It's been really hard saying good-bye. I've met so many incredible people here. I've been shaped by a tremendous experience both good and bad. I have lost myself and pushed through adversities. I have discovered things about others but mostly I have discovered things about myself.
Rose cried when I met her at Starbucks during my last week.
"Don't cry," I begged, "I'll be back again someday."
"When you leave I won't have any friends," she said, "You're my only friend."
I was touched. To have made a difference in someone's life in a little less than a year was astounding. I didn't think I could create such an impression. I realized then that the Chinese do not forge friendships lightly and though they were a difficult culture for me to understand (as I'm sure mine was to them) we could still speak the language of genuine concern for each other.
The last time I saw Rose we went out to dinner. We didn't talk much about the departure. We just held on to the time we had as if nothing was happening. Believe it or not there was a sense of closure in not closing at all.
I went to a party then afterwards with the foreigners I met there. It was nice. We discussed our returns home (and for some their stays) and it was a beautiful send off.
"What will you do when you get home?" one asked.
"Eat the biggest burger I can find," I said.
We laughed.
The next day I was on the plane and greeted by familiar faces. Was there culture shock in my return? Strangely not The only weird occurrence was I had accidentally bumped into someone at the airport in Philadelphia who was Asian American and I apologized to him in Chinese and he gave me a strange look.
Other than that, well, it's good to be home.
The Heart of a Vagabond
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
4/22: Rose-colored Glasses
Rose and I only have 2 months more months to hangout. She's been a pretty popular trend on my Facebook with many of my friends looking forward to her insights on what she perceives is staple western culture and behavior. Often these are caricatures or exaggerations of western behavior but it's been fascinating to watch. Here are some of my favorite moments:
On how to fit in a dress:
"Today, I thought my boobs got smaller because I didn't have dinner last night and my dress was loose. Then when I got to Starbucks I realized I didn't zip up my dress [all the way]."
On dating:
Sorry I know it's supposed to be one quote a day but this is another classic brand new from Rose: "I'm not the kind of girl that likes just spending a man's money, but if he likes me then he should spend money."
On food waste:
Rose: "I was gonna order pigs brains but I think you don't like it."
Me: "Yeah again we don't really eat internal organs in America. It's not really a common, traditional thing. We just eat the muscle or the body of animals."
Rose: "The whole body is dead. Who cares? What difference does it make?"
Some of the situations I've been put in have been pretty crazy. Explaining the n-word and explaining what a "thick bitch" means in rap music.
Explaining why "other" black women seem bigger than I am.
Explaining western dietary habits.
Explaining gay culture in the states.
Indulging usually involuntarily in a huge photo album of constantly snapped Rose selfies.
In sharing these things, I realize how outsiders possibly view our country and customs. It's been nonetheless interesting.
What makes Rose different from other Chinese I've encountered, however, is her willingness to fully embrace everything western. While most Chinese are proud of their heritage and traditions and show a genuine curiosity and interest in western culture, Rose seems willing and ready to abandon these notions at the slightest gesture of excitement and adventure. The only thing that has held Rose back from throwing herself into fully pursuing going abroad seems to be her family, who struggle to embrace Rose's western attitudes and interests and want her rooted in traditional Chinese culture.
Rose usually talks about herself and her accomplishments in a way that shows deep insecurity. She revolves the topics around herself, rarely asking about me or what I'm doing or what I like.
Sometimes, it can be frustrating having conversations with her because she's unintentionally dismissive. For example, she may ask me a question about something but as I'm answering she will text someone on her phone and then fade to another topic altogether without acknowledging my answer. Sometimes, I'll try to talk about something I'm doing and she'll interject with a conversation topic about her job or her boyfriend totally irrelevant to what I'm speaking about. Or she'll just altogether ramble about something or drag me into something I've clearly expressed I have no interest in.
Most people would probably not bother to be friends with someone seemingly so self-absorbed but Rose does not realize her behavior as self-obsessive and she isn't completely apathetic. In addition to these behaviors, there are also many times she has been generous in various ways such as treating me to dinner whenever I was low on funds and even when I insisted on giving her repayment, she would never accept my money often saying "C'mon, we're friends. Don't worry about it."
She'll take me to local markets, shops, and places and explain things to me that are useful or stop me from doing something embarrassing and not culturally acceptable.
And she invites me and introduces me to new foreign friends.
Because of this she's been a valuable asset and a most-of-the-time pretty decent friend.
Currently, she's in a pretty crappy relationship with a German guy about 8 years her senior (36 yrs old) who treats her pretty disrespectfully. He's not abusive physically, but rather emotionally and slightly controlling. He tells Rose she needs to lose weight when she's perfectly healthy and thin. He tells her she can't hang out with male friends while he often hangs out by himself with female colleagues. He dictates when she should hang out and seems to get upset when she seems otherwise preoccupied. He also calls her a bitch if she whines about being treated unfairly. Recently, he went on a 4 day trip and didn't message Rose the entire time.
Rose has complained for the past 3 months about this relationship and much to my impatience as I often tell her the relationship is unhealthy and that she is holding onto it because she is fearful she will be alone.
In China, it is heavily looked down upon and bizarre to be in your 30's unmarried, single, with no kids and as Rose approaches 30 her mother has been in panic mode, often trying to set Rose up on blind dates with local Chinese guys who are often unattractive or lack common interests or ambition with Rose.
Rose, however, has finally settled on a German guy named Franky who raises nothing but red flags. In addition to the behaviors listed above they share no future interest or goals that are widely accepted in Chinese culture.
Franky does not believe in marriage. He has been in 2 long term relationship, one lasting 10 years before he left the woman and has not cited specific reasons why.
Franky rarely, if ever, pays for meals on dates despite having a much better job as a manager of some German company in which he does overseas work for.
Franky does not want kids. In fact, when Rose asked him what were to happen if she accidentally got pregnant she was met with silence.
Franky often flirts secretly with other women which Rose finds out about through colleagues and acquaintances who frequent at similar hangouts of Franky on nights he's not with Rose.
Franky only calls Rose over to his house, will never visit her's, and seemingly it only seems to be when he wants sex.
Franky doesn't use protection and cites the excuse that he "can't find condoms that fit." (Rose is not on the pill and due to public perception of promiscuous women or premarital sex, is too embarrassed to go to a doctor to ask for a prescription).
As a result, I haven't seen much of Rose unless her boyfriend heads to another area of China on business. And even then, she usually heads home early saying she has to work early in the morning.
I pointed these flaws all out to Rose time again about the fact they don't even share future goals that she ultimately looks forward to, mostly marriage and children. Her family has already stated their disappointment but their major concern stems from the distrust of Franky's foreign background and the stereotype that foreigners just impregnate Asian women and leave them. In this case, however, the stereotype would be uncannily true judging from Franky's statements and behaviors.
"Rose," I said, "I've had friends in terrible relationships. I can tell you this will not end well. I'm sorry if this makes you feel bad in anyway, but as your friend I have to be honest otherwise I wouldn't be a good friend if I let you get hurt."
"No, I thank you," she said, "I have a lot to think about."
I don't know if she will. Many times she's threaten to break up with him but as often happens with emotionally abusive relationships Franky will "cry" and make Rose feel bad for even thinking about it and she believes him and ignores all the bad.
So, I know if Rose seems a little self-absorbed it's really only because she has to constantly convince herself she''s important and worthwhile. It's for these reasons, I'm patient even though sometimes our interactions are frustrating because of their one-sidedness.
"I don't understand why he's with someone like me," she once said, "I mean I'm nothing, I'm just a teacher and he's a manager of a big company."
"It's not about your occupation that makes you worth something," I told her, "That's not how life works. You love what you do and you're good at it and you're bright and smart and outgoing. There are tons of terrible people who make more money."
"Making more money doesn't mean you're a better person or worth more."
Maybe, one day Rose will truly believe the words she once told me as we drove to a restaurant for lunch.
"Some people think I am a bitch. I don't know why. I'm not a bitch. It's okay. I know who I am. I'm confident in myself."
On how to fit in a dress:
"Today, I thought my boobs got smaller because I didn't have dinner last night and my dress was loose. Then when I got to Starbucks I realized I didn't zip up my dress [all the way]."
On dating:
Sorry I know it's supposed to be one quote a day but this is another classic brand new from Rose: "I'm not the kind of girl that likes just spending a man's money, but if he likes me then he should spend money."
On food waste:
Rose: "I was gonna order pigs brains but I think you don't like it."
Me: "Yeah again we don't really eat internal organs in America. It's not really a common, traditional thing. We just eat the muscle or the body of animals."
Rose: "The whole body is dead. Who cares? What difference does it make?"
Some of the situations I've been put in have been pretty crazy. Explaining the n-word and explaining what a "thick bitch" means in rap music.
Explaining why "other" black women seem bigger than I am.
Explaining western dietary habits.
Explaining gay culture in the states.
Indulging usually involuntarily in a huge photo album of constantly snapped Rose selfies.
In sharing these things, I realize how outsiders possibly view our country and customs. It's been nonetheless interesting.
What makes Rose different from other Chinese I've encountered, however, is her willingness to fully embrace everything western. While most Chinese are proud of their heritage and traditions and show a genuine curiosity and interest in western culture, Rose seems willing and ready to abandon these notions at the slightest gesture of excitement and adventure. The only thing that has held Rose back from throwing herself into fully pursuing going abroad seems to be her family, who struggle to embrace Rose's western attitudes and interests and want her rooted in traditional Chinese culture.
Rose usually talks about herself and her accomplishments in a way that shows deep insecurity. She revolves the topics around herself, rarely asking about me or what I'm doing or what I like.
Sometimes, it can be frustrating having conversations with her because she's unintentionally dismissive. For example, she may ask me a question about something but as I'm answering she will text someone on her phone and then fade to another topic altogether without acknowledging my answer. Sometimes, I'll try to talk about something I'm doing and she'll interject with a conversation topic about her job or her boyfriend totally irrelevant to what I'm speaking about. Or she'll just altogether ramble about something or drag me into something I've clearly expressed I have no interest in.
Most people would probably not bother to be friends with someone seemingly so self-absorbed but Rose does not realize her behavior as self-obsessive and she isn't completely apathetic. In addition to these behaviors, there are also many times she has been generous in various ways such as treating me to dinner whenever I was low on funds and even when I insisted on giving her repayment, she would never accept my money often saying "C'mon, we're friends. Don't worry about it."
She'll take me to local markets, shops, and places and explain things to me that are useful or stop me from doing something embarrassing and not culturally acceptable.
And she invites me and introduces me to new foreign friends.
Because of this she's been a valuable asset and a most-of-the-time pretty decent friend.
Currently, she's in a pretty crappy relationship with a German guy about 8 years her senior (36 yrs old) who treats her pretty disrespectfully. He's not abusive physically, but rather emotionally and slightly controlling. He tells Rose she needs to lose weight when she's perfectly healthy and thin. He tells her she can't hang out with male friends while he often hangs out by himself with female colleagues. He dictates when she should hang out and seems to get upset when she seems otherwise preoccupied. He also calls her a bitch if she whines about being treated unfairly. Recently, he went on a 4 day trip and didn't message Rose the entire time.
Rose has complained for the past 3 months about this relationship and much to my impatience as I often tell her the relationship is unhealthy and that she is holding onto it because she is fearful she will be alone.
In China, it is heavily looked down upon and bizarre to be in your 30's unmarried, single, with no kids and as Rose approaches 30 her mother has been in panic mode, often trying to set Rose up on blind dates with local Chinese guys who are often unattractive or lack common interests or ambition with Rose.
Rose, however, has finally settled on a German guy named Franky who raises nothing but red flags. In addition to the behaviors listed above they share no future interest or goals that are widely accepted in Chinese culture.
Franky does not believe in marriage. He has been in 2 long term relationship, one lasting 10 years before he left the woman and has not cited specific reasons why.
Franky rarely, if ever, pays for meals on dates despite having a much better job as a manager of some German company in which he does overseas work for.
Franky does not want kids. In fact, when Rose asked him what were to happen if she accidentally got pregnant she was met with silence.
