7/5
Today we made it past vertical striations of grass, sand, mountains and sky to the Kongol Sand Dune, an absolutely giant mountain range of sand dunes. It was strange because it just went up so suddenly. There were a few small sand dunes around it, but much smaller, and then there was just this massive line- exactly like a single range of swaying mountains. It was definitely the most desert-y looking part of the Gobi, and truly impressive. I've seen lots (LOTS) of sand dunes, but I've never seen anything else quite like this.
After settling in at our ger camp, each of us mounted a two-humped camel. The health of the humps is a good indicator of their overall general health and how well fed/ hydrated they are. As you might expect, the camels were terribly smelly. Mine may have been the worst as it seemed to have a bad case of gas, though this worked out for me as it meant I didn't have to smell it as long as we kept walking. We rode up to the base of the dune and then started the exhausting hike up. Think of how hard it is to walk in sand, now imagine trying to walk up a very steep mountain made up of it. It was extremely difficult, and the guide, who clambered up without ever losing his breath, had to grab our hands and help us up a few times. I was embarrassed at how out of shape I've become- just a couple months ago I was the one practically sprinting up the temples at Angkor Wat. I'm sure it's because I've gained a bit of weight and haven't been running lately. I've got to start again ASAP.
As difficult as it was, it was kind of fun too and it felt like a huge achievement when we got to the top. Standing on the apex, the crests of the range looked like ribbons twisted and gently fallen on a tailors floor.
7/6
Left the Gobi, through a whimsical path carved between small mountains of pinkish rocks. On top of one of these small mountains in the middle of nowhere was a statue of a mountain goat, complete with huge, backwards curving horns and periwinkle blue ribbons tied on it. For lunch, we stopped in an actual town with structures. We believe it was a commune set up while Mongolia was part of the U.S.S.R. The buildings are plain and somehow depressing, in the way that prisons are, no matter what color they're painted. Though a bit more developed, it reminds me of nothing else as much as the Japanese internment (work) camps in California, leftover reminders of something we'd rather forget.
The first lunch offered to us was hu shu, a fried pastry filled with meat and onions. It was okay, but most of us chose to order the vegetables with meat and rice instead. When it came out, it was so salty that it was inedible (though still not as bad as the meal on the train) so we got more of the hu shu instead.
We continued driving when Igor pulled over for a random stop near a herd of goats and a three gers. Erka and Selonga got out and started talking to the family who'd chosen that spot for the season. They came back and asked us if we wanted to watch them milk the goats and we all said sure and got out.
Have I mentioned yet, how long it took us to get out of the van every damn time? It was like being in a car with my mother and four of her clones. I'd be ready to hop out and everyone else would just be fussing around, putting stuff in their bags or taking it out or stretching or stopping for a drink from the arduous process of moving three freaking feet to get out of the van and more importantly, out of my freaking way. It was ridiculous. Every single time. I couldn't understand why they couldn't learn to use their time more efficiently by preparing while we were still driving, and not wasting my time. Okay, end rant.
In Mongolia, and maybe in most places- I can't say for sure since I haven't milked that many goats, they prepare the goats for milking by tying all of their heads together in a line on both sides of a horizontal wooden pole. Their horns butt each other and heads are pushed at extraordinarily awkward-looking angles on either side and if you crouch, you see nothing but goat butts.
To milk them then, you just squat and waddle along the line, pulling at the udders with both hands like some odd sort of squirting video game. I wasn't very good (apparently, I pull at the wrong point and angle) but it was fun to try and just very funny overall. It was a happy experience, watching the family do it properly, and then having them watch and laugh at and with us as we tried. It was just fun, and it was nice to do it in such a natural way- it wasn't on a tourist farm or anything like that, nor did our Erka or Selonga know them or pay them- it was just a real family being wonderfully hospitable. Just a really good time.
That night, we stayed in a city, __________, and stopped by the city bathhouse to have wonderful, fairly long, hot showers. Vicky, Jenny and I helped Selonga make dinner- dumpling soup, which was delicious, and went to bed in our ger.
7/7
Again, during our drive today, Erka pulled over randomly and we all got out to hang out with some more nomads. They had baby goats that were only three days old and were just adorable. They were so cute and happy and so much fun to play with. Is there really anything cuter in the entire world than baby animals? I think not, so I had that baby-animal goofy grin on my face nearly all day long.
The father, of the household, not of the goats, was outside the three gers chopping wood into firewood, though where the wood came from, I can't imagine, since there were no trees anywhere nearby. Their three children were playing around with us and the goats, while the mother was mostly cooking inside while the grandfather watched idly, looking like a true ancient cowboy of the 19th century.
They invited us inside and had us taste their food fermented mare milk (horrible), Mongolian vodka (smelled rank, but didn't taste that bad, very potent), yak cheese (gross), dried goat curds (pretty bad) and goat butter which was surprisingly delicious, though they wanted us to eat it on sugar cubes which was strange, but the butter itself was wonderful- creamy and light.
We said goodbye to the lovely family and drove on. We stopped at this cliff where the Soviets killed thousands of monks by fire drill (line drill? when you shoot a bunch of people with machine guns in a line) in the 20s and 30s.
On the opposite side of the road was a huge hawk, which is a very special animal in Mongolian culture- something about boldness and strength, I think.
Arriving at our gers for the night, we waited ages as the cowboys tried to round up the semi-wild Mongolian horses (from which, I was told, all horses are descended) to take us down to the waterfall. My horse was slow but didn't like to be the very last one in the group so as soon as the last one would start to overtake us, he'd suddenly wake up and start to gallop slightly. It was fun.
The waterfall was very pretty, but the water was cold so I just stuck my toes in, though Jenny and Craig went swimming.
7/8
Driving today, the scenery looked distinctively more northern. Grassy hills, dotted with wildflowers, forests of some relative of the pine tree family and a blue sky (of course) made me think of Austria and want to yodel, though, of course, I've never actually been to Austria, nor do I have the faintest idea of how to properly yodel.
I felt pretty depressed on the drive as yesterday was the anniversary of my father's death and the next day was my un-birthday. An un-birthday is a half-birthday, which sounds stupid, but which we really did minorly celebrate in my family, so it's important to me. Obviously the former event was unhappy, but due to several reasons I don't want to discuss, the latter event is now one I dislike as well and tends to make me sad.
On a quick side of the road bathroom break, we spotted this pretty flower, which I thought was quite distinctly different from any other I've ever seen, though I think it must be related to lilies, given the pollen stem thing inside.
We also passed a few funeral pyres. The bodies are properly buried and the stones then stacked like a loose pyramid on top of the grave.
In the early afternoon, we arrived at the _________ Hot Springs. It was definitely a tourist ger camp, but quite nice and the surrounding area was lovely. After lunch I wandered around the complex a bit and stuck my toes in the hottest spring on site- 87* Celsius!
I moved over to the lukewarm regular springs, which weren't as hot as I tend to think hot springs should be, and I hung out there for a while. I read a bit, then after dinner, went back to the regular springs which had fresh, hot water pumped from the underground springs well into them so they were really burning, in a good way. I talked to a few people, including one guy who was particularly memorable because he was an American Olympic Double Luger who'd been in the Vancouver 2010 Olympics but said he was retiring now. He was interesting, but I was tired, so said goodnight to everyone, took a shower (two in three days!) and went to bed.
7/9
Today we visited Kharkahroum, an ancient temple complex that was previously part of the ancient capital. It was interesting and since Selonga passed our group off onto another tour guide she knew who took us around, it was really informative.
I really enjoyed it anyway, though some might think it boring. For some reason I still don't totally understand, we had to go pet a turtle statue for good luck since turtles are honored here for their steadfastness and wisdom (I guess the good luck was the reason, but it still seemed random).
Naadam had started that day in Kharkahroum so we watched the wrestlers and the ankle-bone contest (well, watched men huddle over a table), though we'd missed the horse racing. It got a bit boring after a while though, especially since two of the four final wrestlers got caught in a virtually stagnant grasping hug-off for about twenty minutes. Regardless, it was somewhat interesting to see this and be able to later compare it to the UB festival.
Since we were staying in a tourist ger camp that night (as opposed to the more regular, family owned gers we'd mostly stayed in) we were able to buy beer and had a great time playing music and drinking with the group of three people (a Kiwi couple and an older Japanese lady, all very nice) whose tour we'd crashed. It was great fun, really joyous.
