Normal, Usual

I’m back to my normal, usual laid back lifestyle of puttering around the house or around town, riding buses and teaching my 6 hours worth of class. Actually, I haven’t started teaching class yet because my first class isn’t till Wednesday. I’m not puttering around the house too much either: the house is too cold and the heating systems are too inefficient and too expensive to use.

I am going out and riding buses though. That is a nifty pastime. And suddenly I recall…

I wanted to tell you about this long distance bus I took from Shi Shou back to Wuhan! Talk about a cool bus.

Since arriving in China I have seen these buses storm by, where people aboard the bus are laying down. The buses are outfitted with bunks instead of seats, so that, on a long trip you can recline, sleep or just lounge around. I have wanted to ride such a bus for as long as I’ve known they exist.

My first attempt was in returning from Xi’an. The train tickets were all sold out. Why not try to buy a bus ticket? At that time my language skills were not sufficient to negotiate such a transaction so I enlisted Ken, my Xi’an based friend to help me. He turned from the ticketing window, dismayed. A ride on such a bus would cost me over 300Yuan. By comparison a train ticket was about 100Yuan cheaper. I opted for the train but had to select a different day to travel. Still, I never forgot about those buses.

And now it seems, through no design or planning of my own that I will be a passenger on just such a bus! I’m so excited.

The bus is outfitted with 36 bunks. They are arranged in 3 rows, 12 bunks to a row and in two layers – top and bottom. The bottom bunks are virtually at floor level while the top bunks command a nice window view. Two narrow aisles between the rows of bunks lend access to the rear of the coach. A handy map, positioned by the driver indicates the bunk layouts.

I was assigned bunk 19, a top bunk on the left side of the bus. To get down the narrow aisle I had to turn sideways; I am a bit wider than Ye Average Chinese. I hope my size will not cause any discomfort on my bunk.

No need to worry! The bunks are set up in such a way that one’s torso is at a 45 degree angle, designed in such a way that your upper body support becomes a cubby for the person behind you to put their feet or store their goods… a bit like a NASA berth. Each bunk has its own linens provided, to include a quilt and a sheet over the thin pad that serves as a mattress.

In theory the passengers are supposed to remove their shoes before tucking themselves in. Two plastic bags are provided for shoe storage. My boots are too cumbersome to lace and unlace in such narrow confines so I simply put a plastic bag over each of my feet and tucked myself into bed with my shoes on.

My larger than ‘average Chinese’ size did cause me some discomfort, mostly because of my feet. Had I taken my shoes off it would have been easier to maneuver my feet into some kind of comfortable position. However, my boots resisted conforming to the molded shape they were confined to so I did have to struggle some to settle in. The next challenge was to arrange my quilt in such a way that I would be covered. There really is not much room on those cots!

I’ve wriggled my way into several acceptable positions. Finding a comfortable position is not going to be as hard as I expected. Now to dig out my book and spend the 6 hour bus ride reading. NOTE: I would have spent the time looking out the window but it was dark out already, and the bus window was too dirty for me to see much of anything.

Just as I was getting settled in the bus driver turned out all the lights and started driving. OK… now to dig out my book and my flashlight and spend some quality time reading.

I didn’t get much reading in. Seems like constant visiting and rounds of company and touring left me wrung out. I was asleep before the bus even properly left Shi Shou. And I remained asleep until the driver turned the lights back on and declared we were in Wuhan. It was 1AM.

The city buses weren’t running, and no taxis to be found. I didn’t even know where in Wuhan I was! I spied a sign for a chain hotel that had a branch just 200 meters away. I slogged myself down a dark street, rented a room and continued my slumber.

Comparing these long distance buses to traveling for hours on Greyhound, I think I prefer these ‘bunk’ buses. Although the seats aboard a Greyhound are a bit more amenable to someone of my size and girth, the ‘bunk bus’ allowed for a reclining position and no one infringed on my space. As always, in spite of the dire warnings by all by Chinese friends, I have no fear for my safety or my belongings. I have yet to be bothered in any way while traveling in China… unless you mean because someone wants to practice their English.