Franky often flirts secretly with other women which Rose finds out about through colleagues and acquaintances who frequent at similar hangouts of Franky on nights he's not with Rose.
Franky only calls Rose over to his house, will never visit her's, and seemingly it only seems to be when he wants sex.
Franky doesn't use protection and cites the excuse that he "can't find condoms that fit." (Rose is not on the pill and due to public perception of promiscuous women or premarital sex, is too embarrassed to go to a doctor to ask for a prescription).
As a result, I haven't seen much of Rose unless her boyfriend heads to another area of China on business. And even then, she usually heads home early saying she has to work early in the morning.
I pointed these flaws all out to Rose time again about the fact they don't even share future goals that she ultimately looks forward to, mostly marriage and children. Her family has already stated their disappointment but their major concern stems from the distrust of Franky's foreign background and the stereotype that foreigners just impregnate Asian women and leave them. In this case, however, the stereotype would be uncannily true judging from Franky's statements and behaviors.
"Rose," I said, "I've had friends in terrible relationships. I can tell you this will not end well. I'm sorry if this makes you feel bad in anyway, but as your friend I have to be honest otherwise I wouldn't be a good friend if I let you get hurt."
"No, I thank you," she said, "I have a lot to think about."
I don't know if she will. Many times she's threaten to break up with him but as often happens with emotionally abusive relationships Franky will "cry" and make Rose feel bad for even thinking about it and she believes him and ignores all the bad.
So, I know if Rose seems a little self-absorbed it's really only because she has to constantly convince herself she''s important and worthwhile. It's for these reasons, I'm patient even though sometimes our interactions are frustrating because of their one-sidedness.
"I don't understand why he's with someone like me," she once said, "I mean I'm nothing, I'm just a teacher and he's a manager of a big company."
"It's not about your occupation that makes you worth something," I told her, "That's not how life works. You love what you do and you're good at it and you're bright and smart and outgoing. There are tons of terrible people who make more money."
"Making more money doesn't mean you're a better person or worth more."
Maybe, one day Rose will truly believe the words she once told me as we drove to a restaurant for lunch.
"Some people think I am a bitch. I don't know why. I'm not a bitch. It's okay. I know who I am. I'm confident in myself."
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
4/14-The Inspiration of Words
I entered a writing competition on Sunday. They always make me a tad nervous. I feel as though a thousand critics are deciphering every word and then judging if it's worthy of anyone's time.
Today, I read through the other contestants and honestly didn't feel a lot of them were good.
There are two types of writing when one is writing about a personal experience.
One who writes about what they see from own perspective.
And one who makes you see from their perspective.
When writing "I, I, I" in a story it can get rather redundant and so it's important to incorporate other types of views either from other people around you and their insights or from a 3rd person view.
For example:
"I saw a man walking down the street and he looked suspicious so I walked across the street to avoid him."
That's a explanatory sentence. And in my opinion, it's rather boring but a lot of people write this way.
Then there's:
A suspicious man dressed in black meandered down the street suspiciously. My heart thumped loudly in my chest as I nervously crossed the street to avoid him.
Now I've put it into a perspective where the reader can feel the tension and understand more about what's going on.
One of my self-admitted flaws as a writer is that sometimes I feel I use too much imagery though and the main point can get lost. But I think it's because I have a deep appreciation for a rather outdated art form of writing.
I recently started reading old classic books I never got a chance to read. I just finished read "A Heart of Darkness" and now I'm reading "Moby Dick."
Both are very different stories but I noticed with older books like that, authors had a way of being so vividly descriptive in everything because people didn't have electronics and access to the vast numbers of pictures and information and entertainment we do today. So in these instances, the words were the pictures.
Traditional Asian plays such as Chinese operas or Japanese Kabuki or even the English Shakespearean plays would take hours and hours of viewers times. But in an era of immediacy and instantaneous gratification, it becomes harder to enjoy longer forms of art as we pack our time with other things.
Regardless, one can still do this expertly. There are authors who are excellent at providing vivid images in short, terse sentences. I can only hope to deftly master such a skill in time.
Point being, the art of writing doesn't come from you writing about what you've done, seen or heard.
It comes from helping other people do, see and hear.
And that's how it should always be. The inspiration of words....
Today, I read through the other contestants and honestly didn't feel a lot of them were good.
There are two types of writing when one is writing about a personal experience.
One who writes about what they see from own perspective.
And one who makes you see from their perspective.
When writing "I, I, I" in a story it can get rather redundant and so it's important to incorporate other types of views either from other people around you and their insights or from a 3rd person view.
For example:
"I saw a man walking down the street and he looked suspicious so I walked across the street to avoid him."
That's a explanatory sentence. And in my opinion, it's rather boring but a lot of people write this way.
Then there's:
A suspicious man dressed in black meandered down the street suspiciously. My heart thumped loudly in my chest as I nervously crossed the street to avoid him.
Now I've put it into a perspective where the reader can feel the tension and understand more about what's going on.
One of my self-admitted flaws as a writer is that sometimes I feel I use too much imagery though and the main point can get lost. But I think it's because I have a deep appreciation for a rather outdated art form of writing.
I recently started reading old classic books I never got a chance to read. I just finished read "A Heart of Darkness" and now I'm reading "Moby Dick."
Both are very different stories but I noticed with older books like that, authors had a way of being so vividly descriptive in everything because people didn't have electronics and access to the vast numbers of pictures and information and entertainment we do today. So in these instances, the words were the pictures.
Traditional Asian plays such as Chinese operas or Japanese Kabuki or even the English Shakespearean plays would take hours and hours of viewers times. But in an era of immediacy and instantaneous gratification, it becomes harder to enjoy longer forms of art as we pack our time with other things.
Regardless, one can still do this expertly. There are authors who are excellent at providing vivid images in short, terse sentences. I can only hope to deftly master such a skill in time.
Point being, the art of writing doesn't come from you writing about what you've done, seen or heard.
It comes from helping other people do, see and hear.
And that's how it should always be. The inspiration of words....
Sunday, March 1, 2015
3/1-Lessons Learned, Hard Knocks Conquered
I'll be posting all of my pictures as I upload them by the tons probably onto Picasa or Flikr within the next few weeks and post a link somewhere here. I haven't decided which site yet.
I encountered so much culture and history during February and it was really exciting and totally made this experience of being in China much valuable. Even though a loose thread almost unraveled everything in the end of this vacation and even with adversities I encountered, the generosity, kindness and guidance of the local people was really touching.
Despite cultural differences and language barriers, the strength of human compassion and graciousness is perhaps the real story of behind this entire experience.
I've learned so much and learned to handle crazy difficulties in the face of solitude and with relying on often nothing but the help of kind strangers. It has been truly humbling, truly incredible.
And so, if I could leave you with one thing that has inspired me the most on this journey of mine thus far, I will leave you today with the words of the great late Maya Angelou:
“Love life. Engage in it. Give it all you've got. Love it with a passion, because life truly does give back, many times over, what you put into it.”
I encountered so much culture and history during February and it was really exciting and totally made this experience of being in China much valuable. Even though a loose thread almost unraveled everything in the end of this vacation and even with adversities I encountered, the generosity, kindness and guidance of the local people was really touching.
Despite cultural differences and language barriers, the strength of human compassion and graciousness is perhaps the real story of behind this entire experience.
I've learned so much and learned to handle crazy difficulties in the face of solitude and with relying on often nothing but the help of kind strangers. It has been truly humbling, truly incredible.
And so, if I could leave you with one thing that has inspired me the most on this journey of mine thus far, I will leave you today with the words of the great late Maya Angelou:
“Love life. Engage in it. Give it all you've got. Love it with a passion, because life truly does give back, many times over, what you put into it.”
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
2/23-The Great Wall Experience: Becoming a hero. And then Flight or Plight?
My 2nd day tour was with another tour agency and this one was also a group tour. I awoke around 7 this time. The woman heading the tour whose name was Helen had called me the night before to let me know the time the van would be stopping by. This time it looks like I would actually have a group for this group tour. I trusted it would be cold as it had been my entire stay here so threw on my blue and white hoodie, long johns, and jeans. i put on 2 layers of socks. I had gotten a message 2 days ago on WeChat from one of my Ameson program colleagues (the program who set us up in China) that he had been on the wall 2 days prior when it WAS snowing and mentioned how cold it was up there. When I got to the van, I was the first pick up and the day was bright and sunny and slightly chilly. I had a feeling I overdressed. The next two pick ups at the next hotel were an American couple from Hawaii. They were super outgoing and started talking to me immediately before boarding the bus.
I had never met anyone from Hawaii although I had a good friend and writing buddy move there several years ago. But the rumors of what I heard about their culture were true. Jay and Mia (as they introduced themselves to me) were super laidback individuals. They showed me pictures of their previous vacations on a reggae music cruise to Jamaica. They also shared pictures of their kids and their house in Hawaii from their iPad. They talked about how because it was so easy to live off the land, that drugs and homelessness were a huge issue although actual violent crime was low. They also told me how there were no longer ferries between the islands and that the airline companies had shut it down and raised their prices making it difficult to visit the other islands. They were from O'ahu.They had tons of stories about their life, took tons of photos even with me and were really fun throughout the whole trip.
On our tour were several Europeans. I should add I was in the front row of the van with Mia and Jay in the seat behind me. The next group was a French family, the parents escoreted their son and daughter to the very back of the van without any greeting whatsoever. Next was a young couple from Nepal, they also seated themselves in the back and finally a young German man in about his 20's who came by himself as well. He also seated himself in the back.
I pointed this out to Mia and Jay. "It's weird," I whispered, "how we just kind of ended up segregating ourselves by countries."
"Oh we'll change that soon enough," Mia said, "by the end of the trip we'll have them all mingled in."
Our first stop was the Ming tombs, the tombs of some of the emperors and empresses of the Ming Dynasty. Upon entering, it wasn't very impressive. There were mostly replicase of teh actual tombs and their items and people threw tons of money for good luck at the roped off areas as if they were a wishing well.
I thought this odd. There are many starving people all over the place, in China especially yet people would rather throw their money at relics and even copies of relics in hopes of a blessing rather than blessing the poor. I wonder who collected the money at the end of the day and where it really went. Then again, it probably could've honestly went into the donations bin of the place since the Chinese hold these things reverently to their hearts.
After that, unfortunately, this was another shopping tour. So we ended up at a Jade warehouse factory where they taught us how they made jade sculptures, different types of jade, the jade process and then of course walked us to a makeshift looking jewelry store upstairs with jade pieces and of course there was a special "discount" for the holidays. And of course, everything was overpriced. I walked around for about 10 minutes and feigned interest when suddenly my left knee went stiff as it often does in really bad weather but it baffled me because today was really warm. I had done a lot of walking all day yesterday for several hours matching Cherry's brisk pace as we ran through 4 large walking areas to view temples and squares. My legs were slightly stiff and numb this morning. I chalked my knee pain up to the strain of yesterday and the anticipation of the strain I would put on it today.
I wobbled over to a small cafe they had in the corner where I purchased a horrible coffee made from instant powder (their espresso machine was broken) and sat down at a table next to Helen and a few other tour group leaders who had also brought their tours in on the stop. I stretched my knee, massaging it and listened to them speak their native tongue while I glanced over at the other visitors who all seemed somewhat uncomfortable and uninterested in the jewelry before them but felt obliged to entertain the pushy salespeople that followed them all around asking occasionally if they saw something they liked. One lady had been following me but had given up after some time and then no one followed me. I was grateful for that.
After about 20-30 minutes, the van started up again and we all exited. No one, as I had predicted, had purchased anything. "That guy said he paid $300 for his private tour," Mia said, nodding over to a tall grey haired man who I had seen earlier walking by himself.
"Wait, what? For where?"
"Same place we're going," she said, "The Great Wall."
I had paid about $40 for this group tour. "That's terrible," I said, "I was so fearful of getting scammed. I kept checking the reviews for every place especially ones with shopping stops like this."
"I know," she said, "I was expecting the shopping stops and I wanted to be careful cuz I heard some horror stories."
I agreed.
We entered the van and headed out to the Great Wall which would be the greatest adventure yet.
