I was feeling a bit tired in the last few weeks. I either caught a cold in Tiger Leaping Gorge or got hit with some bad allergies, but my head was stuffed and a bit foggy for a few days. And after that, I got a bit tired of travelling, but my spirits have turned during our journey to Macau. The weather definitely became tropical and it feels like a whole other country again, especially here in Macau with it's Portugeuse flair. I must say I underestimated Macau. I thought for sure that it would be some nasty version of Vegas (which I already find fairly nasty). But the gambling aspect is limited to a small section of town and there is a definite European quaintness to the region.
McTaro
So my next trip to McDonald's might not be just to determine the price of a Big Mac. I must admit I'm really intrigued by some new products that McDonald's has rolled out here in China. The first is their traditional deep fried pie, which comes in apple, pineapple and taro!!! Taro, people! The second is they've got this new burger and from what I can make out, instead of a regular bun you can get two deep fried rice patties instead. I kid you not. I am really quite curious about the taro pie that I'm almost willing to try it. Ugh! Torn between my curiousity and my staunch believe in not supporting something as evil as McDonalds. The moral dilemmas of a Californian. In their defense, they've got some of the cleanest bathrooms in all of China (which has clearly sucked me into some tempting waters). I haven't fallen yet, but I will let you know if I do.
Roger That!
So over the last few days I've found that I can understand people more and more and in Macau, it's definitely quite heavenly. I still don't quite trust my language skills entirely and I've definitely made a few mistakes here and there, but for what it's worth, most people understand me when I talk. The trouble is when they respond in a way I'm not expecting and yammer away in Cantonese and then all is lost. But it's nice to be able to ask basic questions and not feel like you've just got to suck it up. I can semi order, but I realize my vocabulary is lacking in the oddest places. For instance, Simon wanted a curry beef sandwich for lunch. I can say curry beef, but have no idea what's the word for sandwich in Chinese. We've always just said sandwich in my house.
Whitening Solutions
So we spent two days at Silver Beach in Behai. (FYI it's a decent beach with some pretty warm waters. It's not the nicest beach by any stretch, but if you're hankering for a bit of ocean and a stretch of sand while you're in China it will defintely do). And when we got there, there was no one lying on the sand, in fact people were only sitting in chairs at tables with umbrellas. My first reaction was that there might be something wrong with the sand or water(some locals did say, yes, it should be okay to swim there this time of year...). But after a few hours of being there, Simon realized it was because people didn't want to get tan.
So there is an appalling market being generated here in China for skin whitening products a la Michael Jackson. There are advertisements all over television for them and special displays in the supermarkets and stores. Drives me bananas. Especially when I just want some kind of plain lotion and half of the lotions have some kind of whitening brew mixed in.
Engaging Englishmen
So we just learned that an English couple, Curtis and Louise, that we did most of the Annapurna trek with in Nepal, got engaged at the Taj Mahal a few weeks ago. Curtis is now the second Englishman we know to have people the question at one of the seven wonders of the world. (Alan proposed to Janine at Macchu Pichu). What is it that inspires the English at the UNESCO sites? Well, I guess it doesn't matter if it works. Cheers!
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Southern China, Macau, then HK
Kunming
We spent three nights in Kunming, our last stop in Yunnan Province, and found it an altogether pleasant city. Nothing striking about it, just nice. Refreshing spring weather, hip university district, nice parks, clean and modern streets, people strolling along all through the evenings. Even the train station was amazingly orderly, a sharp contrast to the other stations we'd seen, which have been seething masses of humanity. If anything, maybe the city was TOO orderly and sterile - not so engaging. I did like the hipsters around the university campus, with their black clothes and pierced lips. The first edgy youths we'd encountered.
Nanning and the Beach
Nanning, further south in Guanxi Province, was decidedly more tropical. We stepped off the train into a steam bath. Very sweaty, reminded me of Manila.
On Saturday, our one day there, we had brunch at an "English corner," hoping to meet some locals. Most big cities in China have informal spots - English corners - where locals meet up to practice their English skills. In Nanning, an entrepreneurial restaurant owner has built his business around it: http://tinyurl.com/gtsol
Westerners get a discount, encouraging them to come by, sort of like Ladies' Night. Unfortunately, Nanning's English Corner is dominated by slightly skeezy older white men, some of whom seem just a little too fond of hanging out with perky Chinese girls. See here: http://tinyurl.com/rnrw9
Here's Kiki, one of the more friendly locals: http://tinyurl.com/lc498 She changed her English name from "ChiChi" when someone told her that breasts are sometimes called "chichis." You can't make this stuff up.