7/10
Today was a very long drive back to UB, where we left Igor, Selonga and Erka and thanked them for everything. I met up with Steffi again and we went to dinner at a Czech place where I had delicious beef in sauce and Czech style dumplings, which are basically like slices of potato-bread. We had a good heart to heart, wherein we decided I needed a boyfriend because I needed more happiness and love and stability in my life. We also blamed our parents for various issues, and talked about movies and the concept of home. It was really lovely and the kind of talk you rarely have while on the road.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
World Cup Culture Convergence in Mongolia
7/2
Started my tour today in an old non air-conditioned gray Soviet van that we named Igor. Long drive through basic flatlands. We did see a few giant hawks, some heron-type things (cranes) and horses, goats, sheep, cows and dogs. Mongolia has 18 times the number of farm-type animals as it does people.
Igor held eight people; Ekra, the driver, Selonga, the "guide"/cook, and six tourists; Jenny, a Korean girl, Vicky and Craig, British Doctors, Bert and Giselle, an old German couple, and myself. At around four, we stopped at Baga gazariin chuluu, a temple that was destroyed by the Soviets in the 1930s. It was decent, with pretty scenery, and blessedly, only one other group of tourists- even smaller than ours, and a Mongolian father and son were there.
While waiting for Selonga to make dinner, I went for a nice walk around the rocks, then went back to our ger. A ger (known in the West as a yurt) is the traditional Mongolian home. It's a short, round wooden structure, padded by a thick layer of wool and covered in canvas. Usually, there is a shrine on the far wall facing you as you enter the door, though you'd trip over the stove, which is kept in the middle of the room so the chimney can exit through the circular hole on top that is generally half-covered. The beds, or more typically, mattresses, are pressed against the walls as if from centrifugal force. The toilet is an outhouse outside, though sometimes it's just a hole in the ground, covered with a few wooden slats to stand on while you squat.
7/3
Today was another long day of driving (350 km), though at least my lunch was excellent today (though not markedly different- more meat, vegetables and potatoes all fried together, served with rice). We saw our first group of camels and drove to Temeen shavar (the Flaming Cliffs), which were very nice, but (and I feel a bit bad saying this), I'm starting to think I could've done an off-road trip from part of California through the Southwest and had essentially the same experience. Trade gers for a few scattered houses or cabins and temples for churches and that's pretty much it. Both have blue skies and vast emptiness, people herding animals, and not a whole ton in the way of culture.
I think I can go one more day without a shower before I start to feel really gross. I'll likely have a babywipes bath tonight. Apparently much of the area we've been passing through on our way to the desert is known as the Steppes (pronounced steps) and is basically just endless flat, slightly green plains.
After I'd written all this, at about 10:30 p.m., my germates and I noticed a lot of noise coming from our next-door neighbors. Jenny came by and told us they were watching the world cup inside. Vicky and I had remarked on the satellite dish upon arriving at this ger camp, which was an odd enough sight in such a remote site, but to actually see a small newish looking but black and white t.v. playing the Germany-Argentina World Cup game inside a ger in the middle of complete nothingness in Mongolia was surreal. The bright white light illuminated the almost exclusively white faces inside, the Mongolians who actually lived in that ger (save two sitting in the very front), had abdicated their seats for the foreigners and so a Mongolian grandmother, mother, two men and a child sat watching through the door and refused stools when one of the foreigners offered to give up theirs.
It was a bizarre experience, all the more so because I was watching part of the World Cup without beer. We later agreed that they should have charged admission and had beer available for sale and they would've made more money than they did selling the handmade woolen items (toy gers, camels, hats, purses). It was also amazing to think that the World Cup actually reached that far and made me feel more inclined to watch it and helped me understand its relevance was real- I'd always assumed that the idea of rural people in poor countries watching the WC and the world feeling united was pure propaganda, but seeing it actually bring together people of different cultures and places was almost...well, let's not go that far- it's still soccer.
7/4
Even though this post won't actually go up until later, I still feel obligated to write a patriotic post in honor of Independence day, especially since I won't get fireworks, sparklers, a beach or a barbeque, though I might get beer.
Things the U.S. Does/Has Better Than Anywhere Else:
Movies/ Movie Theater Experience
Customer Service
Individual Rights
Road Trips
Directness
Medical Care (IF you can afford it)
Better Than Most:
Cheese
Ice Cream
Mexican Food
Quality of Higher Education (ignoring all the many problems with it)
When, that is, if, you think of Mongolia, you probably think, as I did, of vast deserts (meaning the Gobi) and little else. Today, in the Yol Valley of the South, I saw an Ice river/ glacier. We'd driven a few hours this morning to get there and arrived at the museum near the entrance around noon. The museum was just a few smalls rooms, all except one filled with indigenous stuffed animals. The other room had four glass cases and a table in it. Two cases contained small dinosaur bones and remnants. One contained a partially exposed small dinosaur skeleton, remarkably preserved in a way so that you could see its basic shape still. The last glass case contained several dinosaur eggs, some almost whole, some broken into a few (though not many) pieces. Most interesting to me, however, was the table. On a basic, small rectangular card table, without any covering whatsoever, were dinosaur bones. The sign didn't say what kind, but there they were, just sitting on the table like sewing machines at a garage sale, waiting for someone to pick up and ask "How much for this one?" The sign did say not to touch them, but I'm a rebel, so I stroked one giant dirtied-ivory colored bone, thicker than two soda cans. The part I touched was fairly solid, but most parts looked splintered, like wood while it's burning. I did learn one thing in the museum however: Mongolia has snow leopards, though they're very, very, very rare (according to Vicky who said she watched a documentary on it, it took the BBC team three weeks to spot one and that was using the latest technology with several people, filming 24 hours a day).
Igor has not been happy with us and our poor comrade has overheated often, forcing us to get out, pour water into his engine (which is inside the car in the front seat between the driver and shotgunner, under a leather covered compartment), wait around for a while, and try again. He made it to the parking lot for the walk out to the glacier and we had lunch Selonga had prepared that morning (over-oiled fried rice with a tiny bit of mutton inside and carrots). It was only a 2 km walk to the ice and it was a very nice mostly-flat walk by a stream that became a river, through green grass that climbed onto hills that turned into small rocky mountains. Most of it reminded me of the Seven Sisters near San Luis Obispo. The ice river was rather random and seemed to just come out of nowhere so that was cool. I slid along it a bit and watched it melt away, drip by drip. It'll be gone by the time I put this post up. It was pretty but mostly just impressive because it was so surprising and random, just there. A big chunk of ice in the Gobi Desert.
While we were gone our guide Erka had taken part of Igor's engine apart in an attempt to fix it and we had to wait for about an hour and a half after we got back for him to put it back together, and it only seemed to work marginally better.
Since we were so far behind schedule, we decided to stay nearby for the night. It was a fantastic decision as the place we found was a lovely, tiny village with a population of 50 or so. It was the sort of country, self-sufficient area Mao probably had wet dreams about. One interesting thing was that this tiny place had a basketball court and a basic elliptical with some other basic exercise equipment. In Northern Asia, I've noticed that in general, they seem to pay much more attention to their youth and old. For the young, there are many more options for things to do at night and on weekends like; video arcades (ubiquitous and larger and more extensive than in the U.S.), jimjillbangs and manga libraries/ internet cafes (again, better than those we have in the West). For the geriatric set, I've particularly noticed that several of the parks that have areas and exercise equipment specifically set off for Seniors (I know this because they have English signs) to keep them active and encourage physical and mental activity until they die.
Anyway, it was a lovely little area. After dinner and a walk around, I saw a group of men leaving the largest house (likely a school/ community center) who were dressed in red and blue briefs. They got into cars and drove off. Soon afterwards I left too and walked back to our ger camp.
As I walked over the hill, I could see that the cars had stopped just in front of our group of five gers and that all the tourists were sitting in about a third of a circle and the men in briefs were inside the part of the circle they'd created.