I would travel on such a bus again. Next time I believe I will plan on footwear that is easier to slip on and off. Other than that, it was a pretty nifty experience!

And Now, Shi Shou

Martin is an avid and conscientious host. He is so conscientious he called me several times on the bus, sent me text messages and was even there to greet me before I actually got off the bus. He then walked me through the village, introducing me to most everyone there. It seems he is, in some manner or fashion kin to most everyone who lives there.

Shi Shou has one claim to fame. In 2009 a hotel chef was allegedly murdered by government officials to ensure his silence with regard to corrupt dealings these official workers undertook within the walls of that establishment. Two days of rioting followed. The parents of Tu Yuangao refused to allow their son’s body to be removed, demanding an investigation into his death. The police refused to investigate, stating that the young man had committed suicide. They offered the parents money provided they would sign a statement acknowledging their son’s death by his own hand. The parents refused. More citizens joined them in blocking entry to the hotel. During the debacle, the establishment was torched. Tu’s body was finally removed and cremated, and no money was ever paid to the family. The controversy still rages, with the family and most of the villagers believing their son was murdered, while the police assiduously keep a lid on any uprisings with regard to the skirmish. The whole incident is a blemish on the town’s peaceful, seemingly innocuous appearance. Its only visual indication is the husk of the burnt out hotel, still visible today (see picture).

There the villagers did everything they could to accommodate me and assure my comfort, draping my knees with a quilt and providing me with space heaters, and even a heated, luxuriously appointed room to sleep in.

I visited with Martin and his family for two days. Martin is also a former student turned friend who had repeatedly extended an invitation to his home. I had met his parents once, as they visited Wuhan to tend to him when he got sick. His mother is such a sweetheart and his father is generous and kind. They did their utmost to assure I would feel welcome and wanted. Not that I didn’t feel that way at Dash’s home.

Martin’s mother met her husband while washing clothes. Her village is across the creek from her husband’s and he fell in love with her, watching her pound brightly colored garments on the rocks by the water. They are still madly in love with one another. He has provided her with a beautiful, well appointed house. She in turn has made it a home complete with good smells wafting from the kitchen, cross stitched decorations on the walls and quilts that she made herself draping the beds. In the open parlor, the entrance to the house is a shrine to his relatives going back three generations.

Neither of these lovebirds has more than a rudimentary education, yet they are as happy and in love as any couple I’ve ever seen. They observe a traditional way of life in which she manages the household and he brings home the bread and all associated commodities. Their fine house is the best in the village, with high ceilings and a fenced in yard. The kitchen is large enough for a grand dining room table as well as ample counter space, ready to welcome modern accoutrements such as rice cookers, crock pots and a microwave oven. She, being very old school will have no such gadgets, preferring to prepare food in the old time way her mother and her mother’s mother has.

While she does in fact make use of a rice cooker, hot water is boiled over a ceramic coal fired stove, dishes are washed in cold water and all food is cooked using a single wok.

There are modern concessions in the home, however. A computer connected to the internet, a hot water heater in the bathroom downstairs, and a second bathroom upstairs that, as yet has no functional plumbing.

I cannot fault Martin or his family for their graciousness, their welcome or their efforts to see to my comfort. I blame it on weariness. Travel weariness – having gone so many places in such a short time, and being around so many people. Not just the wedding and the visiting, but being on buses, on trains, on the streets of the various cities I visited this winter break. After a while, all the noise and the putting on ‘the face’ is quite tiring. By the time I got to Shi Shou I was worn out and ready to not have someone in my immediate vicinity for every one of my waking hours. And, even though Martin’s mom is adorable, sweet kind and generous, she is affected with this… need? Habit? I’m not sure from where it springs but she likes to physically link herself to me at all times. Nothing wrong with companionship or physical contact but I need space, and now I need downtime.

