
Some cool ex boyfriend images:
Shadows Of A Lost Love (2)

Image by CarolynAdin
my ex-boyfriend gave me these roses
Zachary

Image by Art Freak
My ex-boyfriend with his beloved pumpkins.
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How To Get Your Ex Back

Some cool ex boyfriend images:
Shadows Of A Lost Love (2)

Image by CarolynAdin
my ex-boyfriend gave me these roses
Zachary

Image by Art Freak
My ex-boyfriend with his beloved pumpkins.
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A few nice long distance relationship images I found:
New horizons – Pluto and the Kuiper Belt

Image by tonynetone
NASA IMAGES
New Horizons extreme distance from Pluto and the Kuiper Belt, fastest launch speed ever recorded It will arrive at Pluto on July , 2015 Pluto unexplored planet in the Solar System. On April, 2006 the spacecraft passed the orbit of Mars,faster trajectory to Pluto,After passing Pluto,continue further into the 2016-2020 Kuiper Belt. March 2011 Uranus’ orbit. August 2014 Neptune’s orbit. Leave the solar system in 2029.
7 Mar 1996 – March 7, 1996: For the first time since Pluto’s discovery 66 years ago, … The Hubble telescope’s snapshots of nearly the entire surface of Pluto
(-see also the plot about -Pluto Planet-)
Plutos atmosphere
Pluto’s atmosphere carbon monoxide in Pluto’s, atmosphere has finally met, with success huge atmosphere of carbon monoxide.planet known orbiting its host star and having its own moons to have an atmosphere and until now icy orb’s atmosphere has expanded dramatically since 2000,astronomers Pluto-huggers? a full-scale planet that from some astronomers as has been classified a "minor" Pluto’s atmosphere would have important effects on the planet’s the atmosphere confirmed, the presence of carbon monoxide in the atmosphere of Pluto,after a worldwide search that lasted nearly two decades. Pluto fits the planet definition of being round and orbiting its own star and having its own moons around it,this part it is very important which makes Pluto a planet. Pluto is composed primarily of rock and ice, orbital period is 248 Earth years due long distant from the Sun, so orbit appearing to cross that of Neptune which its orbit crosses the ecliptic, are currently separated from Neptune’s by over 21°.[56] natural of the alignment between Pluto and Neptune’s orbits does not change. From 1979 to 1999, Pluto was the eighth planet from the sun highly elliptical orbit again become the Solar System’s most distant planet. From January 1979 through to 11 February 1999 Pluto was closer to the Sun than Neptune.
Pluto Planet
Big argument about Pluto continues the most up-to-date book on the solar system,Worlds that discusses of the controversy over the planet of Pluto and Eris. Pluto is a planet? YES Pluto is the ninth and smallest planet of our solar systemobject Change orientation or direction,the Planet knowledge around the Sun also in the abstract sense of scientific knowledge around our Solar System,it had the same orbit around the Sun as Mars,important Planet orbiting the Sun. Diameter of Mercury: 3,032 miles. —————————————————————— Diameter of Ganymede (Jupiter’s biggest moon): 3,272 miles ——————————————————————Diameter of Moon: 2,159 miles ( Earth’s) ———————————————————————–—- Eris was discovered in 2005 by planet-hunting —Diameter of Eris: 1,500 miles, and first new planet found orbiting the Sun in 75 years. Eris can be no more than 1,454 miles (2,340 kilometers) —————The new observation 2010———— Diameter of Pluto: 1,430 miles. Pluto is believed to be 1,456 miles across. So is Pluto 2 miles wider. —————————————————————— Diameter of Ceres: 590 miles. —————————————————————— Mercury’s orbital eccentricity: 0.21.——— Pluto’s orbital eccentricity: 0.25 —————————————————————— Pluto’s controversial Pluto is two and a half times the diameter of Ceres,also Pluto is not an ice ball,but large member of the Kuiper belt, Mercury and Venus have no moons,Pluto have litle moons, known as, Charon, Nix and Hydra., as small planet and the farthest known planet from the sun; it has the most elliptical orbit of all the planets, Pluto was discovered in 1930.Pluto orbits beyond the orbit of Neptune
Pluto Planet.htm
—————————————————————— In Roman mythology, Pluto (Greek: Hades) is the god of the underworld.
—————————————————————— The New Horizons spacecraft, scheduled to arrive at Pluto in 2015 —————————————————————— Our solar system consists of the sun, planets, moons, many dwarf planets, Astronomical Union officially designated Eris and Pluto “dwarf planets.
Fact that they never hadn’t cleared their orbital zones of other rocky objects that Pluto was frequently described as “the largest Kuiper belt object”.
The Kuiper Belt and the Oort Cloud
A planetary system consists of the various non-stellar objects version of our solar system there could be as many as planetary system discovered a planetary system containing at least some planets in the mass range prompted a fine tuning of the definition of a planet orbiting other stars beyond our solar system extrasolar planet, extragalactic planet is a planet that is outside the Milky Way Galaxy. Solar System beyond the planets extending from the orbit of Neptune show where Kuiper Belt Objects are suggested that comet-like debris also known as the Edgeworth-Kuiper Belt an area of the solar system one of the larger Kuiper belt objects Quaoar direct relationship to the mass smaller than Ceres,Kuiper belt observed and mapped, only four currently known trans-Neptunian objects like Sedna diagram compares Pluto’s orbit with a Kuiper Belt .
Oort cloud’s surrounding the planetary system and extending is a massive spherical cloud contains as many as six trillion comets Halley-type comets ,asteroid belt is the region of the Solar System located roughly between the orbits of the planets Mars and Jupiter, main belt is contained largest objects like Ceres,giant swarm of objects is now named the Oort Cloud,Kuiper Belt indicate that the Kuiper Belt probably formed first objects within the Kuiper belt are affected by the gravitation of the planets.these orbital characteristics the beyond and realm of the planets cloud is a huge spherical cloud of comets and dust and other object extends from the Sun in all directions.
The Kuiper Belt and Oort Cloud have never been observed for explanation for a source of comets and objects within, merely a hypothetical storage area enhanced learning seems sadly out remained theory until New Horizons will go to a KBO after it passes Pluto was launched on January 19, 2006 for the purpose of exploring the Kuiper Belt, Kuiper Belt and Oort Cloud, New Horizons spacecraft, which is scheduled to arrive at Pluto on July 14, 2015 is now halfway between Earth and Pluto, that give Information and facts about the objects in the outer system.
New Horizons studies interplantary space
New Horizons studies interplantary space 5 ways with 4 sensors using UV spectrometer and elegant way of plotting out the history of interplanetary space 2 was launched on August 20, 1977 and Voyager 1 on September 5, 1977, now New Horizons seeks to learn more about using thermal ionization or plasma source ionization mass spectrometry.
Most interplanetary missions are flown to collect science data,is also the start of an innovative way of developing counting experiment mission and studies by International patterns to travel interplanetary space so far from the Sun, interplanetary probe designed to study Pluto is currently making 15.73 kilometers per second on its way speeding through the darkness of interplanetary space which covers regions of interplanetary space never before like the Cassini, an interplanetary space mission to Saturn launched in October 1997,carried out a four-year study of the planet Saturn mission details and educational resources.
