the tao of construction

Life in an Asian mega-city requires punters to gracefully accept the relentless seven day a week cacophony of construction and demolition. Large-scale urban develop- ments and rising megalithic skyscrapers have become the Asian way – the one dream of transforming China into a giant, matrix-esque, HK-style playground.

Despite sharing this grand vision of urbanization, I can’t repress the troubling thought that the victims of construction-related psycho-trauma must now be in the millions. The unforgiving bang-drill-dust combo is not only an assault on the senses, but a key contributor to rising levels of sleep deprivation, migraines, allergies, and angry delusions.

A few questions I know I want answered are: how bigger stake do earplug multinationals have in construction? When will freelancers be compensated for low productivity due to noise pollution? Will that film of toxic dust ever leave? And on a more personal note, who is going to wean me off oxymetazoline? Oh, sweet nasal decongestant.

I realize my construction-related trauma withers next to Mr. X, the last stronghold in a demolition site near my apartment, but I started out on the back-foot – softened by a life in suburban Australia, where the most offensive noise pollutants are tone-deaf corellas. The following is my personal account as a survivor of long-term exposure to construction, and how I found inner peace in a sea of excavators, cranes and pile-drivers.

I spent my first year in Asia in an apartment circumvented by building sites. After about 93 consecutive 5am wake-up calls, my counter-construction terrorism fantasies began. They were usually preceded by fantastical nightmares, in which a mutant species of demolitionists would descend upon my pad with an array of chainsaws and jackhammers. I would always display a few crouching-tiger hidden-dragon style moves, before realizing the smallness of being a guard-dog for a rental property, and exiting through the back window with my Shakira poster and a few angry barks.

To manage my delusions, I began to meditate – bearing in mind that harmony with surroundings is a key principle in mastering the Tao of Construction. Instead of forging my own path, I began to go with the sounds. I allowed the whirring of distant graders to become ocean sounds, and the heavy thuds, the hooves of horses on open plains. When the sounds became too invasive, I harnessed their energy for positive action. I used the repetitive bangs as a metronome for playing my oboe, and when I felt more subversive than musical, as resistance training for relevant torture techniques.

My advice for all victims of the construction scram is: don’t let the demolitionists win – embrace the Tao. Those living in districts targeted for pre-Olympic developments are in the greatest danger, but all residents must use earplugs and dust-masks, and meditate until the August fervour declines.

If despite all your efforts, you are still unlucky enough to be one of the million Beijingers handed pre-Olympic eviction notices, look at it as a chance for a positive, new start – this is your way out of that bang-drill-dust rut, and back to a peaceful life in the countryside!

To see this article in print link to: Urbane China, Habitat, March 2008.
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the dervish-hippy instruction manual

.(foto: el noveno colectivo)

One of India’s most striking first impressions is her dervishes – the original hippy model. Hindu men in the fourth stage of their Earthly development, re-enter the community on the outskirts, as possession-free observers. Those in this stage of material absolution can be found bathing in the holy waters of the Ganges, philosophising in small posses, and spinning in circles.

Many a western punter sets out on their first journey with the heart-warming intention to escape the plethora of social constraints that have controlled their life up to any given point. There are more than a few that harbour the secret desire to join the travelling ‘hippy elite,’ but often find themselves confounded by a range of new, and often confusing, expectations. Amateur queries can be as simple as: why can’t I wear shoes anymore? And, why can’t I laugh when someone cuts the cheese in yoga class?

Sadly, more than a few hopefuls have been disappointed by their failure to rack up enough hippy-cred. To save the children of the world from further heartbreak I have designed a fast-track, 4-step method to emancipation from your prior self, and rebirth as a hardcore hippy.

STAGE 1: Taking the Plunge
Move to India and start eating from the street. Within two weeks you will be suffering from your first bout of dysentery – the first in a line of many. Over time, this will help give you that skinny, emaciated look.
TIP: Aim for frequent bouts of traveller's diarrhoea (pakoras from railway stations are a good option), as this will speed up the process of emaciation.

STAGE 2: The Radical Transformation
Hide your polar-fleece sweater, havaiana thongs, and credit card, and start wearing a sarong with strings of brightly dyed beads around your neck. At this stage it is imperative that you get your hair dreadlocked, and STOP using shampoo. Neat dreads do not guarantee hippy-cred! You need to aim for that matted, ‘I’ve had dreads since I emerged from the womb’ look.
TIP: rinsing your hair in the Ganges is a good way to contract a plethora of tropical diseases that will assist you along the road to emaciation and emancipation.

STAGE 3: Upping the Drug Intake
By this stage you should be smoking ganja at 15 minute intervals throughout the day; and instead of pakoras, nourish your body with a cocktail of hallucinogenics. This is by no means the ‘authentic’ Hindu way, but it will help give you an air of wonder and nonchalance, and break down any resistance you had to meditating in a pile of garbage and cow shit.
TIP: claim regular sightings of god-like apparitions; claim a rainbow is a sighting of Shiva, and the monkey on your balcony, Hanuman.

STAGE 4: Authenticate or Dissipate
By stage 4 you should be experiencing the enlightenment of a frightening combination of dysentrious and drug-induced delusions. Your accessories and hairstyle should be perfect, and the dirt building up under your nails. It is time for you to start chanting and throwing ‘holy water’ on the locals, in between making wild, religious proclamations.
TIP: try to avoid taking yourself too seriously, and believing in your newfound authentic hardcore hippy self. Remember you stole most of your attributes from India’s dervishes: dreadlocks; the minimalist but colourful accessories; the sarong; yoga; bare feet; living with nature; vegetarianism; living on the outskirts; the relinquishment of material possessions; Buddhism (something like Hinduism minus the caste system); and non-violence towards animals.


.(foto: el noveno colectivo)
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