THE WARRIORS BAUMANN & The Writing Life, part 3

Rather than a 'Welcome to 2026' post, I'm continuing promotion of my newest novel THE WARRIORS BAUMANN, a ribald comedy set in medieval Missouri. Although this book is the latest installment in the FLU SEASON Saga, it is only tangentially connected. Our main characters are two Baumann descendants, brothers on a mission in the year 2353 - long after civilization has collapsed and then risen again but only to a medieval level, where former states are now kingdoms. The story is ripe for ruse and witty wiles, with a burly warrior, his clever brother, an out-on-his-luck actor, a girl warrior, a pouty princess, a dastardly duke, a wily wizard, a wayward traveler of the timestream, and a Waffle House waitress. Most of the action occurs along the Royal Road and its towns and in the capital city of Louis. (click to enlarge)

Even as I type this blog post, work continues on my next novel, a more serious epic titled A TIME OF KINGS which concerns the war between Chicageaux and Cinnati in 3030 AD, as told by another Baumann descendent. As I near the end of the initial draft, sitting at 165,000 words with two chapters to go, I am deepening and enriching the original story which I thought up at age 13 and typed up in a screenplay format while in college just to get the whole thing down on paper. More on this medieval story in a future blog post.

Where we left off in the previous blog post about my writing life, I'd thought my novel writing was done. I had published all of my books written prior to the ABNA competition (Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award) in 2011, 2012, and 2013 (The Dream Land, Book 3: Diaspora was newer than ABNA but it piggybacked off Book 2, obviously.). I had achieved my goal and could sit back satisfied as I continued my teaching career. Then we discovered vampires. Rather, my daughter did: the Twilight series, which became her obsession - to the point of collecting everything and writing fan fiction.

I told her what I knew about vampirism, based chiefly on a TV magazine show about a poor fellow who suffered from porphyria, a hideous disease which caused many of the terrible symptoms we typically associate with vampires. Rather than glittery skin as in the Twilight books and movies, real vampires had dry, scaly skin from a lack of blood flow. They also, based on my research, tended to be from one blood type and that blood type happened to be most concentrated in a little place I like to call Transylvania. Perhaps Bram Stoker also did his research and located his famous vampire in that region. So I sought to write a medically accurate vampire novel just to show my daughter the truth. 

I began with a protagonist who transforms over a short time into a vampire - unaware that his parents did the same and hid away without telling him the family curse. I lived in Oklahoma City at the time, which was 2013, and so I set the story right in my own backyard, and in the same time period as I was actually writing it. Therefore, A DRY PATCH OF SKIN was published on Halloween 2014 - at the very moment he completed his transformation in Zagreb, Croatia - while searching for a cure. It was a big hit, vampires being popular in those years. Even my own doctor deemed it medically sound and praised my research and extrapolation of the cause and effect of the syndrome.

Then life turned strange. I was invited to come and teach a summer course at a university in Beijing, China. The course I chose to teach was American Business English. The university paid for my airfare and my hotel across from the campus, and gave me a salary.  When I was not in the classroom for a couple hours on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I was free to go sightseeing. Or stay in my hotel room and write a new novel.

The equally strange story of how I came to write A GIRL CALLED WOLF (2015) should be made into a movie. A relative of a Facebook friend saw my vampire book, read it and liked it. We "talked" online and I learned of her background, which seemed like a fascinating story. I encouraged her to write it for 

NaNoWRiMo (National Novel Writing Month [November]) of which I had participated as a way to push myself to write. She tried but didn't get far. So we agreed to work together because I felt her story was interesting and deserved to be told. We started a collaboration where she told me about her childhood and youth, and I wrote it as a novel - fictionalizing where necessary. What was amazing was how I packed up all my Greenland maps and books to take with me to Beijing in the heat of the summer so I could keep on writing it! I cranked down the A/C in my room to better get in the mood for writing about life in Greenland.

That semi-biographical effort was followed the next summer in Beijing (2016) teaching the same course again with EPIC FANTASY *WITH DRAGONS (2017), what was to be my epic tome that said everything I wished to say about life, the universe, and dragons. Again, I toted my materials to that hotel in Beijing and wrote when not in class. The story that I'm sticking to is that my fellow authors at Myrddin Publishing, mostly of the fantasy genre, challenged me to also write a fantasy novel. I'd written sci-fi before (The Dream Land trilogy) but I knew I had to follow some tropes for my book to be fantasy. At the last moment, I was told my epic fantasy had to include dragons - so it did. 