I had meant to stay at Martin’s for at least 3 days but found I only had enough fortitude and reserve for an overnight stay. I made my apologies and expressed my regrets. On one level I do indeed regret my painful introversion. It makes it necessary for me to claim my space and find quiet to recharge my batteries. I could tell my hosts were disappointed but, better I leave now while I can still maintain appearances than linger longer than I have strength or resilience for.

Upon word of my early departure Martin’s mother made sure I had all manner of goods to take back to Wuhan with me. Some oranges and apples, a few yoghurt drinks, some home made sausages and, of all things a whole, cut up chicken, some ginger and a stick of cinnamon. These last few were because I had commented favorably on her delicious homemade chicken soup. Apparently, I would be unable to procure a chicken for myself so I had to take a ‘country’ chicken back to the city with me.

The house shoes she gave me as a gift. She had made them herself. All in all, I left Shi Shou burdened with about three times the weight I arrived there with.

Before escorting me to the bus station, the family opted to treat me to a luxurious meal at the finest restaurant in town. I was honored. And, because I was leaving prematurely, everyone who wanted to meet the ‘family foreigner friend’ was invited to dinner as well. In all we had 8 people seated around the table.

I felt sorry for the poor waitress. Once we placed our order she had to keep coming back to let us know that something we had ordered was not available. She always offered to substitute it for something else, which was good of her, but on the last few forays into our private dining room, the poor thing got yelled at a time or two. Not her fault things on the menu were not actually in the kitchen! And then she got yelled at for taking too long to bring the food. I have to admit: it did take quite a while before our table was laden with anything to eat. Not that I was in a hurry, mind you…

Yes I was! I was in a huge hurry! By now I had a physical need to be in my own space and place! I wanted 8PM to get here quickly so I could board the bus and be left alone with my thoughts!

I’m sounding like a broken record but that is honestly how imperative this feeling was. So, you can imagine my disappointment when, not only did the entire coterie escorted me to the bus station, and then waited the 30 minutes till I was able to board the bus. And then they all accompanied me onto the loading dock to see to it that I got safely on the bus. And then they stuck around outside, entreating the bus conductor to personally see to my safety.

I feel like I’m being smothered. I think there is such a thing as too much hospitality. I’m really trying to not be negative about my visit there, which actually was quite pleasant except for my overwhelming need to reclaim my space and my thoughts. Only once the bus actually pulled out of the station did everyone wend their way home.

Maybe the discomfort I felt at being too accessible, and the feeling I was being invaded is what made these two entries so difficult to write. They are done now, and at least one of them has given rise to another entry I hope you will find interesting.

The Village People

Who remembers discoing down to that musical group comprised of a policeman, an Indian chief, a sailor, a biker and a construction worker in the late 70’s/early 80’s? This blog entry has nothing to do with disco, that group or that era. I’m going to talk about the villages I visited during my runabout Winter break.

I’m dying to tell you how the first week of school went. I’ll get to that in a few posts. I just feel like, if I don’t write/post these travel events, I probably never will and they are pretty exciting!

The villages are the type that I described a few entries back, in The Demise of Sophie the Kid. The type where, unless I had an ‘in’ I would be deprived of experiencing. Tiny little villages that are so small, they are not even featured on the map of China.

Hong Hu (pronounced hong who) is a smallish township that serves as a hub to several even smaller villages, one of them being Bai Miao (pronounced ‘by miao’ – sounds like a haven for cat lovers, doesn’t it?) Dash, my former student and now friend, whose family lives in Bai Miao had invited me to her brother’s wedding. What an extravaganza that was!

After only a 2 hour bus ride from Wuhan I got off the coach and stepped onto the dusty streets of Hong Hu. A few minutes later, a yellow-jacketed Dash flew into my arms, long hair streaming behind her and tears of joy brimming in her eyes. She was ecstatic that I would come to her home! And I was delighted to see her.