Spurning our free coupon for Sunday night's English Corner, we abandoned Nanning for Silver Beach in Behai, a small town of 550,000 people on the Gulf of Tonkin. (In China, 550,000 residents makes for a small town.)
The beach, while not spectacular, was a great break from the usual routine. We splurged on a $18/night beachside hotel room and spent most of the day playing cards under an umbrella. I also managed to pull my groin just tossing a frisbee with Jen, further evidence that I am offically old.
Culture $hock
We left Behai on a nine hour bus ride to Guangzhou, but only spent one night there before hopping another bus for Macau. While the China guidebook includes sections on Macau and HK, it's clear upon entry that these places are economically, socially, culturally, and politically a different animal from the mainland.
Both Macau and HK have a truly international feel that the mainland lacks. For example, all the signs in Macau are in Portugese and Chinese, and occasionally in English as well. I had been functionally illiterate for two months in China, and the Portugese - depressingly alien to me in Brazil - now seemed like an old friend. I marvelled at the ability to look at a store sign and recognize that the business sold auto parts.
As further evidence of their special status, counter-revolutionary propaganda runs rampant in Macau and HK. They both exist outside the Great Firewall, and for the first time in two months we could actually read our own blog and your comments. I was also surprised to hear a TV news piece about how HK reporters have difficulty working on mainland stories without freedom of the press in China.
Speaking of different economies, we suffered serious sticker shock upon arrival. Although the pataca and HK$ are roughly equivalent in value to the RMB, it's best, and probably more fair, to compare prices here to Western countries, rather than the mainland.
For example, we played at an ultimate tournament yesterday (more on that later), and the pre-tourney party had a HK$200 entrance fee. Sure it's an open bar and buffet, but for the equivalent in RMB, I could afford a day's worth of food and lodging. On the other hand, $25 is not too outrageous at home (Though I suspect many ultimate players would balk even at this price - ultimate players are cheap bastards after all). We also struggled to find food for less than HK$35-40 an entree. This amount of money would easily buy us three dishes and rice on the mainland. Anyway, we decided to stop bitching about prices and just enjoy ourselves for the few days we were in town.
In this spirit, in Macau, we splurged on a Portugese meal of lamb stew, salad, and bacalau casserole (cod fish). This in a tiny restaurant transplanted from Lisbon, with FC Benfica scarves adorning the wall and the salty owner hunched over a plate of stew, glass of red wine, and hunk of bread. The only clues to the restaurant's actual location were Chow Yun Fat's photo in the window, the old Portugese-speaking Chinese customer, and the all-Filipina wait staff.
As another attempt to blow (or, more optimistically, earn) cash, we walked into The Sands looking for a Hold 'Em game. We were simultaneously disappointed and relieved to only find Carribbean Stud.
Incidentally, although a huge portion of Macau and Hong Kong's service sector is imported from the Philippines, in the Sands Casino, not a pinoy in sight. Surprising, considering how many Filipino dealers work in Vegas. Sadly, I suspect blackjack dealer is too desirable a job for the Filipino immigrants to score. They're all domestics, security guards, laborers, and waitstaff.
Chunking Mansions
My Favorite Accommodation in China Thus Far Award goes to Chungking Mansions, Hong Kong. The scene is straight out of Blade Runner. This enormous building, with 15 floors and hundreds of tiny rooms, is carved up into dozens of guesthouses serving thousands of Western backpackers, African businessmen, South Asian immigrants, and Chinese families. It's the most diverse place I've ever seen. (The owner of the Internet cafe we frequented was a Filipina married to a punk Aussie.) More than just a backpacker stopover, it serves as long-term way station for immigrants. People live there for months in rooms the size of a modest American bathroom. I would not want to get caught in a Chungking Mansions fire. It's a disaster waiting to happen, really.
The first three floors are packed with laundromats, clothing shops, phone card salesmen, convenience stores, money exchangers, Western Union, and fast food stalls serving greasy international cuisine. (HK residents know Chungking Mansions as the dodgy place to get cheap Indian food.)
I particularly liked waiting in line for the incredibly slow elevator. You'd see Nigerians speaking Cantonese, Chinese moms scolding their children, and Pakistanis wheeling in a cart full of toilets. While you wait, you can observe the close circuit monitors above the elevators showing all the action within. This is presumably to keep people from being jacked.
Talk about density. Check out the view from our window. Despite these tight quarters, I got the feeling that people behaved themselves. Like they all agreed, "We're in this together and it doesn't do anyone any good to get into a drunken brawl in the stairwell." While waiting for the elevator, I watched a tense moment between a Pakistani and a Ghanian (with a Chinese security guard trying to mediate) end with a manly hug.
Red Wins!