My guide said they were going to do a show for us, and that it was 4,000 per person (about $3) to watch. It looked interesting, so I said I would and sat down. They'd already started a bit but when they started a new round, the two men would stand from about fifty feet back, then slapped the front of their thighs twice, then slapped their butts then slowly jogged over to their referee (there were always at least two). Just before reaching their designated referee, they'd start to do this very slow movement of flapping their arms up and down, in a way that was supposed to represent a hawk. I imagine it was supposed to seem elegant and smooth, but it just managed to look idiotic. They'd "swoop" around their referee three times and then the referee would pat them on the shoulder and they'd go to dance circles with the other fighter. At some point, they'd embrace and be locked in a hug for ages until one finally made some movement that knocked the other off balance. You lost when your hands, knees or elbows touched the ground. It wasn't very active and most of the time the wrestlers weren't really moving, which is why they had two or three fights all going on at the same time. It seemed to be a bit of a psychological game in a way, but it also seemed that the men who looked the worst in their briefs, chubby bellies overhanging them, did the best. It was really neat to watch, and I got a picture with them afterwards, though not a very good one. Two of the tourist guys tried a match and one of them, who said he'd had some karate training, did okay. The other one was flat on his back in about ten seconds.
Started my tour today in an old non air-conditioned gray Soviet van that we named Igor. Long drive through basic flatlands. We did see a few giant hawks, some heron-type things (cranes) and horses, goats, sheep, cows and dogs. Mongolia has 18 times the number of farm-type animals as it does people.
Igor held eight people; Ekra, the driver, Selonga, the "guide"/cook, and six tourists; Jenny, a Korean girl, Vicky and Craig, British Doctors, Bert and Giselle, an old German couple, and myself. At around four, we stopped at Baga gazariin chuluu, a temple that was destroyed by the Soviets in the 1930s. It was decent, with pretty scenery, and blessedly, only one other group of tourists- even smaller than ours, and a Mongolian father and son were there.
While waiting for Selonga to make dinner, I went for a nice walk around the rocks, then went back to our ger. A ger (known in the West as a yurt) is the traditional Mongolian home. It's a short, round wooden structure, padded by a thick layer of wool and covered in canvas. Usually, there is a shrine on the far wall facing you as you enter the door, though you'd trip over the stove, which is kept in the middle of the room so the chimney can exit through the circular hole on top that is generally half-covered. The beds, or more typically, mattresses, are pressed against the walls as if from centrifugal force. The toilet is an outhouse outside, though sometimes it's just a hole in the ground, covered with a few wooden slats to stand on while you squat.
7/3
Today was another long day of driving (350 km), though at least my lunch was excellent today (though not markedly different- more meat, vegetables and potatoes all fried together, served with rice). We saw our first group of camels and drove to Temeen shavar (the Flaming Cliffs), which were very nice, but (and I feel a bit bad saying this), I'm starting to think I could've done an off-road trip from part of California through the Southwest and had essentially the same experience. Trade gers for a few scattered houses or cabins and temples for churches and that's pretty much it. Both have blue skies and vast emptiness, people herding animals, and not a whole ton in the way of culture.
I think I can go one more day without a shower before I start to feel really gross. I'll likely have a babywipes bath tonight. Apparently much of the area we've been passing through on our way to the desert is known as the Steppes (pronounced steps) and is basically just endless flat, slightly green plains.
After I'd written all this, at about 10:30 p.m., my germates and I noticed a lot of noise coming from our next-door neighbors. Jenny came by and told us they were watching the world cup inside. Vicky and I had remarked on the satellite dish upon arriving at this ger camp, which was an odd enough sight in such a remote site, but to actually see a small newish looking but black and white t.v. playing the Germany-Argentina World Cup game inside a ger in the middle of complete nothingness in Mongolia was surreal. The bright white light illuminated the almost exclusively white faces inside, the Mongolians who actually lived in that ger (save two sitting in the very front), had abdicated their seats for the foreigners and so a Mongolian grandmother, mother, two men and a child sat watching through the door and refused stools when one of the foreigners offered to give up theirs.
It was a bizarre experience, all the more so because I was watching part of the World Cup without beer. We later agreed that they should have charged admission and had beer available for sale and they would've made more money than they did selling the handmade woolen items (toy gers, camels, hats, purses). It was also amazing to think that the World Cup actually reached that far and made me feel more inclined to watch it and helped me understand its relevance was real- I'd always assumed that the idea of rural people in poor countries watching the WC and the world feeling united was pure propaganda, but seeing it actually bring together people of different cultures and places was almost...well, let's not go that far- it's still soccer.
7/4
Even though this post won't actually go up until later, I still feel obligated to write a patriotic post in honor of Independence day, especially since I won't get fireworks, sparklers, a beach or a barbeque, though I might get beer.
Things the U.S. Does/Has Better Than Anywhere Else:
Movies/ Movie Theater Experience
Customer Service
Individual Rights
Road Trips
Directness
Medical Care (IF you can afford it)
Better Than Most:
Cheese
Ice Cream
Mexican Food
Quality of Higher Education (ignoring all the many problems with it)
When, that is, if, you think of Mongolia, you probably think, as I did, of vast deserts (meaning the Gobi) and little else. Today, in the Yol Valley of the South, I saw an Ice river/ glacier. We'd driven a few hours this morning to get there and arrived at the museum near the entrance around noon. The museum was just a few smalls rooms, all except one filled with indigenous stuffed animals. The other room had four glass cases and a table in it. Two cases contained small dinosaur bones and remnants. One contained a partially exposed small dinosaur skeleton, remarkably preserved in a way so that you could see its basic shape still. The last glass case contained several dinosaur eggs, some almost whole, some broken into a few (though not many) pieces. Most interesting to me, however, was the table. On a basic, small rectangular card table, without any covering whatsoever, were dinosaur bones. The sign didn't say what kind, but there they were, just sitting on the table like sewing machines at a garage sale, waiting for someone to pick up and ask "How much for this one?" The sign did say not to touch them, but I'm a rebel, so I stroked one giant dirtied-ivory colored bone, thicker than two soda cans. The part I touched was fairly solid, but most parts looked splintered, like wood while it's burning. I did learn one thing in the museum however: Mongolia has snow leopards, though they're very, very, very rare (according to Vicky who said she watched a documentary on it, it took the BBC team three weeks to spot one and that was using the latest technology with several people, filming 24 hours a day).
Igor has not been happy with us and our poor comrade has overheated often, forcing us to get out, pour water into his engine (which is inside the car in the front seat between the driver and shotgunner, under a leather covered compartment), wait around for a while, and try again. He made it to the parking lot for the walk out to the glacier and we had lunch Selonga had prepared that morning (over-oiled fried rice with a tiny bit of mutton inside and carrots). It was only a 2 km walk to the ice and it was a very nice mostly-flat walk by a stream that became a river, through green grass that climbed onto hills that turned into small rocky mountains. Most of it reminded me of the Seven Sisters near San Luis Obispo. The ice river was rather random and seemed to just come out of nowhere so that was cool. I slid along it a bit and watched it melt away, drip by drip. It'll be gone by the time I put this post up. It was pretty but mostly just impressive because it was so surprising and random, just there. A big chunk of ice in the Gobi Desert.
While we were gone our guide Erka had taken part of Igor's engine apart in an attempt to fix it and we had to wait for about an hour and a half after we got back for him to put it back together, and it only seemed to work marginally better.
Since we were so far behind schedule, we decided to stay nearby for the night. It was a fantastic decision as the place we found was a lovely, tiny village with a population of 50 or so. It was the sort of country, self-sufficient area Mao probably had wet dreams about. One interesting thing was that this tiny place had a basketball court and a basic elliptical with some other basic exercise equipment. In Northern Asia, I've noticed that in general, they seem to pay much more attention to their youth and old. For the young, there are many more options for things to do at night and on weekends like; video arcades (ubiquitous and larger and more extensive than in the U.S.), jimjillbangs and manga libraries/ internet cafes (again, better than those we have in the West). For the geriatric set, I've particularly noticed that several of the parks that have areas and exercise equipment specifically set off for Seniors (I know this because they have English signs) to keep them active and encourage physical and mental activity until they die.
Anyway, it was a lovely little area. After dinner and a walk around, I saw a group of men leaving the largest house (likely a school/ community center) who were dressed in red and blue briefs. They got into cars and drove off. Soon afterwards I left too and walked back to our ger camp.
As I walked over the hill, I could see that the cars had stopped just in front of our group of five gers and that all the tourists were sitting in about a third of a circle and the men in briefs were inside the part of the circle they'd created.
