I don't know where the time went, but between my last post and now they have barred pandora from being used in Canada.

I am back in the saddle and want to be a little more disciplined in my blogging. I am confident that it will happen because I bought a few good hats on holidays. Besides good music I need to be wearing a hat when I write - whether it was my thesis, work on my dissertation (more on my doctoral stuff to come), research for the government or whatever I always had a baseball hat on. I think I may have watched too many episodes of the Odd Couple and was inspired by Oscar Madison's (a la Jack Klugman) baseball cap.

One of the hats is a black Yankees hat - $5 from a Walmart in one of the 13 states we rolled through this summer (at different times Oscar's hat was a Met's or a Yankee's hat). The others are a Charlestown Chiefs hat from the Hockey Hall of Fame and a bright orange U of Tennessee hat (strategically purchased to offset the hue of my sunburned face).
Gotta go,

Migwec!

Pandora's Music Box....

I am once again working out of a home office. During my time as a HR consultant I maintained a home office - it made the most sense because any training/focus groups/etc I did were done on the clients property and then I would do the write-ups and reports on my own time. In the new shift of governance we are going through at SouthGate I no longer need to be at our downtown offices as much and so I spend most of my workday at home. Its been good but I have to admit it is harder than I thought it would be. In the first go round at the home office I held office hours between 11pm-2:30am - it was the best because no one else was awake (which reduced the number of interuptions phone calls etc.) and we had one child who didn't have to be anywhere. This time around I have to keep normal hours because I actually need to connect with real people and we have three children - two of whom are in school and have schedules.

A big part of my writing/working centers around finding the right music to act as a soundtrack to my thoughts. I need to find the connected-yet-disparate blend of music to go along with my nigh-unto-ADHD thinking process. Unfortunately my music buying days ended the same time my diaper buying days started and so I have an extensive but rather dated collection of CDs (and cassettes). But this week I stumbled across a literal answer to prayer in the form of www.pandora.com where you can set up your own stations that will begin to learn exactly what you like to listen to. Best of all it starts to introduce you to other artists that it thinks you will like based on your listening (and rating) patterns. You have to check it out!!

Migwec

Old ain't so old new ain't so new

I can often feel like a bit of an innovator - and as such I can be called on to break ice. More so than myself, I look at my wife as someone who has had to push through barriers throughout her career - whether in the local church or in denominational work. Don't get me wrong most of the barriers were not set up in a malicious or exclusionary fashion. Mostly our shared call has been one of getting people to think of things in a new way - women can do that? global missions can be done in our backyard?Somedays it feels a little tiring to crank up the ice-breaker and head out of the harbour...but you know that if you clear a path there is a chance that the bigger boats will be able to enter these missions.

But then this Christmas we re-connected with a special person in our lives. Mavis is the sister of a lady (Ione) that mentored Juli in the way to make a Children's Ministry have maximum impact. She also had a tremendous impact on me. We got to know Mavis through Ione. Ione has since passed away but we still try to stay in touch with Mavis.

Mavis and Ione were truly remarkable people. They were so committed to the cause of Christ that they dedicated themselves to plow through all of the misconceptions of what women could or couldn't do in the church (I can only guess they faced barriers because I have never heard either of them complain about the church or the barriers placed in front of them). Mavis was up in Canada over Christmas so we met in Langdon, Alberta for lunch and a chance to talk.

Mavis is the type of woman that not only maintains the archives, she also fills it. She has recently been interviewed as a part of the history of women in church. It was so encouraging to talk to her and have her tell us about what she is still up to in her local church and denomination. She is not really slowing down. It was also encouraging to see the interest she had in the work we were doing. She kept asking us what we were doing for the community and in the community, she wanted to make sure we weren't overlooking anything. All the while she kept reminding us that God called us and equipped us to do this work.

I left feeling that God has a special provision for innovators and he would look after us just like he looked after Mavis, Ione and thousands of ice-breakers before us.

