Beautiful Western Sichuan . . . Which is Essentially Tibet

All of the pictures for this post: Tagong Album.

I have just returned from one of those places where it is simple to lose track of time.  The pace of life was slow; the surrounding scenery was beautiful; and every day offered new experiences.

The village's name was Tagong, and it was the only place that I have visited that has a Tibetan majority.  The architecture is unique: colorfully decorated stone buildings are the norm, and they show almost no trace of traditional Chinese style.  Monks walk the streets in saffron and brown robes or they spend time praying or spinning prayer wheels in and around the multiple monasteries within and surrounding the village.  Smiling Tibetans warmly wave and spurt forth greetings as one walks the streets.  Thousands of prayer flags have been planted in the hills immediately surrounding villages; they flap in the wind, supposedly sending floating their prayers into the air and constantly blessing the surrounding areas.  These elements and more came together to create an experience unlike any that I have had before in China.

Arrival Day (Pictures for the day)

The first day began with a missed bus to Danba thanks to a landslide, which I mentioned in my previous post. (Now that I am officially safe off of the mountain roads, I can state how fortunate I feel that I chose my particular dates of travel; apparently the landslide led to injuries and deaths.  I don't know the numbers, but I hope there were very few of the latter.)  The closed road, however, turned out to be a benefit for me, because I was able to change my destination, and I had the privilege of riding in a small mini-bus with a very nice Chinese couple.

The first portion of the journey was essentially uphill toward the highest pass between Kangding and the next series of villages.  Based on my brother's experience in Bolivia and Peru about 9 years ago, I was a little bit worried about the extreme discomfort and vomiting resulting from altitude sickness.  However, I was quite relieved when I passed 4,298 meters (about 13,000 ft) without any problems.

After crossing the pass, the jagged peaks of the high mountains gave way to the rolling grasslands that stretch to Tagong and beyond.  As we moved through these green, flower speckled lands we saw a number of tents and houses that were put up by members of the Zang Chinese subculture.  Around these dwellings, Furry Cows (Mao Niu in Chinese) grazed.  Also in these grasslands we began to see bits of Tibetan culture.  The most interesting Tibetan spectacle that we saw on the road was a group of people around a pile of rocks and sticks throwing what looked like giant bits of confetti into the air and cheering as they did.  I still don't know the meaning behind the celebration (It sounded like a celebration), but it was cool to watch.

Shortly after viewing the Tibetans, our driver decided to take a little off-road run which, from time to time crossed the road, but eventually went back off-road.  Surprisingly enough, even though the roads were terrible (only about 3 miles of the whole trip was paved), high enough that a fall would have killed everybody in the car, and occasionally crowded with huge utility vehicles, I felt very safe with the driver that we had on this particular day.  And after about 4 hours of passing through beautiful scenery and stopping periodically to take pictures, we arrived safely in Tagong.

Now, I didn't feel any altitude sickness per se, but once I was off the mini-bus and walking around, I did begin to feel very, very tired.  I was amazed at how similar I felt compared to when I was in Cuzco, Peru; I was also amazed that I remembered the feeling so clearly once I experienced it again.  The altitude in both locations can simply be described as "oppressive."  The lack of oxygen constrains the mind, making it ebb and flow to and from clear consciousness (while also enhancing the bright colors - which are already very bright based on the Tibetan tastes); it also constrains the body, leading to breathlessness when walking even at medium paces - though for some people the physical constraint was so severe that they had difficulty breathing if they laid on their sides, rather than their backs, while sleeping.  For those who are runners, the feeling is somewhat similar to the daze that you feel after running more than 10 miles.

It was in this physical and conscious state that I spent the afternoon.  I had tea with some foreigners who were in the town, took a brief nap, walked around the city taking pictures of the main street and nearby monasteries, and then ate dinner with my tea group.  Even though these activities required minimal expenditures of energy, I was still ready to go to bed at 8:00pm, and I slept until 8:00am the next morning.

Day 2: The First Hike (Pictures for the day)

On the second day, I woke up feeling wonderful and rested.  Hence, I had a quick breakfast and found three people whom I had met in Kangding - Pep, a semi-retired Spaniard; Joseph, a recent graduate of the University of Illinois; and Netta, an Israeli girl who had been traveling for quite some time - and we began a hike to the north of the town.

We spent the majority of our time traversing the paths along the side of a mountain which had a huge patch of prayer flags, telling stories about our travels and taking pictures as we walked.  The paths, for the most part, were fairly simple to cross.  However, given the heights (and probably a little remaining altitude-induced dizziness), there were times that I felt a bit concerned.  I'm sure that the knowledge that hospital care in the area wouldn't be excellent also made me a little more cautious.