In addition to getting our Chinese visas renewed, we stopped in HK to play at an ultimate frisbee hat tournament.* It's called a "hat tournament" because everyone's names are essentially pulled out of a hat to form various teams. So everybody plays with new people.
I won't mince words. In HK, Jen and I are Ultimate Gods. In my first three points in our first game, I scored three times. Jen is apparently one of the few women in HK with a consistent forehand and backhand. We wowed them. I know now why Eric Leven loves playing in New Zealand.
It's important to understand that back home, in the Bay Area, we are at best mediocre players that might get on a third tier co-ed team. Furthermore, we had come off 6 months of travelling with zero high-intensity exercise. Except for a couple of good ex-pats, there just aren't enough experienced players in the HK ultimate scene to make it very competitive. There are a few naturals (like the guy on my team who started playing ultimate with his church group), but they just haven't been playing long enough yet.
To illustrate, I had been playing for twice as long as all the women on my team combined (Jen was on another team). Admittedly, this may be more a function of my age. I think the oldest woman was 25.
Another example: On the entry form, where you rank yourself from 1-4 on various skills, #1 in the Disc Skills Category was "Never Played Before", #2 was "I Can Throw a Backhand, Sort Of", #3 was "I Can Throw a Backhand and Forehand Consistently", #4 was "I am an Ultimate God, and Can Throw Both Backhand and Forehand and All Kinds of Crazy Throws Like Hammers." The average crummy pick-up ultimate player in the Bay Area would rank a 3.5 on this scale.
Anyway, we managed to sandbag our personal rankings enough to stack our teams. Mine, the Red Team, won the tourney, my second tournament win ever. We now have great t-shirts that say Hong Kong Ultimate Players Assoclation (sic).
So the HK players want us to play with them in the Shanghai tourney on June 10-11. Honestly, though, they really just want Jen. Although I'm right up there skill-wise on their team, they already have 13 or 14 guys going. My addition would just make playing time more scarce for the real HK players.
Our Mental Health
I can't lie, we were down for a while, especially Jen. After a couple of months in China, all the big cities were beginning to look the same. The food ceased to be exciting. Traveling was routine, not engaging or even challenging anymore. We weren't homesick, really. Just burnt out of the same old same old. This sounds ridiculous, but there it is. We began to cook up schemes like "Stay in HK for a Month to Brush Up on My Cantonese" or "Teach English in Yangshuo." Anything to get out of the rut.
Fortunately, Macau and HK did a lot to change our outlook. Instantly, the international energy, entertainment options, the ability to speak the language (Jen's Toisanese, similar to Cantonese, finally became useful), the new food, the exercise and new friends at the tourney - all this revived us.
And now, with just over a month left, we have a lot to look forward to. Beijing (we arrived yesterday) has tons to do, as does Shanghai. We're psyched for more ultimate, hanging with friends in Shanghai, and seeing Yangshuo in Guanxi province, which is supposed to be gorgeous. There's also last minute shopping in HK. Gucci handbag, anyone?
* I just have to make a side comment that ultimate is amazing. We look up a tourney online, go to a strange city, and within 24 hours we're having drinks with a dozen new friends. It's incredible. Forget this Spirit of the Game crap. The drawing card should be "Ultimate: The World's Greatest Social Crutch."
We spent three nights in Kunming, our last stop in Yunnan Province, and found it an altogether pleasant city. Nothing striking about it, just nice. Refreshing spring weather, hip university district, nice parks, clean and modern streets, people strolling along all through the evenings. Even the train station was amazingly orderly, a sharp contrast to the other stations we'd seen, which have been seething masses of humanity. If anything, maybe the city was TOO orderly and sterile - not so engaging. I did like the hipsters around the university campus, with their black clothes and pierced lips. The first edgy youths we'd encountered.
Nanning and the Beach
Nanning, further south in Guanxi Province, was decidedly more tropical. We stepped off the train into a steam bath. Very sweaty, reminded me of Manila.
On Saturday, our one day there, we had brunch at an "English corner," hoping to meet some locals. Most big cities in China have informal spots - English corners - where locals meet up to practice their English skills. In Nanning, an entrepreneurial restaurant owner has built his business around it: http://tinyurl.com/gtsol
Westerners get a discount, encouraging them to come by, sort of like Ladies' Night. Unfortunately, Nanning's English Corner is dominated by slightly skeezy older white men, some of whom seem just a little too fond of hanging out with perky Chinese girls. See here: http://tinyurl.com/rnrw9
Here's Kiki, one of the more friendly locals: http://tinyurl.com/lc498 She changed her English name from "ChiChi" when someone told her that breasts are sometimes called "chichis." You can't make this stuff up.
Spurning our free coupon for Sunday night's English Corner, we abandoned Nanning for Silver Beach in Behai, a small town of 550,000 people on the Gulf of Tonkin. (In China, 550,000 residents makes for a small town.)