Migwec

The Cost of Freedom

Last monday we had a meeting between the leadership of our church plant and our partnering church (aka Mother Church). In the begining there was a desire to be closely linked as an integrated multi-site church. This reality never developed and we are now moving towards being a more autonomous campus still under a multi-site model (for those that have done some reading in this area we have gone from the Community Christian Church approach to the New Life Christian Fellowship model).

One week later the joy of the meeting came to a halt - cue the sound of a needle scratching across a record - as I was informed that my ordination was going to be put on hold for this year by the mother church.

I would be crazy to say that the two are related but it sure feels that these things come in pairs. In fact I haven't really been pursuing my ordination at this point (as Charles Spurgeon 'splained it, ordination is 'empty hands being laid on a n empty head') but it was nice to be put forward and then it hurt to be unceremoniously dumped. Oh well, I still get to do the thing I love and feel called to in leading the folks at SouthGate so I will justy focus on that and move on.

Migwec,

Jeff

The Cost of Anger

I was away for a week doing some consulting for a group of provincial departments and crown corporations. I still do a little HR consulting on the side because (1) church planting isn't a get rich quick scheme and I have three kids a mortgage yada yada yada and (2) it keeps my head in the real world. I always book these junkets as holidays so I have severely abused the precept of Shabot over the last few years (something to be rectified in the New Year) but a change is as good as a break and I generally come back recharged.

During this particular set of meetings I decided to stay in my hotel and use the evenings as a time for prayer and rest (something sorely lacking in my real life). As I prayed I was amazed by the amount of anger that poured out. As I prayed there seemed to be a flood of faces and situations that I had pushed to the backburner over the last five years. It hurt to revisit these things but they had obviously never been dealt with and so I let it fly. It was very freeing to have a psalmic prayer time - a real Robert Duvall in the Apostle "sometimes he talks to God sometimes he yells at God" type of prayer. It made me think of all of the lost productivity and sideways energy expended. It has left me walking in numbness.

A while back I was at a lecture where Martin Robinson posed the question "Are you changing the Church of England or is the Church of England changing you?" It was a story he told that was to prompt us to ask the same question in our own contexts. As I have thought about this I have to admit that I have begrudgingly changed and become bitter not better as I have served. I have gone from 'happy go lucky' to extremely cynical in less than 5 years. Once a "young bottle-rocket and pepperpot" (an actual reference from a former professor) with a future in the academy I now am an oft-bitter, middle-aged guy with a slight shuffle in his step!

It has not been all bad but I carry some wounds (as we all do I imagine) that need to be healed. I am looking forward to this healing process in the new year even though I suspect it won't be easy - as I discovered during my angry prayertime.

Anyway thats my rambling for tonight and I have included a picture from my sketchbook (I will do this from time to time) that was inspired by Dr Robinson's question.

Migwec

Although the congregation I lead is in the southern most part of suburban Calgary I still have an office and some responsibilities at our downtown campus. It is funny to think that when the church was built in 1912 there was a considerable amount of noise regarding building a church so far out in the boondocks!

In many ways ministry is ministry. I started in youth ministry and then used alot of the skills in my role as an associate pastor looking after adults in the inner city - most of whom were marginalized because of language and/or poverty issues. I now use those same skills as the lead pastor of a newly developing church in suburbia. That being said I was hit with some of the differences late at night while I was in my downtown office.

Tonight, I passed by our custodian who was carrying a huge plumber's wrench - I asked him if there was a problem in one of the washrooms and he matter-of-factly replied (in a calm, smooth Sudanese accent) "No I'm taking out the garbage - last night some guys tried to hold me up for my car keys and I called the cops on them. But I told them that if they try it again tonight they will not be so lucky as me calling the police!" Not ten minutes later I was carrying some files from a room where my old office was and I noticed a light on in the office building across the street and there was a woman assembling her office furniture with nothing on but a skirt!! You just don't get these things in surburbia!!