New Horizons is a mission designed to fly by Pluto, Charon, and on into the Kuiper Belt,physical sciences research for a new era of Space exploration. New Horizons pluto scheduled to cancelled by the time negotiations,between strong proposal emphasis able to assess the content, organization, and continuity NASA dispatched pressure increasing costs to permit the cancellation who was perceived as not being able to cancel the Pluto interplantary New Horizons studies.
Originally designated the Pluto Fast Flyby, it was scheduled to reach Pluto by 2012. The mission was cancelled for budgetary reasons, but later replaced by the similar New Horizons,NASA’s will be the first spacecraft to visit Pluto and the Kuiper Belt that away from Earth orbit than any previous vehicle launched into interplanetary space and to traverse interplanetary space so far from the Sun, to reach the high inclinations of Pluto orbit planet’s four inner moons,will look as in 2015 observation spacecraft.
Up to date on October 14, 2011 –
Dwarf planet Eris smaller than Pluto Eris passed in front of a star, allowing a more accurate measurement. Using two telescopes in Chile smaller than Pluto approaches it’s closest point to the sun to be the largest body in the outer solar system, new measurements indicate.
up to date 12/26/2011 by tonynetone live:
Complex organic molecules may be scattered across the surface of Pluto Space Telescope has reportedly discovered evidence a struggle between the individual and the corporate world, Protests will increase as will the efforts to repress them as a Planet. We collected Principal Investigator for the New Horizons mission to Pluto and the Kuiper Belt stay tuned on this site.
07/365 11.11.010

Image by Perfidiousgoddess
2 months here in valencia today! It seems much longer.. I don’t know..I like my life here (sort of) but I miss my old life in Italy so much..
I wrote a message on the whiteboard for my friends..telling them that I miss them,, and that I saw that distance doesn’t kill relationships, so I know I can go on with my life here in Spain, still having them here with me..
Today is my day for them
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Some cool long distance relationship images:
IMG_2852

Image by Wootang01
15.5.09
We’re driving towards the orphanage. The highway is lonely, save for a few languid trucks ambling along. It is damp too, and a thick fog covers the countryside: a single light here or there provides the only hint of civilization amidst the interminable verdure. Inside the van, the smoke of cigarettes past wafts in the air, lingering like a lost soul. I inhale, and quickly cough. I subsequently open the window to the enveloping darkness outside, so slightly as to not disturb my companions in the back. The roar of the road echoes in my ears.
An unexpected wrench was thrown into our travel plans today. The trip began expediently enough as the bus on which Candy and I rode reached the Shenzhen airport with hours to spare; however, the unscheduled hiccups soon followed. We received an announcement over the public address system notifying us of a flight delay, due to a mysterious military maneuver, we deduced, high in the Shenzhen skies. Several more sonorous reminders came in punctual succession over the next six hours. It seemed as though we would be stuck, stranded really, at the airport forever, or for the day at least. Thankfully, after the police arrested some of the more aggrieved passengers, we finally boarded the plane and took off for central China. We were blessed to be on our way at last, none of us having blown a gasket during the afternoon tedium.
One more pitch black road awaited, down a single lonely lane lined with swarthy trees, standing as though sentries, and at length we arrived at the orphanage. The car stopped in a clearing, and we stepped out, onto a cement lot with soft puddles spread silently beneath our feet. We squinted into the twilight, our eyes trying to make sense of the surroundings. Our bags were unloaded, we made our way to the rooms, and soon enough fell asleep. I think we all enjoyed the repose, rendered especially comfortable by the new guest rooms in which we were staying.
16.5.09
We have only been here for barely 24 hours, yet it feels as though we have been here for much longer, as if time at some point in our journey decided to slow itself to a crawl. Maybe it was because of the litany of activities that we packed into the span of several hours, or perhaps it was the lack of worldly distractions, allowing us to focus solely on our mission, that caused us to suspend the hands of that imaginary clock in our mind. Whatever the case, we’ve enjoyed every minute at the orphanage; it is time definitely well spent in service!
Morning call was at 6:20; and after a prayer meeting we went down to finally visit the kids. They were playing on the vast driveway of the orphanage, savoring their moment of freedom before breakfast. To see so many friendly faces, in spite of their precarious physical and filial circumstance was definitely encouraging. I made a multitude of new friends; and did my best throughout the day to impact those kids with joy, honesty and patience. It is a powerful cocktail which brings love immediately to many.
The food at the orphanage is without processing, as natural as victuals can be in these days of impersonal industrial production. Large chunks of mantou, steaming bowls of soupy congee, and salty vegetables with slivers of meat have characterized our meals. It is the kind of humble stuff that lengthens life spans, and disciplines the palate.
We presented a wide range of activities – structured and unstructured; whole class and small group – to the kids, in the hope that we would manage them as much as amuse. In the morning, as though breaking the ice once were not enough, we ran through a series of dizzying, if not at times totally incoherent, activities designed to familiarize our dispositions to each other. Later, we established a makeshift fun fair, at which we ushered the children to rooms filled with (board) games, and puzzles, and other, more colorful activities such as face painting and balloon making. The kids couldn’t at length contain their enthusiasm, busting into and out of rooms with impunity, soaking in the rapturous atmosphere. In the afternoon, our team attempted to tire them out: running topped the agenda, and by leaps and bounds, the activities, whether straightforward relays or schoolyard classics like duck duck goose and red light, green light, indeed began to tucker our charges out. We, too, were pretty beat by the time night began to creep over the horizon!
17.5.09
Yesterday evening, we surprised the students with a musical performance, followed by forty minutes of bubble-blowing madness; to be sure, the students could not appreciate our somewhat accurate rendition of Amazing Grace so much as the innocent madness of dipping one’s hands in a solution of dish detergent and corn syrup and then whispering a bubble to life; and indeed, the moment the Disney branded bubble-making machines churned the first batch of bubbles into the air, with much rapidity weaving their frenetic pattern of fun, chaos erupted in the room. The students stormed the soap basin, and almost overwhelmed my teammates who valiantly held the Snitch and Pooh high above the heads of the clamoring kids.
During the evening’s festivities, I grew progressively ill, until at last I dashed out of the room to sneeze. Outside, in the cool of the night, under a cloud of stars beaming so far away in the deep of space, I exploded in a rancor of sneezing. The fit lasted for five minutes, an inexorable depression in my system which sent both my body and my esteem tumbling down. I felt bad, not only for my exceedingly rickety health, but for my teammates and the children who may have been exposed to my sickness as it incubated within me; furthermore, everyone in the classroom was saying goodbye and all I could do was rid myself of a sniffle here and there, in between rounds of bursting from nostrils and sinuses. I was impotent, as though one of my insignificant droplets on the floor!
18.5.09
We are in a car heading towards a famous historical site in Henan. The driver’s drawl slips slowly from his mouth, and what he says resonates intelligibly in our ears. Candy, Tanya and the driver are discussing Chinese mythology, and history, which, for better or for worse seem to be inextricably intertwined. We narrowly just now missed hitting an idle biker in the middle of the road; in dodging our human obstacle, the car swerved into the oncoming traffic, sending us flying inside the cabin. Reciting a verse from a worship song calmed our frazzled nerves.
