The Art of Breathing (continued) . . .

Beijing . . .

It brings to mind images of Tian'anmen Square, the Great Wall, Peking Duck and, increasingly, bad air. Really bad air. Air so bad that the air quality monitor on the Beijing Embassy has measured it some days as above 500, which was previously considered the top of the scale (an air quality index of 301 - 500 is considered hazardous).

The view from my apartment on a 'moderate' air day.

The most serious concern is particulates of less than 2.5 micrometers in diameter (PM 2.5) as they are small enough to get into the lungs and blood stream. Air quality, or lack thereof, is a big factor for most foreign workers considering moving to China and a constant topic of conversation for all who live here, both locals and expats. The country is working to improve the air quality but that will take time. Ways to alleviate the problem until then are to use masks outside and air filters inside. The problem being, in this country where most things are cheaper than in Western countries, air filters are exorbitantly expensive.

Someone who noticed that earlier than me, and came up with a solution is Thomas Talhelm, who came to China last year on a Fulbright scholarship. Noticing that most commercial air filters cost from $600 - $1,200 or more, he started to look at how they were made and how they worked. Being a self-confessed data nerd, he bought a HEPA filter, strapped it to a fan he had modified, tested the results with a particle counter and published them on a blog called Particle Counting.

In a land known for reverse engineering, he reverse engineered expensive commercial filters and came up with a DIY solution for a fraction of the cost. He published the results and started giving workshops on how to make your own HEPA filter but also, after people told him they were having difficulty sourcing the materials, he and two friends (Anna Guo and Gus Tate) ordered the parts in bulk and selling the kits for 200 RMB - less than $33 at today's exchange rate. They will also ship them anywhere in China at no extra cost.

The three admit they are not experts in air pollution but present data and video of the effect the DIY filters have on PM2.5 and PM5 and, with my trusty Honeywell HEPA filter shorted out, I decided it was worth spending $33 to test the results myself.

And I am impressed. Since inadvertently killing my commercial filter, I'd been waking each morning with sore, streaming eyes and a sore throat - not good symptoms for an asthmatic with the worst of the pollution expected during the fast-approaching winter. Those symptoms disappeared the morning after I bought, assembled and set up my DIY filter and my breathing feels like it's improved even when I venture out into the often cruddy air.

My DIY Hepa filter and the dearly departed Honeywell it is replacing.

I have a fairly large apartment so will buy another one or two DIY filters to take me safely through winter's worst.

My next task, finding an effective mask I can bear to wear for when I venture out . . .

Don't Tip the Unicorns . . .

I know right, this was supposed to be the continuation of "The Art of Breathing," and I promise you that will come, probably, almost definitely tomorrow.

But . . . I've just had a fun, funny, playing with words chat with a friend that reminded me of who I am, where I come from, why I sometimes don't fit in and why I should stop trying so hard to do so.

In the course of things, her imaginary island and unicorns were mentioned (unicorns not being imaginary but hoping that humans are only a bad dream) and, she and I being wordsmiths and fools, we ended up with her asking me to pass her the unicorns and me telling her not to tip them.

Because, as I have been told often in Asia, if you tip the unicorns, waitresses, taxi drivers or any other creature that makes life easier for you, "you spoil it for the rest of us."

Do NOT tip the unicorns, just pass them my way . . .

The Art of Breathing . . .

Growing up in New Zealand, I never really thought about clean air - it was, literally, as natural as breathing. I suffered asthma as a child but, like many asthmatics, grew out of it and never thought about it again until I began traveling overseas.

During my first overseas sojourn, to Melbourne, Australia, I developed a nagging cold I just couldn't shake. Or that's what I thought, at least. When a doctor asked me to describe my symptoms, I said it felt like I was wheezing (my younger sister had more serious asthma so I was familiar with the symptoms), the doctor did some tests and told me I was correct. Unaccustomed as I was to the different pollens and histamines in Australia, my asthma had returned but wasn't more than a minor problem.

Until I moved to Asia, that is.

Seoul in 2001 was a shock to my system and I experienced my first asthma attack - a terrifying experience as I was not in the habit of carrying my inhaler with me. Tougher emissions controls and tighter regulations on industry mean Seoul's air is now much cleaner but I have taken maintenance medicine for my asthma almost every day since then. (The exceptions being because I hate the idea of ingesting any chemical daily so tried a few times to do without - before learning the hard way that I really need asthma meds to breathe in Asia.)

Obviously, considering China as my next place of employment meant considering many factors - salary, saving potential, travel and writing opportunities, relationship impact, lifestyle and living conditions. Top in the living conditions column was the quality of air, or, in China, lack thereof. I laughed it off, telling friends I would purchase air filters for each room, particularly as my utilities were being paid as part of my remuneration package. I was more concerned than I let on, however.

As I was right to be. The world media has been covering the pollution problem here and the stats are readily available and frightening, as are the photographs and first-person reports. The country IS doing what it can to alleviate a problem many developing countries have already experienced - London during the Industrial Revolution, Los Angeles and Chicago much more recently - but any solution must be multi-faceted and will take time. And is unlikely to happen in my time in country.