I took the story as a spoof of epic fantasy (think Tolkien) at first, but as I got myself into the story I became compelled to tell a deeper narrative - with dragons. I treated the dragons as real biological creatures (no talking, no hoarding of gold, no sacrificial virgins). An exiled dragonslayer is determined to locate the dragons nesting place and kill them all to be rid of the menaces once and for all - only to discover on the journey a lot of truths that make him realize things about the nature of the universe. The novel was long enough, but during that month in Beijing I also wrote a novella which I broke into chapters to insert as interludes in the novel, making the work my longest novel. 

Whew! That was an effort, although I was very proud of the story I produced. I thought I really said some things that needed to be put into words. I felt satisfied with this "final" book. Again, I thought I was done writing books - and continued my teaching. But thoughts nagged me about my vampire hero. I wondered what he would be doing now. So I got back into the story - now 13 years into the future (what would be 2027-8) when he leaves his dour home in Croatia (an abandoned villa) for life as a playboy in Budapest, Hungary. In SUNRISE (Book 2, 2018), things happen, obviously, which leads to the third book, SUNSET (Book 3, 2019) in what became a trilogy. A problem which developed later was that I never described the 2020-22 pandemic when a character mentions what she has done through the years up to 2027 in the story. I learned never to give exact dates in a story and followed that advice for the FLU SEASON Saga.

I completed the vampire trilogy, and felt NOW I was finished writing. But then things happened again. A couple of events came together to spark a new idea for me: a crime thriller, which would be a new genre for me to wrote. But I love a challenge (dragons, anyone?) and so I set myself up to write it - only to be stopped in the middle by falling sick with what turned out to be, named a few months later, as something called Covid-19. More on the next phase of My Writing Life in the next blog post. Next time: the covid-era novels.

Meantime, get your copies of the FLU SEASON novels + THE WARRIORS BAUMANN.

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(C) Copyright 2010-2026 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

How I Ruined My Summer Vacation - 2018 (part 4)

Every time I go to Beijing to teach a summer course at the University of International Business and Economics, my meals are always an adventure. It's not that I don't like Chinese food; I definitely do. And it's not that my choices are limited. In a city of ten million people there must be about 1 million restaurants and cafes and food kiosks. I could also dine in the campus cafeteria like my students, if I wanted to.

Last summer I had problems. I had to keep running to a bathroom, to put it as delicately as possible. That really put a crimp on my relations and on my sightseeing. I diagnosed the problem as either 1) I kept re-infecting myself every time I ate out, or 2) the bug was staying in me no matter what I ate. It was an unpleasant experience, although it did help me lose weight. I finally got some local medicine that treated the symptoms and got me through the long flight home. Once home, I went to my doctor who prescribed a regimen of antibiotics which cleared it right up.

Unagi-don

This summer, I thought I'd be prepared. I went to my doctor pre-emptively and he offered to prescribe antibiotics which I could take if the same problem returned. As it turned out, I did not need it. Everything was fine. In fact, I was able to up my eating game due to the emergence of several new restaurants near my hotel. So I was able to avoid the hole-in-the-wall cafes on the east side of the campus or those to the north of the west gate of the campus which I had gone to often the previous summer at the behest of students and well-meaning friends.

First was a Cantonese restaurant. Having been to Hong Kong, I had the understanding that Cantonese food was mild (not spicy) but the fare here was not bland at all and quite delicious. I tried many dishes on the menu during my four meals there, including dim sum.

They added some bulls on Wangfujing street.

Another major dining destination for me was just a few steps from my hotel door: a Japanese restaurant which specialized in sushi (of course!). Actually, in my six visits, I noticed they seemed to specialize in eel ("unagi" in Japanese), which is cooked rather than served raw. I sampled several dishes as well as a variety of sushi offerings, including the eel "don" (filet of eel, grilled, over a bed of rice). 

At The Sizzler!

I still made  use of the neighborhood 7-Eleven store, purchasing breakfast bread, bananas, bottled yogurt, sodas, and water bottles (can't drink the tap water), and candy - because I was on vacation. My walking balanced out my eating, I learned during my first visit. For nostalgia's sake, I popped into the YongHeGong restaurant on the corner (specializing in pork cutlets on rice) and promptly found myself sporting symptoms of the previous summer's visit. I downed a shot of meds I'd brought from home and no more problem.


A custom of mine, whenever I feel homesick or my stomach craves some good ol' homecooking, is to venture down to the big tourist shopping street known as Wangfujing. There, I can find two huge bookstores to browse away the hours as well as a large food court in an upscale  shopping mall. In that food court is one of America's premier steakhouses: The Sizzler! A proper steak and potato, salad bar, and cheesecake will set everything right again.

