Monks debating in Lhasa
It Burns! Dunhuang sand dunes
Sunset on Old Town Kashgar
Mother Camel looks on anxiously at Karkul Lake
Kids from the yurt we stayed at in Karkul Lake
Urumqi Night Market
Self portait on Kashgar ferris wheel
Friday, April 28, 2006
We're on a fast hookup, so some recent photos
Monks debating in Lhasa
It Burns! Dunhuang sand dunes
Sunset on Old Town Kashgar
Mother Camel looks on anxiously at Karkul Lake
Kids from the yurt we stayed at in Karkul Lake
Urumqi Night Market
Self portait on Kashgar ferris wheel
Spring Has Sprung
After what seems like months of chasing summer around the world, I think we've finally caught up to spring here in Xi'an. We've sent back a box of some winter gear back home and our packs are a bit lighter, and another reason to feel more spritely. In the last few weeks, we've covered a huge portion of the Northwest and so I don't think we've got many more back to back marthon bus rides to look forward to (See Simon's post about traveling on buses and trains). And to boot, my spirits have definitely perked up at the realization that for the roughly the same price as hostel beds in South America, we can actually get private hotel rooms with its own bathroom, TV (though we don't understand any of it except for the NBA games that are broadcasted here. My poor Yao Ming!) and western (ie, non squat toilet). It speaks loads to our outlook on China, where we thought we would have to rough it the same or as more as we have before. Prices maybe going up in May, a big tourist season, as well as when we hit the big cities and some seedier rooms. But for now I must say we've been living really cush except for those crazy 20+ hour buses we've been taking.
Biscuit Roulette
I must say that in the land of some darn delicious high carb food, this country produces the ASSIEST biscuits I've ever tasted. There were times when we've opened up a package of crackers, taken one bite and went out to find a beggar on the street. I don't know if we're doing them any favors. But you honestly have no idea what you're gonna get, even if there is a description in English. For instance, on one package it was advertised as wheat bran biscuit with strawberry filling boasting real fruit. So judging from that information and the picture on package I'm thinking it's like of like a flattened whole wheat strawberry newton right? Clearly I've been living in California too long. It was some kind of deep fried saltine sandwich with a kreme filling like in an oreo, but with a fragrant artifical strawberry twist. But true to their word, there was a tiny silver dried strawberry on top. Yuck.
I guess we should learn how to read chinese so we will not choose the chemical flavored biscuit and know the difference between the differences in the label color. From my research (ie trial and a whole lot of error), in general blue seems the most benign, (the most you can ask for in a cracker here). Red is some flavor to the extreme and green is a wild card, it could be tame it could be horrific. What's even more appalling is that this crap is often individually wrapped, placed in a plastic tray and then sealed in a plastic bag. Why go through all that trouble to protect inedible food? It's beyond me. Simon has prohibited me from purchasing anything other than these chinese knock off of British disgestive biscuits we've found tolerable.
Me Talk Pretty Take Two
So as I tried to use French to get by in Spanish speaking countries, I've been trying to use my crappy Toisanese (a dialect of Cantonese) and crappier Cantonese to try to get by and it's a lot less successful than french and spanish (I'd say one of ten words are the same). I'm better off using English. Simon is really into pantomiming everything, partly b/c the locals get such a kick out of it. Women just burst into a fit of giggles. I myself cling to the lonely planet phrase section at the back of our guide. What was interesting was that I understood people in Xinjiang province, a province that is in the remote northwest of the province, (as far away as possible from the southwestern cantonese speaking provinces), than I understand people in provinces in the middle of the country. We did come across one cantonese speaker in the Holy Temple in Lhasa. But sadly my vocabulary doesn't extend to buddist concepts. In terms of reading, I guess I can read thousands of characaters, since I figured out how to read numbers, but other than numbers, I can recognize the character for noodles. The most important character to know if you ask me.
But speaking of language, it really cuts both ways. Some of the English "translations" (and that's a pretty strong word for what it is) is impressive here. On one menu, no joke, was "Chicken and Blue and Green Bamboo Explosion." I suppose it could be some kind of sophisticated name for a dish, like Chili's "Awesome Blossom."
Simon the Brazillian Nepali Uigher
You know that Michael Jackson video Black and White where people are morphing into different ethinicities. That's pretty much Simon traveling around the world. It's amazing is how Simon can pass as so many different ethinicities. A few people in South America thought he was Brazillian, a few Nepali guides on our trek thought he was Nepali, and Uighers thought he might have been kin. (Simon doing his best Muslim Uigher impression at the right). This is all until he opens he mouth and they realize he can't speak any portuguese, nepali or uigher. And so when they think he's Asian, they insist he's Korean.
But what's nice is that Simon and I defintely don't attract as much attention as tourists than we have anywhere else, for obvious reasons. In general, most people take one look at us and start talking in Chinese. And when Simon motions that he doesn't understand, they turn to me and repeat it again in Mandarin, cause clearly I'm not Korean.
American Trash Dreaming
Simon and I definitely feel more at home than we have in any other country we've been to, despite the significant language barriers here. We're in more familar territory than the extremely western tourist oriented Thamel District in Kathmandu, where pizza and burritos are on the menu of every restaurant. When we walk into a grocery store, we always end up saying "Oh I remember these..." And obviously most of the food is stuff we've seen at one point or another, but perhaps in an even more delicious incarnation than we've had in the states.
At the same time, as much as I hate to admit it, we're definitely hankering for a little bit of home. At one point, I was reading a book where they main characters were eating some nachos at a Hard Rock Cafe. I turned to Simon and said, "You know, before this trip, I would have never deigned to eat nachos at a Hard Rock. But if we came across a Hard Rock now..." And Simon nodded guiltly in agreement. I'm also slowly reading the Christmas issue of the New Yorker and it's got a lot of Christmas ads in there and it makes me really nostagic as well. Is it me, or did Banana Repubilc have a particularily compelling ad campaign this year?
Our Planned Route
We've also come up with a basic route for China. We'll spend the next month in central, southern and southwestern China, making it to Hong Kong before 5/24 when our visa's expire. Renew our visa there and then head up towards Bejing and Shanghai for the remainder of our time. We're thinking about trying to play in this ultimate frisbee tournament http://www.shanghai-ultimate.com/tourney/ in Shanghai. (Team Rice Bowl get your cleats ready!). But at the same time, the regmine of pork dumplings, ramen and overnight bus rides hasn't put me in the best shape and we might be better off missing the event (and eating some shanghainese soup dumplings instead). Clearly that's probably a better idea.