*****************************************************************************
We arrived at a small restaurant off the road leading to the Great Wall site for lunch and we were served large plates of rice and various meats and vegetables that were placed on our table. The table was wooden and round but had a glass platform on top of it that spun around so everyone could turn it to get to the dish they wanted and take what they wanted for their own individual plates. The food was traditional Chinese food but good and we all consumed the food rather quickly with little conversation. It turned out the French family didn't know much english. I had heard the mother in the back of the van translating some of the things Helen was saying as she gave us brief histories on various things before we got to a stop. Her son looked to be about 9 or 10. The daughter in her pre-teens or early teens.
The French were on my right, the young Italian couple on my left. Mia and Jay sat across from me and Jan, the German right next to me on the left.
Jan, near the end of the Ming tomb trip, had broken a little bit away from the other Europeans and started following me and the Hawaiians around, quietly laughing and smiling at Mia and Jay's jokes and their stories.
We all gathered to meet downstairs and the van drove us a little way further before stopping at the foot of a rather steep incline on the road. We had to get out and walk a little way up this road and then the pavement started to become cobbled as we continued. The Great Wall came into view far up on a mountain. I had a terrible fear of heights and wondered exactly what methods were used to get up there. I panicked.
When I had booked the trip I had saw that a cable car was an optional way of getting up the wall. I inquired with the agency if this was the only way to go up the wall and they informed me no, I could choose to walk it. Frankie, my program colleague who had attended the wall during danger conditions two days prior, had messaged me saying his tour agency had told him it was optional too but in the end everyone was forced to go. Helen, however, assured me that I wouldn't be forced but that it would be significantly quicker and easier.
"It's much easier to take the cable car," she said, "but you can walk however it is very hard. Even most locals cannot do it."
She pointed out ahead and indeed there was a road that lead to the wall off to the side full of steep stairs and an even steeper incline. The 5 minute walk we had endured to get to this point was quite difficult. I couldn't imagine a steeper incline. My feet were already at a ridiculously tilted angle.
I begrudgingly accepted the cable car ride.
Half of our crew decided to take an open toboggan to the wall. The idea alone made me shudder. So the Hawaiians and the Italian couples went to take the toboggan. Me, the French family, Helen and Jan decided on the cable cars. When we got there, I ended up with the French family and Helen. Jan ended up in the cable car behind us. Helen said she would hold my hand. She kept rubbing my back telling me it would be okay. I was thankful for her trying to comfort me as we boarded the car. Initially I was seated on the end but the French woman saw I was a tad bit nervous and switched with me so that I was in the middle between her and her son shielded from the window. Helen grabbed my hand and I closed my eyes. The ride lasted about 3 minutes and Helen rubbed my hand and reassured me along the way but I felt little snags and the car sway occasionally when it hit the propulsion gears on the wire which made me nervous.
We finally got up top to the wall.
Helen split me up with Jan and the Fench family went on their own. Those on that had ridden the toboggan were on the other side of the wall on a part that I found out later was much less steeper which was probably safer in hindsight considering the Hawaiians were heavy-set.
"Stay with her," she said, "Make sure she's okay." I was a bit embarrassed. I had known the wall was going to be high and I was okay with that but I thought I could take things at my own pace and not have to hold anyone back. But it made sense to break up in groups to keep better time control.
"It will be okay!" Helen smiled, "Our great Chairman Mao said, 'When you climb the Great Wall, you become a hero' so today you are a hero! You are here!"
Jan (pronounced Yahn by the way) and I started to walk, heading left at the entrance. The day was beautiful and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, however, there were still small patches of snow or ice where the snow had melted in shady areas along the wall. There were steep stairs to small towers along the way, some so steep people were crawling on hands and knees so not to fall. Surely, the Chairman must've climbed this wall to claim his heroism in his heyday.
I started to at this point realize I had on way too many layers of clothing as it had gotten considerably warmer in the early afternoon and the physical exertion of walking the wall alone proved to be more of a trial than anticipated. Jan was shy as was I so our conversation was awkward at first. He was a tall, thin guy about 24 or 25. He was very thin, had sandy blonde hair, a long pointed Roman nose and small, tiny blue eyes. He worked for a car parts supply company and was here in Beijing for a month on business. We talked a little bit about random things, mostly why were in China, things we liked about it, things about home. We had been walkijng for about 15 minutes and took turns helping each other take pictures at certain locations.
Jan was walking much faster than I was and didn't seemed perturbed or overly cautious about the icy patches which he walked over with seemingly little trouble. I saw an old lady with really cool pink sneakers.
"I like your sneakers!" I said, pointing to her shoes and giving her the thumbs up. I didn't know the word for shoes so I said the sentence english exaggerating my gestures so she would understand. A young Chinese man, perhaps a family member, who understood english walked up to her and translated. The woman smiled and asked me a question I didn't understand.
"She asked if she could take a picture with you," the young man with her said.
"Oh sure." I had gotten used to such requests. I posed next to her for a picture and we thanked each other as I headed back to where Jan was waiting.
"Sorry," I said, "that happens quite a bit to me here."
"No problem," Jan smiled.
"So is there an end game here?" I said asking if there was a certain point we should stop and turn around. We had to meet everybody at half past 2 back at the van. It was around noon now.
"Oh, I wanted to get up to that tower," he said and he pointed to the peak of the nearest visible mountain top that looked about a few miles out.
"Oh," he replied shyly, "you're so welcome. No problem at all, really."
I had never met anyone from Hawaii although I had a good friend and writing buddy move there several years ago. But the rumors of what I heard about their culture were true. Jay and Mia (as they introduced themselves to me) were super laidback individuals. They showed me pictures of their previous vacations on a reggae music cruise to Jamaica. They also shared pictures of their kids and their house in Hawaii from their iPad. They talked about how because it was so easy to live off the land, that drugs and homelessness were a huge issue although actual violent crime was low. They also told me how there were no longer ferries between the islands and that the airline companies had shut it down and raised their prices making it difficult to visit the other islands. They were from O'ahu.They had tons of stories about their life, took tons of photos even with me and were really fun throughout the whole trip.
On our tour were several Europeans. I should add I was in the front row of the van with Mia and Jay in the seat behind me. The next group was a French family, the parents escoreted their son and daughter to the very back of the van without any greeting whatsoever. Next was a young couple from Nepal, they also seated themselves in the back and finally a young German man in about his 20's who came by himself as well. He also seated himself in the back.
I pointed this out to Mia and Jay. "It's weird," I whispered, "how we just kind of ended up segregating ourselves by countries."
"Oh we'll change that soon enough," Mia said, "by the end of the trip we'll have them all mingled in."
Our first stop was the Ming tombs, the tombs of some of the emperors and empresses of the Ming Dynasty. Upon entering, it wasn't very impressive. There were mostly replicase of teh actual tombs and their items and people threw tons of money for good luck at the roped off areas as if they were a wishing well.
I thought this odd. There are many starving people all over the place, in China especially yet people would rather throw their money at relics and even copies of relics in hopes of a blessing rather than blessing the poor. I wonder who collected the money at the end of the day and where it really went. Then again, it probably could've honestly went into the donations bin of the place since the Chinese hold these things reverently to their hearts.
After that, unfortunately, this was another shopping tour. So we ended up at a Jade warehouse factory where they taught us how they made jade sculptures, different types of jade, the jade process and then of course walked us to a makeshift looking jewelry store upstairs with jade pieces and of course there was a special "discount" for the holidays. And of course, everything was overpriced. I walked around for about 10 minutes and feigned interest when suddenly my left knee went stiff as it often does in really bad weather but it baffled me because today was really warm. I had done a lot of walking all day yesterday for several hours matching Cherry's brisk pace as we ran through 4 large walking areas to view temples and squares. My legs were slightly stiff and numb this morning. I chalked my knee pain up to the strain of yesterday and the anticipation of the strain I would put on it today.
I wobbled over to a small cafe they had in the corner where I purchased a horrible coffee made from instant powder (their espresso machine was broken) and sat down at a table next to Helen and a few other tour group leaders who had also brought their tours in on the stop. I stretched my knee, massaging it and listened to them speak their native tongue while I glanced over at the other visitors who all seemed somewhat uncomfortable and uninterested in the jewelry before them but felt obliged to entertain the pushy salespeople that followed them all around asking occasionally if they saw something they liked. One lady had been following me but had given up after some time and then no one followed me. I was grateful for that.
After about 20-30 minutes, the van started up again and we all exited. No one, as I had predicted, had purchased anything. "That guy said he paid $300 for his private tour," Mia said, nodding over to a tall grey haired man who I had seen earlier walking by himself.
"Wait, what? For where?"
"Same place we're going," she said, "The Great Wall."
I had paid about $40 for this group tour. "That's terrible," I said, "I was so fearful of getting scammed. I kept checking the reviews for every place especially ones with shopping stops like this."
"I know," she said, "I was expecting the shopping stops and I wanted to be careful cuz I heard some horror stories."
I agreed.
We entered the van and headed out to the Great Wall which would be the greatest adventure yet.
*****************************************************************************
We arrived at a small restaurant off the road leading to the Great Wall site for lunch and we were served large plates of rice and various meats and vegetables that were placed on our table. The table was wooden and round but had a glass platform on top of it that spun around so everyone could turn it to get to the dish they wanted and take what they wanted for their own individual plates. The food was traditional Chinese food but good and we all consumed the food rather quickly with little conversation. It turned out the French family didn't know much english. I had heard the mother in the back of the van translating some of the things Helen was saying as she gave us brief histories on various things before we got to a stop. Her son looked to be about 9 or 10. The daughter in her pre-teens or early teens.
The French were on my right, the young Italian couple on my left. Mia and Jay sat across from me and Jan, the German right next to me on the left.
Jan, near the end of the Ming tomb trip, had broken a little bit away from the other Europeans and started following me and the Hawaiians around, quietly laughing and smiling at Mia and Jay's jokes and their stories.
We all gathered to meet downstairs and the van drove us a little way further before stopping at the foot of a rather steep incline on the road. We had to get out and walk a little way up this road and then the pavement started to become cobbled as we continued. The Great Wall came into view far up on a mountain. I had a terrible fear of heights and wondered exactly what methods were used to get up there. I panicked.
When I had booked the trip I had saw that a cable car was an optional way of getting up the wall. I inquired with the agency if this was the only way to go up the wall and they informed me no, I could choose to walk it. Frankie, my program colleague who had attended the wall during danger conditions two days prior, had messaged me saying his tour agency had told him it was optional too but in the end everyone was forced to go. Helen, however, assured me that I wouldn't be forced but that it would be significantly quicker and easier.
"It's much easier to take the cable car," she said, "but you can walk however it is very hard. Even most locals cannot do it."
She pointed out ahead and indeed there was a road that lead to the wall off to the side full of steep stairs and an even steeper incline. The 5 minute walk we had endured to get to this point was quite difficult. I couldn't imagine a steeper incline. My feet were already at a ridiculously tilted angle.
I begrudgingly accepted the cable car ride.
Half of our crew decided to take an open toboggan to the wall. The idea alone made me shudder. So the Hawaiians and the Italian couples went to take the toboggan. Me, the French family, Helen and Jan decided on the cable cars. When we got there, I ended up with the French family and Helen. Jan ended up in the cable car behind us. Helen said she would hold my hand. She kept rubbing my back telling me it would be okay. I was thankful for her trying to comfort me as we boarded the car. Initially I was seated on the end but the French woman saw I was a tad bit nervous and switched with me so that I was in the middle between her and her son shielded from the window. Helen grabbed my hand and I closed my eyes. The ride lasted about 3 minutes and Helen rubbed my hand and reassured me along the way but I felt little snags and the car sway occasionally when it hit the propulsion gears on the wire which made me nervous.
We finally got up top to the wall.
Helen split me up with Jan and the Fench family went on their own. Those on that had ridden the toboggan were on the other side of the wall on a part that I found out later was much less steeper which was probably safer in hindsight considering the Hawaiians were heavy-set.