She led me across the road and over a bridge, all while apologizing that she hadn’t used English very much these past few weeks and thus was having difficulty communicating with me. Never mind, Little Dash, we can speak Chinese as long as you don’t use your dialect and you speak slowly. I did not anticipate conversation to be an issue during this visit, and I was right.

The first clue to that effect was that we were going to ride to her village on a motorcycle. No, she did not pilot the bike and neither did I. Her uncle was waiting for us astride his machine, and all 3 of us were going to roar into town on that 150cc powered steed. Imagine it: this motorcycle is not big to begin with, and there is the uncle piloting and then me, twice as large as the uncle, and finally Dash sitting behind me, hanging off the back of the seat. No one took a picture (to my knowledge) but in my mind’s eye, it must have been quite a sight!

It was quite a ride, too. The winter cold had not yet abated and indeed this day was one of the coldest. My uncovered face and ungloved hands quickly turned red, my nose started running like a tap and my teeth started chattering. Dash was able to tuck her hands into my jacket pockets to keep them warm, and I, big as I am served as windbreak for her. She shouted at me as we sped past fallow fields that most everyone in her village owned a motorbike out of necessity. We went on in this fashion for several kilometers. I consoled myself with the thought that surely there would be some form of heat at our destination.

There was food and the greeting was warm and kind, but there was no heat source whatsoever once we got off the bike. Nowhere in the entire house was there a heater of any type to be found. Strange? Unusual?

After having gone to great lengths to describe to you the typical Chinese home and the construction thereof, you might think it would not be so weird for a home to not be heated, in spite of your western sensibilities. What I omitted telling you is that most homes do have some sort of heat, usually portable.

Most Chinese prefer to not run their heat pumps/air conditioners, if their apartment comes equipped with one. However they have no problem buying and using space heaters. In the more traditional homes they have coal burners that the family gathers around to keep warm. In Dash’s home there was so such luxury. My hands, red and cold from the motorcycle ride, remained cold and, at some point simply quit obeying my brain’s instructions to them. By the end of lunch I was unable to grasp chopsticks and feed myself. They did not warm up again the whole time I was there.

The stopover at Dash’s home stopped being fun after about 2 hours. Although it was great visiting with her for the short time we got to visit, that forbidding cold actually made me feel ill. Only upon hearing Dash say that there would be a hotel in the not too distant future did my misery lighten up a bit. But then, it was still several hours until we actually made it to the hotel, and it was not exactly a star-rated establishment. It too was a concrete shell with single paned glass windows that served only to trap cold.

Other than the short time we had together after lunch, Dash was busy with wedding preparations. She being the daughter in her traditional family, a lot of the grunt work was left up to her. Decorating the bridal suite, helping prepare food, coordinating visitors and entertainment, dealing with the caterers and seating the guests for meals was all on her list of things to do. At one point she said I should make myself at home and make use of the home’s only computer, located in the bridal suite.

I wanted to help her decorate, or clean, or arrange tables… something that would get my blood pumping to generate heat but, as honored guest I was not allowed to do anything. Even when I got Dash to relent and let me help her, other relatives stepped in and declared I should do nothing. That was quite a conundrum, I tell you. So, by invitation, I sat and froze and my mood got worse and worse.

It didn’t help that most of the people of that village, having never gone further than the hub-town of Hong Hu, had never seen a foreigner up close and personal. I was the object of curiosity: people unabashedly staring, the more audacious getting up front and personal, touching my hair and my clothes. Being as I towered over everyone there, my great size was quite the topic of conversation. Everyone had the same question: is ‘it’ a man or a woman? To everyone’s delight I spoke Chinese, and even got onstage to sing a song for the wedding. Nevertheless it was ennerving to be stared at and pawed to that degree.

I’ll describe the wedding in a separate entry, but for now I’ll tell you I was glad to leave this tiny community behind. Not that Dash, or anyone else was cruel to unkind to me. The cold and the conditions made this visit untenable.