Mutton, Sandstorms, and the Silk Road
On the Move
We've been on the road a lot since Lhasa, rarely spending more than one night in the same place.
The list goes: Golmud, Dunhuang, Urumqi, Hotan (for four hours - we had to book it to Kashgar when the Hotan officials refused to renew our visas), Kashgar, Karkul, Kashgar, Urumqi, Xi'an (our current location).
Along the way, we suffered several long nights on sleeper buses. While not THAT bad, I'll pay extra for the train any day. On the bus, you get a bunk that lets a 5'11" person stretch out about three quarters of the way, knees slightly bent. At first, this seems reasonably comfortable, having spent 24 hours on a bus in Brazil without reclining seats. After a few hours, though, your body starts to complain about being squeezed into this little pod. You can't get up until the bus driver decides to stop for a bathroom break. The smoking doesn't help, either. On the bus from Urumqi to Hotan someone's kid soiled the sheets, sparking a frantic opening of windows and bringing down the bus driver's wrath on the poor parents. I've started carrying Tiger Balm on the bus to dab under my nose.
Xinjiang in My Nutshell
Northwestern China, like Tibet, feels like another country plopped inside China, which it kind of is, I guess. The Uighur, an Islamic Central Asian people, have called this region home for centuries, and their influence extends from the Islamic architectural touches to the local cuisine.
The late 1990s saw some separatist mutterings, but the gov't silenced those right quick, and followed up post-9/11 with another round of crackdowns. The Uighur independence movement doesn't rival Tibet's, and certainly lacks Tibet's international support. The Beastie Boys aren't putting on any Free Xinjiang concerts anytime soon. Xinjiang has been part of the Middle Kingdom for longer than Tibet, and appears well entrenched. The HUGE Mao statue in the middle of Kashgar puts a nice exclamation point on this (see photo, right before sand storm hits).
It's a fascinating place. We climbed giant sand dunes, ridden camels, traveled the Silk Road, spent the night with a Kyrgsh family in their yurt, and gawked at piles of bloody sheep heads at the livestock market. In Kashgar, sandstorms blow through the middle of the city (I have a photo with the flash reflecting of the billions of particles - like gritty snowflakes) and the medieval Uighur old town, with crumbling brick structures and alley mazes, is held siege on four sides by modern Chinese mid-rises. Donkey carts remain common transportation in the small towns, while Urumqi, Xinjiang's capital, boasts towering skyscrapers, freeways, an ESPRIT store, and a KFC with spotless bathrooms.
It's a region with two times (Beijing Time, used for all government functions and Xinjiang Time - two hours back - used for real life) and two languages (Uighur and Mandarin).
It also has two classes - Han Chinese occupy the sweet jobs and generally appear more affluent. We saw this dynamic played out on long-distance transit - sleeper train passengers were mainly Han Chinese, while Uighurs cram onto the more affordable sleeper bus. In fact, we've seen little Han and Uighur intermingling. The respective neighborhoods remain clearly defined in the big cities (little towns are mostly Uighur). A Romeo+Juliet tragedy needs to be made here.
Uighur Eats
Mutton pies, mutton noodles, mutton soup, mutton rice pilaf, mutton kebabs. Mutton, mutton, mutton. Mutton. I have eaten more sheep in the last couple of weeks than I will eat for rest of my life. Strangely, Jen and I began to crave standard Chinese food and steamed white rice, something I never thought I'd say in China.
But to be fair, we've enjoyed eating in Muslimland a lot. The mutton on noodles with peppers, tomato, and onions in a spicy red sauce - pretty damn good. Mutton kebabs on flatbread with a beer - what's not to like? Fresh sesame seed bagels, hot from the oven - deliciously crusty outside, soft inside. Rice pilaf with dates, raisins, and, yes, mutton - yummy. Freshly squeezed pomegranate juice from a street vendor - full of anti-oxidants! Goat entrails and skulls in greasy broth...ahh, no.
Other treats include fresh watermelon on every corner, sticky rice with syrup, fried dough and hot sweetened milk, veggie wraps (one of the few sources of vegetables in my diet lately), and more yogurt than you can shake your straw at.
Urumqi also has the most amazing night market ever, with two long blocks of food vendors calling out to you, twinkle lights overhead, and hordes of couples, friends, and families strolling by.
In terms of more exotic fare, to celebrate my bday, we had a blow out lunch at Urumqi's sole Caribbean restaurant, run by a couple from Curacao, presumably the only black people in western China. I asked the owner how she ended up here, and she shrugged, "The Caribbean was too small." Yeah, right. So you move to the most landlocked city in the world? Why not? Three words: "On the run." I expect the Colombian druglords they doublecrossed to show up any day now.
Language Trouble
I thought Brazil was tough. China is ridiculous. Fortunately, the people who we really need to speak English - visa officials, hotel staff - usually know just enough to get their message across. Otherwise, we point at characters in the Lonely Planet, pantomime, or Jen says it in Toisan/Cantonese and hopes something sticks (about 10% of the time we get lucky this way). We now try to frequent restaurants with more people because the food might be better, but also because we can look at the other tables' dishes and point at what we want. In general, we try to avoid playing Russian Roulette with the menu.
Actually, we get by ok, though occasionally hit rough spots. We spent 20 minutes in the post office in Urumqi trying to mail our warm clothes back to the US. Buying train tickets has proved a real pain in the ass. The office in Dunhuang was closed for some reason and a crowd built up waiting for the ticket lady to appear. So when she did show up, a violent rugby scrum erupted. I managed to scrawl the necessary characters on my notepad and shove my way to the front, but when she said, "ma-yo" (i.e., no tickets) I had no hope of trying to figure out when tickets might be available.* Instantly, the people behind me sensed my weakness and started yelling out their requests. (As any of you who have traveled in China know, the concept of queueing up is totally foreign here, exercised only at ATM machines.) Later, we tried buying tickets through a travel agent with limited English skills and he ended up buying us the wrong ones.
The worst part, though, is our complete inability to chat with locals. I loved shooting the shit in Peru and Argentina about anything from sports to local politics. I talked to cabbies, park rangers, people in bars. Even in Nepal most people knew enough English to have a basic discussion ("Maoists very bad. King also bad. Now no tourists."). Here we got nothing. Long train rides would be a lot more fun if we could communicate with our bunkmates.
For the most part, though, people have been incredibly patient, friendly, and accommodating about our language difficulties. A big smile and idiotic pantomiming goes a long way. Last week I tried to ask for yogurt by making mooing noises then pretending to pull on udders. The waitress loved that. We got two glasses of milk, of course.