"Stay with her," she said, "Make sure she's okay." I was a bit embarrassed. I had known the wall was going to be high and I was okay with that but I thought I could take things at my own pace and not have to hold anyone back. But it made sense to break up in groups to keep better time control.
"It will be okay!" Helen smiled, "Our great Chairman Mao said, 'When you climb the Great Wall, you become a hero' so today you are a hero! You are here!"
Jan (pronounced Yahn by the way) and I started to walk, heading left at the entrance. The day was beautiful and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, however, there were still small patches of snow or ice where the snow had melted in shady areas along the wall. There were steep stairs to small towers along the way, some so steep people were crawling on hands and knees so not to fall. Surely, the Chairman must've climbed this wall to claim his heroism in his heyday.
I started to at this point realize I had on way too many layers of clothing as it had gotten considerably warmer in the early afternoon and the physical exertion of walking the wall alone proved to be more of a trial than anticipated. Jan was shy as was I so our conversation was awkward at first. He was a tall, thin guy about 24 or 25. He was very thin, had sandy blonde hair, a long pointed Roman nose and small, tiny blue eyes. He worked for a car parts supply company and was here in Beijing for a month on business. We talked a little bit about random things, mostly why were in China, things we liked about it, things about home. We had been walkijng for about 15 minutes and took turns helping each other take pictures at certain locations.
Jan was walking much faster than I was and didn't seemed perturbed or overly cautious about the icy patches which he walked over with seemingly little trouble. I saw an old lady with really cool pink sneakers.
"I like your sneakers!" I said, pointing to her shoes and giving her the thumbs up. I didn't know the word for shoes so I said the sentence english exaggerating my gestures so she would understand. A young Chinese man, perhaps a family member, who understood english walked up to her and translated. The woman smiled and asked me a question I didn't understand.
"She asked if she could take a picture with you," the young man with her said.
"Oh sure." I had gotten used to such requests. I posed next to her for a picture and we thanked each other as I headed back to where Jan was waiting.
"Sorry," I said, "that happens quite a bit to me here."
"No problem," Jan smiled.
"So is there an end game here?" I said asking if there was a certain point we should stop and turn around. We had to meet everybody at half past 2 back at the van. It was around noon now.
"Oh, I wanted to get up to that tower," he said and he pointed to the peak of the nearest visible mountain top that looked about a few miles out.
Where the wall first comes to a small triangular point over that first hill in the distance is where we stopped
I looked to wear he was pointing. Silently, I sighed heavily in my mind. Okay, I muttered.
"You sure?" he asked, looking at me with slight shock and concern.
"I might have to walk slower than you," I said between my fear of heights and my bad knee and the fact there was snow on the ground that I was cautious of, "but I don't want to hinder your first experience on the wall due to my own fears. So I'll try and do my best."
This seemed satisfying enough to him. He was kind and kept asking me occasionally if I was okay. We stopped about 3 times for me to rest and get a drink of water because the inclines were intense.He slowed down his pace. A couple of the towers we steep and people were climbing on hands and knees even the natives. The wall is divided by areas and we were at the Matianyu part which was supposed to be the easiest part to walk, more nature-y and the least crowded. Juyongguang is the more popular area, though I can't recall the reasons why but if Matianyu was the easiest one to walk then I'm grateful we didn't end up on a more difficult walk. We came inside a small stone area that was held up with towers, some kind of hall or storage area it seemed but there was a metal, grated ladder that led back up to the wall. It was wet and slippery and dirty and people had to slowly go up and down it.
Great.
But that wasn't the best part. We got up the ladder and before us were a long, long great set of stares with different steepness, different lengths, different textures that awaited us to get to the tower area.
I should fully disclose something here that might annoy some of you.
I am not a person who has ever set foot at a gym. I don't work out. I don't exactly diet. I've never had to watch my weight. I've been one of those annoying people with naturally good muscle tone and who is just naturally fit. But I'm used to walking long distances. I used to run....about 10 years ago. I took a judo class in college about 2 years ago as a gym credit and the two strongest students in my class, I brag not, was a big, tall husky blonde girl...and me. We sparred a few times and neither of us managed to defeat the other. Doing things that physically challenge me don't usually bother me.
But the Great Wall is a test of every aspect of your mind and body possible. Let me put it this way, there were locals who were also taking frequent rests, crawling in certain steep areas, sweating and busting their butts to walk along the wall. Jan was like a freaking robot or something. I was beginning to think he might be a cyborg. He wasn't winded, or sweating, he didn't take any drinks of water and his tall, thin legs glided easily along the stairs. I was dealing with something beyond human. Still, I pushed myself. But at one point, I had to really stop. I felt my heart rate exceed what was bell beyond normal. I was sweating and short of breath and I was wearing a hoodie and a pea coat and a knitted hat (which I took off). I had nowhere to put my extra clothing and holding it wasn't an option since some of the areas required literally using your hands to get to. Jan was dressed in a hoodie and jeans, perfect attire for a day in the mid 50's with lots of physical activity planned.
Of course, the one day I didn't check the weather is the day it mattered most.
I stopped about 5 times on the stairs, opening my coat and taking deep breaths to slow my heart rate down. This is dangerous,I thought, I have to take it easy. I'm going to have to slow down more for my own sake or this could get serious.
Jan walked his same brisk pace, but he was patient and didn't complain even when I stopped to rest. He would go a bit ahead and wait patiently. If he was annoyed in anyway, he didn't show it at all which I was grateful for because I felt terrible having to hold anyone back. The stairs took about a long 10 to 15 minutes to conquer, the last bit was really, really steep stairs up to the tower. You had to use hands and feet to do it. Some elderly, who were also along the wall, were climbing slowly up and people were very patient waiting for people to go up or down. We had caught up with the French family along the stairs and had passed them but their youngest, the son, had went on ahead. We got to the top of the tower and it was absolutely breathtaking. Jan finally seemed a bit winded. We rested a bit and then he and I walked along the wall to oversee the mountains.
Tower selfie
There were quite a few people gathered here and a woman with a small table was selling souvenirs and water. I had brought two bottles of water with me. The French woman took photos of her family then Jan offered to take a photo with her in it for them. She came to the table and bought 4 Great Wall tourist books for 100 yuan a piece which was outrageous and she didn't haggle the woman. I eyed a simple black cap that said The Great Wall on it and inquired the price. 90 yuan. I was near the end of my spendable money, having to use 100 yuan on the cable car had put me well out of budget. I feared I wouldn't have enough for cab fare back to the airport and then cab fare back home. So I declined. The woman chased me then. How much did I want to pay, she asked in broken english. I told her I had 20 yuan. She took it and handed me the hat.
I laughed. I wondered if I could've gotten lower. Upon closer inspection the stitching was pretty shoddy but it was nice. It was nowhere near worth 90.
Jan asked me to help him take a photo using his iPad then he helped me take a photo and we took a few selfies. The French left before us. After about 15 minutes we realized we had to start heading back. Downstairs would be faster than upstairs for sure, I thought. But I was wrong. Halfway down the long stairs leaving the tower, my left knee locked up again. I had to move even slower. A couple of young Chinese girls told me to take the steps sideways and one at a time which helped but was obviously a slower way of going down. And of course, Jan walked down like it wasn't a problem as normal. No one else was doing it that way. Almost everyone was taking the sideway method. Now I was convinced he was a cyborg. Once we got down those steps it was easier to walk down everything else. The strain on my knee had to be careful as going down actually had more impact than up, Jan explained to me. We got to the van about 15 minutes late as I had texted Helen along the way we would be late. As we neared the bus, I thanked Jan for both his patience and for guiding me along.
As
a person who is extremely afraid of heights and doesn't even like
standing on a chair to fix a bulb or get to a shelf let alone flying or
walking up a mountain, I was proud that I overcame an incredible fear.
I ended up riding a cable car to the wall where I ended up partnering with a patient but determined young German guy. I stumbled
painfully along huffing and puffing up greatly steep hills and uneven,
crumbly, shifty stone stairs lightly spotted with leftover snow. He
wanted to go up to the high point of a mountain and my not wanting to slow down someone else or dampen their
first Beijing experience proved to be my motivation and determination
to try keep up and conquer a fear of heights that has gripped me all my
life. Forty-five minutes later, we had made it. It was all worth it. But I seriously need Tylenol for the muscle pains of two days walking through all these
attractions.
"You actually really made this trip for me," I said, "As a person who is afraid of heights and has this knee problem, I don't think I would've ever pushed myself that far but the experience was so worth it, so thank you."
"Oh," he replied shyly, "you're so welcome. No problem at all, really."
The French family, however, was nowhere to be seen. Jan and I said they left before us.
"I'm glad we weren't the last ones then, I thought we would be." Jan said to me.
"Me, too." I said.
My legs were stiff, my knee sore and I was wiped. I had only wished I had a pedometer to see how many miles I walked this trip alone. Everyone seemed exhausted. The Hawaiians talked about how crazy fun and scary the toboggan was and how everyone was reacting to difficult parts of their side of the wall.
I told them about the steepness we encountered on our side.
"Oh I saw [the hills]," Mia said, "and that's why I said 'nope!' I would've died."
Everyone was generally quiet and tired along most of the trip taking a nap. I myself drifted off during the nearly 1 hour long ride back to our hotels. I had booked going to a traditional Chinese opera later that night so I was quite exhausted and not sure how up to it I would be.
We were soon to realize, however, there was one more shopping stop. A tea place called Dr. Tea.
I had been to a tea house before in Shanghai during my teacher initiation/orientation and this one wasn't much difference.
They sat us in an area and they showed us different types of tea and gave us tasting samples and told us what each tea was known to cure or heal or help.
Then they made their pitch and of course there was a "special holiday discount." The tea was actually affordable though although I'm sure the quality was questionable and the French woman bought a few packs as did I believe the Italian couple. Me and the Hawaiians remained quiet as did Jan. I was curious in a loose-leaf tea thermos. Almost everywhere I went there had been stations for hot water. The trains, the train stations, the school, the airports. I had one but the seal was poor and it often leaked. They were selling it for 150 yuan and I had seen them for about that price or more and much smaller. I didn't have a whole lot of money left. I ended up being persuaded and purchased it and right after when we got back to the van I thought about what money I had left and realized...I had went over budget. I had to think of a way now to get cab fare but I decided to think of a solution later. I'm not sure if it was the exhaustion of the trip that added to my miscalculation but I was too tired to think further upon it. Helen asked if anyone wanted to stop by at a famous marketplace and we all declined. She told us she had to take the train home at the next stop and the driver would get us all back to our respective hotels. As we headed back, Mia and I talked about China and our experience so far. We talked about crazy fights and unusual circumstances that occurred and how we had to exercise caution as foreigners seeing situations that would normally call for assistance or police intervention but that wasn't the norm in China. I told her about how my first week in Shanghai I saw a woman get punched by her husband in a subway station as a police officer walked by.
"I mean it's crazy here," she said, "You can't just do things. It's China. It's a communist......country" she drifted off as my eyes got wide.
Mia was quite boisterously loud when having a conversation and she was sitting in the set behind Helen. As she mentioned communism condescendingly, I immediately tried to shush her and my eyes darted to Helen who didn't turn around. Mia's eyes followed mine and realizing how it came off, she quickly changed topic.
I was slightly embarrassed. Here we were enjoying a country and its beautiful history and its beautiful sights. It's true the government was slightly oppressive and civil rights weren't in abundance, but to mock it openly in front of the natives made me uncomfortable and made me feel bad.
Since my arrival, I've had many natives come up to me saying, "Why would you come to China?" almost incredulous as to why I would leave a country like America to come here. They would mention air pollution and other problems almost ashamedly and I would always to respond with the positive aspects I loved about their country. This would result in them smiling and often befriending me wanting to exchange contact information. I didn't want to be the person to step on someone's soil and although I acknowledge there were flaws it wasn't my place to flaunt them to the people here while I was employed by their school systems, paid by them and generally treated with respect.
We were dropped off to our individual hotels and I was the 2nd to last stop. The only remaining people were Mia and Jay. I shook their hands and we said goodbye. They were only touring for a little bit and were waiting for Mia's sister to join them then they were heading back to Hawaii.