The beach, while not spectacular, was a great break from the usual routine. We splurged on a $18/night beachside hotel room and spent most of the day playing cards under an umbrella. I also managed to pull my groin just tossing a frisbee with Jen, further evidence that I am offically old.
Culture $hock
We left Behai on a nine hour bus ride to Guangzhou, but only spent one night there before hopping another bus for Macau. While the China guidebook includes sections on Macau and HK, it's clear upon entry that these places are economically, socially, culturally, and politically a different animal from the mainland.
Both Macau and HK have a truly international feel that the mainland lacks. For example, all the signs in Macau are in Portugese and Chinese, and occasionally in English as well. I had been functionally illiterate for two months in China, and the Portugese - depressingly alien to me in Brazil - now seemed like an old friend. I marvelled at the ability to look at a store sign and recognize that the business sold auto parts.
As further evidence of their special status, counter-revolutionary propaganda runs rampant in Macau and HK. They both exist outside the Great Firewall, and for the first time in two months we could actually read our own blog and your comments. I was also surprised to hear a TV news piece about how HK reporters have difficulty working on mainland stories without freedom of the press in China.
Speaking of different economies, we suffered serious sticker shock upon arrival. Although the pataca and HK$ are roughly equivalent in value to the RMB, it's best, and probably more fair, to compare prices here to Western countries, rather than the mainland.
For example, we played at an ultimate tournament yesterday (more on that later), and the pre-tourney party had a HK$200 entrance fee. Sure it's an open bar and buffet, but for the equivalent in RMB, I could afford a day's worth of food and lodging. On the other hand, $25 is not too outrageous at home (Though I suspect many ultimate players would balk even at this price - ultimate players are cheap bastards after all). We also struggled to find food for less than HK$35-40 an entree. This amount of money would easily buy us three dishes and rice on the mainland. Anyway, we decided to stop bitching about prices and just enjoy ourselves for the few days we were in town.
In this spirit, in Macau, we splurged on a Portugese meal of lamb stew, salad, and bacalau casserole (cod fish). This in a tiny restaurant transplanted from Lisbon, with FC Benfica scarves adorning the wall and the salty owner hunched over a plate of stew, glass of red wine, and hunk of bread. The only clues to the restaurant's actual location were Chow Yun Fat's photo in the window, the old Portugese-speaking Chinese customer, and the all-Filipina wait staff.
As another attempt to blow (or, more optimistically, earn) cash, we walked into The Sands looking for a Hold 'Em game. We were simultaneously disappointed and relieved to only find Carribbean Stud.
Incidentally, although a huge portion of Macau and Hong Kong's service sector is imported from the Philippines, in the Sands Casino, not a pinoy in sight. Surprising, considering how many Filipino dealers work in Vegas. Sadly, I suspect blackjack dealer is too desirable a job for the Filipino immigrants to score. They're all domestics, security guards, laborers, and waitstaff.
Chunking Mansions
My Favorite Accommodation in China Thus Far Award goes to Chungking Mansions, Hong Kong. The scene is straight out of Blade Runner. This enormous building, with 15 floors and hundreds of tiny rooms, is carved up into dozens of guesthouses serving thousands of Western backpackers, African businessmen, South Asian immigrants, and Chinese families. It's the most diverse place I've ever seen. (The owner of the Internet cafe we frequented was a Filipina married to a punk Aussie.) More than just a backpacker stopover, it serves as long-term way station for immigrants. People live there for months in rooms the size of a modest American bathroom. I would not want to get caught in a Chungking Mansions fire. It's a disaster waiting to happen, really.
The first three floors are packed with laundromats, clothing shops, phone card salesmen, convenience stores, money exchangers, Western Union, and fast food stalls serving greasy international cuisine. (HK residents know Chungking Mansions as the dodgy place to get cheap Indian food.)
I particularly liked waiting in line for the incredibly slow elevator. You'd see Nigerians speaking Cantonese, Chinese moms scolding their children, and Pakistanis wheeling in a cart full of toilets. While you wait, you can observe the close circuit monitors above the elevators showing all the action within. This is presumably to keep people from being jacked.
Talk about density. Check out the view from our window. Despite these tight quarters, I got the feeling that people behaved themselves. Like they all agreed, "We're in this together and it doesn't do anyone any good to get into a drunken brawl in the stairwell." While waiting for the elevator, I watched a tense moment between a Pakistani and a Ghanian (with a Chinese security guard trying to mediate) end with a manly hug.
Red Wins!
In addition to getting our Chinese visas renewed, we stopped in HK to play at an ultimate frisbee hat tournament.* It's called a "hat tournament" because everyone's names are essentially pulled out of a hat to form various teams. So everybody plays with new people.