My guide said they were going to do a show for us, and that it was 4,000 per person (about $3) to watch. It looked interesting, so I said I would and sat down. They'd already started a bit but when they started a new round, the two men would stand from about fifty feet back, then slapped the front of their thighs twice, then slapped their butts then slowly jogged over to their referee (there were always at least two). Just before reaching their designated referee, they'd start to do this very slow movement of flapping their arms up and down, in a way that was supposed to represent a hawk. I imagine it was supposed to seem elegant and smooth, but it just managed to look idiotic. They'd "swoop" around their referee three times and then the referee would pat them on the shoulder and they'd go to dance circles with the other fighter. At some point, they'd embrace and be locked in a hug for ages until one finally made some movement that knocked the other off balance. You lost when your hands, knees or elbows touched the ground. It wasn't very active and most of the time the wrestlers weren't really moving, which is why they had two or three fights all going on at the same time. It seemed to be a bit of a psychological game in a way, but it also seemed that the men who looked the worst in their briefs, chubby bellies overhanging them, did the best. It was really neat to watch, and I got a picture with them afterwards, though not a very good one. Two of the tourist guys tried a match and one of them, who said he'd had some karate training, did okay. The other one was flat on his back in about ten seconds.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Riding the Rails on the Trans- Siberian
6/29
At this very moment, I'm on the Trans-Mongolian train from Beijing to Ulan Bator, a branch of the most famous railroad in the world, the Trans-Siberian. We left Beijing, a long flat city with wide streets and wound our way through mountains and gorges, similar to what you'd expect China to look like, emerging suddenly from the bottom waste into the sky, looming over you unexpectedly. Some of the cliffs were so high that craning your neck still didn't mean you'd see the top and they were covered in a blend of the dirt, granite and dark green vegetation.
The dirt morphed several times within five minute and we saw it as sand, slate, the pinkish-mauve of dried blood, orange and browned crap. Our pine green train, decorated with a red star and Russian letters, passed rice paddies and other agriculture, industrial cities, small towns with predominately roofless sandy-pink brick houses, long flat plains, some marred by large, deep scars, and rolling hills.
Just now, as the dirty flat earth and bland water-retaining green reflected bits of the rusty dregs of sunset, we passed into desert. It was an okay sunset, not great- not like a California sunset or a Swiss one, but pretty enough with primary colored striations in the sky. I love watching that moment when the very last bit of the sun disappears and it's the witching hour.
Some call that dusk or twilight or l'heure bleu, but there's something special about it that's missing at all other times. It's a time of suspended possibilities. The only other time I like as much is at around 3 a.m. when everyone's asleep and for a while, the world is yours.
Unfortunately, my cabinmate, who I think is really odd anyway, since she just stares at me for fairly long periods of time for no reason LIKE SHE IS RIGHT NOW, tried to interrupt. It was also really annoying because I was obviously busy and annoyed at the two stupid, loud Australians who were standing directly in front of our door so we couldn't just watch from our compartment (and note here that all compartments have the same view so they had no reason to be in our way, they just were).
Said cabinmate is also completely pathetic, and a bitch. There were problems with me sitting in another cabin (when it was totally legal and legitimate) and she called me slow or said I was just wrong. Now, she's complaining about having the fan on (and it's hot) because it's too loud for her to sleep (supposedly) and hurts her eyes because apparently she's some little princess. I told her she should have earplugs and an eyemask or take a plane. I have no pity for pathetic losers who wallow in their own crap, nor for weakness. Man up. I've had to and I know it's not easy, but if you can't eventually, then you're not worth my time.
Since leaving the gorges, the scenery's been quite boring. Currently, we're at Erlian, the Chinese/Mongolian border and we'll be waiting here for three hours while they change the wheels, since Russian trains (and Mongolian trains which were built under the Russian system) were built six inches farther apart than most other train lines in the world. We can't get off during that time.
Except, of course, that soon after I wrote that, we were all forced off, despite what I'd been told earlier. We've now been here for nearly four hours (I was originally told six, then three, then two- it ended up being almost exactly four in the end) with no signs of moving and not allowed to use the bathroom for the last hour because the workers are a bunch of lazy assholes. So I had to pee in between the cars, you know, in one of those connecting points in between, the compartments that look like accordians, while a girl watched for me. I'd considered actually peeing on the carpet in front of the jerks who refused to unlock the bathroom for me (for absolutely no reason) but then I would've had to pee on myself and who knows what kind of trouble I could've gotten into. It wasn't worth the risk, but damn it would've been good.
The train itself is okay and though a bit old, it's in decent shape and has Western-style toilets. Our cabin is fine- it helps that they are enclosed and that in mine, only two of the four beds are occupied. Unfortunately, the restaurant car has terrible food. Not just bad, like in most of China, but I'd-almost-rather-starve-than-eat-it awful. It's greasy, gross, oversalted (and I normally like a lot of salt) and overpriced. On all the other trains I've been on, people have come through with carts offering different options, but on this train, they don't. Usually, there are also carts outside of trains at the station stops with prepackaged takeaway snack food but of all our stops so far, only one has had these and the only edible thing they had was bowls of noodles- nothing resembling chips, crackers, peanuts or candy, which they almost always have.
I'm very glad I'm traveling with Steph on this journey so I have someone to talk to and play cards with, though I also brought five books to keep me occupied. Her cabinmates, luckily, are two very decent (though one is extremely chauvinistic) Australian girls who I've enjoyed talking to.
I always think that I need a man like a turtle needs a fork, but I just now realized that I actually do. Without a man, I have no one to open my beer for me when a bottle opener is unavailable. I mean, I guess I'd keep the guy around for other reasons as well, but his primary purpose would be to open my beer bottles (currently 600 mL Tsing tao). Of course, I could just get a bottle opener. It wouldn't whine, though I suppose it does just lie around a lot. It would never be selfish, or in fact, expect anything from me save that I continue drinking. And it would never say or do anything unimaginably idiotic or disappoint or leave me.
But, it probably wouldn't smell nice. It definitely couldn't kiss me. A bottle opener, no matter how pretty, would never be as attractive as expressive eyes or strong arms and it could never surprise me and say the right thing either.
6/30
Arrived in Mongolia after waking up to discover they'd somehow changed the Chinese cafeteria-like dining car into this gorgeous wood-carved Mongolian style one. Rather bizarrely, the landscape and weather here remind me more of the area I grew up in than anywhere else I've ever traveled. Obviously the streets are dirtier, there are homeless people and street kids, fewer traffic lights, and gers instead of houses but otherwise, based on the way it looks, combined with the fauna and rolling hills, I could easily be in Paso Robles. It's rather strange and keeps surprising me.
Steffi and I got off the train and said goodbye to the Aussie girls and found the sign with my name on it from a man from the guesthouse since I'd emailed and booked us in ahead and checked into UB Guesthouse.
I got money out, but Steffi couldn't since her card wasn't working so we spent the rest of the day trying to get that fixed and trying to find a hostel we could stay in during Naadam, the largest festival in Mongolia which runs from July 11-13 (though apparently all the activities- wrestling, archery and horse racing- finish within the first two days and the third is reserved for celebrating by drinking vodka and beer) so there's no way I'm going to miss that. Every one we tried was booked out which was frustrating, but we stopped in a cheap bar-restaurant for dinner and had some beef goulash served with rice for dinner. It was quite good and the meat was very tender but not super-flavorful, though I was so happy to be eating meat again, I didn't mind as much as Steffi (who's German), who told me her Dad's was better.
7/1
Steffi got her money worked out and we went to check her in for her tour. I wasn't going on it with her since her tour sounded a little bit too hard-core for me and didn't go to the places I wanted to go. While she did her introduction class, I shopped around for tours and had difficulty finding one that left at the right time, went the right places and cost the right amount. I Skyped my Mom for a while but she was busy as she and my stepdad were moving out of their apartment to go live on their boat at that very moment (they left soon after I called) so we didn't talk for long. Steffi came back and we went out for lunch, where I had something that was called barbeque but was basically goulash. It was good though, and very cheap at 3800 turgish (about $2.65 USD).
She went to sort out her money and I went to look for more tours. I found a notice from a British couple at a guest house looking for more people to go on the tour with them. They wanted to go on exactly the same tour I wanted to go on, leave ASAP, as I did, and it was the right price. I left a note with my email that the hostel owner promised to give to them and hoped it would work. I did laundry and then checked my emailed and they'd emailed me telling me they were going to meet at 7 p.m. to book it and to meet them there. Steffi had sorted her money out thanks to her cute, smart brother (who I'm going to meet when I eventually visit her in Germany) so she paid me back what I'd loaned her and we went to check out another hostel for Naadam. We finally found one, even though some things seemed odd about it, and paid for the first two nights. I went to the meeting and we were able to organize and book the tour with six people, a guide and a driver at a rate of $32 USD per day including everything.