I waited about an hour before another car got me for the opera. I freshened up with a hot shower and put on lighter clothes. The opera was in a small stage area in a luxury hotel and it was a set of about 3-4 scenes from popular traditional Chinese operas (these are often very, very long productions so this was more of a taste). There wasn't a whole lot of singing as there was incredible acrobatics. It reminded me a little bit of the kabuki plays I had seen in a production at Philadelphia's Kimmel Center but this wasn't quite the same.
I had learned a lot about the art of Chinese opera at the HK National Museum. The painting of the faces represented different types of personalities and it was very hierarchical backstage. Who got to dress where, wear what and got what parts was super important and between the actors it was super competitive. The costumes were extremely intricate. There was more of an art in creating the production as there was in performing it. In kabuki, it's not quite that intense.
The production was about an hour long. The acrobatics were impressive for such a small cast and there were digital displays that subtitled everything. I went home after and tried to conjure up an idea to get some money to get a cab.
This is when my trip kind of fell apart....
******************************************************************************
I had $20 left remaining on an American credit card from home but the taxis don't use cards and I couldn't pull the money out of an ATM because I couldn't remember my PIN. The card company couldn't give me my PIN except by slow mail. I had already borrowed some money from my mother for this trip. I couldn't ask her for more. I tried to solve the problem completely on my own and did something stupid then. I used Moneygram's online wiring service and tried to use the $20 remaining on my credit card to pay myself to my Chinese bank account (they offered direct deposit payments within less than 24 hours to certain overseas banks). It didn't work and then it seemed like I was banned from logging back in.
I called my father and Charles to see if they could help. Both tried to wire me some money through a wiring service. I had enough to at least get to the airport. Leaving from the Wuxi airport would be the problem but there was sure to be an ATM and I could get the money from my account then. My flight left at 8 am, I hadn't fallen asleep till about 3 am mulling over the problem. I awoke around 6 and packed and got ready. I got a cab and headed over. I had enough to get to the airport. It was about 80 yuan. I had about 20 left. I relaxed and got on the plane with litte hassle.
Good-bye, Beijing!
As I arrived to Wuxi, I headed straight to the ATM. Nothing was in the account. With 20 yuan left it would cost me about 30 to 40 yuan to get back home. I tried to talk to the bus counter but they didn't have a bus that took me where I needed to go, or so they said. A gypsy cab driver followed me around and I kept telling him I didn't have enough money. I was tired and annoyed and he didn't understand me so he kept hassling me. "Bu gao chien!" (I don't have enough cash) I kept saying. I told him what I had, he didn't or wouldn't understand. I think more of the latter since everyone assumes Americans are rich. It reminded me of that dumb taxi cab. I waited on a bench in the airport trying to figure out what to do. I checked to see if I had enough money to get to the nearest bank. I couldn't be sure. I sat for about 15 minutes when the gypsy driver came up to me with a small, young Chinese woman with glasses. She asked me where I was going in english and I told her. She said the driver was offering to take me. I explained to her how I only had about 20 yuan. She explained this to him. All of the sudden it sunk in. He said "oh no no no" then laughing said he couldn't take me. I rolled my eyes and the young lady apologized. "I'm sorry he just sort of grabbed me and asked me to help."
"It's okay," I said, "Thanks."
After another 20 minutes went by I decided to just go around asking if anyone can spare some change. It was horrifying to think of begging money from anyone around China. However, there was no staff at my school I could call everyone was gone from the holiday and no one would be around to be able to help me even if I did call anyone at home. I pulled up my phone translation app and typed in "Can you spare any change? Don't have enough for cab home." It translated into mandarin and then I showed about 3 people my phone (the last guy just looked at my phone and then stared at me awkwardly unblinking and silent till I just walked away) when I got to the woman who had translated for the gypsy cab driver. She was with her father and daughter. "Oh," I said, "You're the woman that spoke to me earlier."
She asked me what happened and I explained my entire issue and she offered to help. She tried calling Annie, my intermediary and contact at the school, although I had told her it was probably no use. Annie indeed turned out to be no help just recommending I should take a cab. I'm not sure what else she said to the woman as they spoke but she didn't get off the phone with Annie with any extra answers. We went out to the cab drivers and she asked them how much it would cost to get back to the school. They told her the cost I had suspected.One of the cab drivers however, told her I could take a bus about 3 stops out which would cost 5 yuan and then the cab ride from that stop would be 10 yuan.
We went that route. I waited along with her family. They offered me a snack and I declined. I was just anxious to get home after waiting an hour at the airport. I had wondered why the money didn't go through the wiring service but I would get behind it later. The young woman gave me her English name Serena and she was nice. I asked her where she studied english and she said at her university although, she said, she didn't have much opportunity to use it.
It reminded me of how when I first got here how Heather told me everyone here starts learning english from grade school but then they often don't speak it later. She had suspected, what I now believe is rightly so, from lack of diversity in China which didn't allow Chinese to utilize what they learned.
"In America, you have a lot of different cultures so you have more practice I guess," she had told me.
We boarded the bus and Serena double-checked the info with the bus driver. I must've thanked her a bunch of times as we neared my stop and I got off and said goodbye to her and her family. I flagged down a cab and I gave him my address. I asked how much it would be and he said 10 yuan. We were actually less than 5 minutes away from the school and I was excited to finally see the campus gate. I paid him and rolled my luggage briskly back into my apartment as the guard opened the gate. I didn't even unpack. I threw my stuff down. Plopped onto my bed and fell asleep.
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You're probably wondering what happened to the money. This had been my first budget snag since I arrived and of course it happened at the worst possible time.
Well, I found out later the money from Moneygram had been declined and Charles and my father were refunded. They flagged me as a security risk after I had tried to send money to myself in China using a credit card. I could see why that would be a flag due to the high identity theft that occurs in China. I tried to ask if there was a way I could prove my identity and remove the flag, as I still needed money to get me through one more week before the school would pay me. Moneygram said no, but it was fine because the weekend was over (it had been Sunday back home when all the banks were closed) so I gave my father my American bank account number and he just deposited in there and I withdrew. Later, I got some extra money from Charles and my friend Christina who also ended up helping. If you're reading this thanks guys. You quite literally saved me from starvation.
Sunday, February 22, 2015
2/21-Wintry mix of temples
I awoke around 8 for a tour that I had booked as a group tour only to find I was lucky as no one else booked with the tour agency and I was by myself. Lucky me, I paid a cheaper price for a group tour that would not be a private one. I had booked the trip through Viator's website and it was a little hard to find any place actually doing tours the weekend of the actual New Year as businesses were generally closed. I waited in the lobby and was greeted by an Asian woman with brown hair cut in a short pixie cut that seemed too young for her and round owl-like glasses. She wore a long brownish bubble jacket that went down to her ankles and brown boots. She introduced herself as Cherry. She informed me of my lucky predicament about my essentially private tour and walked me to the car where the driver was waiting.
She wasn't nearly as outgoing as Thunk but she was still polite and friendly. She occasionally would tell me about a landmark or two that we would pass by but mostly she talked to the driver in her native tongue. It didn't bother me much but it was particularly cold and hazy this day although still not quite as cold as the first day. All the stops were outdoors. Lucky me. Our first trip was going to be Summer Palace, which was the farthest location. Cherry was hoping to burn out some time for the coldness of the morning to dissipate a bit and it was about a 45 minute drive. I mostly drank water and played with my phone. She didn't ask me too many questions and seemed content pointing out buildings and discussing city walls and how long and tall they were and how long they took to build.
As she was talking, I thought about a project I had my students do once where I assigned them a major city in several states. They all did presentations about the square kilometers of well-known parks and famous buildings and how tall or long they were. It occurred to me then that the Chinese must take the size of things that were built as a prideful thing when usually such statistics bored most Americans.
For them, it was more important I felt, because of the history of the many walls and buildings they had in China defied the understanding of the technology they had during ancient times during the times in which they built these things. Things took much more time and risk to build and had a history of a dynasty behind it that unless you really knew your dynasties wouldn't really understand.
In America, where things were more modern and rarely ancient, it was a fairly easier feat to accomplish building something unless it had a Frank Lloyd Wright design or something of the sort.
As I listened to her breakdowns of measurements of various places, I rubbed my hands together to try to get warm. We got to the Summer Palace used heavily as a summer resort great Empress Dowager Cixi.
The morning haze was still upon us and Kunming Lake was before us providing the air with cool, wet damp moisture. Cherry walked briskly through the palace and I tried to linger in places to take in the view of the lake. She went over and explained some of the ships and showed me intricately painted corridors, each section containing a different painting and no two the same. She pointed out a few places to take photos and gave me a brief history of the place. She seemed rushed and I tried to keep up with her brisk steps while taking in the view. It was pretty crowded for a wet day but it wasn't raining or snowing at least. I imagined Summer Palace is probably even more breathtaking in the Summer when the empress obviously utilized it for its best features (which were long corridors built to take in the cool breezes from the lake) but its beauty was not lost in the wintry glaze of February morning.
"Cherry," I said, "I can't really keep up this pace. Do you mind slowing down?"
"Oh sure," she said.
Slowing down, however, in the end meant she kept her same pace and now occasionally stopped and looked behind her to see where I was and then waiting for me to catch up. Not walking alongside me and just slowing down her personal pace. I gave up but I got some beautiful pictures of the Forbidden City.
In both the Summer Palace and The Forbidden City there are multiple entrances or gates, some entrances more popular than others for the sake of the view and scenery. The properties were very large and to see everything would require multiple visits. Cherry said there were many natives, herself included, who hadn't seen all the parts of The Forbidden City.
As we trudged through, Cherry's english wasn't the best and she spoke very fast making it hard to really understand her at times but she explained things and helped me take photos of myself standing in areas where the crowds were less thin.
We got through the City fast enough and she explained about yet another city wall that surrounded Beijing. To be honest, I didn't pay much attention. China has so many walls, it was apparent that they were staples in many cities.
This was a shopping tour which meant the tour agency had contracted deals with nearby vendors to try to sell products to tourists and then the tour agencies would get a cut of the profits if a sale was made. This kept the cost of the tours down themselves, especially group ones because they make the difference back with the commission from the vendors. I was initially nervous because I had read horror stories about people going on these tours and being harassed or bullied or even left behind if they didn't actually purchase anything. I found no such reviews for this particular tour. So we stopped first at a clearwater pearl factory right after Summer Palace.
I was shown a short video on how they harness the pearls and make the clams create the pearls. Afterwards a lady with way to much makeup dressed in a black skirt suit came down and stood behind a tank of some rather large clams. She and Cherry told me excitedly to pick a clam and the larger the clams the larger the pearls. They said I got to keep a pearl as a souvenir.
I should add here I have no interest in jewelry. I am the least likely person to ever purchase a piece of jewelry. Diamonds, necklaces and bracelets are not something I own nor wish to own. The few rings I have on my fingers are sentiments of my boyfriend, Charles, given to me as gifts. Prior to that the most jewelry you would have ever seen me wear are earrings my mother bought me. I have never purchased a piece of jewelry for myself. Yet, I played along with this ridiculous game. They opened the clam, the saleswoman pointing at all the pearls and cutting the membrane of the clam's mouth that covered the pearls. As she did it, I couldn't help but think how cruel we were as humans to force grains of sand that were clearly uncomfortable down the mouth of a clam to make a round stone and then kill them after a time just so we could wear these stones around our necks and arms and decorated buttons.
This clam was dying for a sale. But not in a way that one is itching to find a bargain.
They gave me the smallest, most deformed pearls in the lot (I didn't have a choice in this) and then escorted me upstairs to what looked like a jewelry store filled with pearls. The saleslady told me they had a "special sale" (as they always do despite the 300% markup, that's not an exaggerated figure and is why haggling is a well-needed skill) and to look around. I looked at a counter for about 10 seconds looking at outrageous price tags and then went to Cherry and told her I had no funds to purchase such expensive items. Our time here was essentially a waste. She mouthed "I'm sorry" to the saleslady as we headed downstairs and exited back to the car.