How to describe the children? Many of them smiled freely, and were so polite when greeted that undoubtedly they had been trained well at some point in the tumult of their life education. Precociousness was also a common characteristic shared by the kids, whose stunted bodies belied the mature, perspicacious thoughts hiding just underneath the skin. Of course, in our time together we were more merry than serious, that quality being best left for the adults working silently in their rooms; and to that effect, the kids brought out their funny bones and jangled them in the air to stir up the excitement and to destroy by a jocular clamor any hint of a dull moment – we really laughed a lot. At last, although not all of them seemed interested in our staged activities – rather than feign enthusiasm and eagerness, some skipped our events altogether – those who did participate, most of them in fact, enjoyed themselves with abandon, helping to create that delightful atmosphere where the many sounds of elation reign.
Of the students whom I had the opportunity to know personally, several still stick out in my mind, not the least for my having christened a few of them with English names! David was bold, and courageous, willing to soothe crying babes as much as reprimand them when their capricious actions led them astray; he had a caring heart not unlike a shepherd who tends to his young charges. Edward, who at 13 was the same age as David, definitely grew emotionally, not to mention physically attached to me. He was by my side for much of the weekend, grabbing onto my hand and not letting go, to the point where I in my arrogance would detach my fingers within his, ever so slightly, as if to suggest that a second more would lead to a clean break – I know now that with the cruel hands of time motoring away during the mission, I shouldn’t have lapsed into such an independent, selfish state; he should have been my son. Another child who became so attached to the team as to intimate annoyance was the boy we deemed John’s son, because the boy, it seemed, had handcuffed himself to our teammate, and would only free himself to cause insidious mischief, which would invariably result in an explosion of hysterics, his eyes bursting with tears and his mouth, as wide as canyon, unleashing a sonorous wail when something went wrong. On the other hand, Alice remained in the distance, content to smile and shyly wave her hand at our team while hiding behind her sisters. And last but not least, of our precious goonies, Sunny undoubtedly was the photographer extraordinaire, always in charge of the school’s camera, snapping away liberally, never allowing any passing moment to escape his shot.
That I learned on this trip so much about my teammates verily surprised me, as I thought the relationships that we had established were already mature, not hiding any new bump, any sharp edge to surprise us from our friendly stupor. So, consider myself delightfully amazed at how a few slight changes in the personality mix can bring out the best, the most creative and the strangest in the group dynamic: admittedly, Candy and Tanya were the ideal foils for John, they eliciting the most humorous observations and reactions from my house church leader, they expertly constructing a depth of character that even last week, in the wake of the Guangdong biking trip, I never knew existed! Most of all, I’m glad to have been a part of such a harmonious fellowship, for the fact that we could prayer together as one, and encourage each other too, and all the more as we saw the day approaching.
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Some cool long distance relationship images:
Situated Meaning in the Empire of the Indexes

Image by timtak
My understanding of Pierce in this description is sorely misguided. Icons are a seperate class of sign.
I have been claiming that while the Westerners tend to be very "logocentric" or linguistic, Japanese are more inclined to concentrate on visual information, especially when it involves themselves. Hence Westerners care about linguistic self-expression, and carry around with them an "Other" or "Superaddressee" that reflects their speech acts upon themselves. And Japanese care about visual self expression (clothes items, things, pointing) and carry around with them, a "mirror in their head" (Heine and Takemoto, et. al).
However, lately I have been forced to realise that Jane Bachnik is right and I was wrong: It is not that the West is linguistic and Japan is "occular," nor even that Western signs are sounds rather than images, but rather it the difference is in the way that Japanese and Westerners use signs, or the type of signs that they use.
Jane Bachnik claims that Japan is (to paraphrase Barthes) "the empire of the *indexes*".
What are indexes? Indexes are a type of sign, in American linguist Pierce’s taxonomy of signs. Their most famous subgroup are icons, such as on your computer screen. Icons are strictly speaking, indexes that have a resemblance to that which they represent, such as the famous trashcan which represents the deletion of computer files and thus has a likeness to its meaning. More purely indexical is the Nike logo, called a "swoosh," which gets to mean "Nike" by virtue of the fact that it is printed on all their products and displayed at the end of their adverts, rather than by its similarity to a running shoe. Indexes get their meaning by their "contiguous relationship" with the thing that they refer to. That means that they are often displayed at the same time in the same place, or immediately before or afterwards in time and space. Many of the typical examples of indexes are natural phenomena related causally, hence smoke is an index for fire, thunder an index for lightening (and vice versa), and the mercury in a thermometer is an index for the temperature. Perhaps the important thing about indexes is that they have a direct, one-to-one relationship with that which they represent. As mentioned in my previous post, indexical thought may have a lot in common with "savage thought" as defined by Levi-Strauss. Indexes are one part of the word, used as a sign for another part.
What other types of signs are there? That a sign has a direct one to one relationship with that which it represents may seem pretty much the way that all signs are. But Saussure, and even ancient Buddhists have pointed out that linguistic signs (at least in the West!) are defined by their relationship to other signs, "cat" is understood by its relationship to "bat," and "dog." Phonemic words (at least) mean, have meaning, by virtue of not being other words.
Returning to indexes, another famous example of an index is a pointing finger. It has meaning because you can see what it is pointing at. Jane Bachnik proposed the theory that indexes are important to the Japanese from consideration of the importance of such words such as inner and outer ("uchi" and "soto") or front and back ("omote" and "ura"), which are used extensively to describe social interactions. Like pointing fingers however, these spacio-metaphorical words have meaning in contextual locations, and shift their meaning depending upon who is saying them. Inner (uchi) e.g. my family, for me will be outer (soto) for you and vice versa. Bachnik struggles with this shifting aspect of indexes, and I believe emphasises their shiftiness more that I do. Indeed, I think that is were Bachnik and I differ. For Bachnik indexes are inherently shifty and subjective, but for me, I think it depends upon the culture from which one looks upon them. I will come back to this point but first I will introduce some examples of where Bachnik’s theory of Japan as the empire of the indexes is useful.
A few days ago I was out in a river bay on my kayak and at 6 o’clock, or one or two minutes before or after came the sound of the tannoy sound system that announce this time (and perhaps that it is time for dinner, time to go home from the rice fields) to the local inhabitants. Some of the 6-oclock-sounds were simply sirens, others were the melodies from folk songs (often Scottish, for reasons unknown) and there was one sound of someone ringing a temple bell. Since they localities around the bay were slightly out of sync, the continued for about 5 minutes, before the bay returned to silence. These sounds can be heard at least twice a day, also at noon. In some rural prefectures the local town hall will make announcements such as "the primary school children have all safely returned from their school trip." Sticking to the noon and 6pm sirens, it is clear that that they are phonic not visual signs, so bang goes my theory that the Japanese are into their visuals. This is a very Japanese, very phonic sound. It is also an index. The sounds get their meanings (certain times of day) by occurring at those times of day, contiguously with the little hand of the clock pointing at six.
More importantly, it would be very untrue to suggest that the Japanese do not place considerable significance on language, but the way that they do it is different. It is easy to point to areas in which, from a Western, logocentric point of view, the Japanese do not seem to place a great deal of importance upon language. "Japan is a society without dialogue" as Nakajima points out, (Taiwa no Nai Shakai), in which university students never ask questions, decisions are made before committees deliberate (and debate) on the issues, political debate tends toward the grey with the manifestos of all parties being very much the same, rules are often reinterpreted in surprising ways (e.g. "scientific whaling"), there is a lot of flattery ("oseiji"), and there are books extolling the vagueness of the Japanese. At the same time however, there are some instances in which it is clear that Japanese take words *really* seriously.