I won't mince words. In HK, Jen and I are Ultimate Gods. In my first three points in our first game, I scored three times. Jen is apparently one of the few women in HK with a consistent forehand and backhand. We wowed them. I know now why Eric Leven loves playing in New Zealand.
It's important to understand that back home, in the Bay Area, we are at best mediocre players that might get on a third tier co-ed team. Furthermore, we had come off 6 months of travelling with zero high-intensity exercise. Except for a couple of good ex-pats, there just aren't enough experienced players in the HK ultimate scene to make it very competitive. There are a few naturals (like the guy on my team who started playing ultimate with his church group), but they just haven't been playing long enough yet.
To illustrate, I had been playing for twice as long as all the women on my team combined (Jen was on another team). Admittedly, this may be more a function of my age. I think the oldest woman was 25.
Another example: On the entry form, where you rank yourself from 1-4 on various skills, #1 in the Disc Skills Category was "Never Played Before", #2 was "I Can Throw a Backhand, Sort Of", #3 was "I Can Throw a Backhand and Forehand Consistently", #4 was "I am an Ultimate God, and Can Throw Both Backhand and Forehand and All Kinds of Crazy Throws Like Hammers." The average crummy pick-up ultimate player in the Bay Area would rank a 3.5 on this scale.
Anyway, we managed to sandbag our personal rankings enough to stack our teams. Mine, the Red Team, won the tourney, my second tournament win ever. We now have great t-shirts that say Hong Kong Ultimate Players Assoclation (sic).
So the HK players want us to play with them in the Shanghai tourney on June 10-11. Honestly, though, they really just want Jen. Although I'm right up there skill-wise on their team, they already have 13 or 14 guys going. My addition would just make playing time more scarce for the real HK players.
Our Mental Health
I can't lie, we were down for a while, especially Jen. After a couple of months in China, all the big cities were beginning to look the same. The food ceased to be exciting. Traveling was routine, not engaging or even challenging anymore. We weren't homesick, really. Just burnt out of the same old same old. This sounds ridiculous, but there it is. We began to cook up schemes like "Stay in HK for a Month to Brush Up on My Cantonese" or "Teach English in Yangshuo." Anything to get out of the rut.
Fortunately, Macau and HK did a lot to change our outlook. Instantly, the international energy, entertainment options, the ability to speak the language (Jen's Toisanese, similar to Cantonese, finally became useful), the new food, the exercise and new friends at the tourney - all this revived us.
And now, with just over a month left, we have a lot to look forward to. Beijing (we arrived yesterday) has tons to do, as does Shanghai. We're psyched for more ultimate, hanging with friends in Shanghai, and seeing Yangshuo in Guanxi province, which is supposed to be gorgeous. There's also last minute shopping in HK. Gucci handbag, anyone?
* I just have to make a side comment that ultimate is amazing. We look up a tourney online, go to a strange city, and within 24 hours we're having drinks with a dozen new friends. It's incredible. Forget this Spirit of the Game crap. The drawing card should be "Ultimate: The World's Greatest Social Crutch."
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Yunnan. No, YOU Nan!!
Loving Lijiang
Like I said, old town Lijiang was one of the most, if not THE most gorgeous cities we'd seen thus far. Sure, it's incredibly touristy. Enormous Chinese tour groups devotedly follow their flag bearer through the streets, and Westerners of all ages wander throughout town. The shops sell t-shirts, dubious antiques, and tacky art, and the restaurants, many of which offer Western food, charge notably higher prices. Naxi (a local Chinese minority group) culture has been commodified in a Disney-ish way, with young women in traditional costume luring passers-by into the bars. They also enthusiastically lead tourists in Naxi dances in the main square. Only the old women shuffling through the streets wear their Naxi clothes like they mean it, the shoulders of their sky blue tunics worn by years of rubbing basket straps.
None of this, however, distracts from old Lijiang's undeniable beauty. As we walked into town last Saturday night, I was overwhelmed by the polished cobblestone streets, maze of alleys, and goldfish swimming lazily in the canals throughout town. I loved the wooden houses with graceful sweeping eaves, the glowing red lanterns that are lit every evening, and the leafy trees hanging over stone bridges. A little over-restored, maybe, but still...
And it is possible to escape to the *old* old town. Away from the tourist center, the alleys grow quiet, women wash clothes in green pools, and the houses look more lived in, rough around the edges. The old town market clearly serves locals, selling fruits, vegetables, flashlights, rubber slippers, birds in cages, etc.