The next shop was a silk factory after we had left The Forbidden City. The lady gave her pitch on how silk was made and showed me the cocoons of silk worms, the different sizes and how they create different qualities of silk depending on the size of cocoon. It was interesting to say the least but then they went on to sell bed products, silk scarves and clothing that were widely overpriced compared to the street markets. I remember paying 200 yuan (approx $30) for what I was told was a handmade silk scarf in Shanghai once and my friend Rose who had turned away when I was making the purchase yelled at me saying I over-payed and that the cost of silk in China was super cheap. She said I shouldn't have spent more than $30 yuan and I had no way of really telling if it was handmade or not. Keeping that in mind these things were around that price or more. I walked up to Cherry shortly after the presentation and then being escorted to the clothing area.
"Hey, I'm ready to go." I said. She had been busy texting on her phone and she didn't put up a fight at all as we walked back to the car.
Those were the last of the shopping stops.
We had lunch before the silk factory however at a small local restaurant where the food had already been ordered for me. I had tea, rice with carrots and peas and chicken with a sweet glaze over it (not sweet and sour, again that doesn't exist here). I dug in with chopsticks. The weirdest thing happened as I ate. Cherry was not around as I ate and I was at a table by myself that was off to the side in sort of a corridor area. I was the only one seated in that area despite the tables around me. There were smaller booths in the back and a few tables that were already taken up. So visitors were walking by me. I started to get stares. I realized after a while that they were actually surprised at me eating with chopsticks. I would get curious looks that would follow down to my hand followed by small smiles and slight nods of approval. Some people nudged their friends or family members and waved their heads slightly in my direction. People did double takes. It was the oddest thing. The restaurant had given me a fork and spoon in case but I didn't think to use it. I had been taught to use chopsticks years ago, well before my trip to China when my mother had taught me as a kid. We would have Chinese takeout nights and she bought chopsticks and I would practice. My technique wasn't technically proper but it worked efficiently for me and me being a southpaw which was also an anomaly in China (they correct kids if they're left-handed) I didn't really try too much to learn the proper way since it felt awkward and I do things sometimes differently due to comfort.
Needless to say, I felt a little bit redeemed in the gratification of the natives even though it wasn't really a skill I had acquired here.
After lunch, we headed to the last stop which was Temple of Heaven. This was the shortest trip unfortunately. At this point it was almost 2pm but it was cold. Bitterly cold. Most of the areas we found were closed off due to crowd control which Cherry said was weird because it wasn't anywhere near busy and she had been there before at peak times and the whole area would be open. We had to take a ridiculously long detour to see a couple of buildings from a far. I got a few pictures and then we walked back.
I googled well-known shops in the area and set out to try to find the appropriate trains to get to them. One I had my eye one closed around 8. It was now going on 9 and I was running out of options, each place getting closer to closing and I had to judge the commute and the time. I found one restaurant (after much walking up and down passing several dark, abandoned streets with lots of closed shops) that closed at 10:30 and rushed to it, dreading eating McDonald's another night. I found a place called Cha Hua Mei Zi (Yunnan Camellia Sister Restaurant). It was on some list for best noodles. I sat down and ordered a large noodle bowl with beef and then a side of fried Shanghai duck (they didn't have Peking on the menu much to my disappointment and the taste of the duck was nowhere near as good). I was the only one in the restaurant and it was near close, super dark and cold out, and unlikely anyone else would walk in. So the kitchen crew ate with the waitress while I ate my meal. I paid and bundled up and headed up down to the station to head home and retire for the evening.
She wasn't nearly as outgoing as Thunk but she was still polite and friendly. She occasionally would tell me about a landmark or two that we would pass by but mostly she talked to the driver in her native tongue. It didn't bother me much but it was particularly cold and hazy this day although still not quite as cold as the first day. All the stops were outdoors. Lucky me. Our first trip was going to be Summer Palace, which was the farthest location. Cherry was hoping to burn out some time for the coldness of the morning to dissipate a bit and it was about a 45 minute drive. I mostly drank water and played with my phone. She didn't ask me too many questions and seemed content pointing out buildings and discussing city walls and how long and tall they were and how long they took to build.
As she was talking, I thought about a project I had my students do once where I assigned them a major city in several states. They all did presentations about the square kilometers of well-known parks and famous buildings and how tall or long they were. It occurred to me then that the Chinese must take the size of things that were built as a prideful thing when usually such statistics bored most Americans.
For them, it was more important I felt, because of the history of the many walls and buildings they had in China defied the understanding of the technology they had during ancient times during the times in which they built these things. Things took much more time and risk to build and had a history of a dynasty behind it that unless you really knew your dynasties wouldn't really understand.
In America, where things were more modern and rarely ancient, it was a fairly easier feat to accomplish building something unless it had a Frank Lloyd Wright design or something of the sort.
As I listened to her breakdowns of measurements of various places, I rubbed my hands together to try to get warm. We got to the Summer Palace used heavily as a summer resort great Empress Dowager Cixi.
The morning haze was still upon us and Kunming Lake was before us providing the air with cool, wet damp moisture. Cherry walked briskly through the palace and I tried to linger in places to take in the view of the lake. She went over and explained some of the ships and showed me intricately painted corridors, each section containing a different painting and no two the same. She pointed out a few places to take photos and gave me a brief history of the place. She seemed rushed and I tried to keep up with her brisk steps while taking in the view. It was pretty crowded for a wet day but it wasn't raining or snowing at least. I imagined Summer Palace is probably even more breathtaking in the Summer when the empress obviously utilized it for its best features (which were long corridors built to take in the cool breezes from the lake) but its beauty was not lost in the wintry glaze of February morning.
Kunming Lake
Bridge At Summer Palace
We power-trekked through Summer Palace in about half an hour and then our next stop was Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City both of which were right next to each other. It was indeed slightly warmer as we got to our destination. I took pictures of the monument that looked very much like a smaller version of the Washington monument in DC that was in the middle of the square that proclaimed "The People's glory." Cherry helped me take a few photos and some panoramic ones since I was terrible at doing those on my iPhone. There were tons of people lined up outside of a building across the square which turned out to be the entrance of the Forbidden City. Across the street from the square was the National History Museum I visited yesterday. I had no idea then that it was right across the street from the square itself. We entered the Forbidden City. Cherry manipulating the spaces of the crowd like a pro and me struggling to catch up. I almost felt like she was rushing for a reason then I recalled when we left Summer Palace she had told me she was glad it wasn't a large group today and it was easier to manage a private tour because she was eager to get back to her mother and see her for the holiday. I suspected she was trying to get this over with. I tried to catch my breath"Cherry," I said, "I can't really keep up this pace. Do you mind slowing down?"
"Oh sure," she said.
Slowing down, however, in the end meant she kept her same pace and now occasionally stopped and looked behind her to see where I was and then waiting for me to catch up. Not walking alongside me and just slowing down her personal pace. I gave up but I got some beautiful pictures of the Forbidden City.
Forbidden City Entrance behind me
Line heading into F.C. (picture of Mao over entrance)
Forbidden City
Outside the entrance, one of the temples inside FC
In both the Summer Palace and The Forbidden City there are multiple entrances or gates, some entrances more popular than others for the sake of the view and scenery. The properties were very large and to see everything would require multiple visits. Cherry said there were many natives, herself included, who hadn't seen all the parts of The Forbidden City.
As we trudged through, Cherry's english wasn't the best and she spoke very fast making it hard to really understand her at times but she explained things and helped me take photos of myself standing in areas where the crowds were less thin.
We got through the City fast enough and she explained about yet another city wall that surrounded Beijing. To be honest, I didn't pay much attention. China has so many walls, it was apparent that they were staples in many cities.
This was a shopping tour which meant the tour agency had contracted deals with nearby vendors to try to sell products to tourists and then the tour agencies would get a cut of the profits if a sale was made. This kept the cost of the tours down themselves, especially group ones because they make the difference back with the commission from the vendors. I was initially nervous because I had read horror stories about people going on these tours and being harassed or bullied or even left behind if they didn't actually purchase anything. I found no such reviews for this particular tour. So we stopped first at a clearwater pearl factory right after Summer Palace.
I was shown a short video on how they harness the pearls and make the clams create the pearls. Afterwards a lady with way to much makeup dressed in a black skirt suit came down and stood behind a tank of some rather large clams. She and Cherry told me excitedly to pick a clam and the larger the clams the larger the pearls. They said I got to keep a pearl as a souvenir.
I should add here I have no interest in jewelry. I am the least likely person to ever purchase a piece of jewelry. Diamonds, necklaces and bracelets are not something I own nor wish to own. The few rings I have on my fingers are sentiments of my boyfriend, Charles, given to me as gifts. Prior to that the most jewelry you would have ever seen me wear are earrings my mother bought me. I have never purchased a piece of jewelry for myself. Yet, I played along with this ridiculous game. They opened the clam, the saleswoman pointing at all the pearls and cutting the membrane of the clam's mouth that covered the pearls. As she did it, I couldn't help but think how cruel we were as humans to force grains of sand that were clearly uncomfortable down the mouth of a clam to make a round stone and then kill them after a time just so we could wear these stones around our necks and arms and decorated buttons.
This clam was dying for a sale. But not in a way that one is itching to find a bargain.
They gave me the smallest, most deformed pearls in the lot (I didn't have a choice in this) and then escorted me upstairs to what looked like a jewelry store filled with pearls. The saleslady told me they had a "special sale" (as they always do despite the 300% markup, that's not an exaggerated figure and is why haggling is a well-needed skill) and to look around. I looked at a counter for about 10 seconds looking at outrageous price tags and then went to Cherry and told her I had no funds to purchase such expensive items. Our time here was essentially a waste. She mouthed "I'm sorry" to the saleslady as we headed downstairs and exited back to the car.
The next shop was a silk factory after we had left The Forbidden City. The lady gave her pitch on how silk was made and showed me the cocoons of silk worms, the different sizes and how they create different qualities of silk depending on the size of cocoon. It was interesting to say the least but then they went on to sell bed products, silk scarves and clothing that were widely overpriced compared to the street markets. I remember paying 200 yuan (approx $30) for what I was told was a handmade silk scarf in Shanghai once and my friend Rose who had turned away when I was making the purchase yelled at me saying I over-payed and that the cost of silk in China was super cheap. She said I shouldn't have spent more than $30 yuan and I had no way of really telling if it was handmade or not. Keeping that in mind these things were around that price or more. I walked up to Cherry shortly after the presentation and then being escorted to the clothing area.
"Hey, I'm ready to go." I said. She had been busy texting on her phone and she didn't put up a fight at all as we walked back to the car.
Those were the last of the shopping stops.
We had lunch before the silk factory however at a small local restaurant where the food had already been ordered for me. I had tea, rice with carrots and peas and chicken with a sweet glaze over it (not sweet and sour, again that doesn't exist here). I dug in with chopsticks. The weirdest thing happened as I ate. Cherry was not around as I ate and I was at a table by myself that was off to the side in sort of a corridor area. I was the only one seated in that area despite the tables around me. There were smaller booths in the back and a few tables that were already taken up. So visitors were walking by me. I started to get stares. I realized after a while that they were actually surprised at me eating with chopsticks. I would get curious looks that would follow down to my hand followed by small smiles and slight nods of approval. Some people nudged their friends or family members and waved their heads slightly in my direction. People did double takes. It was the oddest thing. The restaurant had given me a fork and spoon in case but I didn't think to use it. I had been taught to use chopsticks years ago, well before my trip to China when my mother had taught me as a kid. We would have Chinese takeout nights and she bought chopsticks and I would practice. My technique wasn't technically proper but it worked efficiently for me and me being a southpaw which was also an anomaly in China (they correct kids if they're left-handed) I didn't really try too much to learn the proper way since it felt awkward and I do things sometimes differently due to comfort.
Needless to say, I felt a little bit redeemed in the gratification of the natives even though it wasn't really a skill I had acquired here.
After lunch, we headed to the last stop which was Temple of Heaven. This was the shortest trip unfortunately. At this point it was almost 2pm but it was cold. Bitterly cold. Most of the areas we found were closed off due to crowd control which Cherry said was weird because it wasn't anywhere near busy and she had been there before at peak times and the whole area would be open. We had to take a ridiculously long detour to see a couple of buildings from a far. I got a few pictures and then we walked back.