Today there was a tragic story in the only English language "Japan Today" news site. An eight year old Japanese girl committed suicide apparently because she had been the victim of bullying. And the bullying consisted (perhaps solely, since the culprit remains unknown) in finding the word "die" written on her pencil case and books. As the father of a daughter my heart goes out to the parents. At the same time, as a Westerner I find myself confused. In Anglophone countries it has become vogue (and the subject of pop song lyrics) to tell people to go away and die in far more offensive language, but I doubt that many or any of the "victims" feel as traumaticised as this 8 year old did. It is clear that some words can be very offensive in Japan, and that the Japanese can take them very seriously with tragic results.
That Japanese take bad words seriously is supported by the fact that there are few expletives in Japanese. Instead of accusing someone you intensely dislike of being incestuously involved with their mother, one claims that their mothers belly button sticks out. The word for the female sex organs is felt to be so rude that it can not be used, so that Japanese sex educators have had to experiment with the use of "girl willy."
A Japanese teacher of debating skills bewails the aforementioned lack of debate in Japan, ascribing it to the belief in the spirit of words. He argues that debate requires that one examine the pros and cons, the positive and negative outcomes of an act. Japanese do not like to talk about negative outcomes, lest they come true as a result, so debate is often avoided. Hence it is precisely the belief in *the power of words* motivates the avoidance of dialogue.
This phenomena again relates to the theory of indexes. Indexes have meaning by their direct relationship with that which they mean, rather than by their position in a language or discourse. Thus the word death may conjure up the state and event of death far more strongly among Japanese (who avoid even homonyms of the word), than among Anglophones for whom death is associated with life and birth. Speaking the word "death" to an indexical thinker may even bring death upon them, but speaking the word death to a linguistic dialogic thinker may bring them to life.
That Japanese see words as being particularly disturbing is often related to their belief in "word-spirits" (kotodama, shinko). This is the ancient belief that words hare imbued with spirit such that their utterance can make the word come true. Hence for this reason, certain words weakly related to the concept of divorce (such as "go home") are avoided at Japanese weddings lest they encourage the bride to "go home to her parents" and divorce the groom.
Finally, returning to Bachniks feeling that indexes shift more than other types (our types) of sign, I can not agree. Words in western society, even those that underpin our society, such as freedom and justice, good and bad, are interpreted in many ways. That they share particular interpretations, and remain important to us, is the result of a cultural practice of internalising language via the "Other" "Generalised Other" or "Superaddressee" of language. This linguifying of the psyche does not have to be done, and the Japanese do not do it. On the other hand, that Japanese identify far more greatly with the visual self representations, theire face, and with "lococentric" (Lebra) clasifications of society such as inner and outer (uchi and soto) does not imply that Japanese society is more shifting, but rather that they have learnt to internalise a co-experiencer, a mirror in their head (Heine and Takemoto et al.), something with which to nail the context down, to sew the subjective worlds of experience, these fish-bowls together.
A long quote from Bachnik
Bachnik, J. M. (1998). Time, space and person in Japanese relationships. Interpreting Japanese Society. Anthropological Approaches. London: Routledge, 91–116.
98 This is an important point. At issue are two different approaches to language (and the world outside ourselves): through reference (namin) and through the distance cline that the speaker signnals between self and other. The second approach relates more closely to Charles Franklin’ Peirce’s system of Signs than it does to that of Ferdinand d Saussure. Peirce’s approach to signs is defined in terms of relationships and breaks down into tripartite sets of relationships between symbol, icon, and index. The index, considered by Peirce t obe the most important of the three kinds of signs, communicates a relationship between teh entity signalled and the signalling entity (smoke is an index of fire, a rap on teh door is an idex of someone seeking entry; see hartshorne and Weiss, 1931; Buchler, 194).
More pertinent to this discourse, a pointing finger is also an index, which "is based upon the idea of identification, or drawing attention to, by pointing (Lyons {p99} 177: 637). For example, ‘this’ and ‘that’, here and there, now and then -all these are pointers from the speaker’s perspective. The speaker as I anchors the discourse as the zero-point from which spatio-temporal distance is gauged; the relationship between speaker and addressee (and or referen), which indexing communicates, is also spatio-temporal. My user here of the term ‘index" corresponds to the meaning of the term "deixis’(note 6)
Indexes are thus performative, rather than purely referential. ‘I’ does more than simply name the spekaer – I is also in space and time, the very I who is uttering this statement here and now. To put this even more strongly, I is what alloes here and now to be understood in the first place. Seen in this way, pronous are pointers, and one of the major functions which I performs is that of locating, anchoring the discourse (ibid.; Benveniste, 1971:226)
These two persepectives on language – reference and indexing – can be related to the two perspectives of self and other.
In the notes the author updates her paper to call her "index" a referential index.
Charleston, George Street

Image by hdes.copeland
Charleston, SC. George Street. Side view from east side. Photo taken December 2008.
This mid 19th Century Charleston house with side hall is located just east of the city’s traditional retail trading district which grew up on the main road that led inland from the port city. At the time this house was built it was located only two blocks south of the city’s northern boundary. Francis Marion Hotel can be seen in the distance to the right in this photo and it marks those limits at what was formerly known as Boundary Street.
This side view of a 3 story masonry house built during a period when Greek revival was in vogue, c.1840, shows how a typical Charleston style house was arranged on a deep and narrow lot. The bulk of the main or formal living space was situated on the street with lesser dependencies stacked in descending order toward the rear of the property. This reverse telescope order of importance created a formal street front leaving informal working or service areas hidden at the rear. When an entire city block was built out with many such houses, it created a fortress-like arrangement facing the surrounding streets and provided, at lease visually, a common courtyard as the lesser dependencies appeared to be aliened toward a common center. In practice this was only implied since each lot usually contained its own courtyard surrounded by a privacy wall to contain animals, children and the prying eyes of neighbors on all but the upper floors.
In this example the order of rooms on the ground level would have been as follows, from left to right, in the photograph: 1. Formal entrance with adjacent carriage gate to rear, just out of view to left. 2. Entry opens to main stair hall with stairs to 2nd level or main living floor. 3. Main receiving room to right of entry. This would have been an office if the owner was a professional or merchant who received clients. 4) A dining room was the second or third room moving to the rear of the property, or right in the photo. 5) A covered passage way, later enclosed, connected the dining room to the kitchen in a building that was originally constructed to be separate as a precaution against kitchen fires spreading. 6) To the rear or right of the kitchen building, out of range of this photo, would have been a stable or carriage house, tack room. 7) Last in descending order, but not least except for its size, would have been the privy or outhouse. 8. Formal entertaining and family common rooms with more elaborate finishes were on the 2nd level of the main house, while servant’s quarters were smaller rooms above the kitchen and carriage house. 9) The third level was the location of additional bedrooms for family, more typically children and other servants. In each case chimneys can often be seen and used to help define the location and use of specific rooms.
This house is among the few surviving examples of this contribution to the historic urban block as a fortress. Many have been torn down to make way for surface parking lots or to construct contemporary buildings designed to newer zoning standards that often encourage the exact opposite of what the historic models would support. Current zoning regulations in many cases would require that the lowest elevations of a new building be placed nearest the street while reserving the rear for the tallest part of the buildings. This creates a step pyramid which is the reverse of the historic example shown here.