It got me thinking about a night that pretty much sums up inner city ministry for me. It was a spring night and I ad led our evening service. At the time it was a service geared toward people with little to no church background, largely from the international community that surounded the church. It was great! I thought my message went well, the fellowship was great and when I walked out there was a cluster of men standing on the steps of the church. I recognized them as people at the service and one of our worship leaders. They were praying for one of the men (a member of the communist party when he was in China) who had just accepted that God was real and Jesus really did have a place in his life. It was awesome. It was everything I worked for; everything we dreamed of as a ministry team. I floated around the corner of the building to hop into my van for the ride home and almost walked right into a couple of homeless guys (who I also recognized) using the side of my van as a urinal!! Aaaahhh, the visceral smell of downtown ministry. They assured my wife and I they only hit the tires and not to get bent out of shape (though not actually in those words). I laughed the whole way home.

In a way I miss the surreal reality of downtown (if you can have sur-reality). No one put up much of an effort to hide that they didn't have it together. I know for a fact that there are many of the same struggles where I now minister. Abuse is rampant: physical, emotional, chemical, sexual... but it is tucked away behind a two car garage and the trappings of the good life so nobody sees it. Downtown I would watch the guys buy crack on the street corner across from my office before they would come to try and hit me up for a safeway voucher or transit passes.

I truly thank God that he has given me so many experiences: growing up on a reserve, teaching in universities in North America and Asia, ministering in the inner city and now planting a church in a suburban setting. I just pray he will also give me the wisdom to learn from these experiences. I also pray he will continue to give me the strength and encouragement to keep 'learning.'

Migwec!

I decided to put up a different picture because my daughter laughs every time she sees my other photo. She's only two, and she is right I do do look goofy in the picture - I really don't have much to work with. So this is an attempt to look more pensive and brooding. I also know that if I don't shave tonight my wife will do it while I sleep and so I thought I would immortalize my shaggy attempt at a beard through blogging.

I haven't done much blogging lately, most of the posts are from a journal I kept during my time in SW China. I think I have avoided it because I prefer to be seen as a 'roll-with-the-punches, happy-go-lucky' guy and I haven't been able to pull that of over the last year. On Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings the public/ministry persona can pull it off, but when I pause to journal/reflect I can be a bit of a sad sack - so I stopped writing.

Over the last month I have been amazed with how a friend has blogged his way through a difficult time and so I thought I would blow the dust off the keyboard and try to get back in the game.

This means there will be a gap between my last posts that really happened in the summer of 2005 and all of a sudden it is now November of 2006. That gap represents a 'long dark tea time of the soul' as Douglas Adams might label it; but it also represents some of my happiest times as well. I am the fully delighted father to three children (Mason 7, Micah 5 and Maggie 2) and husband to Juli. I am leading a community of people -most of whom have been called out of the margins- that are struggling to find God in new ways. It has been an incredible. As I look back on it I have enjoyed a 58 week long roller coaster ride and now it is time to step into the line up for the next ride.

Me, 3-Self and I…or, Sunday in Chengdu, Texas
Today we were planning to attend a church near our hotel, but the services started at 6am and so the plan was adjusted and we join with Ma Min and Kim to go to the 3-Self church that Ivan and Victoria Ho (CBM Missionaries) attend when they are in Mainland China. It is a very introspective day for me for several reasons, (1) this is the church Juli and I would have attended if we had gone to China with CBM and (2) we ate lunch near Sichuan University which is probably where I would have taught (in the Foreign Languages Department, the Canadian Studies Program or the new Christian Studies Program). It was a very difficult decision to stay in Canada and, although I was sure it was the right one, part of my time in China has been to confirm that in my own mind. The service at the 3-Self church is truly worshipful – it may have been because we are better rested and acclimated, it may have been that the songs were familiar songs we sing on Sunday mornings, it may have been that Ma Min translated the sermon as it was preached. Whatever it was it felt good to be in the house of the Lord on Sunday.

After we leave the church we go in separate directions – Greg and Russell go off to become international models – I am dying to tell this story but won't because you have to hear it from them!!! The rest of us head off to eat at a place Kim and Ma Min have discovered near Sichuan University, called Peter's Tex Mex. I go with a mix of thrill and fear – I remember finding a 'dead on Western' hamburger place in South Korea that Juli, my wife, informed me was nothing like the burgers at home – it seems taste buds are prone to amnesia.