Speaking of homecooking, after I noticed a Pizza Hut a few blocks from the campus, I offered my friend the opportunity to experience a real American-style pizza. We went there, perused the menu, and I immediately recognized that this Pizza Hut was not going to serve the usual pizzas like back home. One featured pizza had eel on it, another had Peking duck. We went to the do-it-yourself page and cobbled together something close to American-style: beef and peppers. It sufficed.

And as usual, my faculty colleague treated me to Peking duck at their original location in Qianmen. The show is when the duckmaster carefully slices up the duck and makes a lotus flower with the slices. Then you eat it by wrapping the duck slices in a thin pancake with some spring onions and duck sauce.

Also as usual, my visit ended at the Hilton Hotel by the airport, where all rationality is thrown out the window in order to dine at the expensive restaurant there, where my guest ordered . . . the burger. Now hold on! Being an upscale eatery, the burger was top grade and had exotic ingredients on it, like fois gras (goose liver pate). I ordered a Tandoori dish, mostly because we had been talking about Indian food the past week.

This summer, I was well-served food-wise. I also was blessed with lovely company providing smart conversation and delightful witticisms, as well as a beautiful view across the table. That was the best part: taking pictures of our food - or just as often forgetting to photograph the gustatorial presentation prior to destroying it. After all, photography is half the fun of dining out, isn't it?


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(C) Copyright 2010-2018 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

How I Ruined My Summer Vacation - 2018 (part 3)

Into every summer vacation a little rain must fall - or a lot of rain, in my case when I went to Beijing to teach a university course. However, sometimes the rain was the least of my concerns. 

Technology.

First there was the temperature. I am blessed/cursed with a fairly accurate temperature gauge. I must be surrounded by exactly 68 to 72*F. at all times. My hotel room must be within that range for me to fall asleep and stay asleep. Otherwise, I toss and turn and awaken as a grouchy troll. Usually I need to switch rooms at least once. So I did this summer, too, from 624 to 634. 

I had to argue with the hotel staff (in my English, their Chinese) that the controls on the wall did not accurately measure the temperature settings. The dial was at its coldest setting (10*C) yet the room was much warmer than that setting. The hotel housekeeper pointed out to me that [my friend's translation: ] "When the room is warm, set the switch to "heat" so the heat will be "fixed" by having the A/C come on, and if the room is cold set it to "cool". Also, the "L" on the fan switch meant "large" so that was the highest setting. There was no way "L" could have meant "low" according to the staff person (because it was at the top of the switch positions, I guess). Got a new room anyway.

The futball theater.

Then there was the World Cup soccer tournament. It is strange how disparate things can come together to make you act counter to your norms. A year ago, in writing the second book in my vampire trilogy, I had been researching Croatia as one of the settings. I went online to get info about Croatia. As a result, I followed someone on Twitter who posted a lot of pictures of Croatia - her summer vacation there. Now, as I continued to get posts of people I followed, here comes the World Cup soccer [um, excuse me, futball]. So she is cheering for Croatia, obviously, but mostly I suspect because she decided to go back to Croatia and marry a Croatian guy she met last summer. So I got hooked watching the games. 

As an ardent American football watcher, I felt a bit out of sorts but I caught on. The object of the game is to see who can score at all. As big as the net thing is, you would think a toddler could score easily. Anyway, I liked it. I liked watching the games so much that I worried how I would see them when I went to China. Last summer (2017) I had followed Iceland in some run-up series to this tournament, so I believed I could see the games in my hotel room. I was correct. But...time zone shift! The games were on at 2 am Beijing time.

The morning sun fighting the clouds.

No problem. Even with an 8 am class start, I would watch the games. The first I watched in my hotel room was France vs. Belgium. I had picked Belgium to win. I went to sleep early, my alarm set, and got up at 2 am. Tried to get up. Nope. The next game I watched was the Croatia vs. England match. With little happening the first half, I fell asleep. When I did awaken at a normal time, I quickly turned on the TV and saw the popular player from England being interviewed. At first, I thought England had won because it was an England player they were interviewing. But, as I watched, I saw he wasn't too happy. Then the TV switched to Chinese commentary at a sports desk - with no scores showing! Finally, they put up the graphic of Croatia vs. France for the final match!

The last two matches were easier to watch: they were broadcast live at 11 pm Beijing time, so I could watch them and still get a little sleep before getting up to teach the class. Alas, Croatia did not win. You have to hand it to the Croatia guys, anyway. They played more minutes of futball than any other team there, due to so many overtime and shootout wins. England did not win its "bronze medal" match either. The rain still fell. My students still took notes. I still got paid. And I still went to see the usual places in Beijing and eat the usual foods. More on food next time.