My parents and Brian Go (if you're reading this) will be happy to know that my four years of Chinese at Xavier School and intensive Chinese tutoring under Angel Huang (from kindergarten through 3rd grade) have finally paid off. I can still count in Mandarin (ironically, I had to teach this to Jen), and recognize the symbols for man and woman - helpful in public bathrooms.
I do have some burning questions that I'd clear up if I spoke Chinese:
1. In Kashgar, two pre-teen boys stood at attention on the sidewalk, shirts off, with Uighur writing on their torsos. A small crowd clustered around them, reading the message. I know they weren't begging, though the kids did look mildly embarassed. Bizarre hazing ritual? Punished by parents? Radical advertising strategy?
2. What's with all the men gathered around talking on every street corner? This seems to be a Uighur phenomenon; haven't seen Chinese men do it yet. Are they buying or selling stuff? Or just hanging out, like an outdoor knitting circle?
3. Why do all the Chinese pop stars, male and female, wear their hair like Rod Stewart?
4. What the hell is up with the spitting? I'd been expecting it, but for god's sake. Right now, the guy next to me at the internet cafe keeps hacking up loogies and spitting them on the floor. There is a small pool of spit under his chair. Keep in mind this is a classy high tech internet cafe, not the bus station. Actually, I can live with the spitting. It's the violent throat clearing that kills me. Beijing needs to implement a " No Spitting in 2008!!" campaign or tI expect a lot of upset Olympic tourists.
Creature Comforts
John and Eric, my two Chinese American buddies had warned me that China would be tough. "You'll lose weight." "The cheap hotels will have nasty bathrooms." "People are rude."
Surprisingly, our standard of living has been higher here than in any other country thus far. Granted, we're not staying in the cheapest places, but for $10 to $15/night we get a room with private bath, cable TV, clean sheets, air con, and hot water. (I expect costs will shoot up on the East coast, especially when tourist season picks up in June.) Even in western China, the small cities were clean and modern, certainly more than Kathmandu. Thus far, people have been really nice, and we can also fly below the radar a little here; we don't stick out as much as the other foreign devils. Plus, the food has been cheap (maybe $5-10/day each) and it looks familiar and tastes good. (We can't wait to get to HK and Shanghai for dim sum and soup dumplings.) If we could speak Mandarin, traveling here would be a breeze.
Basketball Non-Sequitor
Hoops is big in China. I've seen a couple of NBA playoff games, which are broadcast in the morning live.
Bizarrely, Damon Jones, a relatively obscure player for the Cleveland Cavaliers, is sponsored by Li Ning, a Chinese sneaker brand with a logo that looks suspisciously like a certain swoosh. His photo is prominently displayed in the Xi'an store. Is he even on the Cav's starting 5?
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Farewell to Tibet - very delayed post
This post I originally wrote and thought I posted on 4/13/06. However, since blogger was all in Chinese and we can't actually access our blog site itself, it appears that I might not have ever posted this...oy. So it's completely out of context but since it's all ready written. It's funny, that the first thing I wrote is how chronologically off it is...
Okay we just got to Golmud in Gansu province, and we're spending the next several days traveling overland to Kashgar. This is slightly chronologically off post that I've been mulling over...
Milestones and the day-to-day
Before I checked my email the other day, I was going to write about how wierd it was to be so far away and to hear about huge milestones in the lives of friends and family. In the last month alone, I've received news that included three new babies and a wedding. It felt wierd that others were at an important juncture in their lives, while we were in a context that was so different. I wasn't sure how to quite celebrate these occasions and have punted it until my return.
But when I opened my email that morning, I learned of the deaths of my great aunt and of a former frisbee teammate of mine. My great aunt was 102, but sadly Ana did not live to be even a third of her age. And again, I found myself at somewhat of a loss as to how I should celebrate their lives here in in Asia. They have certainly been in our thoughts these last few days, and again there is a disconnect to where I am personally and physically. I do believe that one should not suffer to celebrate the life of another and that we should go on living life to our fullest as they would have done themselves. So I'll go on...
Leaving Tibet
I am really sad to have left Tibet. Tibet was high on my list of places to visit, and 12 days just wasn't enough. You really do get a sense of how Buddism and faith are intertwined into the every day life of Tibetans and of the sacred in the every day. I still want to do the three day kora (pilgrammage) trek around Mt. Kailash ending up at Lake Mansogovar. Both the lake and mountain are considered holy. It seems like a wonderful way to incorporate the stunningly beautiful landscape with the culture of the everyday people. But unfortunately, we had to trade in our six month visas to China for a 21 day visa into Tibet and we would need to get out of Tibet to renew our visas. Tibet is definitely on the list of places I would like to come back to.
We spent five days in Lhasa, hanging out with these very funny and very tall Dutch guys from our tour. (One of them had the idea that we should have photoshopped the image of the Dalai Lama on to a naked body, and flash it everytime we were asked by the locals for pictures of the Lama). I think I needed that traveling time as I was definitely getting torn between excited and tired by the time we got there. We also sprung for a pretty nice hotel room ($12/night !) and it was nice to have central heat and a private bathroom with 24 hour running hot water. (I can't describe what luxuries they are). I do feel like the night at Base Camp took a lot out of me...
Everest Base Camp
After sitting in a car for three days plus an elevation of over 4900 m, I actually had a hard time walking the 8 km and the extra 300 m increase in altitude up to base camp. It's amazing how quickly my trekking phsyque left me. I felt I could have done it, but given that I was so far behind everyone else (again, I was definitely having breathing issues) and it was getting colder, we hired a donkey cart to take me the rest of the way up. It was actually pretty fun to take the cart, but there was definitely a part of me that was frustrated that I couldn't keep up with everyone else and it was a slightly bitter pill to swallow. But I think it was the right thing to do.
That night, I do remember thinking to myself "this is the worst night of my life." I was completely wide awake, my heart and head pounding and felt so quesy I couldn't lie down, even after two doses of advil and a litre of water. You know there is something terribly wrong with me, if a bowl of homemade noodles seems terribly unappetizing to me, which were offered for both dinner and breakfast (and to this day, I find myself hesitating a little before eating noodle soup. Hopefully this will go away.)
Thankfully I wasn't experiencing serious symptoms of AMS, but I kept looking at my watch counting down the minutes until the sun rose and we could go down. But even then, I don't recall regretting spending the night up there. (I knew if I hadn't gone I would have regretted it.) And of course the next day, we had to drive over two passes, each over 5000 m again and our headaches returned with each ascent. Ow.
