Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Me… Me… Me!

I was talking to my girlfriend the other day and she said, “You know, I was reading your blog, and you must really be full of yourself.  I mean, all you do is write about nothing.  Who cares what some guy in China does?”

I guess she didn’t read the graphic disclaimer at the top of every page.  At any rate, she’s right, this is a page of nothing except my daily life.  The thing is, most people will never live in another country, certainly not one as different from their own as Beijing.  In days past people would keep a journal to remind them of their daily thoughts and events, so that years later they could jog their memories by reading it.  This blog is nothing more than a journal of my experiences here.  The main differences are that it’s posted for the pubic not only to read but to comment on, and it will be archived forever somewhere on the internet.  So, three generations from now, one of my great, great grandchildren could write a report about the years his grandfather spent in Beijing.

Let me give you an example.  My great great great great grandfather came from Germantown, PA to Kelsey, CA as part of the gold rush.  The fastest way to get from the east coast to the west was to sail to Panama, walk across the area where the canal now sits, then sail north to San Francisco.  There were, as you can imagine, hordes of banditos laying in wait to rob and/or kill the goldrushers, so they were all armed for protection.  My ancestor carried a four-barrel Derringer.  It’s been passed down to the first born son in every generation since then, and it will go to my firstborn as well.  I treasure that gun as a link from my past.

But, ultimately, it’s a hunk of metal.  What I’d love to have is a journal he kept on his travels.  What he ate that day, who he saw, what obstacles he had to overcome, that sort of thing.  All of that is lost to the sands of time.  But this blog will not be.

My experiences in Beijing will be located in some cache file somewhere in the bowels of the internet for the rest of eternity.  My great great great great grandchildren are going to have a hell of a lot more of an understanding of who and what I am than I ever did of my ancestor.

This is, in the literal sense, journalism.  I may not be documenting anything for a news organization, but I am writing and keeping and self-publishing an interactive journal for all to enjoy.

And that, my friends, is pretty fucking cool.  Those of you who will never undertake a move such as this will be able to live vicariously through me.  And isn’t that kinda cool in a way?  You get an insider’s look at Beijing from a guy who knows nothing about the city.  You learn things as I learn about them.  It’s like we’re on this trip together.

Welcome to the information age.