However, the views were simply spectacular.  Following grey skies in the morning, the afternoon carried forth patches of blue skies, and we enjoyed every second of sun that we got.  We crossed the mountain, and ate some snacks on a huge flat field, surrounded by grazing horses.  Unfortunately, though, the sun went almost as quickly as it appeared, and by early afternoon, we were making our way back to the city to avoid the coming rain.

More unfortunately, we had crossed a river before we reached the first mountain that we passed, and as we worked our way back toward the village we realized that there was no bridge near our present location.  Luckily for me, I was wearing sandals, and I was able to pick the path through the river for the group; the rest followed after me after removing their hiking boots and rolling up or removing their pants.

We returned to town before the rain began falling hard and spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing.  After the hike, I began to feel the altitude again, and I went to bed very early for the second night in a row.

Day 3: The Second Hike (Pictures for the day)

The second hike was to the south of Tagong.  The hike itself was uneventful (except that we - on this day "we" was Pep, Joseph and me - saw two foxes, a bunch of vultures and a pair of hawks), but we spent the majority of our time on the highest hills near to Tagong. The views from the top of the surrounding world gave us a great feel for the scale and beauty of the area.  Take a look at the pictures in the link above; they'll tell the story better than I can with words alone.

Day 4: The Third Hike (Pictures for the day)

This hike was culturally the most interesting one that we (Pep, Joseph and I) took.  On this day we, were also joined by a Brazilian named Gui and his Chinese girlfriend, Wenwen.  We set off after morning rain showers intending to visit a monastery that Pep, Joseph and I had seen the day before.  However, once we arrived, we were surprised by two things: first, the monastery was unfinished (which allowed us to take some cool pictures), and second, to the north of the monastery was a town which we had not seen or expected to see.

We spent the majority of our time walking through the town, chatting with the locals, and taking pictures of the town and the prayer flags on the hills to the north.  From what we discovered, the town only had a Tibetan name, which I don't remember.  Also, the vast majority of the inhabitants were monks - female monks.

During this particular time of the year, there are 45 days of prayer (I think that number is right) for good health.  We happened to walk through the village on one of the prayer days.  In the center of the city was a huge square (which, we discovered, doubles as a soccer field during non-prayer times) that had more than 600 people inside offering flowers and chanting simultaneously.  I didn't go inside, but I did peak in through the door, and the view was beautiful: people in saffron and brown robes kneeling and spreading huge clusters of flowers over the ground while a man spoke over a microphone, leading the prayer.  I wish I could've taken a picture, but I didn't want to interrupt peoples' concentration to determine if it was permitted.

The final point that I will make regarding this village is related to the friendliness of the people.  While in most locations around China, people predominantly keep to themselves (aside from the occasional "hello" and ensuing giggles after getting the attention of the foreigners), the people who I met in this region were genuinely outgoing and friendly.  Everywhere that our small group of westerners went, we were greeted with waves, the words "Tashi delek" ("Hello" in Tibetan) and big smiles, which often showed a gold tooth or two.  At one point we were even invited into a household when the weather turned bad and given tea, bread, Yak butter and an edible dough.  Even though we were willing to pay for the food that we ate, the head of the household insisted that we not give money.  THAT was a surprise to me after living in this country for three years - everything has a price in eastern China.  It was a very different experience than I was used to!

All of this said, though, I only saw this kindness is directed toward westerners.  Based on other experiences, the same kindness is not generally or consistently directed toward the majority race of (Han) Chinese. It's too bad that, though the travelers who I have met tend to get along with both groups, the two groups have so much difficulty dealing with each other.

After the Hikes

The following day I took off early in the morning to Kangding.  Since then, I have essentially been dealing with administrative stuff: writing, reading, catching up on my blog posts, making my way to Chengdu, and relaxing as I prepare for the rest of my trip.

Later on today, I will be meeting up with two of my friends from Beijing: Jonny and Aaron.  We'll be spending the next 4 days here in Chengdu, and then I'll make my way south toward Hong Kong.

This post should have given you plenty to read for the time being; look for the next one some time in the middle of next week!

Kangding: Thank Goodness for Flexibility

After 4 days of withdrawal from my internet addiction, I have finally returned to Kangding and am able to write again.

When I last left off, I had seen the beautiful eclipse in Kangding.  Later that day, I spent some time walking around the city (see the Kangding Album), which has about 80,000 people and is nestled into the mountains between the city of Chengdu to the east and the Tibetan plateau to the west.  Besides streets of shops, the surrounding mountains, and a raging river that runs through the center of town, Kangding doesn't have much of interest.  Hence, I just took in the scenery as I made my way to buy a ticket to the city of Danba for the next day.