The Camping Americans
What's neat about traveling is how you end up meeting up with people again. While we where in Tingri, Tibet, we ran into the Camping Americans again. It turned out one of them suffered so much from AMS, that they had to turn around before making it over Thorongla Pass. But now they were heading over to Everest, armed with Diamox (altitidue sickness pills) and hoped to do the trek. And while I admire them for what they were doing, I was glad I wasn't doing that trek because it was really cold. (See Simon's last post for a description of the conditions).
A Note on Food
For all of you who said I would lose weight in Nepal since all there is Dal Bhaat (lentils and rice), you were totally wrong. I love Dal Bhaat and while eating it twice a day was a bit much, we enjoyed it and definitely find myself still craving it. In fact, while we were in Lhasa, I made us go to Nepali run restaurants to get my fill. Of course, it was three times more expensive in Tibet. But some of the places were decent. Another reason to be sad to be leaving Tibet since there won't be any more Dal Bhaat.
But we've discovered the joys of hot pot and muslim cooking as we enter into mainland China. Simon is in meat-on-a-stick heaven and I am in dumpling/wonton heaven. But the food will change more, as we head north into Xinjiang province to Kashgar, which is heavily influenced by Muslim and East European culture. Hopefully we'll post some pictures and food porn soon. Stay tuned...
Okay we just got to Golmud in Gansu province, and we're spending the next several days traveling overland to Kashgar. This is slightly chronologically off post that I've been mulling over...
Milestones and the day-to-day
Before I checked my email the other day, I was going to write about how wierd it was to be so far away and to hear about huge milestones in the lives of friends and family. In the last month alone, I've received news that included three new babies and a wedding. It felt wierd that others were at an important juncture in their lives, while we were in a context that was so different. I wasn't sure how to quite celebrate these occasions and have punted it until my return.
But when I opened my email that morning, I learned of the deaths of my great aunt and of a former frisbee teammate of mine. My great aunt was 102, but sadly Ana did not live to be even a third of her age. And again, I found myself at somewhat of a loss as to how I should celebrate their lives here in in Asia. They have certainly been in our thoughts these last few days, and again there is a disconnect to where I am personally and physically. I do believe that one should not suffer to celebrate the life of another and that we should go on living life to our fullest as they would have done themselves. So I'll go on...
Leaving Tibet
I am really sad to have left Tibet. Tibet was high on my list of places to visit, and 12 days just wasn't enough. You really do get a sense of how Buddism and faith are intertwined into the every day life of Tibetans and of the sacred in the every day. I still want to do the three day kora (pilgrammage) trek around Mt. Kailash ending up at Lake Mansogovar. Both the lake and mountain are considered holy. It seems like a wonderful way to incorporate the stunningly beautiful landscape with the culture of the everyday people. But unfortunately, we had to trade in our six month visas to China for a 21 day visa into Tibet and we would need to get out of Tibet to renew our visas. Tibet is definitely on the list of places I would like to come back to.
We spent five days in Lhasa, hanging out with these very funny and very tall Dutch guys from our tour. (One of them had the idea that we should have photoshopped the image of the Dalai Lama on to a naked body, and flash it everytime we were asked by the locals for pictures of the Lama). I think I needed that traveling time as I was definitely getting torn between excited and tired by the time we got there. We also sprung for a pretty nice hotel room ($12/night !) and it was nice to have central heat and a private bathroom with 24 hour running hot water. (I can't describe what luxuries they are). I do feel like the night at Base Camp took a lot out of me...
Everest Base Camp
After sitting in a car for three days plus an elevation of over 4900 m, I actually had a hard time walking the 8 km and the extra 300 m increase in altitude up to base camp. It's amazing how quickly my trekking phsyque left me. I felt I could have done it, but given that I was so far behind everyone else (again, I was definitely having breathing issues) and it was getting colder, we hired a donkey cart to take me the rest of the way up. It was actually pretty fun to take the cart, but there was definitely a part of me that was frustrated that I couldn't keep up with everyone else and it was a slightly bitter pill to swallow. But I think it was the right thing to do.
That night, I do remember thinking to myself "this is the worst night of my life." I was completely wide awake, my heart and head pounding and felt so quesy I couldn't lie down, even after two doses of advil and a litre of water. You know there is something terribly wrong with me, if a bowl of homemade noodles seems terribly unappetizing to me, which were offered for both dinner and breakfast (and to this day, I find myself hesitating a little before eating noodle soup. Hopefully this will go away.)
Thankfully I wasn't experiencing serious symptoms of AMS, but I kept looking at my watch counting down the minutes until the sun rose and we could go down. But even then, I don't recall regretting spending the night up there. (I knew if I hadn't gone I would have regretted it.) And of course the next day, we had to drive over two passes, each over 5000 m again and our headaches returned with each ascent. Ow.
The Camping Americans
What's neat about traveling is how you end up meeting up with people again. While we where in Tingri, Tibet, we ran into the Camping Americans again. It turned out one of them suffered so much from AMS, that they had to turn around before making it over Thorongla Pass. But now they were heading over to Everest, armed with Diamox (altitidue sickness pills) and hoped to do the trek. And while I admire them for what they were doing, I was glad I wasn't doing that trek because it was really cold. (See Simon's last post for a description of the conditions).
A Note on Food
For all of you who said I would lose weight in Nepal since all there is Dal Bhaat (lentils and rice), you were totally wrong. I love Dal Bhaat and while eating it twice a day was a bit much, we enjoyed it and definitely find myself still craving it. In fact, while we were in Lhasa, I made us go to Nepali run restaurants to get my fill. Of course, it was three times more expensive in Tibet. But some of the places were decent. Another reason to be sad to be leaving Tibet since there won't be any more Dal Bhaat.
But we've discovered the joys of hot pot and muslim cooking as we enter into mainland China. Simon is in meat-on-a-stick heaven and I am in dumpling/wonton heaven. But the food will change more, as we head north into Xinjiang province to Kashgar, which is heavily influenced by Muslim and East European culture. Hopefully we'll post some pictures and food porn soon. Stay tuned...
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Kathmandu to Lhasa Via Everest Base Camp
Last Days in Kathmandu
With some downtime in Kathmandu as our Tibet visas were processed, we went rafting and checked out Bakhtapur, an old town outside the city. We also managed to avoid buying last minute souvenirs, which we'd have to drag across China. It was tough, with everything so cheap.