Strangely enough, there were cars aplenty when we were leaving, both for the hotel on the night before the wedding and after the wedding itself. I couldn’t help but wonder: if there were cars to take people away from Bai Miao, why was there not a car to get us there, instead of us freezing astride a motorbike?

I would never convey to Dash or her family that I was in any way uncomfortable. When we parted she apologized for not having any more time available to truly make the most of my visit. I reassured her that I understand perfectly that she would be busy, and maybe during her brother’s wedding was not the best time to visit her home. I am welcome back and may actually return there… when the weather is warmer.

For now, I am in a heated vehicle, headed to the bus station, on my way to Shi Shou.

Whereas understandably, I was not the center of attention at Dash’s house, although under different conditions I suspect I would have been I was certainly the focal point of the village of Shi Shou. With no wedding and nothing else but daily life going on there, the big foreigner’s appearance was indeed the sight.

In spite of my best intentions I am going to have to write this in two entries. How do I manage that? No matter how I try, I always end up ‘talking’ much more than I envision. Maybe it is because I wish to make these images as graphic as possible.

Your next entry will be the visit to Shi Shou. And then I’ll describe the traditional wedding in a later post, once I catch up on everything else. I doubt seriously that tradition will change before I commit my experiences to ‘paper’.

Could I live There?

A while back those of you on my email list received a jubilant message that proclaimed I have tenure. Dean Tu has offered me an open-ended contract to teach at this school. Specifically his words were: “You can stay here as long as you want.”

Naturally I am ecstatic at having a measure of job security. In spite of my vagabond pretentions I am well aware that the job market is tight the world over. Even ESL teachers, as high a demand as there are for them have to compete and struggle for a good position. In other institutions I would have to work much harder, maybe even a whole forty hours a week! I would not have the great position and the perks I have with this school. Having just moved into this brand new apartment that does feel like home, and now that I am familiar with this city I would hate to have to move on so soon. And, I’ve become attached. To Gary, Mask, Tony, Evan… I have many friends here. To Sam, to the other English teachers and especially to the kids.

Getting real for a moment: I have health issues in Wuhan. My hair falls out at an alarming rate because the air is so dry and I have to pop Benadryl sometimes three times a day in order to breathe. I am comfortable here but maybe it is not the best place for me to be. Eventually I will have to consider moving on. Besides, I have to remember my goal of vagabonding around. That is supposed to mean no roots.

In this entry I will revisit all of the cities I’ve been to so far since moving to China. I’ll make a list of good and bad things and decide: CILT (could I live there)?

Starting with Wuhan: There are some things to see and do. Centrally located; it is easy to visit other cities from here. Enough foreigner commodities and enough foreigners to satisfy. Easy to navigate. Food is not necessarily good but I do like a few indigenous dishes. People are friendly. The climate is not too extreme but the air is rough, causing breathing problems. Winters tend to be harsh. My current job is a gravy train. CILT: irrelevant. I live here already.

Xi’an: there is plenty to do and see, good shopping and a lot of ‘foreigner’ commodities. The people there are friendly, it is easy to get around and I have lots of friends there. Indigenous food is fantastic. On the downside, temps tend to be rough, and it is not centrally located. CILT: YES! In spite of the cold temps and the Western location, I have dreamt about living in Xi’an since the first time I visited that city.

Yi Chang: Its main claim to fame is Three Gorges dam. Being so close to such great bodies of water the temps are iffy and the weather is usually damp. The food is delicious and it is an easy city to navigate. The people are very friendly. There are not many foreigner commodities and not much to do. CILT: If I had to, but I’d rather not.

Xi Shui: No major claim to fame, not much in the way of foreigner commodities and, for that matter not many foreigners. It is a semirural area demonstrating little progress. The people were friendly but reserved; I suspect if I had gone there on my own I would have met with a lot of resistance. The food is OK but not particularly remarkable. It is not easy to navigate; no major infrastructure (although there are buses). CILT: No. I would feel too isolated.