Later in the evening, after I had eaten dinner, I made my way back to the hostel where I was staying.  As I walked up the hill toward the hostel gate, I passed the manager who was carrying a bottle of reddish brown liquid in a water bottle.  He recognized me as a guest, and told me that when we arrived at the hostel we would have to "He yi bei (Have a glass)."  I asked him what the liquid was, and he explained that it was moonshine that he had picked up from a friend.  Awesome.

We arrived soon enough, and food and large Dixie Cups awaited us.  The first cup was filled all the way to the brim (the liquid within probably being equivalent to 5 shots), and the boss attempted to pass it to me.  Sensing imminent disaster - and very aware of the fact that I had to wake up at 5:30am the next morning to catch my bus - I immediately grabbed for a new cup and quickly filled it one-third full.  With that gesture, I had saved my own liver and set the stage for an interesting night, since the full glass then defaulted to the boss.

What followed was a series of "Gan bei(s)" (the Chinese equivalent of "cheers"), and the inevitable sloppiness that ensued.  What began as a discussion of the beauty of the area and the differences between the Chinese and English languages quickly gave way to discussion of the relative attractiveness of Chinese women and men in various parts of the country, as well as the compulsory drunken "I love you, mans!"  Of course, the drop in quality was instigated and perpetuated by our fearless leader with the full Dixie Cup.

Thanks to my earlier decision to serve myself, I was spared the drunkenness, but I was not spared from the taste of the disgusting brew.  For those who have drunk the Chinese rice liquor called Baijiu, imagine that diluted with vodka.  For those who haven't had the privilege, imagine taking all of the 80+ proof white alcohol at a bar, mixing it together in equal amounts, and then adding a splash of spiced rum for color.  That would probably be a decent approximation.

Hence, with a foul taste in my mouth, but feeling pretty content, I went to bed.  My bus was due to depart at 7:00am the next morning, and just to be safe, I woke up at 5:30.  The staff at my hostel assured me that I would be able to catch a cab to the train station.  However, after descending to the road at 6:10 and waiting for more than 10 minutes - in the rain, of course - with no success, I began to feel uneasy. Therefore, I began to walk towards the bus station (which, in total, would be a 1 hour walk . . .eek).  As I walked, I still saw no taxis, and I started to become very nervous.  Trying my best to disregard the huge backpack that I had on, I began to trot, and then as I still saw no taxis, I began to run.  Now I was a runner in high school, but we didn't run with 30 pounds of stuff on our backs, nor did we run at 2,600 meters in altitude, so this was tough.  However, at 6:50pm (and about a ten minute run from the bus station), I finally found a cab.  My clothes were soaked from the outside with rain and from the inside with sweat, but I would make my bus on time.  Excellent.

Well, not really excellent.  After frantically running through the bus station and not finding anything headed toward Danba, I asked around and found that my bus was cancelled.  As it turns out, there was a landslide on the road between Kangding and Danba; no buses would be going there for several days.  Welcome to China.

At least I got my money back.

After returning to the hostel, I found that other people were scheduled to ride on the same bus, and they were arranging a mini-bus to Danba (on a different road).  However, by then my fickle mind had already set its sights on Tagong, a different city, so I decided to go there instead.  I love traveling flexibly.

I was planning to write about Tagong today as well, but this post is already becoming long, and I am leaving for hot springs in about an hour, so Tagong will have to wait for another day.  However, if you're absolutely itching to see the beauty of the Tibetan plateau (at least the part in Western Sichuan), you can check out the Tagong photo album right now.

Chengdu and an Unexpected Once in a Lifetime Experience

As a quick note to those who skim: if you want to see the unexpected experience (it's cool!), be sure to read the last paragraph.

The internet gods have been good to me, and even as I move into more remote parts of China, I continue to have access to the web.  Hurray!

After the unreasonably long train which originated in Xi'an, I finally arrived in Chengdu at 5:30am, one day later than I was supposed to.  I was exhausted and spent the morning sleeping before starting my travels around the city.

In case you want to follow this description with pictures, here is the updated Chengdu album.

My first stop in Chengdu was the main shopping area on a street called Chunxi Lu.  Since I had no need to purchase any brand name apparel, I went straight to lunch.  Wanting to sample the local Sichuan (spicy) flavor, I ordered a Kung Pao Chicken (Gong Bao Ji Ding), and replaced the chicken with shrip.  The food was delicious.  However, I was more than a little bothered to discover, when the bill arrived, that replacing chicken with shrimp increased the price of the meal by 71% - not a trivial amount.  Just another reminder that if I let my guard down for 5 minutes in this country, I end up paying for it.