Crouching Tiger Hidden Leaping GorgeWe took three days to do a mini-trek in Tiger Leaping Gorge, just a couple of hours from Lijiang. One of the world’s deepest gorges, it towers 3900 meters from river to snow capped summit. Despite the gorge’s emerging popularity as a Chinese and Western tourist destination, the government plans to dam it and flood out thousands of people over upcoming years, a la Three Gorges. It’s insane, but speaks to the Chinese government’s continuing love affair with mega industrial projects.
On the hike, we lucked out with cool weather and great guest houses, including one run by the nicest Naxi family. We also had lunch at the guesthouse where Michael Palin (K-K-K-K-Ken from A Fish Called Wanda) stopped for a night and signed the guestbook. The guy has been haunting us since Nepal; just recently, he crossed Yunnan, Bhutan, Tibet, and Nepal filming his Himalaya travel show.
The views were pretty good, though I’ve become spoiled by the Himalayas and the Andes. It was still really nice to get active again. I suspect I’ve lost weight only because my already pathetic muscles have atrophied to nothing. We plan on playing in a Shanghai ultimate tourney in June. In our current state that promises to be an embarrassing experience. I’ll be the skinny guy retching on the sidelines.
Now in Dali
Dali, just four hours south of Lijiang, is something of a Yunnan Province Kho San Road. Amazingly, dope is widely available (a smiling middle-aged lady in traditional clothes just walked into the café and asked me if I wanted “smoke ganja”), and you can watch English movies while sipping a cappuccino on “Foreigner Street.” Competition among hotels is fierce, and we’ve been enjoying a huge suite (bedroom and living room – no bath) for $4/night. While we haven’t been particularly homesick, it’s nice to have some creature comforts, particularly since it’s been raining for 24 hours. We had just enough time yesterday morning to bike through the nearby towns and rice fields before the skies opened.
Yunnan Food
Hasn't been particularly notable, though we can get fresh veggies everywhere, a nice change from Xinjiang and Tibet. The appearance of Western food also lets us have yogurt, muesli, or oatmeal for breakfast, a healthy change from steamed pork buns, though twice as expensive. It’s about $1 for a bowl of oatmeal or $0.50 for eight buns.
In Lijiang, we ate in what the Lonely Planet calls one of the 10 Best Restaurants in China (admittedly a preposterous list). The Monkey Bar is this Taiwanese guy’s house, and every night he allows travelers to join his family for dinner. “You eat what we eat,” the little hand scrawled note in the window says. He used to do it for free, but started charging because he was getting mobs of up to 40 people.
For $1.50, you get up to six dishes of fresh home cooked food, and the blessed relief of not having to look at a menu when you sit down. He’s not in it to get rich, clearly. At that price and considering the breathless Lonely Planet write up, I don’t understand why there still aren’t dozens of guests every night. We had dinner there three times, and saw only one other couple. Sadly, only the man of the house speaks any English, and I think he’s grown a little tired of chatting with tourists over the years. His little girls have become similarly jaded, and manage to be both aloof and cute at the same time, turning their backs and frowning in the most surly yet adorable manner whenever someone wants to take a picture of them. By the third night, we’d become regulars of sorts, and they deigned to play with us. It’s a little funny having dinner with the family because they act like normal folks, not making any effort to pander to the guests. They don't really talk much amongst themselves, and unceremoniously get up from the table when done eating.
Kunming Tomorrow
We hop a hard sleeper south to Kunming tomorrow, headed towards Macau to get a new Chinese visa…
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Now in Regular China
Golden Week in Xi'an
Home of the Terracotta Warrior Army, Xi'an is one of China's top five tourist destinations. We arrived, unfortunately, at the start of the May holiday, when one billion Chinese takes a simultaneous week long vacation. This meant hordes of tourists, skyrocketing hotel rates, and scarce train berths.
Coming from the northwest, where tourists - Chinese or western - are relatively few and far between, we were overwhelmed by the packed streets, aggressive souvenir salesmen (see photo - this guy was about to bust a gut trying to sell me a crummy warrior replica, which probably wouldn't survive the bus ride back to town), and massive tour groups at all the tourist sites.
Xi'an's sheer urbanity also surprised us, country bumpkins that we are. At over 6 million people, Xi'an is three times the size of Urumqi, the largest city we'd seen in China. You can almost hear the money being printed, with high end shopping in downtown (Prada, Gucci, etc), luxury condos going up willy nilly, and massive new shopping malls under construction. We also saw our first McDonald's, one of several in town. Not a single storefront remains empty. Our first day in town, we just wandered around soaking in all the shiny retail and eateries. I can't help but think that this level of economic activity is unsustainable, and someone is headed towards a real estate precipice.