Chengdu: A very cosmopolitan city with plenty to do and see. Lots of foreigner commodities and a fair amount of culture. Food, what I tasted of it was very spicy. The weather was great and the people were friendly. Easy to navigate. CILT: probably. Well… yes. Wouldn’t mind it at all.

Chong Qing: Cosmopolitan in the extreme, with the people exhibiting a competitive, nouveau-riche feel. They were not necessarily friendly. There is plenty to do and see, and plenty of foreigner commodities. For that matter, there were plenty of foreigners. Indigenous food is good. The layout is complex and, I suspect not easy to navigate in spite of the ample buses rumbling around. CILT: no. I did not like the way this city felt.

Shenzhen: nice climate and friendly people, enough foreigner commodities. Easy to navigate, but not much to see or do. Its main claim to fame is being close to Hong Kong. No indigenous food to speak of and no indigenous culture. The outlying neighborhoods tend to be kind of rough and there is an air of… desperation? Hopelessness? Not a traditional city. CILT? No. Wouldn’t want to.

Nanjing: Old timey, established feel with few major commercial centers, plenty of foreigner commodities and plenty of foreigners, easy to navigate. More than enough to see and do. Some construction but not to the point that the city is cloaked in dust. Climate is about like Wuhan but the air is substantially cleaner. The people are not very friendly but the men are handsome (I am female, after all!) I don’t have any idea what the food might be like. CILT: yes. Second place after Xi’an.

Hong Hu Bai Miao: tiny village with only one school. No foreigner concessions and no other foreigners. Only a few small shops, selling daily goods. Easy to navigate only because it consists of one road, running north/south. Remote in the extreme; difficult to get to and even harder to leave. No restaurants; the only indigenous food I sampled was at individual homes (very tasty). CILT: no. Too small and too rural.

Shi Shou: Small town with no foreigner concessions. Only one school, but it does have an English program. People are friendly and the food is delicious. One small commercial center. Not much to see or do. Not easy to navigate. CILT: no. too small and remote.

Beijing: Very large and fast paced. Weather is disagreeable. There is plenty to see and do, plenty of foreigner commodities and plenty of foreigners. Lots of employment opportunities too. Fairly easy to navigate. Not well located for vagabonding. CILT: no. It is too large and too fast for me.

So there you have it. I would not mind staying in Wuhan for its central location, the friends I’ve made and the job security I have. If not for the health issues I might well make this my pied a terre and just vagabond from here.

Xi’an and Nanjing are closely tied for first place, followed by Chengdu. The other places were nice to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.

I intend to return to Nanjing this spring, when the weather breaks. I’d like to get a feel for it ‘under normal operating conditions’ and not in holiday mode. Also, it would be nice to explore some of those landmarks and memorials I saw from the bus windows. For climate alone it might win out over Xi’an.

Nah, Xi’an is still the city of my dreams.

Beijing

I had to go to Beijing to renew my passport. It would expire this year and without it… well, you can imagine what happens to a waiguoren who doesn’t have a valid passport. I don’t want to be that waiguoren, so renewal is in my better interests. Besides, it just makes good sense to have a valid passport when abroad, doesn’t it?

Sam would accompany on this trip. That promised to be a lot of fun. He likes to travel and is a good friend to boot. There is always an air of wistfulness about him whenever I tell him about my travels and adventures. He has confided that, before getting married he would travel with one or the other foreign teacher all the time. My predecessor, Byron, is often mentioned.

I’ve wanted to invite him several times but felt it would not be proper for mixed gender colleagues to travel together. And, the fact that he now has a family does put a crimp in things. So, using this official piece of business to invite him along to Beijing was the perfect vehicle. We pitched the idea to Dean Tu last year, during the meeting in which he informed me I could stay at this school as long as I wish. Dean agreed to allow Sam to travel with me and would even reimburse some of his costs. My costs are all mine because, for me it is personal business, nothing to do with the school.