Walkway through Temple of Heaven
Temple of Heaven
That was it. At this point, I was cold, numb and tired mostly from keeping up with Cherry's power walking. We were well under schedule considering the tour was supposed to last till 5pm and we were done before 3. I was driven home. I took a long, deep nap and awoke around 6. Soon after, I was hungry and decided I wanted to find a place to eat.I googled well-known shops in the area and set out to try to find the appropriate trains to get to them. One I had my eye one closed around 8. It was now going on 9 and I was running out of options, each place getting closer to closing and I had to judge the commute and the time. I found one restaurant (after much walking up and down passing several dark, abandoned streets with lots of closed shops) that closed at 10:30 and rushed to it, dreading eating McDonald's another night. I found a place called Cha Hua Mei Zi (Yunnan Camellia Sister Restaurant). It was on some list for best noodles. I sat down and ordered a large noodle bowl with beef and then a side of fried Shanghai duck (they didn't have Peking on the menu much to my disappointment and the taste of the duck was nowhere near as good). I was the only one in the restaurant and it was near close, super dark and cold out, and unlikely anyone else would walk in. So the kitchen crew ate with the waitress while I ate my meal. I paid and bundled up and headed up down to the station to head home and retire for the evening.
Thursday, February 19, 2015
2/19: Chinese New Year-It's Not All Good Luck For Everyone
I spent about half of a week back home but I had one last trip to make that I was most excited about.
Beijing.
Chinese New Year was around the corner and what better way to celebrate it than in the capital city. A few things went a bit wrong in booking it. There was some issue with what I booked and what was actually available so the booking agency called me to inform me. I would end up arriving in Beijing closer to the early evening. No problem, I thought, I can catch the fireworks. Second was the hotel. It was near impossible to find a decently priced hotel that was ALSO in a good location to go visit Tienanmen Square area where most of the attractions are located. Most of the hotels were either by the airport or on the complete opposite side of the city. Either way trains from those areas would take forever and cabs would be expensive. I found a budget hotel instead. No worries, I thought, I won't be staying in the hotel long anyway as I'll be out sight-seeing.
This time I flew by plane from Beijing and I was lucky to get a flight right from Wuxi airport instead of having to trek to Shanghai first where flights were usually cheaper (even with the need to purchase a plane ticket from Wuxi to Shanghai).
The flight was only a couple of hours. Within landing, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.
The huge, grey overbearing clouds made all the world a husky, chilly grey along with it. And as I stepped of the plane; snowflurries fell. SNOW FLURRIES!
I had just come from the beautiful, tropic-like Hong Kong from the far southern reaches. But Beijing I found was north. Very north. More north than Xian which had also been cold but a tolerable cold around the 50s.
I had come prepared for cold but not freezing. Beijing wasn't just cold. It was the type of cold that permeates through your bones making them feel creaky and heavy and slow. It was the kind of cold that made you want to curl up and sleep next to a heater or even better perhaps a fireplace and a nice down duvet. It was wet, and slushy and chilly.
I got there at the last of daylight around 5 pm but the taxi ride to my hotel took about 30-40 minutes and when I got to my hotel, daylight was practically done. I settled into my room which was exactly as the website had called it "a budget room". There were no windows, it was a small room in the basement level of the hotel. It wasn't very clean. There were slippers wrapped in plastic that looked reused. The shower had a clump of hair in it and the cups and tea kettle (which every hotel usually has) did not looked either used for a very long time or perhaps they were used and unclean. I checked the bed and inspected it very closely. That was clean to the very least and the bedding looked fresh.
Perhaps what made me gloss over all the other imperfections was the heat. It was very well-heated in the room. In fact, the heater was a bit too powerful and it took a few adjustments within the first night to get a feel for the perfect temperature that wouldn't leave me sweating or shivering. I definitely resolved to not spend a lot of time here. I had 2 days of tours booked and was only staying for four days.
I wanted to go out to eat and googled the first place I always did when I got to another city because there were always plenty of them: McDonald's. There happened to be one a couple of blocks from the hotel. I braced myself begrudgingly for the cold throwing on multiple layers and my pea coat, resenting the fact that I left my long, down winter jacket back home. As I waddled out, it was dark now and off in the distance there were fireworks going off. I made my way along a wet, dark alley to cut through the parking lot area and arrived at the McDonald's in less than 5 minutes. I took an extra sandwich home, listening to the fireworks going off far away and feeling miserable because I could not seem to get warm enough to possess the energy to chase them. So much for Chinese New Year.
I got in then showered then proceeded to bed. The next day was freely mine to take. My last full days I had booked tours to every major tourist attraction imaginable and then I left very early in the morning on the 23rd.
No fireworks tonight, I thought as I tucked myself underneath the warmth of the blankets. Not in this cold while it's snowing out.
**************************************************************************
The next day, I awoke rather late in the morning. Without the guidance of sunlight through a window it's rather hard to tell the day and being in a warm, dark basement room didn't make matters easier. I had planned that day to go to the Chinese National History Museum. This museum was everything about the history of China and then some. There were not tours today so I set out in my warmest get-up and searched the train stations that would get me there. It was relatively easy but the train station was about a 10-15 minute walk. I set out and was happy to find that it was relatively slightly warmer today although still overcast and light flurries continued to fall. It was wet and grey. I pumped music into my ears through my headphones as I walked to the subway. I figured out how to use the ticket dispenser easy enough with the help of Google maps on my phone although there destination choices were much more vast than HK which took some time to navigate through. I found the right station and paid the fee then waited on the platform.
Heading out I looked to try to find the museum. There seemed to be long lines of people around a few buildings coming out of the station. One of those long lines was for the museum. At this point it was heading well into 1pm and I was a bit discouraged but I sucked it up and waited in an immense line that with each decrease, personal space became less and less of a concept. I had at one point people using their children to push through, someone constantly stepping onto my heels, someone flatulating somewhere near me and of course the weird stares from nearby folks simply for being a foreigner, in particular a black one. I blocked it all out with Mariah Carey patiently waiting for about an hour to get into the museum. I saw the military march by. It was odd to see so many of them. I'm not sure if it was for security reasons around the holiday but they were stationed in small booths on almost every corner of the street.
When finally inside, there was some confusion at the ticket counter. One side was for native residents who could scan their Chinese ID cards and go in. The other side was the entrance for foreigners with access by showing your passport. Admission to both was free. I finally got inside and was overwhelmed at the vastness of the museum itself. It was broken into sections from ancient Chinese history to the infamous Cultural Revolution of Mao to Chinese architecture and then a few special exhibits on western cultures such as Russia and England (those you had to pay by purchasing special tickets). A lot of the sections were closed off, I imagine, for the anticipation of large crowds for the holiday. I was very interested in the Mao exhibit taking photos of friendly Mao shaking hands, mingling with the laborers of the land, teaching children, leading soldiers in a painting that looked very much in the style of America's George Washington crossing the Delaware. I found myself amused, perturbed and fascinated by the revisionist history of China.
I recall one time teaching my class about patriotic symbols of America and landmarks. I talked to them about a few iconic presidents and the symbols of our flag. Then I asked them to discuss similar things in their country. Among their answers had been Chairman Mao as a national hero, Tienanmen Square as a proud national landmark, and the stars on their flag represented the 5 classes of China; farmers, workers, soldiers and teachers. The largest star being of course the Communist party. All were important to keep the great country of China going, they told me. I found it slightly bemusing that although all were supposedly equally important in running China the largest, overshadowing yellow star belonged to the Communist Party.
This photo stuck out at me mostly because it was an extremely graphic depiction of the revolution yet this small boy was taking it in. In it are likely the bodies of traitors to Mao as the communist party stands proudly gazing at the bloody bodies of men, women and even children the soldier in the far left wiping the blood off of his sword, non-chalantly.
I took multiple photos here and then I made my way to a pottery exhibit that was more in line with the blue and white china they sell at stores in America, only these were obviously more authentic. Chinese are huge on pottery and almost every museum I had been to contained a little in each dynasty. After Xian, however, which had the largest collection of these things, I didn't really have much interest in taking more photos of them. I checked out a calligraphy exhibit and some statues of terra cotta. I found I had probably looked at the most history in Xian and Beijing just contained fragments of these. I only spent about 2 hours or so at the museum when around 4:30 they started to herd people out as the museum closed at 5. I headed out and back to the train station.
It was from there I got horribly lost.
Exiting on the wrong side of the street from the subway station, it was already dark and I couldn't figure out which direction I had gone. I was confused. I wandered up and down several roads in the cold, crossing streets and pedestrian overpasses that were slippery with snow, trying to figure out where I was from the subways and my hotel street. There weren't a lot of people and it was cold. There were intimidating soldiers on every other corner but I was a bit afraid to approach them. My Google map app wasn't making sense, the compass was off and my battery was dying fast. I was lost but strangely not upset by it. Snow had started to fall lightly under the glowing orange lights and I felt calm and stopped a second to enjoy the beauty of it. At one point, I stopped walking and immersed myself in the silence and solace of the empty street listening to the distant hum of cars and I was inspired by the beauty around me.
After a time, I traced my way back to the station. Outside of the entrance, a couple of bike taxis were at the entrance. I had avoided these in China for the most part because they looked suspicious, they have no meter and I rarely see locals taking them. But I was cold and tired and desperate. They asked me in chinese where I was going and I pulled up the address on my phone and told them in Chinese I didn't know where I was and if they knew where the street was. I was really hoping they would just point me in the direction but the guy driver said he could get me there and he knew where it was. The ride lasted 10 minutes which should not have been considering it took me about 15 minutes to walk there. I slowly realized I was being tricked. He dropped me off by an alley way that looked like my destination so I thanked him at first not recognizing the street. I asked him how much and he said 180 yuan. I looked at him incredulously. I yelled at him that was too much money in chinese and that a taxi would've cost less. I had been holding out the money prepared to pay him before he gave me the price and he snatched the 100 out of my hand and tried to take an extra 10 from the wallet I was holding. I told him no and he yelled at me and I just kept saying "No! Too much money!" in Chinese which strangely enough I had just learned not too long ago from an audio lesson. He waved me off huffing and annoyed and rode back. I was now out 100 and when I looked around, I was lost. I pulled up my phone and of course....battery dead. It was now going on 7pm and I was heading into being lost for about 2 hours. Where I was, there were only a couple of restaurants but most of the shops were closed and the rode was mostly deserted.
I wandered up and down the street for a second and walked into a lobby and asked 2 guys working there if I could charge my phone and that I was lost. I pulled out my cord gesturing. One of them knew very little english but enough to get my meaning. They plugged it in for me behind the counter and I thanked them and apologized. I pulled the gloves off my cold, red, stiff hands and proceeded to rub them together. I was still trying to process what happened.
I will say this, looking back in hindsight, I realized the absolute danger I could've been in between being swindled in a dark alleyway refusing to pay money on a street with little to no witnesses. But even when I got lost or confused in China, I never felt unsafe more than I did annoyed. Generally, people only tried to swindle you because they figured you were a tourist and rich and stupid. I had managed to get out of people taking advantage by actually knowing a bit of mandarin enough to make people not really get too carried away. It had failed in this case but I didn't feel in danger even when the driver was close and flailing his arms yelling at me. And truthfully, I was quite low on money when I got to Beijing having booked 2 tours and it being my last holiday adventure. It was important that I budgeted. But I digress.
