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Down by the river, every day, between 5.30am and 6.30am, there is a dog party in the shade under the Magnolia trees. Here is where I met Tina for the second time.
There is also a gramps and his granddaughter, walking in single file, each holding one end of a long stick with a hook on which I find later is to collect plastic bottles from far flung places for recycling. There are also joggers and people exercising.
Here also, under the 6 laned road bridge and the gathering pollution, the Kung Fu group is well under way by 6am practicing in the shade. A woman stretches, perfectly balanced on one leg with her other foot somewhere under it's opposite armpit for an unbelievable 3 minutes. The microphone, amp and speakers are cranked up, the instructor in pink silk and madonna-style head mic puts them through their paces.
I know that I miss the performance art and contemporary dance in the UK and Europe but even though it is not contemporary here - there is beauty and intensity in this movement. I become captivated by a man at the front of the group. There is no less expression
in his hands or feet than when I watch Janusz or TC from VDT or any of the dancers from Ultima Vez. His moves are as considered and as intense. This is not something he just does every morning, it is his calling, his trade, as it is with the contemporary dancers I've met in the UK. I can see a lifetime of movement in his clenched fist and eyes that never leave mine.
There is creativity the world over including in this old land. I waited and waited, builing his confidence in me. During the brief break, I asked if I could take photographs but I was already swamped by them all looking in my book and camera. They said I could take pictures of any of them, so I watched him and waited.
He has no idea how beautiful he is.
During the next break, I am again swamped by them all and I understand a little - that the man I have been watching is of course a professional - a Shaolin Master. His name is Chen Mei Sheng and he lives in Suzhou.
The music runs out while the instructor forgets her
Talicia - a shiney button
fluent in Putonghua, Romanian, French, and a little English. Awesome place to go to see the new baby. The group moves on silently to their own internal rythm - in synch.
If the eyes are the doorway to the soul, this man let me see into his, briefly. I'm mesmerized by his fingers, hands, feet and eyes. He knows it.
After two hours of being with them, they finish. I get ready to leave but am ushered around, my camera taken away and someone takes a photo of the instructor, the master and me. I am really laughing and make the master hold my hand. New connections made through simplicity and sincerity.
Last night I met the cutest button. She is 3 years old, Suzhou born to a Moldavian mother and French father. She's fluent in Mandarin, Romanian and French, with a little English. She was totally brilliant. Shiney eyes and thoughts. Her chinese is much better than mine. A child of 3 has a better grasp of Mandarin the me but we talked and she understood me.
And the night before, I saw Yoyo.
It’s got me thinking
About a dog I love/d also lost by default.
I carry a Chinese English Dictionary
because you bit the cover to pieces.
And when I see you I find it hard to breath.
A Chinese born Russian dog lives in Suzhou. I bought this dog with a boy I once loved. He was a gift to each other for last Christmas and he arrived on 16 November 2008. Exactly four months to the day, I left this dog behind because the boy I once loved tried to systematically kill me.
At that time we had two dogs and I loved them both equally though not every minute of each day. The dogs didn’t do anything but still they were punished by his adultery, her actions and by my leaving. I wonder how much a dog knows, how much it remembers, how much it builds as a story, a memory, a feeling or an understanding of love in their minds.
This dog, after 2 whole complete months apart, still remembers me, and excitedly expresses his affection when we meet.
A letter for Yo
Tonight, on the street, I saw you ahead of me, being walked the same path as I used to walk you. You’re being walked by her to meet
at Pandi's
my arms aren't really sticks - honest her lover (my ex boyfriend) exactly as I used to do. I wonder if you knew his lies and knew I was wasting my love on him.
I called your name and you came running, dragging her along behind. I did not look at her, I didn’t feel her I only needed to look at and speak to you. You cried and jumped up and cried and jabbed me with your paw. It’s so lovely to see you and I’ve waited patiently for this moment.
‘Hello darling, how are you?’
After stroking you and talking to you whilst she waited, doing nothing but allowing this to continue, I stepped aside and left you. You cried again as you walked away. When I warmly looked over my shoulder at you, you were also looking over your shoulder at me. Loyal dog. Disloyal Human. And, where is Bob bob?
The love of a human for a dog and the love of a dog for a human does not go away or fade. I did not cry because the hurt is buried deep inside the unhealed part of my heart. But it hurt, it really hurt. The peeling tissue
around the sore threatens to break me but I hold my chest and walk away. I dare not fetch my heart out to check it because it may burst open for the lost love for my dog. It is not just A dog I miss. It is yoyo.
Hey, Yo, the next time, I must remember to tell you that Song Song had a baby and she misses you too, like I do.
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