By now Sam has confidence that I can manage my own transportation arrangements. Because he was in his hometown, Xi Shui, visiting with his family for the New Year celebration he asked me to buy his ticket when I bought mine. He also recommended a train that would likely suit our schedule. Unfortunately that train was sold out, but I was able to buy a ticket on an express train that would take us only 10 hours to reach Beijing, instead of riding all night, as we would have to do on the train he suggested.

Here is something interesting and new: one has to present ID in order to buy a train ticket nowadays. Especially around peak travel times such as Spring Festival or the National Celebration Week in October, ticket scalpers abound. The government’s effort to stem the tide of scalpers involves each buyer presenting ID, and that traveler’s name or ID number being printed on the train ticket.

In my case, not having an official Chinese ID card I have to present my passport. I did not know about his change in the law when I first started traveling this season, and I did not bring my passport with me to buy tickets. However, I did have my Texas driver’s license, and that was identification enough to allow me to buy my ticket to Shenzhen. Being a quick study, I have learned that, from hence forth I must present my passport to buy a ticket. But only for the train or for a plane ticket. For a long distance bus ticket, you still don’t have to present ID.

Because I did not have Sam’s ID I could not buy his ticket. A flurry of text messages flew back and forth between us. I’m not sure how, but he managed to get a ticket on the same train as me. Remember: this is peak travel season; often train tickets sell out within minutes of them becoming available.

Sometimes I believe that Sam is actually magic. He has a way of making things happen…

We met at the train station; laying eyes on each other for the first time since Winter Break started nearly 5 weeks ago. Other than his hair being professionally styled it was same ole’ Sam: cherubic and cheerful, eyes nearly crinkled shut because of the ear to ear grin he was sporting.

One of the reasons I wanted him to accompany me on this trip was because he attended university in Tianjin, a city on the outskirts of Beijing. Several of his college roommates now live and work in Beijing, and he has not seen them in the ten years since his graduation. They have kept up with each other, though. Going to Beijing would afford him the chance to see his friends, all while serving in the professional capacity of helping one of the foreign teachers.

We arrived at 10PM and debarked to the biting cold northerly wind. I was intellectually prepared for the cold but in no way was I ready for it physically. Beijing is much colder than Wuhan. Sam had made hotel reservations at a house near the train station but, because my consulate appointment was early the next morning I felt it would be better to secure lodging near the embassy. We took a taxi to Embassy Row and scouted for hotels from there.

Scouting was the right word. Almost nobody we ran into spoke Chinese! Being close to the center of Foreigner Country with all those embassies around us, I got to make use of my various language skills while Sam stood idly by. At one point we did find a small store that Sam could ask directions from. While there I asked him if he was hungry and he just kind of went nuts! He wanted noodles and sausage and crackers and a little bit of alcohol to warm himself up with. I settled for some crackers. I had packed food for the train, and double the amount in consideration of my traveling companion, but Sam didn’t want anything I had packed.

Now truly laden we head off in some vague direction that the shopkeeper had gestured in. It took us a while, but we finally found a place to lay our head for the night. Warning, all: hotels in Beijing are expensive! It cost us nearly 300Yuan apiece for a room of shoddy standards. Neither one of us cared: we were tired and out of that terrible, cold wind.

Interesting observation: there were more Chinese at the American embassy applying for a visa than there were Americans transacting any type of official business. In fact, besides the clerk who interviewed me I didn’t see very many Americans at all. There were plenty of people from other nationalities though. Thanks to my appointment and American citizenship I got to breeze right through security and to the head of all the lines. In all I spent less than 45 minutes on official business. After that, Sam and I walked to Long Peace Street, one of the city’s more famous boulevards.