One of many Duty-Free shops at the airport.

With my 4-week course crammed into two weeks, I had little time to go shopping for souvenirs. I expected I would get them at the airport when I was leaving. However, despite my best intentions, the departure area of the Capital Airport had undergone a severe realignment. Absolutely all the gift shops had been taken over by the Duty Free businesses. It was so overwhelming that one Duty Free shop was across the walking area from another Duty Free shop - all the same company, apparently. And they all sold the same stuff I don't want: cigarettes, liquor, jewelry and watches. I just wanted a tea cup and a t-shirt. So, no souvenirs for folks back home. That is my story and I'm sticking with it.


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(C) Copyright 2010-2018 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

How I Ruined My Summer Vacation - 2018 (part 2)

Everything begins with a departure and an arrival. For my summer trips to Beijing to teach a university course, every year is the same. Get the visa first - which is a trip in itself. There is no express or same-day service at the visa office, so I must wait four days. A mini vacation, a chance to get some writing done. They almost know me by now.

Then comes the day of travel. Two-hour flight to the hub airport, couple hours of layover, then the 13-hour leg to Beijing. I can never pick the right seat. Less success choosing the right seatmates. Going, I had a Chinese high school exchange student in the middle seat and an older professor from a northeastern university on the aisle. When they both were awake, he regaled her with tales of university life and which university she should apply to in order to continue her studies in the US. I was too tired to correct some of the ideas he had for her education. Instead, I watched four movies - two I had wanted to see and two which I endured almost to the half-way point before just ending it already!

Thank goodness there is something new every time I arrive in Beijing's Capital Airport. I actually felt good at the end of this flight, even with only four cat naps of about 20 minutes each. But the two-kilometer walk through the huge complex upon arrival always zaps my goodwill. This year foreign arrivals first must use automated machines to record their fingerprints prior to entering the immigration lines. (I suppose refusing fingerprints would have caused me to be sent back on the next flight.) Not all the machines were working - certainly not the ones I tried. Then, with receipt in hand proving we had offered up our most intimate details, we should have been allowed to proceed.

However, foreign passport holders had to wait in a weary bunch as Chinese passport holders went ahead to the immigration counters. It wasn't as though we competed for the same lines. I did not complain - too tired. Once in the long foreigners' line, I passed easily because I'm a nice guy and a regular joe. I also got my bag - historically I'm always near the last - and passed through customs - nothing to declare except my contempt for the hassles of travel. The international flight was 13 hours; from exiting the plane to exiting the secure area of the airport (including the shuttle train that takes us from the outer area of the gates to the inner portion for immigration and customs) took 1-1/2 hours.

My decision to stay in Beijing was eventually rewarded when I finally exited into the public area and easily found my student assistant for this summer there to greet me. "Serena" got me and my bags to a taxi and then to my hotel, which is across from the UIBE campus. It was an overcast, humid afternoon as we went from the airport to the hotel, a situation which did not change much during the course I was to teach. This year, I was asked to teach the same course in two weeks instead of four - I presumed it to be a way to save on my hotel bill, which the university paid.

Back to the Yinghua ("Cherry blossom") Hotel, my old nemesis. The staff knows me well, understands I like good a/c. I also care about feng shui. My free time during these summers includes a fair amount of writing in my room so feng shui is important. My first two years I was in room 424 - I actually requested it the second year - which had great feng shui; I wrote the greater part of two novels those two summers (A Girl Called Wolf and Epic Fantasy *With Dragons). However, last year's visit was a terrible room-shuffling experience (read about it here), but I still managed some good writing production during the room changes. This year, only one room change.

More on the room experience next post!


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(C) Copyright 2010-2018 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

How I Ruined My Summer Vacation - 2018

As many of my dear readers may be aware, I was on vacation last month. That is my story and I'm sticking to it. In my last post, I offered you a fine selection of books to entertain and enlighten you while I was away. Yes, I do notice if anyone has added one or more of them to a to-be-read list, and those of you who followed through with your reading scheme, I thank you. 

This is your vacation on rain.

Actually, I was working - so let's call it a working vacation. I traveled to Beijing, China for three weeks to teach a university course called "Business Writing in American Context" (Chinese translation). My course, like all those taught at the University of International Business and Economics, was in English. Students must be fluent enough to be successful in their classes. I went last year, as well. And the year before. Yes, it seems it is becoming a habit. However, I have vowed that this visit (2018) would be my last - unless I get a very good reason to go through all the hassles to get there again.