The hamburger is amazing – it tastes very much like the ones Fuddruckers used to serve (I think they had them in Alberta). It is amazing how a little bit of home can encourage you to continue on in an adventure. Fully "westerned" up we leave Peter's for Computer City – multiple blocks and floors of the latest doodads, gadgets and gizmos that, once you see 'em you can't live without 'em. I am a good boy and don't spend money there. Truth be told it is really because I have found a foreign language bookstore that has a linguistics section…Juli, send more money please.

The quietest place in China
Since landing in the PRC I have been overwhelmed by the fact that, day or night, you are always in the middle of a crowd. On Monday I have a meeting scheduled with the Communist Party Secretary of Sichuan University. This is a very high political position at the largest and most prominent university of southwest China (I think I have that right). I have absolutely no idea what to expect, but she is the classmate of a friend who now lives in Canada – and because good people are friends with good people, I am assuming she will be good people ('cause Eric is definitely good people). I meet her and her daughter near the west gate of the university and we take a tour past several buildings including the Foreign Languages Department and the Intensive Language Education Centre. Because the weather has shifted from hot and humid to hot and humid and raining, we change gears and get a ride to the Sichuan University Museum – which has either just opened or is just getting ready to open, I'm not really sure which. At any rate we spend the next hour or so walking through the displays. At one point I am asked if I really want to continue the tour – I assured her that my first undergraduate degree was in anthropology / archaeology with an undeclared minor in Aboriginal Art History and it would take all six of the guards to haul me out from the displays of Tibetan and Sichuan Minority articles dating back to 300 BC.

What made the time at the museum more enjoyable is that we were the only ones there – we had the whole place to ourselves. As culturally adaptable as I pride myself in being, I still love my three feet of personal space.

I am brought back to reality at supper when we go out for chou sho – Sichuan-hua for hundun or wanton. The restaurant is crowded – but for good reason the dumplings are absolutely delicious.

The Chengdu Stampede
We teach two night classes a week. The first two we spent working on pronunciation. The second set we smartened up and went downtown to the evening market and shopped with our students (an exercise in Active Learning that I could readily defend if anyone questioned its pedagogical efficacy!!). Tonight we spent the night celebrating the Calgary Stampede. We watched video presentations on the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth. Margaret ( a.k.a. Cookie) turned the front desk into a chuckwagon and we had our very own stampede breakfast complete with pancakes and maple syrup. We momentarily worried about setting off a fire alarm, but considering we couldn't see any smoke detectors through the haze of cigarette smoke on our non-smoking floor, we put away our worries and went back to flipping flapjacks!

Yellow Dragons and Jumping Snakes
It is Saturday again and we are off to the countryside. The university has been very good at providing us opportunities to see Sichuan beyond Chengdu. Today we are traveling out to Huanglongxi or Yellow Dragon Stream. It is an old city that has lots of shopping and some old temples. As we walk to the town site we pass an amusement park – there are kids' rides and animal rides and ATV rides. All seem exciting, but nothing can compare to the thrill ride that is Chengdu traffic so we move on. Each of the shops has an interesting assortment of things to sell – but after a few blocks it seems like a bit of a fractal image as the shops seem to repeat themselves. I want to dispel the myth that all Chinese people do not look the same, but after awhile the Chinese shops sure do.

We tour through the old part of the city that has a restored court where trials, decisions and beheadings would take place. It is still used in movies made in China. Our class monitors point out some clothing we could put on if we wanted to look the part of the local governor or mayor. We spend the next fifteen or twenty minutes amusing the locals while Judge Russell condemns several people to death by beheading, relegates others to the stocks, and doles out several fines before he is forced out of office – something about lunchtime.