With my belly full and my wallet lightened, I took a walk across the center of town, stopping to take some pictures of the giant Mao statue in the center of town and ultimately arriving in People's Park.  It was Saturday afternoon, and the park was just crazy!  There was a swarm of people who tended to congregate around separate performances that were all going on simultaneously.   At one point, to my left there was an old man doing a comical set of motions that I would describe as a "shoulder dance" - his shoulders went back and forth, up and down, and side to side as he danced around the ring formed by his crowd of onlookers; to my right (and competing with his dance music) was a woman performing a solo song. She was certainly singing her heart out, so much so that the poor tiny speakers connected to her microphone buzzed discordantly as she belted out her notes.  Further to the right was another crowd surrounding what seemed like a family act who that was performing some form of a variety show while waving Chinese flags.  In between these crowds, people danced, exercised and practiced martial arts.  The videos in my Chengdu album attempt to capture the crazyness of this whole experience.

I caught the bus home from the near the park after enjoying the scene.  Thanks to the travel, the heat and the full day of walking around, I was pretty beat, and after booking a seat on a bus to Leshan for the next morning, I went to bed.

The trip to Leshan began simply enough. I was sharing a bus with two dutch people, two Americans and one Chinese girl who was dating the other male American.  We arrived after about 2.5 hours on bumpy roads and walked into the park, which turned out to be a Buddha sculpture theme park of sorts.  From what I could tell, only two large Buddhas and about 2,000 small Buddhas were original to that location. However, it seems that an interesting decision was made: to re-sculpt copies of more than 20 other Buddha statues from around China and place them all in this park.  As we walked through the caves and pathways looking at the various statues, my travel companions and I all agreed that it was quite odd seeing real ancient carved Buddhas interspersed between many copies, which could not have been carved more than 50 years ago.

The highlight of the whole Leshan experience, though, was the Dafu (Great Buddha).  And it was a GREAT Buddha!  Absolutely huge!  Take a look at the pictures if you want an idea of how big it was (there is one of me next to his foot; that will give some good scale).  Seeing the Great Buddha was amazing, but unfortunately the experience was rendered bittersweet thanks to the fact that the line to walk down near the Great Buddha's feet lasted nearly 1.5 hours - and the day was hot and humid with a temp that was most likely above 90 degrees ferenheit.  Nonetheless, our party of six made the most of the situation, entertaining ourselves and taking lots of pictures.

After departing the park and eating a delicious and spicy Sichuan style lunch, we made are way back to Chengdu.  We arrived, took much needed showers and then Tina (the Chinese girl) introduced me and the other two Americans to a new type of Hot Pot.  For those who don't know, Hot Pot is a special style of cooking where a giant pot is filled with water, oils, spices, and other flavors.  To this brew you add additional food that you order, usually meats, fish, vegetables, tofu, and mushrooms.  This particular type of Hot Pot was the Nanjing style, and in addition to all of the normal elements, rice was added.  I don't know if it was the spices, the rice; or if I was especially hungry, tired, or just drunk, but this Hot Pot was by far the best that I have had during my years in China.  Thus, returning to my hostel extremely content - and tired from the day - I went to bed.

The next and final day in Chengdu (though I will stop their again as I leave the mountains) was a simple day of sightseeing and food.  I started out in an area called Wuhouci, visiting a shopping street full of chuan(r)s, or what I like to call "stick food," because it is just food on a stick.  I ate some delicious squid and a strange pickled vegetable sandwich.  After that, I took a brief trip to a temple that was built to honor the heroes from the Three Kingdoms period in Chinese History.  Following that, I relaxed for a few hours in the park surrounding the cottage of the Tang Dynasty poet Du Fu.  The pictures will do a better job than me of explaining what both of these areas included, so you can check them out if you want.  Following those two trips, I had a delicious Sichuan style (extremely spicy!) Hot Pot dinner with a couple of people who I had met in Xi'an before heading back to my hostel to get some sleep.

The next day was a full-day bus ride from Chengdu to Kangding.  Pictures and a full description of Kangding will be up later.  

Before this post is done, I have to introduce one more photo album that is a result of pure coincidence (a quick thanks to my buddy Alvaro for alerting me to the situation).  As luck would have it, while I was in Kangding, the city was in the narrow band of earth that experienced a full solar eclipse!  The sky wasn't perfectly clear, but I still got some good shots; the 25 pictures with captions (located here) will guide you through the whole experience, which lasted about 2 hours.  Hope you enjoy it!

Off to the Mountains!

After several days of hanging around in Chengdu, I have finally gotten my act together and booked my trip to the Himalaya Mountains in the West of Sichuan.  From what I hear, the Internet (and even electricity) can be spotty out there, so I may not be able to share my Chengdu post as quickly as I would like to.  However, once the story is finished and I get back online, I'll be sure post.