For 2018, they threw me a curve: to teach the same course in half the time. So my class went from 4 weeks (2 classes a week) to two weeks of 4 classes each week (one class was about 4 hours). That made the grading of papers for 62 students this year a challenge. In fact, I did little else during those two weeks but focus on the class. I knew that going in, so I arranged to stay an extra week beyond the end of the course to have some sightseeing, shopping, hanging out time.

I need not have worried about doing anything fun when I wasn't in class. Those two weeks were full of rain or such oppressive humidity that I would have preferred rain. I brought a collapsible umbrella which had served me well for several years. Unfortunately, I left it in the classroom when I went home (the rain had stopped) and only realized that fact the next morning when the deluge returned. The hotel, thankfully, had full-sized umbrellas for guests to use. Then the doorman pestered me about returning it even though I needed it for another couple of days before the rain finally stopped.

Everyone remarked it was the rainiest summer anyone in Beijing could remember. Students, however, were very courteous with their umbrellas, always lining the hallways in an orderly fashion. On one particularly heavy rainfall day, my class assistant relayed the consensus of the students asking if the class would be cancelled. I was already in the classroom - on time - so it was on, baby! I did not count anyone late and, in fact, I delayed the start for 15 minutes. At the end of the two weeks, one student gave me a lovely postcard with a message on it, noting among other things that I was always punctual "even in rainy day".

With jet lag waking me earlier than normal, I had time to write. I continued working on the first draft of the third book in my vampire trilogy. I had written a huge portion of book 2 last summer. I also worked on two different short stories. Cranked out about 75,000 words total in three weeks. After my class, it was lunch time so I would grab something simple, often from the nearby 7-11 store, then return to my room to relax, eat the lunch, take a nap, then get up and write. With little distraction (no substantial social media access, for example), it was possible hunker down and type those chapters.

Room 634, which had decent feng shui.

For my dinners, I had plenty of company. A new Japanese (mostly sushi) restaurant had opened next to my hotel since last summer, which became a regular hangout. A new Chinese (mostly Cantonese) restaurant had also opened up the street since last year and got a lot of my business. And there was always the big Pizza Hut several blocks north of my hotel to try - especially if I wished to show a Chinese lady how "real" American-style pizza is (it wasn't, but that's another blog post). At least I did not get sick like last year.


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(C) Copyright 2010-2018 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

How I Ruined My Summer Vacation (2017 Edition) Pt 5

I need to slip this blog about my summer vacation in between hurricanes. With only two classes each week, I had time for sightseeing but because I had seen everything before, it was harder to find something else to see. Fortunately, I had a friend guide me to a new corner of the city: the 798 Art Zone.

During my first summer trip to Beijing I had cravings for tacos but quickly discovered that the only tacos in Beijing were at a handful of cafes run by ex-pat Westerners. One of them was located in this corner of Beijing but the subway route to get there required 4 lines. As it turned out, this was in the Art Zone.

I met my guide, codename: Maria, outside my hotel on a Sunday morning. She arrived on one of the millions of rental bikes (where you dial in a code number on an app on your smart phone and the bike is unlocked). 

We walked up the street to the bus stop to go to the Art Zone. I've always been wary of riding buses because I don't know where they will go. But with my guide, I felt safe. I used my subway pass for the bus. It was a 40 minute bus ride, no changes. 

Going to see more of the northeast corner of the city, off the edge of my map. I saw us pass a sign marking the division between Chaoyang district and Wangjing district, near Wangjing park. 

Finally we got off the bus and walked a bit, looking for a place to have lunch. We decided to find the Art Zone first, then look for lunch. We backtracked and crossed a wide avenue and entered the 798 Art Zone, where a big sign indicated the district. If you had been looking right at it you would've seen it. Lots of old brick and tile factories had been converted into artists’ studios and small galleries. Lots of cafes and bars, too. 

Translation: "The First Breakfast"

"The Four Moods of Stephen"

Searching for a good place for lunch, we paused to get drinks: latte for me, fruit smoothie for her. We went next to a café and ordered a Hawaiian pizza with a Caesar salad. Nothing more American than that. It was very good and exactly like what I would have had in the US. I almost forgot I was in China. 

Then we walked around looking at strange public art, taking photos, entering small galleries—hoping people would buy the art—and joking together about what we saw. It was nice to have a leisurely day out looking at art. 

Eventually, we got thirsty so we stopped in at a place for a drink. Instead, we got a large dish of mango sherbet with cubes of mango. Very delicious! As it turned out, none of the cafes or restaurants or even the galleries had much A/C going. Outside it was the usual hot, humid weather. The galleries seemed to have only enough cool air to be able to make the claim it was on. We talked about all sorts of trivial topics, including how to interpret modern art. I think we are supposed to imagine what the artist was thinking and/or drinking when he or she painted it. We must use metaphor and personification, even if it hurts. Many tags next to artwork suggested the inspiration came from a dream.