Not such a nice day in Beijing - the US Embassy lists the current air quality as 161 on a scale of 0-500, 0-50 being 'Good' and 301-500 being hazardous. ' "Unhealthy" AQI is 151 - 200. Everyone may begin to experience some adverse health effects, and members of the sensitive groups may experience more serious effects.'

So I turned to my first plan - air filters so at least my apartment would have clean air. I had a US-made filter in Seoul so shipped that to China and found a voltage converter for it but, in a moment of inattention, moved it from my bedroom to my study and plugged it in without the converter. Bye bye Honeywell HEPA filter, at least until I find an electrician who may be able to resurrect it.

With winter approaching and many warnings of how bad the air gets during winter, it was time to find a replacement. I started looking, and found the brands here ranged from 3,000-13,000 RMB ($500-2,100) or even higher, and started to consider having a friend ship one or two from the states.

Then I found the solution . . .

(To be continued, time to venture into the smog to go to the gym and the market - a mask will probably be my next line of defense)

Apologies . . .

The Opening Up piece below had the wrong link, a result of housekeeping the blog while way too tired, but has now been corrected. My bad . . .

Opening up . . .

I've spent the past week touring Hunan province on a very busy media tour so am a week late uploading this, but here is the second story I have written for China Daily, on a New Zealand practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine . . .

Market day . . .

With working a Sunday through Monday evening schedule at my current job, I get a virtual long weekend every week - Friday morning through Sunday afternoon when I need to be back in the office at 1630. It makes it possible to take mini-trips as I did to Seoul last month and plan to do to many more places, as in addition to everywhere in China I want to visit, there are many other fascinating countries within a few hour's flight.

When I stay in Beijing for the weekend, it becomes my nesting time, particularly as the days get shorter and cooler. A usual Friday routine has become to visit my favorite food market, Sanyuanli, to which I introduced a friend today.

Located just four bus stops and a short walk from where I live, Sanyuanli is my go-to place for my weekly stock of vegetables, herbs and herbal tea supplies and also has just about anything else one might require for cooking, including kitchenware at a few hardware stores at the rear of the market.

There are hundreds of stalls, of which I have found firm favorites to which I return each week, while also keeping an open eye for specialty items I might want. The front of the market is dedicated to fruit, all of which looks fabulous but most of which I can purchase at better prices elsewhere so I walk through there quickly, replying politely to greetings but not stopping to buy.

There is then a section with many imported products, plus teas, nuts, grains and spices. There is a tea store I also stop by, even if I'm not buying anything, as the sisters who run the stall are always friendly and welcoming and make me practice the little Chinese I have learned thus far. The younger sister (mei mei) speaks reasonably good English but seems to like to teach me new words in Chinese and I definitely need the help.

rice and grains

dried fruits and nuts

the tea shop

 Thanks to her, I now have a extensive selection of herbal teas that I mix and match to try new combinations, both hot and iced. She also has beautiful cardboard canisters she gives me to store them in (inside ziplock bags for freshness).

Just past the tea lady is the meat section, which my friend, who is basically vegetarian, found a little hard to take. She had to shield her eyes and run the gauntlet, while I find it rather fascinating. I haven't bought pork or beef there as I'm a little wary of both here (although I eat both when the canteen serves it so I admit I'm inconsistent), but there is a particular stall I frequent for chicken and am happy with in terms of both price and quality. I was even more reassured when I met a Chinese friend at the market on Saturday morning and found we both prefer the same chicken vendor. The seafood section is next, which seemed a little less disturbing for my friend, but I think she was glad to get through both.

beef

fish

shellfish

Once past the dead creatures (tho some of the seafood is still alive), we come to my favorite part - the vegetable section. My first stop here is always an old lady who always has the most amazing fresh herbs - basil, mint, cilantro/coriander - plus other things not found most other places. She doesn't always have a huge selection but did this time, with fennel, witloof and rocket as well as more conventional lettuce and cabbage varieties, plus beets, potatoes and sweet potatoes (one of the sweet potato varieties here is just like kumara in New Zealand - which makes me happy). There's another stall that is primarily different varieties of tomatoes, and a couple of vendors who carry only mushrooms, both fresh and dried, in a wider range than I knew existed.

The produce is beautifully displayed and the stalls look like artworks.

 

bags of fresh basil and mint for only a dollar or two

a riot of color

Today's swag for me was fresh basil and mint, asparagus, bell pepper, radishes, tomatoes, red onion, ginger and garlic, a good grater and an electric mixer from the kitchenware store (winter = baking time), a large bottle of olive oil, some peanuts, dried lemon slices from the tea lady and a bag of mushrooms. A quick stop across the road at a liquor store scored me a bottle of Grant's whisky at a ridiculously inexpensive price (less than $US11.50) and I'm a happy gal.