I did stock up on books, though, at Kathmandu's great used book shops. Theyre way better than the ones at home, which is saying something considering Berkeley is a university town with many learn-ed residents. Here, travelers sell books for peanuts instead of hording them on their bookshelves. So you can find great new stuff like Jhumpa Lahiri, classics like Eliot (who Jen can't get enough of for some reason), and the standard Brown/Grisham/Crichton paperbacks at good prices.
The fear of having nothing to read gnaws at me constantly, so I bought a reassuringly large stack before taking off, figuring English books would be hard to find in China. Every time I meet an English-speaking tourist, I ask if they have anything that they've already read and beg them to trade used books with me.*
We got out of Kathmandu just in time. Nepal is a mess nowadays. Basically, all the political parties have made an agreement to work towards a multiparty democracy with the Maoist insurgents. They planned a series of strikes and demonstrations in early April. The King sees the agreement as a threat to his power. So he issues a curfew and threatens to clamp down on all political demonstrations. Already, the royal army has been arresting suspected dissidents for some time, doing god knows what with them. The Maoists contribute to the mess by continuing to blow up things. At the end of the day, it's regular people like shopowners, travel agents, restaurant workers - people that depend on tourists - that suffer. Nobody likes the King or the Maoists.
The Border
On April Fool's Day, Jen and I boarded a minibus for the border, then switched to a 4wd Land Cruiser in Tibet. The border crossing (our first via land) went smoothly, thanks to the Nepali and Tibetan guides handling all the paperwork (and the Chinese LOVE their paperwork). Just before entering Tibet, a guy ordered us to take off our backpacks and line them up against a wall. He then sprayed the packs with a chemical to kill every possible organism that could be trying to sneak across the border without proper papers. The poor Nepalis and Tibetans walking across just covered their mouths as the guy sprayed down the loads on their backs.
The fact that we'd entered China immediately became clear as the crummy old Nepali brick buildings were immediately replaced by crummy new Chinese concrete buildings.
Seven Days in Tibet
We spent seven days, six nights in a Land Cruiser with two Tibetans (a guide and a driver), two Dutch guys over 6'5", and four big packs. Kind of crowded, so we took turns sitting on the spare tire in the trunk. I'd say 85% of the ride was on dirt roads, 10% on paved roads, and 5% on some kind of cross-country trail that you couldn't really call a "road." We saw incredibly bleak and gorgeous deserts, drove over several 5000+ meter passes with webs of prayer flags fluttering in the wind, stopped at isolated Tibetan villages populated by semi-nomadic yak herders, and got out of the truck to urinate in some truly spectacular, desolate spots.
But honestly, the drive satisfied any urge I had to go trekking in this region. It was windy, cold, dry, and while incredibly beautiful, the landscape was best appreciated from inside a warm SUV. We met a guy who was biking a similar route and the whole time I kept thinking how rough it would be to slog though the wind, sand, altitude, and below freezing temps everyday. I also saw another bike tourist going from Lhasa to Kathmandu who looked like a Mad Max extra - big aviator goggles, sand in all his stuff, totally sun and wind burned.
Although the route sees its fair share of travelers moving between Lhasa and Kathmandu, it didn't feel touristy at all. For the most part, local people seemed to maintain their cultural identity and few go out of their way to serve tourists and earn their dollars. Folks still typically dress in traditional clothing, and not just so they can charge you to take their photo.
The sheer toughness of rural Tibetans, living in ridiculously harsh conditions, is amazing. We'd see guys herding their yaks in below freezing temps, dust and sand blowing everywhere, their faces like leather, hair long and wild. Eastern Tibetans, in particular, are pretty big, rough and ready. They wear red cords braided into their hair, leather boots, and big sheepskin vests. You wouldn’t want to get into a bar fight with one of these guys (or the women, either, for that matter). At the same time, all the Tibetans we've met have been friendly, warm, easy going, and quick to laugh.
Food and Lodging
With the exception of Everest base camp, we stayed in guest houses of varying quality, depending on the size of the town. Lodging ranged from a concrete room with old mattresses and a single light bulb to a room with cable, carpeting, and a big thermos of hot water for tea.
No matter the quality of the hotel, however, the food was mediocre at best. Mostly greasy noodles and other fried stuff. Nothing inspiring. Even the traditional Tibetan momos (like pot stickers), which we really liked in Nepal, were rubbery and often lukewarm. Bad enough to make me miss Nepali cuisine. In fact, when we got to Shigatse, the second biggest town in Tibet, we went straight to the Nepali restaurant and had some dal baht. OK, so it's one of the most isolated, unarable regions in the world - I can see why the food ain't all gourmet and shit.
Actually, we were excited to try yak butter tea, a Tibetan staple, simply because we’d heard stories about how disgusting it was. (Lonely Planet claims it tastes like someone washed their socks in it.) The Snow Leopard and Seven Years in Tibet also heavily featured the drink. It's basically a smoothie made of black tea, yak butter, hot water, and salt - how bad could it be? Hey, I love smoothies! So on our first night on the road, we walked into a dive where the customers were warming themselves over bare electric coils. We ordered a big thermos for the four of us (me, Jen, the two Dutch dudes). So...it’s not THAT bad. I mean it's really rich and, um, salty, and, ok, not so good. Also, I now associate it with the nausea and headache of altitude sickness.
Base Camp
On the way to Lhasa, we spent a night at Everest Base Camp, and enjoyed spectacular views of the mountain. With the clear blue sky and thin air, it looked like you could reach the peak in a solid day's climb, as opposed to the actual multi-week ordeal. We have great pictures.
Base camp, a 2-hour hike up from the Land Cruisers, is a tent city set up by entrepreneurs to serve tourists, expedition members, sherpas, and porters. Each canvas shelter (looks like Frisbee Central at an ultimate tournament) is like a mini-guesthouse. They'd give you a hard bed, all the blankets you wanted, a choice between fried rice, noodle soup, and omelettes, and all the free tea you could drink (which fortunately included jasmine as well as yak butter tea). You could also get cans of Budweiser and Pabst Blue Ribbon, the Official American beers of Tibet. The lady of the house even tucked us in.
The downside of spending the night at 5000+ meters was that we all suffered from altitude sickness. I felt nauseous and had a headache in the morning. (Also, I'd gotten up to take a leak in the freezing cold three times because of all the tea I'd drunk.) Jen had "the worst night of her life." One of the Dutch guys threw up and couldn't walk straight. He had to get a pony ride back to the Land Cruisers. There's no avoiding it - we just gained too much altitude too quickly coming from Kathmandu.