So tomorrow I leave on a nine day/eight night tour around Southern Mongolia, during which time I'll see the Gobi Desert, ruined temples, a waterfall, and hot springs. We'll all sleep in gers (traditional nomadic Mongolian houses/tents), eat Mongolian food, ride camels and horses, drive for hours and hours, and get to take two showers.
Tonight, our whole group went out for Italian food at Veranda, a restaurant recommended by the Lonely Planet, which Vicky and Craig (the Brits) seem to regard as holy and virtually infallible. The restaurant was actually very nice and my dish, penne in a gorgonzola sauce with crispy bacon bits and shredded parmesean cheese, was very good and only cost 10,000 turgish (around $7 USD).
At this very moment, I'm on the Trans-Mongolian train from Beijing to Ulan Bator, a branch of the most famous railroad in the world, the Trans-Siberian. We left Beijing, a long flat city with wide streets and wound our way through mountains and gorges, similar to what you'd expect China to look like, emerging suddenly from the bottom waste into the sky, looming over you unexpectedly. Some of the cliffs were so high that craning your neck still didn't mean you'd see the top and they were covered in a blend of the dirt, granite and dark green vegetation.
The dirt morphed several times within five minute and we saw it as sand, slate, the pinkish-mauve of dried blood, orange and browned crap. Our pine green train, decorated with a red star and Russian letters, passed rice paddies and other agriculture, industrial cities, small towns with predominately roofless sandy-pink brick houses, long flat plains, some marred by large, deep scars, and rolling hills.
Just now, as the dirty flat earth and bland water-retaining green reflected bits of the rusty dregs of sunset, we passed into desert. It was an okay sunset, not great- not like a California sunset or a Swiss one, but pretty enough with primary colored striations in the sky. I love watching that moment when the very last bit of the sun disappears and it's the witching hour.
Some call that dusk or twilight or l'heure bleu, but there's something special about it that's missing at all other times. It's a time of suspended possibilities. The only other time I like as much is at around 3 a.m. when everyone's asleep and for a while, the world is yours.
Unfortunately, my cabinmate, who I think is really odd anyway, since she just stares at me for fairly long periods of time for no reason LIKE SHE IS RIGHT NOW, tried to interrupt. It was also really annoying because I was obviously busy and annoyed at the two stupid, loud Australians who were standing directly in front of our door so we couldn't just watch from our compartment (and note here that all compartments have the same view so they had no reason to be in our way, they just were).
Said cabinmate is also completely pathetic, and a bitch. There were problems with me sitting in another cabin (when it was totally legal and legitimate) and she called me slow or said I was just wrong. Now, she's complaining about having the fan on (and it's hot) because it's too loud for her to sleep (supposedly) and hurts her eyes because apparently she's some little princess. I told her she should have earplugs and an eyemask or take a plane. I have no pity for pathetic losers who wallow in their own crap, nor for weakness. Man up. I've had to and I know it's not easy, but if you can't eventually, then you're not worth my time.
Since leaving the gorges, the scenery's been quite boring. Currently, we're at Erlian, the Chinese/Mongolian border and we'll be waiting here for three hours while they change the wheels, since Russian trains (and Mongolian trains which were built under the Russian system) were built six inches farther apart than most other train lines in the world. We can't get off during that time.
Except, of course, that soon after I wrote that, we were all forced off, despite what I'd been told earlier. We've now been here for nearly four hours (I was originally told six, then three, then two- it ended up being almost exactly four in the end) with no signs of moving and not allowed to use the bathroom for the last hour because the workers are a bunch of lazy assholes. So I had to pee in between the cars, you know, in one of those connecting points in between, the compartments that look like accordians, while a girl watched for me. I'd considered actually peeing on the carpet in front of the jerks who refused to unlock the bathroom for me (for absolutely no reason) but then I would've had to pee on myself and who knows what kind of trouble I could've gotten into. It wasn't worth the risk, but damn it would've been good.
The train itself is okay and though a bit old, it's in decent shape and has Western-style toilets. Our cabin is fine- it helps that they are enclosed and that in mine, only two of the four beds are occupied. Unfortunately, the restaurant car has terrible food. Not just bad, like in most of China, but I'd-almost-rather-starve-than-eat-it awful. It's greasy, gross, oversalted (and I normally like a lot of salt) and overpriced. On all the other trains I've been on, people have come through with carts offering different options, but on this train, they don't. Usually, there are also carts outside of trains at the station stops with prepackaged takeaway snack food but of all our stops so far, only one has had these and the only edible thing they had was bowls of noodles- nothing resembling chips, crackers, peanuts or candy, which they almost always have.
I'm very glad I'm traveling with Steph on this journey so I have someone to talk to and play cards with, though I also brought five books to keep me occupied. Her cabinmates, luckily, are two very decent (though one is extremely chauvinistic) Australian girls who I've enjoyed talking to.
I always think that I need a man like a turtle needs a fork, but I just now realized that I actually do. Without a man, I have no one to open my beer for me when a bottle opener is unavailable. I mean, I guess I'd keep the guy around for other reasons as well, but his primary purpose would be to open my beer bottles (currently 600 mL Tsing tao). Of course, I could just get a bottle opener. It wouldn't whine, though I suppose it does just lie around a lot. It would never be selfish, or in fact, expect anything from me save that I continue drinking. And it would never say or do anything unimaginably idiotic or disappoint or leave me.
But, it probably wouldn't smell nice. It definitely couldn't kiss me. A bottle opener, no matter how pretty, would never be as attractive as expressive eyes or strong arms and it could never surprise me and say the right thing either.
6/30
Arrived in Mongolia after waking up to discover they'd somehow changed the Chinese cafeteria-like dining car into this gorgeous wood-carved Mongolian style one. Rather bizarrely, the landscape and weather here remind me more of the area I grew up in than anywhere else I've ever traveled. Obviously the streets are dirtier, there are homeless people and street kids, fewer traffic lights, and gers instead of houses but otherwise, based on the way it looks, combined with the fauna and rolling hills, I could easily be in Paso Robles. It's rather strange and keeps surprising me.
Steffi and I got off the train and said goodbye to the Aussie girls and found the sign with my name on it from a man from the guesthouse since I'd emailed and booked us in ahead and checked into UB Guesthouse.
I got money out, but Steffi couldn't since her card wasn't working so we spent the rest of the day trying to get that fixed and trying to find a hostel we could stay in during Naadam, the largest festival in Mongolia which runs from July 11-13 (though apparently all the activities- wrestling, archery and horse racing- finish within the first two days and the third is reserved for celebrating by drinking vodka and beer) so there's no way I'm going to miss that. Every one we tried was booked out which was frustrating, but we stopped in a cheap bar-restaurant for dinner and had some beef goulash served with rice for dinner. It was quite good and the meat was very tender but not super-flavorful, though I was so happy to be eating meat again, I didn't mind as much as Steffi (who's German), who told me her Dad's was better.
7/1
Steffi got her money worked out and we went to check her in for her tour. I wasn't going on it with her since her tour sounded a little bit too hard-core for me and didn't go to the places I wanted to go. While she did her introduction class, I shopped around for tours and had difficulty finding one that left at the right time, went the right places and cost the right amount. I Skyped my Mom for a while but she was busy as she and my stepdad were moving out of their apartment to go live on their boat at that very moment (they left soon after I called) so we didn't talk for long. Steffi came back and we went out for lunch, where I had something that was called barbeque but was basically goulash. It was good though, and very cheap at 3800 turgish (about $2.65 USD).
She went to sort out her money and I went to look for more tours. I found a notice from a British couple at a guest house looking for more people to go on the tour with them. They wanted to go on exactly the same tour I wanted to go on, leave ASAP, as I did, and it was the right price. I left a note with my email that the hostel owner promised to give to them and hoped it would work. I did laundry and then checked my emailed and they'd emailed me telling me they were going to meet at 7 p.m. to book it and to meet them there. Steffi had sorted her money out thanks to her cute, smart brother (who I'm going to meet when I eventually visit her in Germany) so she paid me back what I'd loaned her and we went to check out another hostel for Naadam. We finally found one, even though some things seemed odd about it, and paid for the first two nights. I went to the meeting and we were able to organize and book the tour with six people, a guide and a driver at a rate of $32 USD per day including everything.