Our meal is largely made up of wild foods – the greens are grown on the side of a local mountain, the mushrooms came from the wild, the fish were caught in the wild as well – everything is wild right down to the fly in Margaret's soup (which is good because I hate the taste of those domesticated hatchery flies). It was really quite a good meal – although it is hard to eat in the heat …have I mentioned the heat?

In front of many of the shops there are basins full of fish and other such stuff. As we walk down one street one of those 'other such stuff' jumps out in front of Greg. With little reaction the old man sitting next to the basins reaches out and grabs the snake to put it back in the plastic basin. We discuss whether that may have been something we just ate down the road – but leave it as an unconfirmed item. We now take pride in the width and breadth of our 'stuff we ate' list.


We spend the rest of the afternoon touring shops and going on a boat ride before going to a temple upstream. As we walk up to the temple we are struck by the number of 'shoot the balloon with a pellet gun' games are in front of this peace-oriented temple. More that a few people suggest this might be a good thing to set up in our home churches when we get back. I dissuade this missions fundraising initiative - as someone who regularly fills the pulpit I don't relish arming any possible critics!

Old Dams and Panda Bottoms
We are teaching in the evenings so that it would free up our Saturdays for traveling (which freed up our Sundays for rest and worship). Each Saturday we have plans to explore the history and natural splendor of Sichuan. The first Saturday we went out to a 2000 year old irrigation system that is still in use today. We had the chance to wander through temples and wilderness – we even watched a traditional Hip Hop Tibetan dance troupe!!

In the afternoon we travel to the Panda research centre to see…you guessed it Pandas – of both the Giant and Red varieties. When we arrive we wander through extensive bambooed sections to see Pandas sleeping in air conditioned enclosures. As a side note (and it may be a point of further study for some zoology student looking to do his or her doctoral work on Giant Pandas) sleeping Pandas NEVER face the windows – so if you come over and I ask if you want to see my collection of Panda photos say, 'No.' – once you've seen one Panda bottom you've seen them all.

But I really don't blame them – the climate is incredibly hot and humid. I really have not ranted and railed about the heat enough – I almost dehydrated the other day while trying drinking a bottle of water – I felt like one of those cartoon cowboys that takes a drink after a gunfight and leaks out from all his bullet holes. Humidity is no friend of a fat man!
If I could find a way into the climate controlled cage I would join them. I really feel sorry for them – I am only growing a beard and contending with ample back hair – they have a full length fur coat on.

Somewhere there is a website that lists the ten dumbest places to grow facial hair and Chengdu is listed eighth.

Hide the children, Gigantor is on the loose
After a number of days my system is adjusting to its new life. In fact I am finally able to do the one thing I love to do when traveling in a new culture – I go out and stroll through the neighbourhood. As I walk I quickly realize that as much as I am scared of Chengdu drivers, they may be equally scared of me. Simply put, I am the largest things on Chengdu's road that doesn't have a motor or harness strapped to it.

At first I felt like a salmon swimming upstream through a river of bikes, mopeds and taxis. (Taxis seem to float between the major roads and pedestrian ways like they are the vehicular equivalent of amphibians.) I now realize that I need to enter the stream and not hesitate – show no fear. With a sense of entitlement I cross even the most congested major intersections. As a side note my prayer life has never been so vibrant.

I find the night is a better time to wander. I have a fairly simple set of "Rules of Engagement" for conversation: (1) if eye contact is made and held…we will converse (2) if you say "Hi," "Hello" or "I Love You" in ear shot of me…we will converse and (3) if your job requires you to talk to customers and I can therefore have a free Chinese conversation partner…we will converse. (Rule 3 is the one I always tell ESL students – make use of store clerks they're the easiest, cheapest tutors a language learner could ever hope for).