I sat in the lobby for about 15 minutes. I didn't want to inconvenience anyone and I just wanted enough of a charge to look up the local subway station to get back home, having no idea how far I was. I was out 100 yuan so a taxi was no longer an option. While I waited, the desk clerk saw how cold I was. He brought down a cup of hot water and a small metal cup of sweetened popcorn. I thanked him and we tried failingly to have a conversation. After sometime, my phone finally had some juice. I showed him the address to my hotel and asked about a train station. Every ounce of mandarin I had learned had become essential on this day along. He instructed me where to go. My understanding wasn't perfect but I had some idea of what he was saying, enough to get the general direction. From there, I figured, while on my way I would double check with someone. The battery was about 20 percent. I walked where he told me to till I got to a huge intersection. I was pretty sure he had instructed me to go left down a certain street which I saw ahead of me. I double checked this with a mother and son on the same corner and I had been right. They were actually heading the same way. I got to the station without fail. Once back, I took the opposite exit than I had the first time. The exit looked just like the other one but the street looked more familiar. I remember it was a straight walk to the station from the hotel, there were no turns. I finally made it back to my hotel, at around 9pm. I had grabbed some Mcdonalds to go and sat down miserably cold, 100 yuan poorer, hungry and tired.
I couldn't wait for this trip to end yet I couldn't wait for my first tour tomorrow to put something light and jovial in this whole ordeal.
Beijing.
Chinese New Year was around the corner and what better way to celebrate it than in the capital city. A few things went a bit wrong in booking it. There was some issue with what I booked and what was actually available so the booking agency called me to inform me. I would end up arriving in Beijing closer to the early evening. No problem, I thought, I can catch the fireworks. Second was the hotel. It was near impossible to find a decently priced hotel that was ALSO in a good location to go visit Tienanmen Square area where most of the attractions are located. Most of the hotels were either by the airport or on the complete opposite side of the city. Either way trains from those areas would take forever and cabs would be expensive. I found a budget hotel instead. No worries, I thought, I won't be staying in the hotel long anyway as I'll be out sight-seeing.
This time I flew by plane from Beijing and I was lucky to get a flight right from Wuxi airport instead of having to trek to Shanghai first where flights were usually cheaper (even with the need to purchase a plane ticket from Wuxi to Shanghai).
The flight was only a couple of hours. Within landing, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.
The huge, grey overbearing clouds made all the world a husky, chilly grey along with it. And as I stepped of the plane; snowflurries fell. SNOW FLURRIES!
I had just come from the beautiful, tropic-like Hong Kong from the far southern reaches. But Beijing I found was north. Very north. More north than Xian which had also been cold but a tolerable cold around the 50s.
I had come prepared for cold but not freezing. Beijing wasn't just cold. It was the type of cold that permeates through your bones making them feel creaky and heavy and slow. It was the kind of cold that made you want to curl up and sleep next to a heater or even better perhaps a fireplace and a nice down duvet. It was wet, and slushy and chilly.
I got there at the last of daylight around 5 pm but the taxi ride to my hotel took about 30-40 minutes and when I got to my hotel, daylight was practically done. I settled into my room which was exactly as the website had called it "a budget room". There were no windows, it was a small room in the basement level of the hotel. It wasn't very clean. There were slippers wrapped in plastic that looked reused. The shower had a clump of hair in it and the cups and tea kettle (which every hotel usually has) did not looked either used for a very long time or perhaps they were used and unclean. I checked the bed and inspected it very closely. That was clean to the very least and the bedding looked fresh.
Perhaps what made me gloss over all the other imperfections was the heat. It was very well-heated in the room. In fact, the heater was a bit too powerful and it took a few adjustments within the first night to get a feel for the perfect temperature that wouldn't leave me sweating or shivering. I definitely resolved to not spend a lot of time here. I had 2 days of tours booked and was only staying for four days.
I wanted to go out to eat and googled the first place I always did when I got to another city because there were always plenty of them: McDonald's. There happened to be one a couple of blocks from the hotel. I braced myself begrudgingly for the cold throwing on multiple layers and my pea coat, resenting the fact that I left my long, down winter jacket back home. As I waddled out, it was dark now and off in the distance there were fireworks going off. I made my way along a wet, dark alley to cut through the parking lot area and arrived at the McDonald's in less than 5 minutes. I took an extra sandwich home, listening to the fireworks going off far away and feeling miserable because I could not seem to get warm enough to possess the energy to chase them. So much for Chinese New Year.
I got in then showered then proceeded to bed. The next day was freely mine to take. My last full days I had booked tours to every major tourist attraction imaginable and then I left very early in the morning on the 23rd.
No fireworks tonight, I thought as I tucked myself underneath the warmth of the blankets. Not in this cold while it's snowing out.
**************************************************************************
The next day, I awoke rather late in the morning. Without the guidance of sunlight through a window it's rather hard to tell the day and being in a warm, dark basement room didn't make matters easier. I had planned that day to go to the Chinese National History Museum. This museum was everything about the history of China and then some. There were not tours today so I set out in my warmest get-up and searched the train stations that would get me there. It was relatively easy but the train station was about a 10-15 minute walk. I set out and was happy to find that it was relatively slightly warmer today although still overcast and light flurries continued to fall. It was wet and grey. I pumped music into my ears through my headphones as I walked to the subway. I figured out how to use the ticket dispenser easy enough with the help of Google maps on my phone although there destination choices were much more vast than HK which took some time to navigate through. I found the right station and paid the fee then waited on the platform.
Heading out I looked to try to find the museum. There seemed to be long lines of people around a few buildings coming out of the station. One of those long lines was for the museum. At this point it was heading well into 1pm and I was a bit discouraged but I sucked it up and waited in an immense line that with each decrease, personal space became less and less of a concept. I had at one point people using their children to push through, someone constantly stepping onto my heels, someone flatulating somewhere near me and of course the weird stares from nearby folks simply for being a foreigner, in particular a black one. I blocked it all out with Mariah Carey patiently waiting for about an hour to get into the museum. I saw the military march by. It was odd to see so many of them. I'm not sure if it was for security reasons around the holiday but they were stationed in small booths on almost every corner of the street.
When finally inside, there was some confusion at the ticket counter. One side was for native residents who could scan their Chinese ID cards and go in. The other side was the entrance for foreigners with access by showing your passport. Admission to both was free. I finally got inside and was overwhelmed at the vastness of the museum itself. It was broken into sections from ancient Chinese history to the infamous Cultural Revolution of Mao to Chinese architecture and then a few special exhibits on western cultures such as Russia and England (those you had to pay by purchasing special tickets). A lot of the sections were closed off, I imagine, for the anticipation of large crowds for the holiday. I was very interested in the Mao exhibit taking photos of friendly Mao shaking hands, mingling with the laborers of the land, teaching children, leading soldiers in a painting that looked very much in the style of America's George Washington crossing the Delaware. I found myself amused, perturbed and fascinated by the revisionist history of China.
I recall one time teaching my class about patriotic symbols of America and landmarks. I talked to them about a few iconic presidents and the symbols of our flag. Then I asked them to discuss similar things in their country. Among their answers had been Chairman Mao as a national hero, Tienanmen Square as a proud national landmark, and the stars on their flag represented the 5 classes of China; farmers, workers, soldiers and teachers. The largest star being of course the Communist party. All were important to keep the great country of China going, they told me. I found it slightly bemusing that although all were supposedly equally important in running China the largest, overshadowing yellow star belonged to the Communist Party.
This photo stuck out at me mostly because it was an extremely graphic depiction of the revolution yet this small boy was taking it in. In it are likely the bodies of traitors to Mao as the communist party stands proudly gazing at the bloody bodies of men, women and even children the soldier in the far left wiping the blood off of his sword, non-chalantly.
I took multiple photos here and then I made my way to a pottery exhibit that was more in line with the blue and white china they sell at stores in America, only these were obviously more authentic. Chinese are huge on pottery and almost every museum I had been to contained a little in each dynasty. After Xian, however, which had the largest collection of these things, I didn't really have much interest in taking more photos of them. I checked out a calligraphy exhibit and some statues of terra cotta. I found I had probably looked at the most history in Xian and Beijing just contained fragments of these. I only spent about 2 hours or so at the museum when around 4:30 they started to herd people out as the museum closed at 5. I headed out and back to the train station.
It was from there I got horribly lost.
Exiting on the wrong side of the street from the subway station, it was already dark and I couldn't figure out which direction I had gone. I was confused. I wandered up and down several roads in the cold, crossing streets and pedestrian overpasses that were slippery with snow, trying to figure out where I was from the subways and my hotel street. There weren't a lot of people and it was cold. There were intimidating soldiers on every other corner but I was a bit afraid to approach them. My Google map app wasn't making sense, the compass was off and my battery was dying fast. I was lost but strangely not upset by it. Snow had started to fall lightly under the glowing orange lights and I felt calm and stopped a second to enjoy the beauty of it. At one point, I stopped walking and immersed myself in the silence and solace of the empty street listening to the distant hum of cars and I was inspired by the beauty around me.
After a time, I traced my way back to the station. Outside of the entrance, a couple of bike taxis were at the entrance. I had avoided these in China for the most part because they looked suspicious, they have no meter and I rarely see locals taking them. But I was cold and tired and desperate. They asked me in chinese where I was going and I pulled up the address on my phone and told them in Chinese I didn't know where I was and if they knew where the street was. I was really hoping they would just point me in the direction but the guy driver said he could get me there and he knew where it was. The ride lasted 10 minutes which should not have been considering it took me about 15 minutes to walk there. I slowly realized I was being tricked. He dropped me off by an alley way that looked like my destination so I thanked him at first not recognizing the street. I asked him how much and he said 180 yuan. I looked at him incredulously. I yelled at him that was too much money in chinese and that a taxi would've cost less. I had been holding out the money prepared to pay him before he gave me the price and he snatched the 100 out of my hand and tried to take an extra 10 from the wallet I was holding. I told him no and he yelled at me and I just kept saying "No! Too much money!" in Chinese which strangely enough I had just learned not too long ago from an audio lesson. He waved me off huffing and annoyed and rode back. I was now out 100 and when I looked around, I was lost. I pulled up my phone and of course....battery dead. It was now going on 7pm and I was heading into being lost for about 2 hours. Where I was, there were only a couple of restaurants but most of the shops were closed and the rode was mostly deserted.
I wandered up and down the street for a second and walked into a lobby and asked 2 guys working there if I could charge my phone and that I was lost. I pulled out my cord gesturing. One of them knew very little english but enough to get my meaning. They plugged it in for me behind the counter and I thanked them and apologized. I pulled the gloves off my cold, red, stiff hands and proceeded to rub them together. I was still trying to process what happened.
I will say this, looking back in hindsight, I realized the absolute danger I could've been in between being swindled in a dark alleyway refusing to pay money on a street with little to no witnesses. But even when I got lost or confused in China, I never felt unsafe more than I did annoyed. Generally, people only tried to swindle you because they figured you were a tourist and rich and stupid. I had managed to get out of people taking advantage by actually knowing a bit of mandarin enough to make people not really get too carried away. It had failed in this case but I didn't feel in danger even when the driver was close and flailing his arms yelling at me. And truthfully, I was quite low on money when I got to Beijing having booked 2 tours and it being my last holiday adventure. It was important that I budgeted. But I digress.
I sat in the lobby for about 15 minutes. I didn't want to inconvenience anyone and I just wanted enough of a charge to look up the local subway station to get back home, having no idea how far I was. I was out 100 yuan so a taxi was no longer an option. While I waited, the desk clerk saw how cold I was. He brought down a cup of hot water and a small metal cup of sweetened popcorn. I thanked him and we tried failingly to have a conversation. After sometime, my phone finally had some juice. I showed him the address to my hotel and asked about a train station. Every ounce of mandarin I had learned had become essential on this day along. He instructed me where to go. My understanding wasn't perfect but I had some idea of what he was saying, enough to get the general direction. From there, I figured, while on my way I would double check with someone. The battery was about 20 percent. I walked where he told me to till I got to a huge intersection. I was pretty sure he had instructed me to go left down a certain street which I saw ahead of me. I double checked this with a mother and son on the same corner and I had been right. They were actually heading the same way. I got to the station without fail. Once back, I took the opposite exit than I had the first time. The exit looked just like the other one but the street looked more familiar. I remember it was a straight walk to the station from the hotel, there were no turns. I finally made it back to my hotel, at around 9pm. I had grabbed some Mcdonalds to go and sat down miserably cold, 100 yuan poorer, hungry and tired.
I couldn't wait for this trip to end yet I couldn't wait for my first tour tomorrow to put something light and jovial in this whole ordeal.
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