Also shown here are other examples of failures by modern planners to read the historic rules of urban design. Only in the city’s core is the concept of zero setbacks applied with precision. This would be where the oldest structures are located, or along the commercial corridors where land values were commensurate with the income potential of the businesses that occupied them. In all other areas gates, low walls and elaborate fences provided the desired zero lot lines leaving the developers of residences, large and small, to be positioned in slightly removed from the street right of way. This allowed for a slight variation in the streetscape to be seen in the more affluent residential neighborhoods while keeping the medieval model of the urban block as a defendable fortress. This very limited green buffer between a house and the public street eventually became a mark that could be used to denote one’s passing from an older or more commercial district into another slightly later or one more residential in character. The practical real estate broker’s slant on this might also lead the observer to believe that a mere 6 or 8 foot setback would sufficiently remove a house’s occupants from traffic noises and offensive stench of the city’s streets.
Another benefit of the limited setback was to allow for taller structures to face narrow secondary or side streets without overwhelming those on the street. A long understood rule only more recently forgotten was that the height of buildings on either side of the street should equal the distance between the base or front of each building as it faces the other with the public street in between. This created a geometric space resembling a square to those on the street with only the forth side open to the sky. A building would look immediately out of proportion, even to the untrained eye, if its builder ignored this geometric rule of classical urban organization for placing buildings along a thoroughfare and in relation to each other within this visual square.
The concept of receding perspective is not believed to have been used by artist until more recently, yet the arrangement of buildings along streets within cities has benefited from this application visual perspective en plain air. At least this has been the case as long as the geometric square has been applied to determining building heights and setbacks in relation to each other and the street.
Current urban zoning in this district no longer allows for this type of setback variations. Because the modern ordinances make no differentiation between historically commercial, residential or mixed use neighborhoods, it is a rule that has become the undoing of entire streetscapes, especially side streets, by turning them into uninviting canyons. The buildings within this newer model become too compressed for the street or have no relationship to each other. Good architectural design and site planning cannot function effectively within the limits of a single lot. It must relate harmoniously with its neighbors. A successful urban building exists symbiotically with its surroundings, but taking and giving in balance, just as this residence on George Street once did with its neighbors no longer standing.
George Street just west of Meeting Street, Charleston, SC. Photo taken December 2008.
Photo and text posted: 6 December 2008
Revised: 29 March 2011
Copyrights reserved: hdescopeland
Joseph McGonagle, Friday 19 June 2009

Image by Dr John2005
"Is it pigskin? How old is it? That would be perfect as my bedside table…"
I had been warned that this might happen. Within the first five minutes of carrying the case two people had already made admiring remarks about it – and we still hadn’t completed the short walk from the Cathedral to the coffee shop to complete the handover. As I left John, I deliberately took a shortcut through the backstreets of the Northern Quarter to Piccadilly train station: more for speed rather than any great desire to be inconspicuous. While I certainly gained time, the power of the case’s appeal was ultimately beyond my control. Having quietly negotiated the journey with only the curious and furtive gazes of a few silent passers-by, it only remained for me to slip on to the train and find a seat. But as soon as I entered the carriage, I was halted in my tracks: the mere sight of the large suitcase in my right hand had clearly transfixed the waiting ticket inspector and she was beaming a smile of surprise and admiration. She immediately stopped me to query its provenance and age. The suitcase was working its magic already.
Even though empty – except for the eggshells the previous borrower had left within it – one of the first things that struck me about the case was its weight and sturdy construction. It was clearly built to last, and so it has. What a contrast it is to carry something of such emotional and personal value rather than wheel a bland plastic case with in-built obsolescence included as part of the price. I quickly realised that carrying such a large case by hand imposes a certain physical relationship on the traveller. Its bulk obliges you to adjust your gait in order to accommodate its size, and perhaps this also encourages an emotional attachment with it too. Sliding your fingers round the handle and feeling the worn leather clearly connect you in a rather direct way with those who have previously held it. How wonderful it must be still to have this in your family: to hold such a cherished object held by both your father and grandfather, and for so long.
The train pulls away from Piccadilly and begins the short distance south to my home in the suburbs. As the city centre slips behind me, I pick out landmarks of the city upon the horizon and recognise areas that I know well from my childhood. I was born in Manchester and grew up in its inner city during my early years until we moved just beyond the borders of South Manchester when I was five. Relatives of mine have lived in and around the city for decades and the train ride in and out of Manchester has always been a very familiar one to me. Looking at the case alongside me as the city centre begins to recede, I begin to think about the major role migrants have played in making Manchester what it is today. How many people have arrived here over the years and carried their own cases through the city? I begin to imagine my own father carrying one when he arrived here as a 17-year old – his first journey abroad from Ireland, arriving in a city and region that is still his home today. But somehow I doubt that he would have had such a large and well-made case when he arrived.
Why had I agreed to participate in the project? It was my own initiative and something I had been contemplating for some time. The timing also seemed apposite: a week later I was due to travel to France for a week before spending eight days in Algeria, and later in the summer I was to go on family holidays in Italy and Ireland in August. This itinerary sounded less than relaxing but at least I would not have to worry about the plight of the case: its value far too great to risk the foibles of Parisian baggage handlers, we agreed to leave it safely at home. So it would travel with me mentally as I prepared to begin my journey, and a few Polaroids I took of it and placed within my own luggage provided a reminder as I travelled around France and later across the Mediterranean.’
Images and Text © Joseph McGonagle, 2009
Tweet this! 
A few nice long distance relationship songs images I found:
IMG_2916

Image by Wootang01
15.5.09
We’re driving towards the orphanage. The highway is lonely, save for a few languid trucks ambling along. It is damp too, and a thick fog covers the countryside: a single light here or there provides the only hint of civilization amidst the interminable verdure. Inside the van, the smoke of cigarettes past wafts in the air, lingering like a lost soul. I inhale, and quickly cough. I subsequently open the window to the enveloping darkness outside, so slightly as to not disturb my companions in the back. The roar of the road echoes in my ears.
An unexpected wrench was thrown into our travel plans today. The trip began expediently enough as the bus on which Candy and I rode reached the Shenzhen airport with hours to spare; however, the unscheduled hiccups soon followed. We received an announcement over the public address system notifying us of a flight delay, due to a mysterious military maneuver, we deduced, high in the Shenzhen skies. Several more sonorous reminders came in punctual succession over the next six hours. It seemed as though we would be stuck, stranded really, at the airport forever, or for the day at least. Thankfully, after the police arrested some of the more aggrieved passengers, we finally boarded the plane and took off for central China. We were blessed to be on our way at last, none of us having blown a gasket during the afternoon tedium.
One more pitch black road awaited, down a single lonely lane lined with swarthy trees, standing as though sentries, and at length we arrived at the orphanage. The car stopped in a clearing, and we stepped out, onto a cement lot with soft puddles spread silently beneath our feet. We squinted into the twilight, our eyes trying to make sense of the surroundings. Our bags were unloaded, we made our way to the rooms, and soon enough fell asleep. I think we all enjoyed the repose, rendered especially comfortable by the new guest rooms in which we were staying.
16.5.09
We have only been here for barely 24 hours, yet it feels as though we have been here for much longer, as if time at some point in our journey decided to slow itself to a crawl. Maybe it was because of the litany of activities that we packed into the span of several hours, or perhaps it was the lack of worldly distractions, allowing us to focus solely on our mission, that caused us to suspend the hands of that imaginary clock in our mind. Whatever the case, we’ve enjoyed every minute at the orphanage; it is time definitely well spent in service!