Once upon a time I learned about art from a real art student, but I had to throw all that out the window in this district. I saw a lot of red and a lot of Mao-suit-influenced designs. The melding of old and new was a common theme. Attempts to create the fantastic, to shock or provoke introspection, appeared on every corner and in half the galleries. I eventually reached the threshold of interpretation and gave up.

I did not buy any art: too big, too bold, too expensive for my meager means.

When we decided to go back to the campus, I suggested we have dinner there in one of the small restaurants around the campus. But as we walked in the direction to exit the Art Zone, we saw a restaurant promoting gourmet hamburgers. One was a Mexican hamburger. I was hooked. We decided to have our dinner there. But we were not yet hungry, so we continued to walk around, visit some shops, see other streets and alleys, and circled back to the hamburger restaurant. We got cold drinks first, talked, then ordered our hamburgers. It was a good dinner.

The dinner gave us some more energy, so we could start walking back to the bus stop. On the way, she saw a McDonald's in a shopping mall so we went in to get some ice cream as our dessert. Instead of the small vanilla cones I expected, they were promoting large fancy cones, with some decorations, so I got a mango dessert cone and she got a green tea cone. We finished our desserts sitting inside, then we continued on to the bus stop.

Waiting at the bus stop to return to the campus, we talked about everything important in life, such as my vampire book and the sequel I was writing in my hotel room. She is a fan of vampire stories, so I offered to let her be a character in the sequel. Talk of how I got the idea for the book led to discussions of current geopolitics. 

Still we waited for the bus. Several others stopped but they were not the one to return us to the campus. I was just happy to chat longer. I felt sad when our bus finally arrived and we got on it.

To see yourself in the Hanged Man is a good omen, right?

As we arrived at our stop by the campus and got out, we went to the crosswalk and said our goodbyes. A sad moment. It was a long but fun day, the best day of my summer vacation. I did something I never could have done by myself, plus I enjoyed being with Maria. 

After walking with her through the campus, I returned to my hotel. On the way back, I see the corner laundry is still open so I pop in to pick up my clothes for the coming week. A win-win!

That night, I reflected on all that I had seen during the day, and all that I had felt and said and heard and thought. It was a lot. Then I wrote poetry. It's what I do. It's what we all do when visiting the 798 Art Zone.


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(C) Copyright 2010-2017 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

How I Ruined My Summer Vacation (2017 Edition) Pt 4

Because there is likely to be some bad news every week, I cannot delay further telling about my little summer vacation. Apologies to those without the electricity to read this. My heart truly goes out to you; I've been in your shoes. 

When I go to Beijing, China in the summer to teach a course in business writing for American audiences, I arrive as planned on a Saturday but with little fanfare. I meet the first class on Monday full of jet-lag and improve greatly for the second class on Wednesday. Then I have a four-day weekend looming. Since I've seen all the big sites of Beijing, this first weekend I decided to check out a few small places I found on my map.

East end of the long, long park.

This year, on my first weekend, I set out with map in hand to find a park which had the ruins of the Yuan Dynasty outer fortress walls. I had passed it previously but never gave it much thought. One hardly thinks of ruins as something to see. After conquering my first bout of "Mao's revenge" and trying to sleep through the night while someone was singing with a karaoke machine in the park across the street from my hotel room, I had to get out - for my own good. My plan was to go out early before it got too hot but with a poor sleep I slept in a bit, then got up to write/edit my latest novel, the sequel to my vampire novel A DRY PATCH of SKIN. Then the housekeeper came, always within 5 minutes of 10 am. Then it was 11. 

Finally I got myself ready, thinking I could at least go to the nearest McDonald's for lunch, something to do. I'm not a regular of McD back home but when in foreign countries it provides a brief semblance of normalcy. So I checked my official Beijing 2008 Olympics map, which had all the McDs marked for advertising purposes, and decided to try a route that would take me to a different McD which I had never visited. I left my hotel, crossed the big avenue, and ducked into the park that ran parallel to the avenue. That was the Yuan Dynasty ruins.

West end pavilion.

Well, not much of the ruins existed at that location. On the map the park extended quite some distance to the west from where I started. So I walked...actually, it was a gentlemanly stroll. Most of the route was shaded by trees, thankfully. I walked along the ruins of the ancient walls, worn down to about a meter or less in height, like old teeth. It made a really nice park along an empty canal, with trees, flowers, play areas for children. Many families were taking advantage of the park but it was not crowded at all. 

