that non-anglo cultures take in their stride, the magical and practical all rolled into one. I had a similar experience at the Suzhou Xuan Miao Guan, the Temple of Mystery. Only there, instead of being enormous, the footprint is quite small. Everyone knows it's Lu Dongbin's footprint， told in old stories and rediscovered during temple renovations. My daughter was around ten at the time; her foot fit perfectly into the old stone footprint
Were people shorter then?
Did Lu Dongbin have particularly small feet? I don't know, but for me anyhow, you just don't mess with magic .
I had no idea there were more footprints out there! There's a quiet exhilaration in being nudged so far beyond your own frameworks. It makes me wonder how many other places I passed by, never realising something sacred was just beneath the surface.
I've felt it elsewhere too: amongst the funeral pyres on the banks of the Ganges in Varanasi for example. Sacred moments that don't ask to be understood or analysed, only acknowledged. Your only job is to stand still and listen.
Indeed, sometimes your only job is to stand still and listen.
I recommend Elwyn's substack. Completely different tradition, but he juggles the otherworldly and lived reality in every post. You might enjoy it.
https://traethiad.substack.com/
"In China, there were no easy answers. Every step forward seemed to uncover more questions." - that's a profound truth. It is really commendable that you took what little free time you had and spent it absorbing the history and culture. 🙏🏻
Thanks, Paul! That really means a lot. I’ve never been much of a drinker, and at times it felt like expat culture /was/ drinking culture. I actually touch on that in a later chapter, after joining a Hash House Harriers run (not sure if you’ve come across those expat running clubs?).
Back then, I felt an urgency, like I had no time to lose. I knew even in the moment that the chance to get lost in the older corners of the city was something I’d never get back. So I walked. A lot. Absorbing as much as I could before it slipped away.
I sure did hear of the Hash Crowd but never interacted with anyone. I almost never spoke with another expat during my entire working time. The work was demanding and absorbing and the company kind of cultish. And the typical expat, as you allude to, fits a particular stereotype that I don’t like. And, introvert.
🙏🏽🤍🪽☄️