Morning call was at 6:20; and after a prayer meeting we went down to finally visit the kids. They were playing on the vast driveway of the orphanage, savoring their moment of freedom before breakfast. To see so many friendly faces, in spite of their precarious physical and filial circumstance was definitely encouraging. I made a multitude of new friends; and did my best throughout the day to impact those kids with joy, honesty and patience. It is a powerful cocktail which brings love immediately to many.
The food at the orphanage is without processing, as natural as victuals can be in these days of impersonal industrial production. Large chunks of mantou, steaming bowls of soupy congee, and salty vegetables with slivers of meat have characterized our meals. It is the kind of humble stuff that lengthens life spans, and disciplines the palate.
We presented a wide range of activities – structured and unstructured; whole class and small group – to the kids, in the hope that we would manage them as much as amuse. In the morning, as though breaking the ice once were not enough, we ran through a series of dizzying, if not at times totally incoherent, activities designed to familiarize our dispositions to each other. Later, we established a makeshift fun fair, at which we ushered the children to rooms filled with (board) games, and puzzles, and other, more colorful activities such as face painting and balloon making. The kids couldn’t at length contain their enthusiasm, busting into and out of rooms with impunity, soaking in the rapturous atmosphere. In the afternoon, our team attempted to tire them out: running topped the agenda, and by leaps and bounds, the activities, whether straightforward relays or schoolyard classics like duck duck goose and red light, green light, indeed began to tucker our charges out. We, too, were pretty beat by the time night began to creep over the horizon!
17.5.09
Yesterday evening, we surprised the students with a musical performance, followed by forty minutes of bubble-blowing madness; to be sure, the students could not appreciate our somewhat accurate rendition of Amazing Grace so much as the innocent madness of dipping one’s hands in a solution of dish detergent and corn syrup and then whispering a bubble to life; and indeed, the moment the Disney branded bubble-making machines churned the first batch of bubbles into the air, with much rapidity weaving their frenetic pattern of fun, chaos erupted in the room. The students stormed the soap basin, and almost overwhelmed my teammates who valiantly held the Snitch and Pooh high above the heads of the clamoring kids.
During the evening’s festivities, I grew progressively ill, until at last I dashed out of the room to sneeze. Outside, in the cool of the night, under a cloud of stars beaming so far away in the deep of space, I exploded in a rancor of sneezing. The fit lasted for five minutes, an inexorable depression in my system which sent both my body and my esteem tumbling down. I felt bad, not only for my exceedingly rickety health, but for my teammates and the children who may have been exposed to my sickness as it incubated within me; furthermore, everyone in the classroom was saying goodbye and all I could do was rid myself of a sniffle here and there, in between rounds of bursting from nostrils and sinuses. I was impotent, as though one of my insignificant droplets on the floor!
18.5.09
We are in a car heading towards a famous historical site in Henan. The driver’s drawl slips slowly from his mouth, and what he says resonates intelligibly in our ears. Candy, Tanya and the driver are discussing Chinese mythology, and history, which, for better or for worse seem to be inextricably intertwined. We narrowly just now missed hitting an idle biker in the middle of the road; in dodging our human obstacle, the car swerved into the oncoming traffic, sending us flying inside the cabin. Reciting a verse from a worship song calmed our frazzled nerves.
How to describe the children? Many of them smiled freely, and were so polite when greeted that undoubtedly they had been trained well at some point in the tumult of their life education. Precociousness was also a common characteristic shared by the kids, whose stunted bodies belied the mature, perspicacious thoughts hiding just underneath the skin. Of course, in our time together we were more merry than serious, that quality being best left for the adults working silently in their rooms; and to that effect, the kids brought out their funny bones and jangled them in the air to stir up the excitement and to destroy by a jocular clamor any hint of a dull moment – we really laughed a lot. At last, although not all of them seemed interested in our staged activities – rather than feign enthusiasm and eagerness, some skipped our events altogether – those who did participate, most of them in fact, enjoyed themselves with abandon, helping to create that delightful atmosphere where the many sounds of elation reign.
Of the students whom I had the opportunity to know personally, several still stick out in my mind, not the least for my having christened a few of them with English names! David was bold, and courageous, willing to soothe crying babes as much as reprimand them when their capricious actions led them astray; he had a caring heart not unlike a shepherd who tends to his young charges. Edward, who at 13 was the same age as David, definitely grew emotionally, not to mention physically attached to me. He was by my side for much of the weekend, grabbing onto my hand and not letting go, to the point where I in my arrogance would detach my fingers within his, ever so slightly, as if to suggest that a second more would lead to a clean break – I know now that with the cruel hands of time motoring away during the mission, I shouldn’t have lapsed into such an independent, selfish state; he should have been my son. Another child who became so attached to the team as to intimate annoyance was the boy we deemed John’s son, because the boy, it seemed, had handcuffed himself to our teammate, and would only free himself to cause insidious mischief, which would invariably result in an explosion of hysterics, his eyes bursting with tears and his mouth, as wide as canyon, unleashing a sonorous wail when something went wrong. On the other hand, Alice remained in the distance, content to smile and shyly wave her hand at our team while hiding behind her sisters. And last but not least, of our precious goonies, Sunny undoubtedly was the photographer extraordinaire, always in charge of the school’s camera, snapping away liberally, never allowing any passing moment to escape his shot.
That I learned on this trip so much about my teammates verily surprised me, as I thought the relationships that we had established were already mature, not hiding any new bump, any sharp edge to surprise us from our friendly stupor. So, consider myself delightfully amazed at how a few slight changes in the personality mix can bring out the best, the most creative and the strangest in the group dynamic: admittedly, Candy and Tanya were the ideal foils for John, they eliciting the most humorous observations and reactions from my house church leader, they expertly constructing a depth of character that even last week, in the wake of the Guangdong biking trip, I never knew existed! Most of all, I’m glad to have been a part of such a harmonious fellowship, for the fact that we could prayer together as one, and encourage each other too, and all the more as we saw the day approaching.
IMG_2854

Image by Wootang01
15.5.09
We’re driving towards the orphanage. The highway is lonely, save for a few languid trucks ambling along. It is damp too, and a thick fog covers the countryside: a single light here or there provides the only hint of civilization amidst the interminable verdure. Inside the van, the smoke of cigarettes past wafts in the air, lingering like a lost soul. I inhale, and quickly cough. I subsequently open the window to the enveloping darkness outside, so slightly as to not disturb my companions in the back. The roar of the road echoes in my ears.
An unexpected wrench was thrown into our travel plans today. The trip began expediently enough as the bus on which Candy and I rode reached the Shenzhen airport with hours to spare; however, the unscheduled hiccups soon followed. We received an announcement over the public address system notifying us of a flight delay, due to a mysterious military maneuver, we deduced, high in the Shenzhen skies. Several more sonorous reminders came in punctual succession over the next six hours. It seemed as though we would be stuck, stranded really, at the airport forever, or for the day at least. Thankfully, after the police arrested some of the more aggrieved passengers, we finally boarded the plane and took off for central China. We were blessed to be on our way at last, none of us having blown a gasket during the afternoon tedium.