In the meantime, I have updated the Xi'an album with a couple of new pictures, and I have created a new Chengdu album which you can check out if you're just itching to see what Sichuan is like.

Two Days in Xi'an

Greetings!

I have departed Xi'an after spending two days in one of the ancient capitals of China.  My journey through Xi'an was quite relaxed since it is a small town with only a few key sights that I wanted to visit, but it was fun nonetheless.  Before I get into the details, the photos can be found in my Xi'an album.

On the train between Beijing and Xi'an, I began to recognize that my Chinese language skills would be a larger asset on this trip than they were in Beijing – where I was just another foreigner who speaks some Chinese – when the ticket collectors, after collecting my tickets and chatting with me for a while, came back to request my assistance translating for some English girls in the room next to mine.  The translator role continued after I arrived in Xi'an the next morning when I had to help the girls to book their train tickets and hostel while I booked my own.  The whole experience was a bit strange; I was surprised that the girls seemed a bit shocked that the Xi'an train station did not have a special ticket window for English speakers as the Beijing station did.  Welcome to China culture (and language) shock.

Next, I checked into my charming courtyard hostel and had my daily caffeine as I waited for my room to open.  Once my predecessor had checked out and I moved my stuff into the room, I began a four-hour trek around the city.

A bit of orientation before explaining where I went:  the central part of Xi'an – where almost all of the points of interest are located – is confined within a rebuilt city wall.  The city has a very clear north-south axis.  Along that axis are the north and south gates to the city as well as a bell tower, which is located just south of the north-south midpoint of the city.  To the west of the bell tower is a drum tower, a shopping district, lots of restaurants, and a Muslim quarter.  To the east and south of the bell tower are residential areas and roads full of stalls selling artwork, trinkets and other tourist supplies.  In the north of the city within the walls are residential with supporting businesses and a number of small parks.

I started off my walk with a local girl with whom I never exchanged names.  We walked due south along the north-south axis of the city and chatted about my experiences in China, the differences between American cities and Chinese cities, and the places that I should see in Xi'an.  Meanwhile, we did our best to avoid oncoming traffic and the huge holes in the roads that were being reconstructed.  Once we arrived at the center of the city, she continued on to her final destination and I turned west to find food.

I walked through the shopping district and onto one of the main food streets that was full of small kiosks selling food.  Despite the fact that the street food looked interesting, I decided to slip into a restaurant and order one of my traditional favorite dishes – fried eggs and tomatoes with rice.  As usual, it didn't disappoint.

After my stomach was full, I continued my walk to the south gate of the city.  Unfortunately, the price to get up onto the wall was some unreasonable amount (in China, if there is an experience that can be monetized, it will be monetized), so I decided walk around the edge of the wall.  That turned out to be a bit boring, since there were essentially no people next to the wall on the inside of the city, but I eventually stumbled across a small shopping street.  Based on my experiences in Beijing, I wanted to get out of the shopping area as quickly as possible because I wasn't in the mood to deal with a never-ending string of "HELLOS!", "I GIVE YOU BEST PRICE", and "YOU WANT CHINESE [insert mass-produced Chinese cultural object]?"  However, I was surprised to find that the salespeople in Xi'an were very quiet not only by Chinese standards, but even by conservative Western European standards.  Nobody yelled at me.  It was quite relaxing; hence, I looked around for a bit.

The most interesting part of my walk, however was "getting lost" in the residential areas of Xi'an.  Beijing is a very developed city, at least in the areas that I frequented.  However, Xi'an had many areas which lies off the well-beaten tourist track that showed the, let's call it "non-glossy," side of China.  Old unpainted communist block apartments, empty buildings that were once home to a business that had failed, brick homes with dirt floors: these are the sides of China that I didn't see often in Beijing, and it was interesting to see them now.  I even caught a glimpse of a garbage collection area, which was essentially a temporary landfill in the middle of the city.

After seeing these "normal" parts of the city, I began my walk back to the hostel (which is located in the north of the city, slightly to the east of the central axis).  Along the way, I saw a bookstore and couldn't help buying a couple of novels.  I arrived back at the hostel and took a short rest before going on another walk through a nearby park (I get great exercise when I'm traveling!).

The evening was very relaxed.  I spent it chatting with people and reading before going to bed early.

The next morning was the big travel day.  After having my morning coffee, I hopped a bus which would take me to see the Terracotta warriors.  After an hour or so, I had arrived, bought a ticket, and was on my way into the museum.

My general impressions:

1. It was really cool,
2. The construction required a lot of time and effort, and
3. I expected more.

Perhaps the third impression is unfair.  However, China has lots of big and impressive things.  By far the most impressive is the Great Wall, and based on all of the hype about the Terracotta Warriors, I was expecting something that would give me an impression similar to the one that the Great Wall gave me.  Eight thousand stone warriors, though very impressive, doesn't match the grandeur of the Wall.  The other big negative is that you cannot get very close to the stone soldiers, unless they are behind glass.