My favourite conversations are started by moms and dads that drag their child by the arm down the aisle of the Chain Store to say "Hello." On occasion they are dragged back to show the advanced standing their child has in the English class – with much consternation on the child's face (or that may just be pain from a now dislocated shoulder) and an equal measure of pride on the parent's face – I hear, "Happy Birthday!" When the parents let go of junior to pat each other on the back I attack. I begin by complementing the child's English and then drag out my own set of well-worn Putonghua phrases. To show my own advanced standing, I lay down a few words in Sichuan dialect - mostly I compliment them on their child, haitzi, which is the word for shoes in the rest of China. If I am feeling they are a particularly good crowd I repeat my sentence and point at their child and then at their shoes. We share a laugh and move on all parties feeling quite multilingual.

3-Self or is that 3-Cell Church
We went to church today. The experience is thoroughly surreal due to jet-lag, culture shock, the above mentioned supper and the fact that we wander through several rooms in different buildings and up and down stairs before we find ourselves in a room with a TV. As we sit there the room starts to fill. When the singing begins again we are handed hymnals – if my Chinese speaking skills are anemic, my reading skills are non-existent- and I try hard to make sense of the book, but I fail miserably.

I am not proud of it but I lose my battle to keep conscious and I find myself drifting in and out. I would feel worse if I didn't see people doing the same thing during my sermons on any given Sunday!! If it were not for cell phones constantly going off through out the service I may still be snoozing now. [editor's note: I had a much better experience at a 3-Self Church later in the trip when I was more awake and adjusted]

Yi-haw Ride 'em cowboy
Chengdu is home to 17 (or so) universities, one of them is the South West Nationalities University. It is home to the largest Yi culture programs in the world. Through a friend Maggie and I are able to visit an instructor of the Yi language.

It does not take long for me to revert to my field work training as a linguist. As I ride in this phonological rodeo I am reminded of Eric Liddell's quote, "I know I was made for China, but when I run I feel God's pleasure." I, too, know that I am living out what God has called me to – to pastor in a local church, but when I am working with language research I feel God's pleasure. The others in the room dissolve and it is just Ms Wang and I going through the sound system of this fascinating language that has received limited study – almost exclusively by Chinese scholars and a couple from SIL that are currently working in a remote village somewhere in SE Asia.

As we head back to the hotel I have to admit there is an added swagger to my step – after all I am now one of the English-speaking world's foremost experts on Yi phonology.

And the list keeps growing
I have confidence that the culture will eventually stop spinning or at least slow down enough that it will no longer be a blur, but I woke up today with an overwhelming sense of traveler's vertigo. We head out on a tour of the facilities with Angel and the head of the Foreign Affairs office, Victor. We also wander through the neigbourhood and go to the university campus. To cap off the day we join together for a meal.

I have always thought of my self as a regular Joe – if that is true in Canada it is doubly true in China. The food that I know and love is that of the Lao Bai Xing or 'common folk' (literally 'Old Hundred Names'). As we dive into the 'welcome meal' we eat everything with legs except the table!!

I have spent a good part of my life avoiding organ meat – and as a kid growing up in an Aboriginal community that is no easy feat. Speaking of feet…we ate chicken feet and pig feet and...Long story short (as Brian likes to say) we ate every part of the pig but the oink – and I am not sure if I didn't taste a little oink in one of the sauces.

Within 12 days of entering China we have eaten: dog, frog (both Chinese and American), donkey, talons, hoofs, duck bill & tongue, several chickens and ducks, both as "whole in the bowl' soup and as the separated bits such as artery, liver, gizzard, bowels, heart, lung, and then there was the stuff we were too scared to ask ' zheige shi shenme?" (What is this?)

In Xanadu did Kublai Khan
A stately pleasure dome decree…
We are met at the Chengdu airport by two representatives from CDUTCM (the university we are teaching for). As weary travelers (jet lag is setting in) it is encouraging to be met by Angel and Rebecca – two names nice to hear upon entering a new city in a new land.
We head off for the hotel. I hope it is good – we will be sleeping, eating, and teaching there for the next three weeks. As I enter the room – being an experienced traveler in Southeast Asia – I check for the essentials. The room has both an air conditioner and a western style toilet – everything else is details!!

We finally meet the other members of the teaching team – Maggie is from Nairobi, Kenya and James is from Cambridge, England. We set off to eat.