One more pitch black road awaited, down a single lonely lane lined with swarthy trees, standing as though sentries, and at length we arrived at the orphanage. The car stopped in a clearing, and we stepped out, onto a cement lot with soft puddles spread silently beneath our feet. We squinted into the twilight, our eyes trying to make sense of the surroundings. Our bags were unloaded, we made our way to the rooms, and soon enough fell asleep. I think we all enjoyed the repose, rendered especially comfortable by the new guest rooms in which we were staying.
16.5.09
We have only been here for barely 24 hours, yet it feels as though we have been here for much longer, as if time at some point in our journey decided to slow itself to a crawl. Maybe it was because of the litany of activities that we packed into the span of several hours, or perhaps it was the lack of worldly distractions, allowing us to focus solely on our mission, that caused us to suspend the hands of that imaginary clock in our mind. Whatever the case, we’ve enjoyed every minute at the orphanage; it is time definitely well spent in service!
Morning call was at 6:20; and after a prayer meeting we went down to finally visit the kids. They were playing on the vast driveway of the orphanage, savoring their moment of freedom before breakfast. To see so many friendly faces, in spite of their precarious physical and filial circumstance was definitely encouraging. I made a multitude of new friends; and did my best throughout the day to impact those kids with joy, honesty and patience. It is a powerful cocktail which brings love immediately to many.
The food at the orphanage is without processing, as natural as victuals can be in these days of impersonal industrial production. Large chunks of mantou, steaming bowls of soupy congee, and salty vegetables with slivers of meat have characterized our meals. It is the kind of humble stuff that lengthens life spans, and disciplines the palate.
We presented a wide range of activities – structured and unstructured; whole class and small group – to the kids, in the hope that we would manage them as much as amuse. In the morning, as though breaking the ice once were not enough, we ran through a series of dizzying, if not at times totally incoherent, activities designed to familiarize our dispositions to each other. Later, we established a makeshift fun fair, at which we ushered the children to rooms filled with (board) games, and puzzles, and other, more colorful activities such as face painting and balloon making. The kids couldn’t at length contain their enthusiasm, busting into and out of rooms with impunity, soaking in the rapturous atmosphere. In the afternoon, our team attempted to tire them out: running topped the agenda, and by leaps and bounds, the activities, whether straightforward relays or schoolyard classics like duck duck goose and red light, green light, indeed began to tucker our charges out. We, too, were pretty beat by the time night began to creep over the horizon!
17.5.09
Yesterday evening, we surprised the students with a musical performance, followed by forty minutes of bubble-blowing madness; to be sure, the students could not appreciate our somewhat accurate rendition of Amazing Grace so much as the innocent madness of dipping one’s hands in a solution of dish detergent and corn syrup and then whispering a bubble to life; and indeed, the moment the Disney branded bubble-making machines churned the first batch of bubbles into the air, with much rapidity weaving their frenetic pattern of fun, chaos erupted in the room. The students stormed the soap basin, and almost overwhelmed my teammates who valiantly held the Snitch and Pooh high above the heads of the clamoring kids.
During the evening’s festivities, I grew progressively ill, until at last I dashed out of the room to sneeze. Outside, in the cool of the night, under a cloud of stars beaming so far away in the deep of space, I exploded in a rancor of sneezing. The fit lasted for five minutes, an inexorable depression in my system which sent both my body and my esteem tumbling down. I felt bad, not only for my exceedingly rickety health, but for my teammates and the children who may have been exposed to my sickness as it incubated within me; furthermore, everyone in the classroom was saying goodbye and all I could do was rid myself of a sniffle here and there, in between rounds of bursting from nostrils and sinuses. I was impotent, as though one of my insignificant droplets on the floor!
18.5.09
We are in a car heading towards a famous historical site in Henan. The driver’s drawl slips slowly from his mouth, and what he says resonates intelligibly in our ears. Candy, Tanya and the driver are discussing Chinese mythology, and history, which, for better or for worse seem to be inextricably intertwined. We narrowly just now missed hitting an idle biker in the middle of the road; in dodging our human obstacle, the car swerved into the oncoming traffic, sending us flying inside the cabin. Reciting a verse from a worship song calmed our frazzled nerves.
How to describe the children? Many of them smiled freely, and were so polite when greeted that undoubtedly they had been trained well at some point in the tumult of their life education. Precociousness was also a common characteristic shared by the kids, whose stunted bodies belied the mature, perspicacious thoughts hiding just underneath the skin. Of course, in our time together we were more merry than serious, that quality being best left for the adults working silently in their rooms; and to that effect, the kids brought out their funny bones and jangled them in the air to stir up the excitement and to destroy by a jocular clamor any hint of a dull moment – we really laughed a lot. At last, although not all of them seemed interested in our staged activities – rather than feign enthusiasm and eagerness, some skipped our events altogether – those who did participate, most of them in fact, enjoyed themselves with abandon, helping to create that delightful atmosphere where the many sounds of elation reign.
Of the students whom I had the opportunity to know personally, several still stick out in my mind, not the least for my having christened a few of them with English names! David was bold, and courageous, willing to soothe crying babes as much as reprimand them when their capricious actions led them astray; he had a caring heart not unlike a shepherd who tends to his young charges. Edward, who at 13 was the same age as David, definitely grew emotionally, not to mention physically attached to me. He was by my side for much of the weekend, grabbing onto my hand and not letting go, to the point where I in my arrogance would detach my fingers within his, ever so slightly, as if to suggest that a second more would lead to a clean break – I know now that with the cruel hands of time motoring away during the mission, I shouldn’t have lapsed into such an independent, selfish state; he should have been my son. Another child who became so attached to the team as to intimate annoyance was the boy we deemed John’s son, because the boy, it seemed, had handcuffed himself to our teammate, and would only free himself to cause insidious mischief, which would invariably result in an explosion of hysterics, his eyes bursting with tears and his mouth, as wide as canyon, unleashing a sonorous wail when something went wrong. On the other hand, Alice remained in the distance, content to smile and shyly wave her hand at our team while hiding behind her sisters. And last but not least, of our precious goonies, Sunny undoubtedly was the photographer extraordinaire, always in charge of the school’s camera, snapping away liberally, never allowing any passing moment to escape his shot.
That I learned on this trip so much about my teammates verily surprised me, as I thought the relationships that we had established were already mature, not hiding any new bump, any sharp edge to surprise us from our friendly stupor. So, consider myself delightfully amazed at how a few slight changes in the personality mix can bring out the best, the most creative and the strangest in the group dynamic: admittedly, Candy and Tanya were the ideal foils for John, they eliciting the most humorous observations and reactions from my house church leader, they expertly constructing a depth of character that even last week, in the wake of the Guangdong biking trip, I never knew existed! Most of all, I’m glad to have been a part of such a harmonious fellowship, for the fact that we could prayer together as one, and encourage each other too, and all the more as we saw the day approaching.
IMG_2773

Image by Wootang01
15.5.09
We’re driving towards the orphanage. The highway is lonely, save for a few languid trucks ambling along. It is damp too, and a thick fog covers the countryside: a single light here or there provides the only hint of civilization amidst the interminable verdure. Inside the van, the smoke of cigarettes past wafts in the air, lingering like a lost soul. I inhale, and quickly cough. I subsequently open the window to the enveloping darkness outside, so slightly as to not disturb my companions in the back. The roar of the road echoes in my ears.