So tomorrow I leave on a nine day/eight night tour around Southern Mongolia, during which time I'll see the Gobi Desert, ruined temples, a waterfall, and hot springs. We'll all sleep in gers (traditional nomadic Mongolian houses/tents), eat Mongolian food, ride camels and horses, drive for hours and hours, and get to take two showers.
Tonight, our whole group went out for Italian food at Veranda, a restaurant recommended by the Lonely Planet, which Vicky and Craig (the Brits) seem to regard as holy and virtually infallible. The restaurant was actually very nice and my dish, penne in a gorgonzola sauce with crispy bacon bits and shredded parmesean cheese, was very good and only cost 10,000 turgish (around $7 USD).
Peking Duck, Take #2
6/26
Got into Beijing and got the bus to the hostel (the one around the corner from the one I'd stayed at previously) I'd wanted to stay at without too much trouble for 1RMB instead of taking the easy way out and getting at 17 kwai cab. Unfortunately that hostel was full, so I was back at my other one, though I don't mind too much- they're the same price and the other one was only marginally better. I got breakfast and wrote for quite a while, got cash out, then walked over to the International Hotel where I bought my ticket to Ulan Bator ($172 USD- but it's a LONG distance and a 30 hour train ride). I'd considered buying it online previously but had heard it was much cheaper to buy in Beijing and it was. By getting it here (which was surprisingly simple and straightforward and took all of about five minutes,) I saved about $200- and keep in mind that's $200 U.S. dollars. I walked back, making it a 5km walk for the morning, checked my facebook and Skyped my Mom and Grandma again- all before noon.
I felt quite smug by the time I got lunch at a place nearby that I knew was at least decent. Most of the things listed above sound so easy, but in China I've had days where getting cash out and going one place took me hours and was incredibly frustrating, so I have to appreciate the things that do go well, even if they're only simple errands. And since it's so rare for me to feel self-satisfied and proud, I'm enjoying it immensely. I even managed to read a few pages of the Motorcycle Diaries (which I'm STILL slugging through), talked to two people in my room, organized my photos and renewed my medical insurance. It's 5 p.m. right now and I'm even considering going for a run, taking a shower and a nap before watching the U.S.- Ghana World Cup game at 2:30 a.m. That, or anything else I could possibly do today, will just be whipped cream on top.
In my room, that night, I met Steffi, a cool German girl, and two very petite girls (one Chinese, one Australian) who lived near Urumqi, in Northwestern China. They invited us to come to dinner with them at a place that served traditional food from that area so we went. The kebabs were good, but everything else was average to disappointing.
6/27
After my super-effective day, I didn't do that much really but I met two girls in my room who I really, really liked and felt like I could actually talk to and really connect with. It was also exciting because one of them was the solo American female traveler I've been searching for! She actually isn't traveling in the same way right now (she's a teacher in Korea) but had previously and was planning to again in the future. The other was a German girl, Steffi, who's also traveling alone and is going on the train the same day I am so I'm going to hang out with her. It just always feels so refreshing to have real conversations because so often it's little more than "whereareyoufrom, whatareyourplans, blah, blah, same old, same old," and it's like you're spending a lot of time talking to people and saying absolutely nothing.
I went with the American (I can't remember her name now and she never emailed like she said she would) to the Donghuamen market (tourist place with weird food) though the only thing I got was some semi-dried shark (at least that's what they said) that I shared with her that was better than expected.
At night, the three of us went out, drank a lot of cheap beer and played a great game of Kings. It was a really wonderful, but still somewhat low-key (though late), evening. It was also nice because the two of them brought out some of the best in me, and I love that person I am at my best- she's fun and interesting and just that girl in the room that everyone adores. Most of the time I'm not that girl, and I don't even always aspire to be her because the calmer, quieter me has her own merits as well, but when I am that higher me it's fun and I'm happy and I love it/life/her.
6/28
All three of us woke up quite late and went for lunch at the decent place I knew nearby. None of us felt compelled to do anything adventurous so we wandered for a while, looking through the nearby hutong tourist market until the American girl decided she wanted to dye her hair blue. So, since I would've otherwise just screwed along online I, and Steffi, went with her. The search took us all afternoon, to several different stores, and two hair salons, but no one had blue hair dye that you could just buy and do yourself. We even saw a group of Chinese girls with bright (and incredibly well-done) blue hair and asked them, but they were cosmetology students and had mixed it and done it themselves. They took a picture with us and we continued our quest, but eventually we gave up and found a place with very cheap peking duck for dinner so they could try it. It was okay, marginally better than my first try, but still not great or remotely impressive. Neither of them had ever tried it though and they both liked it so that made me happy. The American girl left that evening on a train to Xi'an and Steffi and I went to bed early, planning to get up at 5:30.
At 4:20 a.m. I was woken up by feverish whispering from the two petite girls in my room. Apparently the 35 year old English woman who had just moved in that day had gotten drunk, stripped off all her clothes and climbed, naked, into the Australian girl's bed. The Australian girl had freaked out and the English girl had managed to get into her own bed, but not before peeing on the floor. The petite Australian girl and the petite Chinese girl had then decided it was necessary to loudly whisper about it for nearly an hour so I couldn't get back to sleep before it was time to get up for the train anyway.
Got into Beijing and got the bus to the hostel (the one around the corner from the one I'd stayed at previously) I'd wanted to stay at without too much trouble for 1RMB instead of taking the easy way out and getting at 17 kwai cab. Unfortunately that hostel was full, so I was back at my other one, though I don't mind too much- they're the same price and the other one was only marginally better. I got breakfast and wrote for quite a while, got cash out, then walked over to the International Hotel where I bought my ticket to Ulan Bator ($172 USD- but it's a LONG distance and a 30 hour train ride). I'd considered buying it online previously but had heard it was much cheaper to buy in Beijing and it was. By getting it here (which was surprisingly simple and straightforward and took all of about five minutes,) I saved about $200- and keep in mind that's $200 U.S. dollars. I walked back, making it a 5km walk for the morning, checked my facebook and Skyped my Mom and Grandma again- all before noon.
I felt quite smug by the time I got lunch at a place nearby that I knew was at least decent. Most of the things listed above sound so easy, but in China I've had days where getting cash out and going one place took me hours and was incredibly frustrating, so I have to appreciate the things that do go well, even if they're only simple errands. And since it's so rare for me to feel self-satisfied and proud, I'm enjoying it immensely. I even managed to read a few pages of the Motorcycle Diaries (which I'm STILL slugging through), talked to two people in my room, organized my photos and renewed my medical insurance. It's 5 p.m. right now and I'm even considering going for a run, taking a shower and a nap before watching the U.S.- Ghana World Cup game at 2:30 a.m. That, or anything else I could possibly do today, will just be whipped cream on top.
In my room, that night, I met Steffi, a cool German girl, and two very petite girls (one Chinese, one Australian) who lived near Urumqi, in Northwestern China. They invited us to come to dinner with them at a place that served traditional food from that area so we went. The kebabs were good, but everything else was average to disappointing.
6/27
After my super-effective day, I didn't do that much really but I met two girls in my room who I really, really liked and felt like I could actually talk to and really connect with. It was also exciting because one of them was the solo American female traveler I've been searching for! She actually isn't traveling in the same way right now (she's a teacher in Korea) but had previously and was planning to again in the future. The other was a German girl, Steffi, who's also traveling alone and is going on the train the same day I am so I'm going to hang out with her. It just always feels so refreshing to have real conversations because so often it's little more than "whereareyoufrom, whatareyourplans, blah, blah, same old, same old," and it's like you're spending a lot of time talking to people and saying absolutely nothing.
I went with the American (I can't remember her name now and she never emailed like she said she would) to the Donghuamen market (tourist place with weird food) though the only thing I got was some semi-dried shark (at least that's what they said) that I shared with her that was better than expected.
At night, the three of us went out, drank a lot of cheap beer and played a great game of Kings. It was a really wonderful, but still somewhat low-key (though late), evening. It was also nice because the two of them brought out some of the best in me, and I love that person I am at my best- she's fun and interesting and just that girl in the room that everyone adores. Most of the time I'm not that girl, and I don't even always aspire to be her because the calmer, quieter me has her own merits as well, but when I am that higher me it's fun and I'm happy and I love it/life/her.