At the west end there was an expanded area with statues of Yuan Dynasty people in all their finery, of modern construction but still interesting. They stood on top of a pavilion, just as real may have done at that spot a long time ago. As a writer, trying to create fictitious or historical settings, I find being at the site of ancient things to be fascinating. Like, did those people long ago ever imagine that some tourist teacher from American would one day be wiping his sweaty brow while standing on their pavilion? Probably not. More important things to plan for. But the location did make for nice photos. I always like to contrast old and new in the same picture: the existential theme of the impermanence of permanence. Here and gone. Like the wind. 

A modern depiction of those Yuan folks!

I exited the park at a formal gate, drenched in sweat from the hot sun. A girl handing out hand fans with advertising for a fitness center on it, gave me one. Thanks! I really needed a fan at that point. Following my map, I planned and walked along the tree-lined avenue to my destination: a department store with a McD. 

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The McD was busy when I entered. At the sight of a foreigner they whip out the English menu but I knew what I wanted and simply pointed to the picture overhead of one of their specials. I was able to get a table, too, so I enjoyed a leisurely lunch although the food tasted as expected; I guess it had been a while so it wasn’t that good. Then I went down a couple doors to a coffee shop I saw as I arrived at the McD. Inside, it was very Western and the A/C was great! I ordered an iced latte, took a table and relaxed. I even read 2 chapters of a paperback I’d brought with me.

Next I planned to go further and check out a science & technology museum I saw on the map. There was also a temple nearby. When I walked to the big interchange where the museum was, it seemed to be under renovation. I could not see where to enter or if it was even open. As for the temple, I could not see any sign of it but for a square of trees among a lot of high-rise buildings. It was hot and late enough in the afternoon that I decided I had accomplished enough for the day. It was time to walk back, probably about 5 kms by then. I followed the map, choosing a different route just for variety, and there was a subway station! 

Public flower pots along busy avenue!

I checked my map and route chart in the station to see how to get home. The station where I was required 2 transfers to get to the station nearest my hotel. So I did that. Except I went one station too far, past the closest one. Remembering my error last year, I made sure of the directions before I set out along the busy avenue. It was a fairly pleasant walk, despite the temperature being 95. Much of the sidewalk was shaded by trees. Finally I arrived at the intersection I was hoping for: the one where the Starbucks is located. I was right! 

Bus stop. I don't trust buses because I don;t know where they go.

Feeling how wonderful an iced latte would taste right then, I walked south enough to be able to look over to see if the Starbucks was really there—it was—but then I could not cross the avenue. Barriers had been set up so nobody could cross. I decided I was close enough to home to just keep going. It was 5 pm and dinner time, but I did not want any hot food, so I popped in at the Subway restaurant near the campus and got a sandwich and drink. Then I went to the 7-11 for more drinks, then to the hotel. As it turned out, that Subway sandwich with all its "fresh" veggies, introduced "Mao's revenge" to me again.

NEXT: The 798 Art Zone

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(C) Copyright 2010-2017 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

How I Ruined My Summer Vacation (2017 Edition) Pt 3

How to Return

It seems much easier to go than to return. Rather, it is easier to go to some place new and different than it is to pack up and return home. At least, in my experience. When it was time for me to return home after I went to Beijing to teach a course at a university, there were enough problems to make a blog post!

Having scoped out the Beijing Capital Airport on my previous trips, I knew where to go, what the best timing was, and how to prepare for the gauntlet. My first trip I went through San Francisco, which meant a noon-ish departure from Beijing. This is actually impossible. Even when my Plan A was to go to a hotel beside the airport to save taxi time. (You can recount that ordeal in this blog post.) My second trip, I went through Chicago, which meant a 4 p.m. departure, which was much better.

This time, I made my way to the big, shiny Hilton Hotel next to Terminal 3 (the international terminal). I'm not a rich person or a celebrity but I like to play one when I'm traveling. Actually, I selected that hotel purely because it is literally the closest hotel to the terminal. So to make my send-off spectacular, after checking in and being treated like royalty, I invited a dear friend to dine with me in a very expensive restaurant on the premises. 

When she finally arrived (subway from the city to the airport, then hotel shuttle from terminal to hotel), we went to the lobby cafe for some tea. I just ordered "Oolong" which is about all the teas I know. The uniformed server brought us a full tea service. We just stared at it, not sure what to do. There was a pair of cups for each of us, one tall narrow cup upside-down in the shorter, wider cup. In the middle of the tray was a small teapot. To the sides were apparatus somewhat familiar. We sipped the tea that had been poured. Still confused, we asked for instruction. Ahhhhh! It all made sense! We continued drinking our tea until we felt hungry. (*See instructions below.)