Being in Beijing is almost like being in America. There are plenty of shopping venues like The Gap, Birkenstock and Rockport. Restaurants like Fatburger and Dominoes, as well as other iconic fast food joints, even that ever popular McDonalds. Strangely enough, although in most other Chinese cities you can spot a KFC on nearly every street corner I didn’t see a single one in the capital city.

There are ‘foreigners’ everywhere in Beijing! Not just around Embassy Row but all over town: shopping, eating, strolling.

I had been to Beijing in 2008, the first time I came to China. I remembered it as a vibrant, fast moving place with an undercurrent of desperation. Just like Las Vegas, the people of Beijing struggle to make a life there while the tourists get caught up in the glamour and pizzazz. And, like Vegas, there is a lot of pizzazz to get caught up in.

I remember quite a bit from when I visited this city 4 years ago, so I became the tour guide and Sam the avid tourist. For some reason he was not interested in very much: he did not want to ride through the Hutong – ancient Chinese neighborhoods whose alleys are so narrow they must be navigated on foot or by bicycle. He did not want to climb the bell tower or the drum tower although we did go see them.

He did want to visit Tiananmen Square, specifically the Mao Ze Dong memorial. Unfortunately we only got to walk around the building housing his tomb; the memorial building was closed. We took in the rest of Tiananmen, the largest public gathering place in the world, and then took off for other sight seeing destinations.

The highlight of this trip for me was watching Sam cut loose and have fun. He is mostly a serious young man, family driven and goal oriented. He and I have had a measure of fun, but not to the extent that he had while visiting with his college roommates. Over dinner they rehashed their glory days and poked fun at each other. Sam drank not one but two beers, getting rosy cheeked and garrulous. I got to participate too: I asked them what, as roommates was the most fun prank they pulled on each other. That line of conversation elicited some insane giggling!

We finished our visit to the Capital by eating roast duck, the city’s food of renown. I wanted to treat him to the restaurant I remembered from my previous visit. The duck was indeed delicious but let me tell you: that was one expensive bird! I spent right at 300Yuan for one duck; no trimmings. By comparison the meal that Sam’s friends treated us to the night before only cost 240Yuan and we were served 7 dishes. I got a little angry at being ripped off at a ‘tourist trap’ restaurant but, what was done was done and Sam had leftover duck to share with his beloved Penny. You guessed it: we took not just the leftovers but the carcass home! Wouldn’t you, for that price?

Sam and I parted company on campus. For him duty called even though it was Saturday; he had a meeting to attend. I just wanted to go home and rest from all the traveling I had done these past 5 weeks, and get my thoughts in order to share them with you.

I’ve gotten my rest. I’m still doing the sharing.

Bad Blogger!

I am a bad, bad blogger! I should be writing and writing, but…

See, I have this insistent need to keep this story in order. And, to do so, the next thing I have to write about is my trip to the small villages, Hong Hu Bai Miao and Shi Shou. The problem is I just can’t get a feel for how I want them to turn out. More specifically: I do have a feel for how I want them to turn out; I just don’t seem to be able to achieve it.

I’ve started writing that entry twice, and both times they have not turned out flavorful and informative. To me they come out ponderous and not fun at all.

I enjoy writing, and I hope and want you to enjoy reading what I write. If I don’t feel good about publishing an entry, I won’t publish it. That means that the narrative – this blog, comes to a standstill. That is why I call myself a bad blogger.

So, what say I do this: I let go of that part of the story, kick it down to the boys in the basement and get on with what I already have formulated in my head that is ready to see print. That way you are not bored with pedantic prose and I will not feel like I’m publishing for the sake of publishing.

I’ll get back to the villages and tell that part of my trip the way it should be told, once I can get it right. I promise. There are some very interesting and fun cultural aspects to the wedding I attended while in Hong Hu, and there are some insightful observations I made in both Hong Hu and in Shi Shou that I want to share with you.

For the sake of keeping things moving though, I’ll progress on to Beijing.

Pack your bags! Here we go…