6/28
All three of us woke up quite late and went for lunch at the decent place I knew nearby. None of us felt compelled to do anything adventurous so we wandered for a while, looking through the nearby hutong tourist market until the American girl decided she wanted to dye her hair blue. So, since I would've otherwise just screwed along online I, and Steffi, went with her. The search took us all afternoon, to several different stores, and two hair salons, but no one had blue hair dye that you could just buy and do yourself. We even saw a group of Chinese girls with bright (and incredibly well-done) blue hair and asked them, but they were cosmetology students and had mixed it and done it themselves. They took a picture with us and we continued our quest, but eventually we gave up and found a place with very cheap peking duck for dinner so they could try it. It was okay, marginally better than my first try, but still not great or remotely impressive. Neither of them had ever tried it though and they both liked it so that made me happy. The American girl left that evening on a train to Xi'an and Steffi and I went to bed early, planning to get up at 5:30.
At 4:20 a.m. I was woken up by feverish whispering from the two petite girls in my room. Apparently the 35 year old English woman who had just moved in that day had gotten drunk, stripped off all her clothes and climbed, naked, into the Australian girl's bed. The Australian girl had freaked out and the English girl had managed to get into her own bed, but not before peeing on the floor. The petite Australian girl and the petite Chinese girl had then decided it was necessary to loudly whisper about it for nearly an hour so I couldn't get back to sleep before it was time to get up for the train anyway.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
World Cup Analysis
6/24
I had a slight hangover today so I mostly just sat around all day, reading a Sookie Stackhouse series book and avoiding making any actual decisions. Oddly, this inactivity had a great effect on me and after feeling a bit off and in a funk for the past two weeks, I'm suddenly feeling more like myself; happier and more excited about life in general. Since the 20RMB/day ($3) I'm paying for my dorm room includes a free beer at their bar, I went down with Georgina, a very nice British girl spending a month traveling in China before going to Uni to study Chinese. We played several games of foosball and I won every single one (and not by a small margin either). I'm not sure if she was really that bad and paying that little attention to the game or if I've gotten much better, but it was fun to win, as I rarely do at games like that (or even just games in general).
So often it seems that the Chinese are quite bipolar as a culture. At least to me, people have mostly been either very kind or extremely rude with very few in between.
6/25
World Cup Thoughts:
a) #11 Slovenia looks like a serial killer. I just need to say that. I feel a little threatened anytime he comes on screen.
b) New Zealand's team is quite attractive, just in general.
c) We're doing quite well. I believe we're #1 in our group and we play Ghana at 2:30 a.m. Sunday morning here. I will definitely stay up to watch.
d) It's (usually) not quite as boring to watch if you're drinking in a pub environment with people who are really excited about it.
e) The vuvuzela's really not that bad, it just sounds kind of like a swarm of bees, a slightly irritating background noise.
f) Australia's team is a terrible representation of their level of attractiveness. Most Australian men I saw/ met were quite hot, though douchey. This team may well be douchey, but they're definitely not cute.
So today, I caught the overnight train back to Beijing so I can go to Mongolia from there. I just have to do the planning, like, any and all of it. On my way to the bus stop by the train station, I noticed I was right next to the Hongqiao thing and culture street so I wandered around there for a short while. It was cute but not wildly exciting, but I enjoyed just looking at all the calligraphy instruments they had for sale.
I had a slight hangover today so I mostly just sat around all day, reading a Sookie Stackhouse series book and avoiding making any actual decisions. Oddly, this inactivity had a great effect on me and after feeling a bit off and in a funk for the past two weeks, I'm suddenly feeling more like myself; happier and more excited about life in general. Since the 20RMB/day ($3) I'm paying for my dorm room includes a free beer at their bar, I went down with Georgina, a very nice British girl spending a month traveling in China before going to Uni to study Chinese. We played several games of foosball and I won every single one (and not by a small margin either). I'm not sure if she was really that bad and paying that little attention to the game or if I've gotten much better, but it was fun to win, as I rarely do at games like that (or even just games in general).
So often it seems that the Chinese are quite bipolar as a culture. At least to me, people have mostly been either very kind or extremely rude with very few in between.
6/25
World Cup Thoughts:
a) #11 Slovenia looks like a serial killer. I just need to say that. I feel a little threatened anytime he comes on screen.
b) New Zealand's team is quite attractive, just in general.
c) We're doing quite well. I believe we're #1 in our group and we play Ghana at 2:30 a.m. Sunday morning here. I will definitely stay up to watch.
d) It's (usually) not quite as boring to watch if you're drinking in a pub environment with people who are really excited about it.
e) The vuvuzela's really not that bad, it just sounds kind of like a swarm of bees, a slightly irritating background noise.
f) Australia's team is a terrible representation of their level of attractiveness. Most Australian men I saw/ met were quite hot, though douchey. This team may well be douchey, but they're definitely not cute.
So today, I caught the overnight train back to Beijing so I can go to Mongolia from there. I just have to do the planning, like, any and all of it. On my way to the bus stop by the train station, I noticed I was right next to the Hongqiao thing and culture street so I wandered around there for a short while. It was cute but not wildly exciting, but I enjoyed just looking at all the calligraphy instruments they had for sale.
Face to Terracotta Face
6/23
Busy day. I decided to go on a tour to see the Terracotta Warriors after much internal debate because it would've cost me at least 80 yuan (and I don't know if I've explained this, but RMB/yuan/kwai are all the same value, it's the equivalent of USD/dollar/buck or GBP/pound/quid) to go by myself and the tour was 190, but that included lunch, an English tour guide, an air-conditioned van to get me there and a stop at the Temple of the Eight Immortals (the royal temple in Xi'an). As it turned out, the tour was an excellent decision, mostly due to our wonderful guide, Jaija.
Jaija, whose name I remember because she said we could call her Lady Ja Ja, spoke very good English with an understandable accent and was very knowledgeable. Just as importantly, however, she was fun. She was adorable, really, and happy and excited the whole time and managed to unite our group and really bring us out.
The terracotta warriors were impressive, but didn't wow me as expected. They were cool and I was glad I'd gone but I guess I felt like seeing them in person wasn't really that much more exciting than seeing photographs of them. Some of the details were quite impressive though, and the number itself (8,000 total, not all visible or reconstructed yet) was astonishing. I do want to tell you a bit about the man who ordered them built though, as he's quite fascinating- my favorite Chinese historical figure so far besides Empress Xixi.
Emperor Qin ascended the throne as King of the State of Qin at age 13, and in the year 221 B.C., he unified China, which he ruled for eleven years, until he died at 49, completely insane at the end. In that time, he became the first Emperor of China by ruthlessly uniting the warring provinces, started the construction of, and completed the first section of, the Great Wall, built most of the terracotta army and drank mercury every day.
The mercury was supposed to make him immortal and a river of mercury still runs inside his mountain tomb 1.5 km away from the warriors, which is why it's not open to visit. He believed that the mercury would allow him to have a sort of afterlife and the warriors were there to protect/fight for him during said afterlife. They were never supposed to be uncovered.
I'm sure you know that what makes the terracotta warriors so special is the fact that all of the faces are unique but you may not know that they were modeled after real workers at the time. The paid for their artistic immortality with their mortal lives as the Emperor didn't want anyone making copies.
If you'd like to see a very good and truly aesthetic movie about China, the uniting of China and Emperor Qin, I highly recommend watching Hero with Jet Li. Great movie, and from what I've seen, it does a good job of showing the different landscapes of China.
Also, random, but did you know Mulan was based on a true story?
So, it was neat. The lunch was absolute crap and the temple was not particularly special, though they had a bunch of peacocks and I thought it was funny that they had six male peacocks for the single peahen.
I guess I just had some extra energy and was afraid I wouldn't have another chance to, but I decided this evening would be a good time to do my bike ride on the city wall. I knew it was 40RMB to get in, though only 20 with my student ID) and another 20 to rent the bicycle. Unfortunately, no one had bothered to tell me (of the several people I'd spoken to about it) that a 200RMB deposit was required and that the woman renting them was going to be a heinous bitch about it. I curse a bit regularly, but I try to keep this blog pretty clean but this woman was so awful I wanted to throttle her. I only had 100 on me for the deposit (besides the 20 for the rental) so I offered her my student ID and my debit card as a deposit in addition to the 100. She said she couldn't take it and refused to look at me and started helping someone else. The customer service here is awful in general and they are terribly rude and dismissive like that commonly but this witch was even more so.
