In light of the latest travel regulations for foreigners
(see last entry), I vowed I would curtail my travels so as to not incur any
more expensive hotel charges. However, I had promised Alan, a dear young man I
befriended via ChinaDaily's blog page, that I would visit his home town this
summer. Never make a promise you can't keep being my motto – well, one
of them, I made arrangements for a 3-day stay in Guiyang (pronounced g'way
yahng), even though I didn't particularly feel like traveling or visiting,
after hearing those outrageous disclosures of Sam's.
You might be interested to know: I am a contributing writer
to ChinaDaily's op-ed and blog page. If you are interested, here is the link: http://blog.chinadaily.com.cn/space-uid-1372409.html
Alan offered to put me up at his sister's house. I could
have avoided paying for a hotel by staying there, but it was of paramount
importance to me to find a room. You see, I'd done that before: accepted an
invitation to someone's home, only to be taken prisoner, even if the cage was
gilded and my keeper most solicitous and well-meaning. (see Country Chicken
entry, posted August, 2013). Also, it is difficult to endure the scrutiny of a
people who have never seen a foreigner, up close and personal. Everything, down
to bathroom habits, gets observed and discussed.
NOTE: that's when I called around, and found that foreigners
can only stay at 4- and 5-star hotels, as reported in the Touchdown in Beijing
entry.
I was able to find lodging in one of the 2 hostels that city
boasts. I 'let' Sam help me arrange everything including train tickets, seeing
as he was going to report in anyway. After all, he has a virtual wallet and can
pay for everything online.
Can you tell I am very angry about that?
Alan was dismayed that I would not stay at his sister's
house and attempted to cancel my room reservation. Only disclosing that Gary
had paid for the room with his business credit card and would be able to write
my trip off on his taxes kept Alan from ensuring I would have no choice but to
occupy a room at his sister's.
Ok, so the bit with Gary paying for everything was a lie
(but the part about him writing my travel off as a tax deduction is true. This
is not necessarily dishonest because I have traveled for Gary's business in the
past and, apparently it is acceptable to help somebody's business). I feel
justified in telling this lie because otherwise, I would be under fire and
uncomfortable.
It seems China and her people have put me on the defensive.
How sad!
In spite of the overall disappointment in my staying
elsewhere, everyone was happy to meet me, and all of the standard questions and
preconceived notions about foreigners applied. That first evening, only
immediate family came to the luscious dinner prepared by Alan's sister, the
lovely Olivia, and I was treated to an argument between Alan's parents because
Mom had not heard her phone when Dad called. It was funny and touching all at the
same time, to watch them go at it. Obvious concern on Dad's part, irritation on
Mom's because Dad always calls, and woven through their harsh sounding words,
evidence of the deep love they share.
I say 'harsh sounding words' because Alan's parents speak
only their local dialect. Whenever they engaged me, Alan or his sister had to
translate. I got what I did of their disagreement from body language.
The next day, the whole family would turn out for a barbecue
at a nearby park. Although the distance was not great it took forever to get
there because the road was either too narrow and potholed to be careened down,
or it was under construction and we constantly had to stop for heavy equipment
or oncoming traffic. I worried that the food Olivia's husband had prepared – a
lot of it meat, would spoil in the heat or get coated by the dust flying around
the open-windowed van.
Olivia and her husband raised the family from poverty
single-handedly. She ended her schooling after compulsory requirements were
met, when she was fourteen years old. She then left her village to make her
fortune in the big city. For several years she sent most of her money home from
whatever work she could find: cleaning hotel rooms, clerking in shops, selling
vegetables at the farmer's market.
That's where she met her husband. He had a fledgling
business, supplying one hotel restaurant with fresh fruits and veggies. They
soon fell in love and married, and now service 4 major hotels. They both get up
around 2AM to get the best picks from the farmer's market where Olivia used to
work in order to fulfill by 6 AM the orders the hotels call in the evening
before.
This is a woman of valor. In telling this story, Alan
confided that, prior to Olivia's hard work, they lived in a one-room dirt hut,
deep in the country. He acknowledges that he would not even be attending
college were it not for his sister. She deserves the pedestal Alan puts her on.
I am honored to know her.
And the family enjoys the wealth and status this couple
provides. Olivia's husband, a cheerful, rotund man, amateur chef, purveyor of
this bounty, returned home from his deliveries with several kilos of meat and
fish, which he marinated prior to leaving the house. In typical Chinese
fashion, a shopping bag serves as both a mixing bowl and transport container,
without the benefit of a cooler. Thus my concern for the meat getting
contaminated before we had a chance to eat.
My fears proved unfounded. The amateur chef cooked while the
rest of us cavorted. The first few portions went, of course, to the foreigners:
Jared – Alan's friend, and I. Once assured we were enjoying our meal, the rest
of the family tucked in. A few even enjoyed my contributions: potato salad,
corn bread and peanut butter cookies, carefully conveyed from my home in a
cooler.
The park boasted many wonders: a dam, a playground for kids
and even a temple, high atop the mountain. Another, less pleasing wonder was
the garbage being strewn about. In fact, a group that was leaving the picnic
area as we arrived actually left all of the garbage from their meal on the
ground and on the tables they occupied!
As is my habit, especially when out in nature, I started
picking up litter. Not from that now forlorn looking area, but from the paths
we were walking and around our site. Immediately, the bag I was collecting
garbage in was taken from me: “there are people whose job it is to clean up.
You don't have to do it!”
How can China expect her youth to learn respect for the
environment if the adults treat it that way?
We had 5 children in our group. I thought this would be a
great teaching opportunity. I took Alan aside and explained why I was picking
up garbage. He agreed with me, vowing to explain my actions to his clan, and
offering to help me clean up.
I don't know if he actually did reveal my mindset because he
spoke in his family's native dialect. I do know that, come the end of our time
at the park, I was ushered away from the picnic area with reassurances that
everyone else will do the clean up. As we left that area, Alan's hand firmly on
my back – presumably to keep me from turning around, I noticed the pigsty area
from the first group had yet to be cleaned up. And, when the rest of our group
appeared at the parking lot mere minutes after we got there, I couldn't help
but doubt that our area had been policed at all.
“When in Rome...” and all that is not a valid excuse for
tolerating environmental abuse. But there was nothing I could do about it,
except savor the bitter taste the experience left me with.
That, and look forward to Monkey Mountain, tomorrow's
planned excursion.
No comments:
Post a Comment