Part of the Masses
In the blazing heat, ee joined the Long March to all the standard tourist destinations. I won't bore you with the details, except to say that the Warriors are definitely worthwhile, but the other standard attractions can be misssed. (Riding around the city walls was actually fun, though uncomfortable on a tandem bike built for midgets.) We're getting particularly burnt out on temples, which Jen talks about.
I've realized that I have a limited attention span for museums and preserved old buildings. While I can appreciate historic architecture, I ultimately prefer places that remain in use, and offer a sense of how people live today. So for me, a park on Sunday afternoon can be more interesting than a 1000-year old temple. Revolution Park in Xi'an, for example, had a great pedal-powered roller coaster, tons of families and kids having picnics, and outdoor karaoke.
Gambling in Chengdu
We spent two nights in Chengdu, staying for the first time in a backpacker hostel. (Thus far, in China, we'd stayed in regular hotels.) Backpacker hostels are international oases of sorts, desgined to make western travelers feel at home. We walked into the lobby to the sounds of Brazilian music, and saw people in the common room watching King Kong on DVD. It could have been Cuzco, Peru.
While we decided to cram into a sweaty dorm room to save cash, we did enjoy hanging with other travelers for a change. We wiled away one evening learning to play mah jongg in a nearby teahouse with an automatic mah jongg table (teahouses and mah jongg are big in Chengdu). This amazing machine shuffles and stacks the tiles for you, which rise like ICBM missles from a hidden panel in the table.
We also rounded up a Korean, American, and Singaporean from New Zealand to play a couple of Texas Hold 'Em games, proof that it's become an international phenomenon. When I asked the Korean where he learned to play, he responded "World Poker Tour on TV." Of course. For the record, Jen and I each came in second in three tournaments, but generally didn't fare too well. Better than mah jongg, however, where the Singaporean guy took us to school. Sad considering our respective heritages, really. Mah jongg was my grandmother's life!
Sichuan Eats
Sichuan cooking is reknowned for its spice. Sure enough, our first night in town, Jen and I had two dishes - chicken fried with peanuts and tofu in chili sauce - which just about killed us. I was sweating profusely, tongue numb, and begging the surly waitress for more rice. Mmmmmm....numb tongue.
Panda Prostitution
Besides automatic mah jongg tables, Chengdu's other claim to fame is the Giant Panda Research Center. Here you can witness the Cutest Animal in the World (no, really, it's the cutest) chomping on bamboo and vigorously scratching its butt. These two activities, in addition to sleeping, make up most of the giant panda's day. I could have sat and watched these guys forever, they're just that charming. Everything they do is just full of cuteness. Look, there's one running! That one is climbing a tree! They think they're people!
The Research Center pimps out the animals for $400 yuan ($50), lining up tourists to take photos next to the pandas. To set up the shoot, the handlers entice a couple of pandas onto wooden couches, then continually shove bamboo into the pandas' paws to keep them sedentary. While the pandas kick it, Jabba the Hutt-style, the tourists come up behind them for the photo. You can even touch the pandas while posing. To their credit, the researchers give you plastic gloves to prevent STDs.
As in the human sex trade, baby pandas cost more. For a whopping 1200 yuan ($150) you can have a photo taken with a juvenile panda, which is pretty much the most adorable thing you have ever seen. Amazing, considering when they first pop out of the womb, they look like slimy blind hairless salamanders. Photos with red pandas -raccoon-like beasties, a respectable 7 on the cuteness scale (see photo) - cost a mere $6.* One wonders if they feel slighted by their discount status.
Following the tour, we sat in a comfy air-conditioned toom to watch a short documentary on the panda's breeding habits. Set to the music of Enya, the film featured black and white footage of giant pandas mating in dung-strewn jail cells. It looked like a porno shot with a convenience store security camera. Male and female wrestled awkwardly, bleating like sheep. Has anyone considered that the pandas would have more successful reproductive habits if the researchers offered them a nice hotel room or cozy bamboo grove? These iron bars would arouse only the most hardened criminals of the American penal system.
The film also showed drugged out pandas sprawled on metal operating tables as scientists probed at their nether regions. Again, the haunting chants of Enya did little to enhance the poor animal's dignity.
Now in Lijiang
We traveled non-stop via bus and train for 20 hours to get to Lijiang in Yunaan province last night. This is, without a doubt, the most gorgeous city we have seen on this trip. Salvador, Brazil and Luang Prabang, Laos can't compare to Lijiang's old town. More on this later.
* At the bottom of the cuteness scale, leeches, sea cucumbers, and maggots rank a 1. The average adult cow would come in at 5. The Giant Panda is a 10. The same animal can have different rankings at different points in its life. Hence, baby ducks come in at 7, but drops to 4 at adulthood.
Spoke Too Soon
As soon as I posted my most recent blog (Spring has Sprung), everything changed...