That said, I am still glad that I went – as general impression number 1 would imply.  Even though I'm not much of a history guy, the most interesting aspect of this collection of artifacts was the story of its creation.  For full details you can check the Wikipedia entry, but what follows is the abridged version.  Essentially the warriors were constructed so that China's first emperor, when he died, could rule the afterlife with this massive stone army that was built throughout his lifetime (the process began when he was 13 years old).  And he didn't only have warriors constructed, he also had horses, chariots, and weaponry buried with the warriors – apparently the soldiers would be able to fight in the afterlife, but they wouldn't be able to make new weapons or ammunition.  Moreover, once the pits were filled with the warriors, the artisans who helped to finish the project on-site were killed because the emperor did not want anybody to know the location of his tomb (which actually is not surrounded by the warriors . . . weird), or of his afterlife army.

The part of this story that interests me is how it just doesn't seem to add up logically.  I won't even go into the superstition of it all, but here are what seem to be the facts:  Emperor forces artisans to spend a huge amount of time building soldiers and weapons to protect him and fight for him in the afterlife.  He hides the army away from everybody in the real world and kills the people who know where the army is located (though apparently not everybody, because a general broke into the pits and set them on fire not too long after the emperor's death).  Then he buries himself a good distance away from his afterlife soldiers.  I just don't get it.  How is he going to command the army?  They didn't have walkie-talkies or phones or the internet.  Maybe he has some stone messengers running between the stone army and his burial hill that haven't been discovered yet?  Or maybe the historians got the story wrong?  Or maybe I just have a bad memory?  It just seems strange.

Anyway, after seeing all of the pits full of warriors and whatnot, which you can see too by checking my Xi'an album, I returned the city, ate some lunch, and took a quick nap.

The remainder of Xi'an was not too eventful, as in there were no major events.  I spent the last night hanging out with some people who I met in the hostel.  We had some drinks, talked about the places that we had seen and where we were going, and watched Slumdog Millionaire.  The next morning, I took care of some unfinished grad school business, and I caught my train to Chengdu at 1:20pm.

The train ride was supposed arrive at 5:30am the next day (July 17), but here I am on the train at 10:14am (the train is standing still and has been for at least 40 minutes) and I have a feeling that we are still hundreds of miles from Chengdu.  Apparently there was a problem with the train tracks which connect Xi'an to Chengdu, so we have to take a very indirect route (As an aside, HURRAY!  The train just started moving again!).  I have my fingers crossed that we arrive before 8:00pm tonight.  Looks like I'll get some good use out of those books that I bought in Xi'an.

I'll leave it there for now.  The next writings should be posted after I finish up in Chengdu!

UPDATE: I finally arrived in Chengdu at 5:00am two days after I left.  Total time on the train: 39 hours.  Total delay: Approximately 24 hours.  I'm glad I got a hard-sleeper instead of being hard core and going for the regular seats!

Yunnan: Lijiang and Dali

My parents' and my trip to Yunnan began with a full day of travel.  Luckily for us, this was the first full day of rain that we experienced, and we were on the road for almost all of it.  We rented a car which left the Ping An parking lot at 10:00am to catch a flight which left at 2:45pm.  Then we arrived in Kunming, an industrial city and the main transportation hub in Yunnan, with enough time to buy overnight bus tickets, eat dinner, then return to the bus station to depart for the city of Lijiang, where we would arrive the next morning at 5:45am.  Added up: 19 hours and 45 minutes of travel.  Yeehaw!

The overnight bus proved to be the most exciting part of the trip.  We hopped onto the bus about an hour before departure and we saw that not only were my parents, as my dad noted, "the oldest people on the bus," but they were also, as my mom noted, "the only old people on the bus."  I remember this distinction clearly because my mom corrected my dad's observation on at least two separate occasions.  I believe that this was mom's passive-aggressive way of saying, "I don't think that dad and I really belong(ed) on the bus." 