Dinner was a multi-course extravaganza that mixed Asian and Western foods, plus the right wine to go with each course. First was the bread and salad, then soup, then main course of cod and lamb, then dessert. As delicious and artistically presented as the food was, however, the best part of the dinner was the thoroughly delightful conversation about very important matters, which made the dinner seem to last for years. In a good way, of course.

Alas, finally, it had to end. Strolling about the huge hotel, all the marble walls, floors, and columns echoing every secret, we knew it was time to part. Another summer visit done. It was truly sad - but also a happy evening. It was the perfect way to end my 4-week visit to Beijing and begin my travel home.

After pleasant dreams, I arose as planned and made my way to the VIP lounge for the breakfast buffet. Plenty of time, no rushing. I had packed my suitcase full of laundry already. So I went down to the lobby at the appointed time, carefully measuring everything like a billiard player. Check out, get on the shuttle, arrive at the terminal, go up the elevator, and walk over to the check-in counter of my airline. Piece of cake.

My impeccable timing had me arriving at the counter with no one ahead of me in line. I was between the flights! Mwah-hah-hah! After getting rid of my laundry (in suitcase), I strolled to the first of several choke points in the departure process. First was the gate beyond which only those with boarding passes may go. Then the tram to the outer terminal. And so on. (You can read about the steps required in this blog.)

Due to my perfect timing, everything went according to plan. I even had a spare set of clothes to wear after going through all of the lines and sweating out the clothes I began the day with. No need to wear "used" clothes during a 13 hour flight. Plus 3 hour layover. Plus the 2 hour flight to my home city. I had tried that one set of clothing for the whole 24 hour gamut and those sitting next to me were not pleased.

Boarding the flight, I took the window seat I had chosen, thinking I could lean that way and sleep. Unfortunately, the window well did not match with the seat back, so it made my neck twist at an uncomfortable angle. Not even the soft new neck pillow I got with my last Yuan helped. Then the seatmate arrived. He was scheduled to sit next to me, the middle seat, with a girl on the aisle. She quickly claimed an empty seat in another row and the young man in the middle seat graciously moved to the aisle seat to give us both more room.

Why was more room a good thing? Because from the time this young man boarded, he was sniffling. We had to wait about an hour before we could actually take off into the sky. In that time, he rushed to the lavatory twice, his hand clutching his mouth, a sure sign of oral evacuation. I do not wish to alarm the senses of my readers, so I will allow you to use your imagination. Flight attendants nursed him throughout the flight. I tried not to breathe the same air. He began with chills, shivering, blankets all around but later in the flight had discarded them for what cool cabin air there was to bring down his fever. 

Twelve hours later I was sniffling. My throat felt scratchy. I tried to hold on. Indeed, I made it through the connecting hassles in Chicago and made it all the way home. The next morning I experienced what that young man must have been feeling during the flight. Stomach malady, with chills then fever, and evacuation from both ends. A miserable existence. I doubt I picked up his digestive illness; rather, it was yet another bout of "Mao's revenge" that I had been fighting throughout my visit. 

It is unfortunate that while we cannot choose our parents we also cannot chose our neighbors on an airplane. Nor can we be comfortable with whatever we may eat. That is what makes the world so exciting. Will one need to rush home at a moment's notice? Or will one need to make a pit stop in order to remain polite and decorous? There are maladies a plenty, something for everyone. At least I was not so indisposed for my wonderful send-off evening! Nor for the entirety of my 24 hours of travel back home!

Next: Mao's Revenge

*Instructions for the tea service. The tall, narrow tea cup which was presented upside-down in the short, wide cup is meant to be removed and sniffed. Yes, to enjoy the scent of the tea which has collected inside the tall, narrow cup. Then, when satisfied with the fragrance, the tea leaves are compiled into the holder inside the teapot. Hot water is added. Time will turn the tea leaves and water into "tea". Pour the tea from the teapot into the short, wide cup. (Frankly, the short, wide cup only holds one sip's worth of tea; I use a super-sized mug from the airport gift shop [see photo].) To keep the tea leaves from infusing the hot water too long and creating a bitter taste, the strainer inside the teapot should be removed and set upon the holder (on the left in the photo of the tray above). Continue to drink tea until the teapot is near empty. Because we sat in a tea cafe a hostess visited regularly to refill our teapot with more hot water. It could have been an endless, bottomless teapot but for our need to transition to solid food for the next phase of the evening.

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(C) Copyright 2010-2017 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.