I think the smoky, sickly sweet smell of burning yak dung, which they use here instead of firewood, also made us all a little ill. I will forever associate this smell with Tibet, though I can't imagine where else I'm going to run into it.
Sanitary conditions at base camp were a disaster. Because the tower of feces had extended a couple of inches past the hole, people make do, literally, wherever. At least the cold keeps away the flies and dulls the smell.
China and Tibet, Best Buddies
On the plus side, the insane days of the Cultural Revolution are over. No longer are Red Guards knocking off monasteries, temples, and people across the region. Tibetan Buddhism is tolerated, at best, and Tibetan culture is allowed to exist in a non-threatening forms like cultural shows and pilgrimages.
On the negative side, Tibet essentially remains a police state. Photos of the Dalai Lama are prohibited, dissidence is not tolerated, and you certainly aren't going to find any copies of Seven Years in Tibet floating around. Try Googling www.freetibet.org while in China. The link appears on the search list, but you can't connect. This screened version of web searches reflects the deal Google recently struck with the Chinese government.
Furthermore, instead of brute force, the Chinese gov't has adopted a more subtle and arguably effective approach by slowly smothering Tibetan life with cultural domination. Thanks to a concerted effort by the government to get Han Chinese to move here, Lhasa, once the center of Tibetan culture, has become a typical Chinese city with some Tibetan bits. Various economic and employment incentives for mainlanders to move to Lhasa threaten to make Tibetans a minority in their own capital. In 2007, a new rail line will open up Lhasa to the rest of China even more, further eroding Tibetan life. The Dalai Lhama, currently in exile in India, has intimated that he may be the last in the line because he will not locate a replacement reincarnated form in occupied Tibet.
That being said, the remaining Tibetan elements of Lhasa are impressive. The Potala, the Dalai Lama's historic winter residence and probably the world's most imposing building, is worth a visit. The steady stream of rural pilgrims throughout town, wandering around , spinning hand-held prayer wheels, is fascinating. And again, despite a fair number of tourists here, it doesn't feel the least bit touristy. Only a handful of restaurants serve Western food, there are no t-shirt shops or even money exchangers, and few people speak English. Mainland Chinese tourists, however, are well taken care of, with numerous hotels and eateries catering to their needs.
How Are We Doing?
In general, pretty good. I recently had a minor bout of the runs, Jen had a small head cold, but otherwise we've stayed pretty healthy.
More of an issue than our physical health, however, has been our mental health. When we first got to Nepal we found ourselves at a low. We’d been away for 4 months, and the constant traveling had worn us down, something I never thought would happen. Kathmandu's sheer foreignness also proved exhausting to us in this low-energy state. We missed stupid things like cereal in the morning, comfy bathrooms, movies. We missed our friends.
On a day to day basis, we'd both go back and forth on our travel plans, alternately thinking “Screw it, let's just go home in mid-May like we planned” versus “This is the trip of a lifetime. Let's do it right and take our time.” Things like the quality of breakfast on a particular day or how friendly the bus driver was would change my mind. An hour or two of hanging out with a fun English-speaking tourist would strengthen my resolve. I liked to think that I was tough enough to keep traveling, but felt embarrassingly attracted to the comforts of home.
We delayed the decision until we'd finished our 3-week trek, figuring we'd be in a more positive state of mind after some walking in the mountains. That turned out to be a good thing. We had a great time on the trek, met lots of nice people, and then spent a few days just relaxing in Pokhara, a quiet town near Annapurna with comforts like fresh brewed coffee, cable TV, and oatmeal. After some minor hemming and hawing, we figured 6 more weeks was the way to go. That would allow a comfy pace through Tibet and China, but would avoid burnout, getting caught in the thick of monsoon season, and the evaporation of all our cash. So that's it, we're back at the end of June.
I realize how incredibly indulgent it is to stress about how much longer we're going to extend our vacation. This is not lost on me, trust me. Everyday, I’m thankful for this trip. But at the same time, I’m excited to see my friends, share pictures, and reminisce about how great the trip was.
It's weird to look forward to the reminiscing, but that can be best part. While traveling, you're regularly challenged and often uncomfortable. For every high, you hit multiple lows. It's not all mountain passes and delicious street food on sticks. Mostly, it's sitting on cramped buses, getting ripped off, washing filthy socks in the sink, and killing time in airports. But afterwards, all you remember are the good bits, and even the bad parts seem exciting and exotic.
Where to Next?
We're headed up to northwest China - Muslim, Silk Road territory. This area sees very few tourists, Chinese or otherwise. Travel infrastructure is bad, and with neither of us speaking Mandarin, getting around will be a little daunting. I'm going to take Jen Kahn's advice and draw up little flashcards with pictures of buses, beds, etc. I'm also getting into pantomiming everything. Though today I could not explain alcohol based hand cleanser (aka Purel) to the ladies at the supermarket. They offered me hand lotion, clothes detergent, and handi-wipes, but no Purel. It may not exist here.
* In case you're interested, I got:
The Ground Beneath Her Feet, Salman Rushdie - I read him for the first time on the Annapurna Circuit and liked him a lot. A little like a foreign film that you might not always enjoy as you're watching it, but then you think, "Hey, that was pretty good" afterwards. More importantly, the book is huge and dense so it'll last a long time.
Seven Years in Tibet, Heinrich Harrer - Just finished this. No one will ever accuse him of being a great writer, and he could very well be a Nazi, but it was good to read this right before hitting Lhasa. Shows life here before the Chinese invasion, I mean "liberation."
Red China Blues, Jan Wong - Reading it now. Memoir of a Chinese Canadian college student who comes to Beijing as a hard core Maoist at the tale end of the Cultural Revolution. She then proceeds to have her idealism busted by the reality of life under Mr. and Mrs. Mao and the Gang of Four. Good history lesson. Really disturbing account of the Tianamen Square Massacre when she returns as a foreign correspondent.
Waiting, Ha Jin - I figured I had to read something that wasn't bashing China. Some kind of comedy novel set in modern China?
Glue, Irvine Welsh - He wrote Trainspotting, which was supposed to be great. But this book is longer and therefore better. The dialogue is all in Cockney English (phonetically spelled out) so we'll see.
Some trashy paperback I managed to wheedle out of a Dutch guy. One of the reviews says it "would make the perfect Tom Cruise movie." Um, is that a good thing or a bad thing?
With some downtime in Kathmandu as our Tibet visas were processed, we went rafting and checked out Bakhtapur, an old town outside the city. We also managed to avoid buying last minute souvenirs, which we'd have to drag across China. It was tough, with everything so cheap.