An unexpected wrench was thrown into our travel plans today. The trip began expediently enough as the bus on which Candy and I rode reached the Shenzhen airport with hours to spare; however, the unscheduled hiccups soon followed. We received an announcement over the public address system notifying us of a flight delay, due to a mysterious military maneuver, we deduced, high in the Shenzhen skies. Several more sonorous reminders came in punctual succession over the next six hours. It seemed as though we would be stuck, stranded really, at the airport forever, or for the day at least. Thankfully, after the police arrested some of the more aggrieved passengers, we finally boarded the plane and took off for central China. We were blessed to be on our way at last, none of us having blown a gasket during the afternoon tedium.
One more pitch black road awaited, down a single lonely lane lined with swarthy trees, standing as though sentries, and at length we arrived at the orphanage. The car stopped in a clearing, and we stepped out, onto a cement lot with soft puddles spread silently beneath our feet. We squinted into the twilight, our eyes trying to make sense of the surroundings. Our bags were unloaded, we made our way to the rooms, and soon enough fell asleep. I think we all enjoyed the repose, rendered especially comfortable by the new guest rooms in which we were staying.
16.5.09
We have only been here for barely 24 hours, yet it feels as though we have been here for much longer, as if time at some point in our journey decided to slow itself to a crawl. Maybe it was because of the litany of activities that we packed into the span of several hours, or perhaps it was the lack of worldly distractions, allowing us to focus solely on our mission, that caused us to suspend the hands of that imaginary clock in our mind. Whatever the case, we’ve enjoyed every minute at the orphanage; it is time definitely well spent in service!
Morning call was at 6:20; and after a prayer meeting we went down to finally visit the kids. They were playing on the vast driveway of the orphanage, savoring their moment of freedom before breakfast. To see so many friendly faces, in spite of their precarious physical and filial circumstance was definitely encouraging. I made a multitude of new friends; and did my best throughout the day to impact those kids with joy, honesty and patience. It is a powerful cocktail which brings love immediately to many.
The food at the orphanage is without processing, as natural as victuals can be in these days of impersonal industrial production. Large chunks of mantou, steaming bowls of soupy congee, and salty vegetables with slivers of meat have characterized our meals. It is the kind of humble stuff that lengthens life spans, and disciplines the palate.
We presented a wide range of activities – structured and unstructured; whole class and small group – to the kids, in the hope that we would manage them as much as amuse. In the morning, as though breaking the ice once were not enough, we ran through a series of dizzying, if not at times totally incoherent, activities designed to familiarize our dispositions to each other. Later, we established a makeshift fun fair, at which we ushered the children to rooms filled with (board) games, and puzzles, and other, more colorful activities such as face painting and balloon making. The kids couldn’t at length contain their enthusiasm, busting into and out of rooms with impunity, soaking in the rapturous atmosphere. In the afternoon, our team attempted to tire them out: running topped the agenda, and by leaps and bounds, the activities, whether straightforward relays or schoolyard classics like duck duck goose and red light, green light, indeed began to tucker our charges out. We, too, were pretty beat by the time night began to creep over the horizon!
17.5.09
Yesterday evening, we surprised the students with a musical performance, followed by forty minutes of bubble-blowing madness; to be sure, the students could not appreciate our somewhat accurate rendition of Amazing Grace so much as the innocent madness of dipping one’s hands in a solution of dish detergent and corn syrup and then whispering a bubble to life; and indeed, the moment the Disney branded bubble-making machines churned the first batch of bubbles into the air, with much rapidity weaving their frenetic pattern of fun, chaos erupted in the room. The students stormed the soap basin, and almost overwhelmed my teammates who valiantly held the Snitch and Pooh high above the heads of the clamoring kids.
During the evening’s festivities, I grew progressively ill, until at last I dashed out of the room to sneeze. Outside, in the cool of the night, under a cloud of stars beaming so far away in the deep of space, I exploded in a rancor of sneezing. The fit lasted for five minutes, an inexorable depression in my system which sent both my body and my esteem tumbling down. I felt bad, not only for my exceedingly rickety health, but for my teammates and the children who may have been exposed to my sickness as it incubated within me; furthermore, everyone in the classroom was saying goodbye and all I could do was rid myself of a sniffle here and there, in between rounds of bursting from nostrils and sinuses. I was impotent, as though one of my insignificant droplets on the floor!
18.5.09
We are in a car heading towards a famous historical site in Henan. The driver’s drawl slips slowly from his mouth, and what he says resonates intelligibly in our ears. Candy, Tanya and the driver are discussing Chinese mythology, and history, which, for better or for worse seem to be inextricably intertwined. We narrowly just now missed hitting an idle biker in the middle of the road; in dodging our human obstacle, the car swerved into the oncoming traffic, sending us flying inside the cabin. Reciting a verse from a worship song calmed our frazzled nerves.
How to describe the children? Many of them smiled freely, and were so polite when greeted that undoubtedly they had been trained well at some point in the tumult of their life education. Precociousness was also a common characteristic shared by the kids, whose stunted bodies belied the mature, perspicacious thoughts hiding just underneath the skin. Of course, in our time together we were more merry than serious, that quality being best left for the adults working silently in their rooms; and to that effect, the kids brought out their funny bones and jangled them in the air to stir up the excitement and to destroy by a jocular clamor any hint of a dull moment – we really laughed a lot. At last, although not all of them seemed interested in our staged activities – rather than feign enthusiasm and eagerness, some skipped our events altogether – those who did participate, most of them in fact, enjoyed themselves with abandon, helping to create that delightful atmosphere where the many sounds of elation reign.
Of the students whom I had the opportunity to know personally, several still stick out in my mind, not the least for my having christened a few of them with English names! David was bold, and courageous, willing to soothe crying babes as much as reprimand them when their capricious actions led them astray; he had a caring heart not unlike a shepherd who tends to his young charges. Edward, who at 13 was the same age as David, definitely grew emotionally, not to mention physically attached to me. He was by my side for much of the weekend, grabbing onto my hand and not letting go, to the point where I in my arrogance would detach my fingers within his, ever so slightly, as if to suggest that a second more would lead to a clean break – I know now that with the cruel hands of time motoring away during the mission, I shouldn’t have lapsed into such an independent, selfish state; he should have been my son. Another child who became so attached to the team as to intimate annoyance was the boy we deemed John’s son, because the boy, it seemed, had handcuffed himself to our teammate, and would only free himself to cause insidious mischief, which would invariably result in an explosion of hysterics, his eyes bursting with tears and his mouth, as wide as canyon, unleashing a sonorous wail when something went wrong. On the other hand, Alice remained in the distance, content to smile and shyly wave her hand at our team while hiding behind her sisters. And last but not least, of our precious goonies, Sunny undoubtedly was the photographer extraordinaire, always in charge of the school’s camera, snapping away liberally, never allowing any passing moment to escape his shot.
That I learned on this trip so much about my teammates verily surprised me, as I thought the relationships that we had established were already mature, not hiding any new bump, any sharp edge to surprise us from our friendly stupor. So, consider myself delightfully amazed at how a few slight changes in the personality mix can bring out the best, the most creative and the strangest in the group dynamic: admittedly, Candy and Tanya were the ideal foils for John, they eliciting the most humorous observations and reactions from my house church leader, they expertly constructing a depth of character that even last week, in the wake of the Guangdong biking trip, I never knew existed! Most of all, I’m glad to have been a part of such a harmonious fellowship, for the fact that we could prayer together as one, and encourage each other too, and all the more as we saw the day approaching.
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