Sheng Zhen in Hangzhou, China

raveling to China had never been on my bucket list, especially not without my adventurous hubby, so how did a country girl end up in Hangzhou, population 10 million, training in Sheng Zhen with 96 other international participants?
The short answer is that I’ve been teaching Sheng Zhen classes for about 25 years. Sheng Zhen, which translates as sacred truth or unconditional love, is meditation in motion and stillness.
The 18 standing, sitting, or lying down forms, some similar to qigong or tai chi, were developed by Master Li Junfeng in the 1990’s.
By the time he created the forms, he’d earned fame as the head coach of the Beijing wushu (martial arts) team and the national wushu team of China, with both teams winning numerous awards during his 15-year leadership. He also starred in and directed movies.
After creating the forms, Master Li moved to the Philippines and eventually to the United States, where he became dean of the Body Mind Department of the Academy of Oriental Medicine in Austin, TX.
While he lived in the U.S., he traveled around the country giving workshops and came to Moab once a year. The first time I met with my doctor, a naturopathic physician in Moab, he introduced me to one of the forms as a technique to manage Lupus, so I started to attend those weekend workshops.
However, in 2019, Master Li and his wife moved back to Beijing, and at the 2023 teacher training in Austin, he announced he would no longer travel to the United States.
If we wanted to see him in person, we’d have to go to China. Fortunately, he still teaches classes over Zoom once or twice a week, and that was good enough for me.
Until a still, small voice insinuated I should go to China. My idea of China included gigantic cities, overcrowded streets filled with bicycles, and an incomprehensible language.
However, the small voice became louder and more insistent. I asked Ted three different times if he’d like to go with me. Each time he said no. I didn’t want to go without him, but, finally, I called a Moab friend who had just decided to go minutes before my call. Another friend had made the same decision, and they’d both traveled to China before.
With much trepidation, I sidled on board. We bought plane tickets. I paid for the seminar and applied for a Visa. Obtaining the Visa is nerve-wracking.
Even though I started the process in June, mine still hadn’t arrived three days before I was supposed to leave town on October 25. I’d finally given up hope when I received a phone call that the Chinese Embassy had granted the Visa and stamped my passport. Since there’s no overnight service to Blanding, I had it Fed-Exed to a friend’s home in Salt Lake City where we stayed before we flew out.
We flew Delta, picked up another traveling companion in LA, and boarded the plane for Shanghai. We had great service, but the total flight time of 18 hours was arduous.
We arrived in Shanghai at 6 p.m., met with more of our group, and waited for our shuttle at 9:30 p.m. We then traveled to Hangzhou, via a bus, for three hours, arriving around one. My roommate, a 25-year-old from College Station, TX, turned out to be totally delightful. We finally fell asleep around 2:30 a.m.
At 9 a.m., 97 participants gathered from around the world: the U.S., Israel, Austria, France, Germany, Italy, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, Australia, Japan, the Philippines, Singapore, and China.
Many didn’t speak English fluently, but, fortunately, English is the universal language, so we communicated as well as we could.
We trained for four days, starting the second day at 6 a.m. and ending at 8:30 p.m., but we had generous lunch and dinner breaks, so I often walked around the beautiful lake near the hotel, greeting passersby with one of the two Chinese words I knew. When I did, people often stopped and began chatting, but their dogs reacted by backing away with their ruffs raised. The pooches had obviously never seen or smelled anything like me.
As the chatting continued, I finally had to shrug my shoulders in the universal gesture of “I’m totally ignorant of your language. So sorry,” but I wish I could have had a real conversation with them and found out about their homes, families, and lives.
Because the Chinese population has declined, couples are offered incentives to have children, and all the little ones I saw were well dressed and obviously cherished, often with the moms and dads taking photos with their cell phones.
Everyone had a cell phone, usually out, including those riding motor scooters. I honestly couldn’t understand why more accidents didn’t happen, but the drivers had horns, and they knew how to use them.
The lake was huge and beautiful with romantic boats for rent, music playing, well-groomed trees, bushes, flowers, stone bridges, and even an historic site where they’d dredged up ancient artifacts, including a 6,000-year-old tree.
One day as I was walking along the east side of the lake, I could hear Chinese opera being sung. Newlywed couples in traditional costumes posed for photographs. I whispered, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto.”
To be honest, Hangzhou was nothing like I’d imagined. Despite its huge population, flowers lined its clean streets and sidewalks.
Young women felt safe enough to walk alone at night. I saw no homeless people, and the individuals I met seemed warm and open. However, 130 Chinese people planned to join our training for the last two days in an East meets West reunion. Considering our different cultures and beliefs, how would we all get along? Or would we?
– To Be Continued