I did stock up on books, though, at Kathmandu's great used book shops. Theyre way better than the ones at home, which is saying something considering Berkeley is a university town with many learn-ed residents. Here, travelers sell books for peanuts instead of hording them on their bookshelves. So you can find great new stuff like Jhumpa Lahiri, classics like Eliot (who Jen can't get enough of for some reason), and the standard Brown/Grisham/Crichton paperbacks at good prices.
The fear of having nothing to read gnaws at me constantly, so I bought a reassuringly large stack before taking off, figuring English books would be hard to find in China. Every time I meet an English-speaking tourist, I ask if they have anything that they've already read and beg them to trade used books with me.*
We got out of Kathmandu just in time. Nepal is a mess nowadays. Basically, all the political parties have made an agreement to work towards a multiparty democracy with the Maoist insurgents. They planned a series of strikes and demonstrations in early April. The King sees the agreement as a threat to his power. So he issues a curfew and threatens to clamp down on all political demonstrations. Already, the royal army has been arresting suspected dissidents for some time, doing god knows what with them. The Maoists contribute to the mess by continuing to blow up things. At the end of the day, it's regular people like shopowners, travel agents, restaurant workers - people that depend on tourists - that suffer. Nobody likes the King or the Maoists.
The Border
On April Fool's Day, Jen and I boarded a minibus for the border, then switched to a 4wd Land Cruiser in Tibet. The border crossing (our first via land) went smoothly, thanks to the Nepali and Tibetan guides handling all the paperwork (and the Chinese LOVE their paperwork). Just before entering Tibet, a guy ordered us to take off our backpacks and line them up against a wall. He then sprayed the packs with a chemical to kill every possible organism that could be trying to sneak across the border without proper papers. The poor Nepalis and Tibetans walking across just covered their mouths as the guy sprayed down the loads on their backs.
The fact that we'd entered China immediately became clear as the crummy old Nepali brick buildings were immediately replaced by crummy new Chinese concrete buildings.
Seven Days in Tibet
We spent seven days, six nights in a Land Cruiser with two Tibetans (a guide and a driver), two Dutch guys over 6'5", and four big packs. Kind of crowded, so we took turns sitting on the spare tire in the trunk. I'd say 85% of the ride was on dirt roads, 10% on paved roads, and 5% on some kind of cross-country trail that you couldn't really call a "road." We saw incredibly bleak and gorgeous deserts, drove over several 5000+ meter passes with webs of prayer flags fluttering in the wind, stopped at isolated Tibetan villages populated by semi-nomadic yak herders, and got out of the truck to urinate in some truly spectacular, desolate spots.
But honestly, the drive satisfied any urge I had to go trekking in this region. It was windy, cold, dry, and while incredibly beautiful, the landscape was best appreciated from inside a warm SUV. We met a guy who was biking a similar route and the whole time I kept thinking how rough it would be to slog though the wind, sand, altitude, and below freezing temps everyday. I also saw another bike tourist going from Lhasa to Kathmandu who looked like a Mad Max extra - big aviator goggles, sand in all his stuff, totally sun and wind burned.
Although the route sees its fair share of travelers moving between Lhasa and Kathmandu, it didn't feel touristy at all. For the most part, local people seemed to maintain their cultural identity and few go out of their way to serve tourists and earn their dollars. Folks still typically dress in traditional clothing, and not just so they can charge you to take their photo.
The sheer toughness of rural Tibetans, living in ridiculously harsh conditions, is amazing. We'd see guys herding their yaks in below freezing temps, dust and sand blowing everywhere, their faces like leather, hair long and wild. Eastern Tibetans, in particular, are pretty big, rough and ready. They wear red cords braided into their hair, leather boots, and big sheepskin vests. You wouldn’t want to get into a bar fight with one of these guys (or the women, either, for that matter). At the same time, all the Tibetans we've met have been friendly, warm, easy going, and quick to laugh.
Food and Lodging
With the exception of Everest base camp, we stayed in guest houses of varying quality, depending on the size of the town. Lodging ranged from a concrete room with old mattresses and a single light bulb to a room with cable, carpeting, and a big thermos of hot water for tea.
No matter the quality of the hotel, however, the food was mediocre at best. Mostly greasy noodles and other fried stuff. Nothing inspiring. Even the traditional Tibetan momos (like pot stickers), which we really liked in Nepal, were rubbery and often lukewarm. Bad enough to make me miss Nepali cuisine. In fact, when we got to Shigatse, the second biggest town in Tibet, we went straight to the Nepali restaurant and had some dal baht. OK, so it's one of the most isolated, unarable regions in the world - I can see why the food ain't all gourmet and shit.
Actually, we were excited to try yak butter tea, a Tibetan staple, simply because we’d heard stories about how disgusting it was. (Lonely Planet claims it tastes like someone washed their socks in it.) The Snow Leopard and Seven Years in Tibet also heavily featured the drink. It's basically a smoothie made of black tea, yak butter, hot water, and salt - how bad could it be? Hey, I love smoothies! So on our first night on the road, we walked into a dive where the customers were warming themselves over bare electric coils. We ordered a big thermos for the four of us (me, Jen, the two Dutch dudes). So...it’s not THAT bad. I mean it's really rich and, um, salty, and, ok, not so good. Also, I now associate it with the nausea and headache of altitude sickness.
Base Camp
On the way to Lhasa, we spent a night at Everest Base Camp, and enjoyed spectacular views of the mountain. With the clear blue sky and thin air, it looked like you could reach the peak in a solid day's climb, as opposed to the actual multi-week ordeal. We have great pictures.
Base camp, a 2-hour hike up from the Land Cruisers, is a tent city set up by entrepreneurs to serve tourists, expedition members, sherpas, and porters. Each canvas shelter (looks like Frisbee Central at an ultimate tournament) is like a mini-guesthouse. They'd give you a hard bed, all the blankets you wanted, a choice between fried rice, noodle soup, and omelettes, and all the free tea you could drink (which fortunately included jasmine as well as yak butter tea). You could also get cans of Budweiser and Pabst Blue Ribbon, the Official American beers of Tibet. The lady of the house even tucked us in.
The downside of spending the night at 5000+ meters was that we all suffered from altitude sickness. I felt nauseous and had a headache in the morning. (Also, I'd gotten up to take a leak in the freezing cold three times because of all the tea I'd drunk.) Jen had "the worst night of her life." One of the Dutch guys threw up and couldn't walk straight. He had to get a pony ride back to the Land Cruisers. There's no avoiding it - we just gained too much altitude too quickly coming from Kathmandu.
