Detroit’s Boblo Boat is back!

As a child growing up in Detroit, one of my favorite summer activities was riding the “Boblo Boat” down the Detroit River to Boblo Island. An amusement park created in 1898, it closed for good in 1993. The island is now a residential community and any hope of resurrecting the old-time amusement park is gone, but thanks to a local doctor, nostalgia-seekers may soon be able to take a ride on one of the official Boblo Boats, the Ste. Claire.

After over 80 years in use along the route and a decade spent docked south of the city, the boat was in serious disrepair. For three years, crews have been working on restoring the boat to its former glory. They started by hauling out over “40 dumpsters worth of trash and debris,” according to the Detroit Free Press. Work continues today as they remove paint and rust and take out rotted walls and decking. Crews plan to continue work throughout the winter and hope to have the boat ready for dock-side tours as early as next summer. A few years later, having installed new plumbing and electricity, they hope to offer cruises and special-event sailings on the Detroit River.

Ste. Claire and her running mate, the Colombia, are the “last two remaining classic excursion steamers” in the country. The Colombia is the oldest passenger steamer in the US (not including ferries) and together, the boats are believed to hold the record for the longest amount of time (81 years) spent on a single route. A New York investor plans to restore the Colombia as well, but so far work has not begun.

He’s 80 and has been walking the world for 16 years

Sometimes it’s years before we hear of the real vagabonds; I wonder how many we never hear of at all! Henry Lee McGinnis has been walking the world for the last 16 years, Google him and I find nothing other than a one-minute video on BBC.

So far he has walked over 80,000 miles across the US and 66 other countries. He is currently entering South America and will finish around 2010 in Texas, after passing through Central America and Mexico.

According to his website, the former Methodist minister and World War II army sniper, carries a 100-pound rucksack with everything but a kitchen sink, and a six-foot steel-tipped walking staff for protection. When he is not camping out, he looks for local hosts for a bed.

Inspired by reading National Geographic since he was 6, at the tender age of 9, he knew this is what he wanted to do. He believes that most people are searching for answers to the following questions: Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going? This walk is an inner and outer pilgrimage for Mcginnis.

At 80, the man is still full of life: he wants to write a book of his journey and learn to play tennis before he is 100!

On the video, he leaves one message [paraphrased]: “When you are retired, don’t sit in front of the TV set and gain 20-50 pounds drinking beer and eating sandwiches, go see the world!”

Prime example of the “it’s never too late” notion: If he could start his pedestrian world tour dream at 62, we really have no excuse to follow ours!

A Canadian in Beijing: Old and New Embrace

Here in Beijing, I am surrounded by the past and the future at every turn. I see technology grabbing the hand of history and pulling it closer, as though history has a history of being afraid to dance and technology cannot take no for an answer. What has resulted is an occasionally awkward intermingling of old ways and new ways here. But, I will hold that the perception of awkwardness is likely only coming from me, the outsider, because I can also appreciate the grace and rhythm that old and new have together, as though they have danced this way for years.

Neither seems in any hurry to step on the toes of the other.

Both are equally (but differently) stubborn.

Both are great dancers.

This kind of dance is evident in simple things that I noticed almost every day here when I first arrived. The kinds of things that are strange to an outsider but eventually become the norm after two months of living in this amazing city. Well, not exactly the norm and I’m still moved every time I notice another example, just no longer surprised. I’ve learned to expect the unexpected in Beijing.

For example, most of the brooms here in China are just tree branches. They are bound together in bunches and attached to a bamboo pole. They’re used to sweep up the leaves and dirt and dust that this windy city blows into walkways and pathways. Every morning at around five o’clock, I hear the sound of a campus worker sweeping the road outside of my building. That is his job every day. He uses this kind of broom and I hear the sound of tree branches on pavement, swishing in a reliably steady rhythm, and it warmly greets my dreams through the open window.

Of course, this way has been used for centuries and there is no need to improve on an idea that doesn’t need improving – something we westerners could learn from! – and so I haven’t seen near as many plastic options for brooms in this city. And we all know how often those plastic brooms break, loose bristles, etc. Cheap replicas of a system that was once based on what we could find in nature. Weren’t all systems? Yes, I believe they were.

As I was walking the other day, a woman was walking in front of me balancing two large pots, each dangling from the ends of a pole. This pole was perched horizontally across her shoulders. Again, this technique has been used for centuries and it obviously works; the weight is more evenly distributed and she walked quite easily with what appeared to be two quite heavy (full) soup pots.

Also, in Wudaokou – where the school district is and where huge buildings are being constructed as we speak with glossy signs and glass fronts – there is a railway crossing right beside the subway station. At this railway crossing, there are four large traffic arms that are lowered (by two attendants, one on each side, not automation) in order to stop the flow of traffic when the trains pass. They use big ropes and pulleys and the arms come down with a clang.

Well, one of these traffic arms is a tree. It’s not just made of wood; it’s actually a tree that has just been stripped of its branches and painted black and white. You can still see where it grew slightly bowed in the wind! It isn’t perfectly straight and it tapers at the far end just as a tree trunk tapers at the top. Why? Because it’s a tree!

When I noticed this, I had to take a picture. The other traffic arms have been replaced with more modern metal ones that were factory-made and look all uniform and boring, but this relic of a traffic arm remains (and entertains its metallic friends with its stories, I’m sure). I’m just touched that they didn’t replace it when the others were replaced or rotted away. Maybe that’s the Chinese way, i.e. “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!” It would appear so. (Does anyone know if there’s a Chinese “chengyu” (idiom) with this same meaning?)

Finally, in Shanghai, I was moved by the rows upon rows of laundry that seemed to float in the air above the streets. Of course, not literally. All of the upper apartments have these long metal arms that stretch out from their windows on which the residents hang their laundry outside of their homes to dry. I wondered how often someone loses a pair of underwear to the wind, or fetches their laundry only to find that a bird has taken off with one of their socks?! The colours floated like dozens of multinational flags. Somehow the gentle movement of the laundry in the breeze made the streets feel more neighbourly, as though everyone were open and airing their lives with abandon. “Who cares what people think of my pink underwear!” says the man upstairs . . .

I love it.

I love the connection points between old ways and new ways. It seems so real and raw at once, both stubbornly fighting to exist and/or remain. It seems to me that each has realized that only through an embrace can they survive.

Embracing survival.

Yet another lesson, courtesy of China.