Shifting Gates and Sweaty Seats
The days of the week have completely blurred and I have no idea what day it is. Fortunately this is a feeling I remember from my university days. I don't mean this as an endorsement of the life I used to live as some sort of missiological training – I just mean I learned to operate with few of my faculties firing on all cylinders because of it.
One of the fun games we like to play in airport terminals is "What Gate is Our Flight at Now?" This is Air China's way of amusing non-Chinese Speaking foreigners. Randomly throughout the waiting time they will move the gate for boarding a flight. There is no warning and to keep it as interesting as possible they don't even let other Air China staff know.

As a group we assign one person to watch the information at the gate we are parked at and another to watch the flight information board and I, by default, am charged with listening for our flight number in Chinese (( have mastered the numbers 0-20 in Chinese!!!). Luckily there is never a fear of being late for a flight – I fully expect that they will still be holding the plane to Harbin for Passengers Li and Liu when we fly back through Beijing!!

The service on Air China has been wonderful – but I am not the target audience that they have geared their seating plan on. I don't fit comfortably into most Canadian jets, but being both fat and tall is really not working to my advantage in the PRC. For the first time since we landed in China I am glad for the 97% humidity - it allows me to squeeze into my seat. I am not sure the person sitting next to me shares my joy!

We are headed for Chengdu. We will spend the next 24 days in this city. It is the economical, political and educational centre of Southwestern China. It is also hot!!

Frog Dumplings, Terracotta Warriors and Omelets
We leave Beijing and head for Xi'an. Xi'an is one of those destinations I have always wanted to get to. When I was in grade seven I lived in Ontario and I can remember going to the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto. The big display at the time was a handful of figures from the Terracotta Warriors Museum in Xi'an. I fell in love with the idea of archaeology as a career choice. The Indiana Jones movies that came out in the following years helped cement it when I went to university. My BA in anthropology was the first in a long line of thoroughly unemployable degrees (or so I thought – thanks for hiring me FBC!!). All of them can be traced back to a group of clay soldiers from central China.

We head out for dinner at a restaurant that is four floors high and specializes in dumplings. We choose from meals named 18, 20 and 24 Dumpling. And true to the name there is a steady stream of dumplings. Admittedly the western palette loses its ability to distinguish the differences after the first 14. Of note are the frog dumplings and walnut dumplings and one we aren't entirely sure whether it is [Monkey Head] Mushroom or Monkey Head [comma] Mushroom Dumplings.

Our hotel in Xi'an is incredible – the service is wonderful. We wake up to a buffet that includes western and Chinese foods. After eating, we head off to the Terracotta Warriors Museum. It is a fascinating trip as we snake our way through the streets of Xi'an. We are quickly learning that China has a set of Traffic Guidelines (loose suggestions in the rural areas) more than Traffic Laws per se.

The day spent at the archaeological sites is marvelous – it was all I could do to keep from climbing over the railing and inspecting the digs a little closer. The presence of flesh and blood soldiers keep me from getting too close to the terracotta ones.

Forbidden City and New Friends
We wake up and head off for downtown Beijing. It is early, but day and night are irrelevant categories when you have just crossed the International Date Line. We crowd into two taxis and hope that we all wind up at the same place – I have to admit I am less worried than the other cab because I'm riding with Michael. We squeeze into a Beijing Subway. It is not as crowded as usual because the heat has been so extreme that employers are rotating days off to conserve energy – there's a good news bad news in there somewhere, but my brain isn't working so well.

We seem to move from one crowd into another as we surface at Tiananmen Square. There are thousands of people queuing in serpentine line that stretches back and forth across the square. As we move around the square we run into an English School from Mongolia visiting Tiananmen Square – we talk to the teachers for a bit and pose for pictures with the students. We soon make more friends as people come up to sell us little Red Books in Chinese and English!!! One particularly dedicated salesman is relentless until he is told we believe in "the wisdom of another book." Undaunted he puts away the red book and pulls out a set of Mao watches – apparently even we Christians need to know the time of day!