Mom was probably right to correct dad for two reasons.  One, the next youngest person on the bus was probably 20 years younger than she was, and two, that night was, without a doubt, the bumpiest sleeping experience that I have ever endured.  Actually, writing that last sentence made me smile a bit.  I mean think about it: when was the last time that you used the adjective "bumpy" to describe the experience of sleeping.  Probably never.  And there's a good reason for that.  To illustrate the reason, I'll paint a little visual picture for you.  You're lying in your bed, eyes closed, hugging your day pack with your valuables stored safely within (more on that later), with the soothing hum of a bus engine lulling you to sleep.  You close your eyes and you start to drift off.  Sinking deeper, deeper into a calm and soothing – HOLY CRAP!  YOU'RE IN THE AIR!  In fact you've bounced so high that you almost cleared the guard rail in your bunk and dropped 4 feet to the aisle that is narrower than your shoulders.  The adrenaline rush has, in less than one second, brought you to a state of alertness that the strongest cup of coffee you can imagine couldn't hope to match.  But on the bright side, since you are awake, it doesn't really matter anymore that you're continuing to bounce around like an ant riding on the back of a happy Chihuahua.  You can now hold on to that guard rail – the one that you almost cleared a few seconds ago.

 As if that weren't enough to keep me up, my parents had read in our trusty Lonely Planet guidebook that, from time to time, traveler's bags get cut with razors or stolen from the overnight busses.  Hence, my paranoia began to kick in.  I was able to remove all of my expensive stuff from the large backpack and fit it into my small day pack, which I literally cuddled with throughout the night.  However, even that didn't give me peace of mind.  My backpack was tucked way out of sight underneath the bus.  That wouldn't have been a major problem but for two issues.  First, and most importantly, there is only one drawback to having a high-quality, comfortable backpack: it is worth more than all of the stuff inside of it.  Hence, you do not want it to get hurt or stolen.  Second, Chinese bus drivers have this inexplicable tendency to stop the bus for 10 to 30 minutes every 200 miles or so.  To my paranoid mind, 10 to 30 minutes was just enough time for thieves to show up, open the bag compartment, look for the nicest bag in there (mine), and run off with it after razoring my parents bags just to spite me for being a cheep son that brought ("the only") old people onto the bumpy, impossible-to-sleep-on overnight bus.  So long story short, I was up not only as a result of periodic, momentary hovering above my bed, but also as result of my neurotic need to watch the luggage compartment whenever the driver needed to relieve himself, elevate the nicotine content in his blood, or just stand around for 20 minutes.

All of the worrying was for naught because we, and our bags, arrived safe and sound the next morning in Lijiang.  We found a very pleasant courtyard hotel and spent the morning recovering from our tough night on the road.  In the afternoon, my dad and I took a walk through Lijiang's old city (see the photos - full Yunnan album here - for pictures of the cobblestone streets, ancient architecture and interconnected alleyways) before meeting my mom for dinner and going to bed.

As a quick note: the remainder of links in this post will point directly to individual photos, so you can follow my descriptions while looking at images.

During our next day, I rented a bike and my parents rented a scooter to take a trip to the town of Baisha , about 20 kilometers (~12 miles) outside of Lijiang.  The town is supposed to be famous for the ancient frescos on the walls of the courtyard homes.  However, after walking through the entire town, we only saw two "frescos" which looked like they had been painted in the early 2000s.  It was a bit disappointing, but the bike ride was still fun.

When we returned home, we met Jaques (a South African) and Paula (a Polish girl) who decided to share a car with us the next day on our trip to Tiger Leaping Gorge.  We took off at nine in the morning and within three hours we had arrived at the Gorge.  As my dad described it in his email:

The name [Tiger Leaping Gorge] comes from a story of a tiger being hunted that escapes by leaping from stone to stone over a gorge on the Yangtze River.  The river actually looks like a massive Starbucks mocha.  It is heavily laden with silt and narrows in the gorge to a frothing, splashing surge of water

In addition to his description, I would add that in order to arrive at the key scenic spot one must pass through a series of man-made caves that are quite cool.  Also, the surrounding mountains are gorgeous (Was that a pun?  I think so.).

On the way back to Lijiang we had an interesting experience with food.  We stopped at a restaurant which didn't have a menu.  In lieu of that, we walked into a room full of vegetables and pointed at what we wanted.  I was a little suspicious of the situation because I've been living in China for 3 years now and I've only once been to a restaurant that had no menu (it was a bed and breakfast) , but we were feeling adventurous so we decided to stay.  We selected our vegetables and asked about meat.  The fish were too expensive, but the chicken was cheap.  We opted for the chicken, saying we wanted a little one.  A minute later, a girl walked in with a live and fully-feathered chicken flapping its wings .  The girl weighed the chicken and it quickly became apparent that she was planning to kill it right in front of our eyes, which upset our friend Paula a bit.  Luckily we stopped the girl before the killing began and she took it to another room so that the meat eaters in the room could continue to compartmentalize the living chickens and the delicious meat without ever having to visually connect the two thoughts.  After we had ordered, we patiently awaited our food.  The vegetable dishes came first and everybody seemed to enjoy them.  Then the chicken dishes came.  That was a bit different.