I think the smoky, sickly sweet smell of burning yak dung, which they use here instead of firewood, also made us all a little ill. I will forever associate this smell with Tibet, though I can't imagine where else I'm going to run into it.
Sanitary conditions at base camp were a disaster. Because the tower of feces had extended a couple of inches past the hole, people make do, literally, wherever. At least the cold keeps away the flies and dulls the smell.
China and Tibet, Best Buddies
On the plus side, the insane days of the Cultural Revolution are over. No longer are Red Guards knocking off monasteries, temples, and people across the region. Tibetan Buddhism is tolerated, at best, and Tibetan culture is allowed to exist in a non-threatening forms like cultural shows and pilgrimages.
On the negative side, Tibet essentially remains a police state. Photos of the Dalai Lama are prohibited, dissidence is not tolerated, and you certainly aren't going to find any copies of Seven Years in Tibet floating around. Try Googling www.freetibet.org while in China. The link appears on the search list, but you can't connect. This screened version of web searches reflects the deal Google recently struck with the Chinese government.
Furthermore, instead of brute force, the Chinese gov't has adopted a more subtle and arguably effective approach by slowly smothering Tibetan life with cultural domination. Thanks to a concerted effort by the government to get Han Chinese to move here, Lhasa, once the center of Tibetan culture, has become a typical Chinese city with some Tibetan bits. Various economic and employment incentives for mainlanders to move to Lhasa threaten to make Tibetans a minority in their own capital. In 2007, a new rail line will open up Lhasa to the rest of China even more, further eroding Tibetan life. The Dalai Lhama, currently in exile in India, has intimated that he may be the last in the line because he will not locate a replacement reincarnated form in occupied Tibet.
That being said, the remaining Tibetan elements of Lhasa are impressive. The Potala, the Dalai Lama's historic winter residence and probably the world's most imposing building, is worth a visit. The steady stream of rural pilgrims throughout town, wandering around , spinning hand-held prayer wheels, is fascinating. And again, despite a fair number of tourists here, it doesn't feel the least bit touristy. Only a handful of restaurants serve Western food, there are no t-shirt shops or even money exchangers, and few people speak English. Mainland Chinese tourists, however, are well taken care of, with numerous hotels and eateries catering to their needs.
How Are We Doing?
In general, pretty good. I recently had a minor bout of the runs, Jen had a small head cold, but otherwise we've stayed pretty healthy.
More of an issue than our physical health, however, has been our mental health. When we first got to Nepal we found ourselves at a low. We’d been away for 4 months, and the constant traveling had worn us down, something I never thought would happen. Kathmandu's sheer foreignness also proved exhausting to us in this low-energy state. We missed stupid things like cereal in the morning, comfy bathrooms, movies. We missed our friends.
On a day to day basis, we'd both go back and forth on our travel plans, alternately thinking “Screw it, let's just go home in mid-May like we planned” versus “This is the trip of a lifetime. Let's do it right and take our time.” Things like the quality of breakfast on a particular day or how friendly the bus driver was would change my mind. An hour or two of hanging out with a fun English-speaking tourist would strengthen my resolve. I liked to think that I was tough enough to keep traveling, but felt embarrassingly attracted to the comforts of home.
We delayed the decision until we'd finished our 3-week trek, figuring we'd be in a more positive state of mind after some walking in the mountains. That turned out to be a good thing. We had a great time on the trek, met lots of nice people, and then spent a few days just relaxing in Pokhara, a quiet town near Annapurna with comforts like fresh brewed coffee, cable TV, and oatmeal. After some minor hemming and hawing, we figured 6 more weeks was the way to go. That would allow a comfy pace through Tibet and China, but would avoid burnout, getting caught in the thick of monsoon season, and the evaporation of all our cash. So that's it, we're back at the end of June.
I realize how incredibly indulgent it is to stress about how much longer we're going to extend our vacation. This is not lost on me, trust me. Everyday, I’m thankful for this trip. But at the same time, I’m excited to see my friends, share pictures, and reminisce about how great the trip was.
It's weird to look forward to the reminiscing, but that can be best part. While traveling, you're regularly challenged and often uncomfortable. For every high, you hit multiple lows. It's not all mountain passes and delicious street food on sticks. Mostly, it's sitting on cramped buses, getting ripped off, washing filthy socks in the sink, and killing time in airports. But afterwards, all you remember are the good bits, and even the bad parts seem exciting and exotic.
Where to Next?
We're headed up to northwest China - Muslim, Silk Road territory. This area sees very few tourists, Chinese or otherwise. Travel infrastructure is bad, and with neither of us speaking Mandarin, getting around will be a little daunting. I'm going to take Jen Kahn's advice and draw up little flashcards with pictures of buses, beds, etc. I'm also getting into pantomiming everything. Though today I could not explain alcohol based hand cleanser (aka Purel) to the ladies at the supermarket. They offered me hand lotion, clothes detergent, and handi-wipes, but no Purel. It may not exist here.
* In case you're interested, I got:
The Ground Beneath Her Feet, Salman Rushdie - I read him for the first time on the Annapurna Circuit and liked him a lot. A little like a foreign film that you might not always enjoy as you're watching it, but then you think, "Hey, that was pretty good" afterwards. More importantly, the book is huge and dense so it'll last a long time.
Seven Years in Tibet, Heinrich Harrer - Just finished this. No one will ever accuse him of being a great writer, and he could very well be a Nazi, but it was good to read this right before hitting Lhasa. Shows life here before the Chinese invasion, I mean "liberation."
Red China Blues, Jan Wong - Reading it now. Memoir of a Chinese Canadian college student who comes to Beijing as a hard core Maoist at the tale end of the Cultural Revolution. She then proceeds to have her idealism busted by the reality of life under Mr. and Mrs. Mao and the Gang of Four. Good history lesson. Really disturbing account of the Tianamen Square Massacre when she returns as a foreign correspondent.
Waiting, Ha Jin - I figured I had to read something that wasn't bashing China. Some kind of comedy novel set in modern China?
Glue, Irvine Welsh - He wrote Trainspotting, which was supposed to be great. But this book is longer and therefore better. The dialogue is all in Cockney English (phonetically spelled out) so we'll see.
Some trashy paperback I managed to wheedle out of a Dutch guy. One of the reviews says it "would make the perfect Tom Cruise movie." Um, is that a good thing or a bad thing?
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