1 Day Spring
The temperature was temperate for about a day in Xi'an and then it blasted its way up past 80 degrees with a lot of humidity for the rest of the time. I definitely felt myself slogging in the heat and we found ourselves cutting through department stores to get a little bit of air conditioning. It was a bit cooler in Chengdu, but still not a lot of relief. But now that we're back near the Tibetan Plateau in Lijiang, Yunaan, it's a lovely spring again.
Hostel City
So now that we're in more popular tourist and backpacker areas, hostels have sprung up like May flowers. As dorm beds in hostels are about $2 a night per person, it's hard to justify getting a single room in a hotel any more. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted. It was fun to be in a hostel again with other travellers. And there are tons of Chinese students at these hostels, many of whom speak English. These guys are always amused to learn that I am an ABC (American Born Chinese).
20 hour bus/train rides
So yeah, we just had another 18 hour train ride. After actually looking at the train and bus routes and our deadline of making it to Hong Kong or Macau (autonomous regions of China where we can renew our visas) it looks like we may very well have to have a few more of those. Anyhoo...
Diminishing Marginal Pagoda Returns
Okay, after being in China and Tibet for over a month, I must say we're really pagoda and templed out. We were outside in the beatiful grounds of the Big Goose Pagoda in Xi'an and Simon and I were wavering about whether or not we should go in. I finally decided to go in since we were right there, while Simon watched the hordes of tourists outside. It was a lovely pagoda, but we've seen so many that they're starting to all blend together. (It's kind of like looking at churches in Europe). And I know this sounds terrible, but I think I would have rather spent the $3 entry fee on some pastries and some real drip coffee instead. From now on, I think we're gonna be a bit choosier about which temples we tour. But I'm still psyched for tombs, caves, forbidden palaces, etc. But I think I need to know there is something distintive about a temple before plunking down a few dollars to see it.
Dollars and Yuan
Okay, it may sound really stingy to not want to spend $3 to see some ancient pagoda, but it's a ton of money here in China. $3 is a big chinese lunch for two, a dorm bed for a night or 20 city bus rides for us. It goes a long way, so if you think about what we could be using it for, it's not insignificant.
Pandas! Pandas! Pandas!
So as you may have guessed, it was really refreshing to go to the Chengdu Panda Research Center and to see lots of pandas instead of going sighseeing at temples. I would certainly recommend the trip. It was super cool and also super odd (which is starting to be a theme here in China). Seeing the pandas was pretty awesome and they seemed pretty happy chowing down on bamboo about 2 meters away from us. However, this place is also a huge tourist destination, and tons of families come and in some ways it felt more like a zoo than a research institute. Tons of tourists taking flash photography and a few obnoxious hecklers trying to get their attention. To boot, you can pay about $50 to stand next to a seated panda and get your photo taken or $150 will let you hold a baby panda in your arms. I felt it was a bit inappropriate. We all know how sensitive pandas are, so why should they be subject to this? (I know, you don't have to tell me, because you've got people paying for it and running the center isn't cheap.) But I felt that some of the human harrassment could have been curtailed.
Another odd thing was the educational movie that they showed about the life span and mating process of pandas. Overall, it was pretty well done, and there was some amazing footage of a panda giving birth. However, some parts were a little disturbing. Like the mating scene, for instance. Obviously these large bears are in heat and getting fairly aggressive pushing, pawing and wresting with each another. I know they're animals and this perfectly normal behavior, etc. But the mating took place in these cages that really look like prison cells and all the footage was shot using some cheap handy cam with some really grainy footage and the date and time ticking off at the lower right hand corner. Honestly, it was bit disturbing. It felt more like a scene from Abu Garhib than anything scientific. Seeing footage of the pandas knocked out while they were artifically inseminated or having semen drawn was also a little bit disconcerting. But at the very end there was a lovely panda montage shown with the soothing sounds of Enya.
Sit Down DDR
Okay, this is random, but I find it so fascinating I have to report it. So the internet cafes here in China are huge. I mean they look more like college computer labs than cafes. In fact, some of these cafes are larger than any single computer lab we had at Smith while I was there. And there is a lot of DVD watching, game playing, web camming, texting and smoking going on. I can't help but notice the person next to me is playing a sit down version of DDR (Dance Dance Revolution) on her computer. Basically she needs to make characters on the screen move by pressing on the arrow keys while she smokes, instead of stepping on some kind of floor board. I remember explaining to a friend the concept of stand up DDR where kids at least get some kind of exercise while working on eye hand coordination. However, this sit-down version defeats the purpose entirely. Honestly, I think some game where I was blasting aliens or blowing up mummies would be much more interesting. But to each their own.
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