If you're sensitive to verbal imagery, you might want to skip this paragraph because I'm going to describe how the chicken was probably prepared.  The bird arrived in two separate dishes: one with vegetables and one with soup.  When we saw the Chicken it wasn't quite like what we imagined it would be.  Essentially, it seemed that, after killing the chicken, the preparers plucked its feathers, laid it onto a cutting board, and chopped it up with a meat clever, which cleaved off successive slices from head to foot.  Hence, the remaining product was cross-sections of the chicken, with all of the skin, meat, bone, and blood vessels which one could easily see and easily feel in one's mouth when biting or chewing.  The meat eaters were clearly disgusted by the non-vegetarian food, but when asked by our guide about the quality, they politely and euphemistically described the food as "unusual."  Sometimes it's good to be a vegetarian .

With that experience under our belts, we were ready to move on to our next location: Dali.  The old city of Dali is an ancient walled city which, over the years, has become a haven for backpackers who travel through China.  To the east of the city is Erhai lake and to the west are the towering Jade Green Mountains.  It's got everything except the ocean, and it's beautiful.

Almost as soon as we arrived in the old city, we ran into a British woman and an American woman.  We asked them how far away the center of town was.  They explained it wasn't very far and then politely told us that they were the owners of a brand new guest house which was located just around the corner from where we currently were.  I think that after the chicken experience and the resulting gastrointestinal discomfort, my dad was longing for home and excited to be interacting with English speakers, so he jumped at the opportunity.  We ended up staying all four nights in that location: the Sleepy Fish .  This turned out to be a good decision because the place was clean and quiet, and the women who ran the place were extremely funny and interesting.  Oh, and we also found a little pet.

The Dali portion of the trip was mostly about relaxing and recharging, but there were three highlights.  The first was taking a day trip with a hired driver.  Our final destination was a market, but on the way we had the driver show us around the villages surrounding Dali.  We saw people drying fish on the streets, took a walk on a peninsula that juts out into Erhai lake, drove through narrow alleys of the villages, and visited a tie-dye factory.  Each of those experiences had its unique local flair, and it was a truly fun time (which was a good thing, because when we finally arrived at our final destination, the market, it was kinda lame).

The second excellent experience was an 11Km (~6.5 mile) hike along a path on top of the Jade Green Mountains.  We got to ride a chair lift to the top of the mountain and a cable car down.  In between those two rides was pure beauty (the pictures begin here and you can click through until you see the gecko).  The views were the coolest part of this experience, so I won't describe it any further.

The final Dali highlight was the bike trip that I took with my dad (mom couldn't bike because her hip was recovering from surgery) to some of the sights and villages around Dali.  We were constantly worried that it was going to rain, but we ended up completely dry throughout the whole trip.  This was good because riding bikes through the narrow and labyrinthine alleys of ancient Chinese mountain and lakeside villages gave us views of day-to-day life in a setting much more rural than Beijing and tourist cities.  Biking past a small village market; seeing young boys climbing into and out of parked boats and searching for frogs; watching a "traffic jam" that involved only one car, a bicycle and a few pedestrians in a narrow alley: these were things that we just could not see if we just visiting tourist traps, and they were some of the more interesting sights that I saw throughout the whole trip.  (Pictures of the bike trip begin here and end just before the picture of the people at the monastery burning incense.)

After finishing in Dali, we took a bus to Kunming and spent our final day there.  We had a very relaxing day. We walked through a park on the evening of the first day.  After sleeping in until about 11:00am, we had brunch, visited a preserved monastery and then finished the afternoon walking through the Kunming zoo (not a bad zoo - I rarely felt depressed about the animal's living conditions).  Following that, we had our last meal in Yunnan, which happened to be western - like almost all of the meals that we had after the chicken experience - and we caught our flight back to Beijing.

My parents' remaining two days in Beijing were a whirlwind tour.  My parents met my ex-bosses and my team members from HighTeam; we went shopping, and we packed a bunch of clothing and books that I would send home with my parents in extra suitcases.  At the end of all of the travel and guiding, I was exhausted, but it was an amazing trip.  I'm extremely happy that I was able to spend the time with my parents.

This has become a huge, huge post, and I don't think you want to read about me wrapping up loose ends and closing out my apartment, so I'll leave it here.  On Monday, July 13, I'll be taking the night train to Xi'an and I'll be posting periodically about my experiences there and on the road after that.

Photos from Guangxi Province

Hello everybody!  I have returned to Beijing and have finally had time to upload and comment on the photos from the first part of my parents' and my journey.  Both places (Yangshuo and Ping An) were extremely beautiful.  Enjoy!

http://picasaweb.google.com/ngpinger/GuangxiProvince#

Also, I am busy working on the post for the second part of our journey - Yunnan province.  I'll be posting that ASAP!