A neighbor dropped off an organic cabbage, carrots and beet yesterday so for dinner, I poached a chicken fillet with ginger, garlic and lemongrass (tea), then sliced it and added it to shredded cabbage, grated carrot, finely sliced red onion, fresh basil, mint and crushed peanuts. I'm fighting off a cold right now (tho it could just be the crud in the air giving me a sore throat and snuffly nose) so plan to make a hot toddy tonight with lemon (dried and some fresh that my friend gave me), ginger and garlic steeped with a little lemongrass, with New Zealand honey, fresh mint and Grant's whisky added before sipping.

I do like my market day . . .

Opening up to the universe . . .

Depression . . .

It's a dark cloud that creeps up without you noticing until one day, you simply don't want to get out of bed, don't want to face the day, don't want to think any longer.

You look for ways to dull the pain, through medication, self-medication, distractions or entertainment - anything to stop the mind from dwelling on your failures and inadequacies, all the wrong choices you've made and people you've let down.

It's an unhappy place I've spent a lot of time in of late, not helped by being removed from my support networks, both physically through relocating to a new country and virtually by having no computer access outside of work. It reduced me to a shell of myself, neglecting friendships (sorry Tania and others), enduring my life rather than living it, losing my voice - all the while beating up on myself for being so weak, so self-absorbed to feel so sad when I have so much more than so many.

Thankfully, I am stubborn, even when depressed, and, as a survivor of a loved one's suicide, hold that as an absolute prohibition. So the morning I spent considering how to painlessly and conveniently end my life (not as easy as one might think, when one really thinks about it), was an all-bells alarm that I needed to deal with this.

But how?

I tried to access counseling, but finding the right person to talk to is difficult enough without adding in the cultural and language differences I face in another country. I tried to make friends but that's not easy when you feel you have nothing to offer and can't understand why anyone would want to be your friend. Fortunately, I have friends as stubborn as me who don't put up with that and who kept reminding me I am my own worst critic (as many of us are).

But, while doing these things, I also reverted to something I learned as an awkward, shy, constantly scared child - that if you act as if you're confident for long enough, you eventually gain confidence. So I tried doing the things that happy people do, in the hope some happiness would rub off.

And I found, as I often do, that the universe is waiting with gifts and life lessons when we take the time to listen.

My happy list was fairly simple, as most profound things are.

Looking after myself was top of the list. Good food wasn't a problem - I have long been a believer in that - but a drastic cutback on alcohol was definitely in order, particularly when I was using it as a way to avoid thinking or feeling.

Mindfulness was another - allowing myself to feel bad about bad things, but not allowing them to make me feel I was bad. Taking the time and focus to experience each day, good and bad, rather than simply getting through it.

Gratitude was intellectually easy, as I have traveled and seen enough of poverty and despair to realize how rich my life is, but being thankful in my head and my heart were two different things. But, like confidence, the more I practiced gratitude, the more real it felt. I've advised a young friend to make a list each day of what he has to be thankful for - I took my own advice and have started to feel truly thankful.

In with looking after myself was to exercise - something I've always tried to do but a habit I lost in the past year or so, which not coincidentally was when I started on my downward slope to depression. Having gotten back on track with that, I find myself working out not solely to lose/maintain weight as has long been my main reason, but because it makes me feel good. I've always wondered about the runner's high people talk about but have realized it's simply a result of letting our bodies do what they were designed to do, which is not sitting at a desk for upwards of eight hours a day.

As I said, the universe was waiting with tools to help me, when I became ready. A neighbor left the schedule to a yoga studio she had started attending and I joined, and now spend at least one class a week challenging my flexibility while calming my mind and feel blissed out afterward. The practice also makes me more aware of my body - how I sit, stand walk, what I feed it, how I relax. I'm eager to go to each class, and feel great for doing so.

I joined a gym and found the hardest exercise is stepping out my door to go there or finding time to do so. But I'm doing both. Again, it has made me more aware of this amazing machine of muscle and tissue I live in, and how what I ingest matters. It's much more tempting to drink chamomile tea after work than a glass of wine when I know I want to work out the next morning, and much more pleasant to do so. Having noticed the effect regular exercise was having on my mood (I found myself singing to myself last week, something I hadn't noticed I had stopped doing until I started again), I then found this TED talk by clinical neuroscientist Steve Ilardi, in which he states that 30 minutes of brisk walking three times a week has proved to be as effective as taking anti-depressants, while also enhancing cognitive functions. (Scary stats from the talk - one in five Americans takes a psychiatric drug every day, there has been a 300 percent increase in anti-depressant use in the last 20 years.)

I also, through my yoga studio, met a Chinese medicine practitioner I interviewed for an article (coming) who was leading a workshop on aligning the head and heart and sees herself as a seeker of happiness. (She has just released a book if anyone is interested in learning more, and I'll link my article when it is published.) I'm reading the book, in e-mail correspondence with the writer and learning from her experiences.

I'm not Miss Happy, by any means, but am definitely back to seeing the positive in life, not the drudgery. And I'm finding my voice again . . .