Sometimes, things are impossible due to language difficulties. I get that and am always willing to pay for mistakes due to that since I'm the one who doesn't speak the language properly. Sometimes, things are impossible due to crap/ unfair company policies which the person can't change. I get that too, and try not to get angry or be rude to the representative who has no say in the policies they're required to enforce.
Neither was the case here. The woman was just being a bitch because she could and she felt like it (and incidentally, the second is virtually never the case in China) when I'd been very polite but was obviously desperate as the only reason I'd paid the entrance fee to do this. She wouldn't help me at all and it was the only place I could see where I could rent a bicycle so I couldn't just go somewhere else (though I later saw that there was another place to do so on the other side, but run by the same company). When it became clear that she wasn't going to help me and was pretending her English was significantly less than it was, I got pissed and went downstairs. I explained to the guard that since I couldn't rent a bicycle, I wanted a refund because I didn't want to see any of it except by bike. He got his manager and she said that it would be fine with my debit card, and later, that it would be fine with just 100 deposit. She radioed someone and said I could go back up to the wall and it would be okay.
It wasn't. The same awful woman still said I couldn't (and admittedly, I was being quite rude back at this point) and refused to help me in any way, or even look at me. I grabbed the radio, assuming that if I said something the manager (of the wall, I should explain, not of the company renting the bikes) would come up and help me so I said "Hello, no one is helping me at all up here," and heard nothing back. I went over to a group of men who also worked for the company and said I wanted to speak to the boss and they said the woman was the boss. I told them I just wanted to rent a bike but only had 100, and one of the men said I could. I told him that she wouldn't let me and he went around and made her take it. Finally. The entire ordeal took over 30 minutes and was incredibly frustrating, even more so when someone later told me they'd only had to deposit 200 total for three people. I don't know what that woman's problem was. I really was very nice at the beginning and she just decided to screw with my head for no reason. Also, this is a good example of a time when I am willing to make a big deal of something and argue it because I was being screwed over for absolutely no logical reason whatsoever (like one of the two listed above).
It really did ruin the entire experience for me. I was so upset. You can say I shouldn't have let it bother me so much, but screw you, it did and I did let it. It also just wasn't that fun or exciting in general. Yes, it was cool to ride a bike on top of a huge city wall, but the scenery wasn't diverse, interesting or pretty, it was just boring and repetitive.
Upon returning my bike after the 20-30 km ride, the bitch told me "You're over-time." I sure as hell was not. It was 8:30 on the dot, the time they closed, and I was supposed to have it for 100 minutes up until then, which I would've had if she hadn't delayed me for 30 at the beginning. As it was, I'd only had it for about 75. So no, I definitely wasn't. I grabbed my 100 that she put down on the table, not even handing it to me, and told her "Screw you, you stupid bitch," and stormed off. And no, I'm not the slightest bit ashamed of what I said and I think she deserved that and more.
Eventually I calmed down- my daily free beer from the hostel bar helped, and started talking to a group of people who gave me a free beer because they somehow had many extras, like four per person at the table. We started to play Kings, drank for quite a while longer and then went down to the bar to watch the World Cup games. England was playing Slovenia at the same time the U.S. was playing Algeria and both England and the U.S. needed decisive victories to continue onto the next round. The bar was only playing England's game, which sucked, but I wasn't going to make any really serious effort to watch it somewhere else so I watched that. Halfway through the game, a group of Americans convinced the bartenders to switch one of the tvs to the U.S. game. I didn't realize this until a bit later, but still soon enough to join them to watch Landon Donovan score an awesome goal. It was really fun to watch in a bar with so many people so excited about the games. Both the U.S. and England won their games, 1-0 and as there weren't many (any?) Slovenians or Algerians at the hostel, everyone was happy and excited.
With the group of Americans, and at least one English girl and two English guys, we decided to continue drinking somewhere else. We ended up as a club, whose English name was "Club," and after drinking lots more, including more beer and more of the gratis Jaeger and Red Bull type mix the Chinese love to give us foreigners, and talking to a bunch more random people, some who spoke English and some who didn't, I eventually got home and went to bed, drunk, but not too much so.
Busy day. I decided to go on a tour to see the Terracotta Warriors after much internal debate because it would've cost me at least 80 yuan (and I don't know if I've explained this, but RMB/yuan/kwai are all the same value, it's the equivalent of USD/dollar/buck or GBP/pound/quid) to go by myself and the tour was 190, but that included lunch, an English tour guide, an air-conditioned van to get me there and a stop at the Temple of the Eight Immortals (the royal temple in Xi'an). As it turned out, the tour was an excellent decision, mostly due to our wonderful guide, Jaija.
Jaija, whose name I remember because she said we could call her Lady Ja Ja, spoke very good English with an understandable accent and was very knowledgeable. Just as importantly, however, she was fun. She was adorable, really, and happy and excited the whole time and managed to unite our group and really bring us out.
The terracotta warriors were impressive, but didn't wow me as expected. They were cool and I was glad I'd gone but I guess I felt like seeing them in person wasn't really that much more exciting than seeing photographs of them. Some of the details were quite impressive though, and the number itself (8,000 total, not all visible or reconstructed yet) was astonishing. I do want to tell you a bit about the man who ordered them built though, as he's quite fascinating- my favorite Chinese historical figure so far besides Empress Xixi.
Emperor Qin ascended the throne as King of the State of Qin at age 13, and in the year 221 B.C., he unified China, which he ruled for eleven years, until he died at 49, completely insane at the end. In that time, he became the first Emperor of China by ruthlessly uniting the warring provinces, started the construction of, and completed the first section of, the Great Wall, built most of the terracotta army and drank mercury every day.
The mercury was supposed to make him immortal and a river of mercury still runs inside his mountain tomb 1.5 km away from the warriors, which is why it's not open to visit. He believed that the mercury would allow him to have a sort of afterlife and the warriors were there to protect/fight for him during said afterlife. They were never supposed to be uncovered.
I'm sure you know that what makes the terracotta warriors so special is the fact that all of the faces are unique but you may not know that they were modeled after real workers at the time. The paid for their artistic immortality with their mortal lives as the Emperor didn't want anyone making copies.
If you'd like to see a very good and truly aesthetic movie about China, the uniting of China and Emperor Qin, I highly recommend watching Hero with Jet Li. Great movie, and from what I've seen, it does a good job of showing the different landscapes of China.
Also, random, but did you know Mulan was based on a true story?
So, it was neat. The lunch was absolute crap and the temple was not particularly special, though they had a bunch of peacocks and I thought it was funny that they had six male peacocks for the single peahen.
I guess I just had some extra energy and was afraid I wouldn't have another chance to, but I decided this evening would be a good time to do my bike ride on the city wall. I knew it was 40RMB to get in, though only 20 with my student ID) and another 20 to rent the bicycle. Unfortunately, no one had bothered to tell me (of the several people I'd spoken to about it) that a 200RMB deposit was required and that the woman renting them was going to be a heinous bitch about it. I curse a bit regularly, but I try to keep this blog pretty clean but this woman was so awful I wanted to throttle her. I only had 100 on me for the deposit (besides the 20 for the rental) so I offered her my student ID and my debit card as a deposit in addition to the 100. She said she couldn't take it and refused to look at me and started helping someone else. The customer service here is awful in general and they are terribly rude and dismissive like that commonly but this witch was even more so.
Sometimes, things are impossible due to language difficulties. I get that and am always willing to pay for mistakes due to that since I'm the one who doesn't speak the language properly. Sometimes, things are impossible due to crap/ unfair company policies which the person can't change. I get that too, and try not to get angry or be rude to the representative who has no say in the policies they're required to enforce.
Neither was the case here. The woman was just being a bitch because she could and she felt like it (and incidentally, the second is virtually never the case in China) when I'd been very polite but was obviously desperate as the only reason I'd paid the entrance fee to do this. She wouldn't help me at all and it was the only place I could see where I could rent a bicycle so I couldn't just go somewhere else (though I later saw that there was another place to do so on the other side, but run by the same company). When it became clear that she wasn't going to help me and was pretending her English was significantly less than it was, I got pissed and went downstairs. I explained to the guard that since I couldn't rent a bicycle, I wanted a refund because I didn't want to see any of it except by bike. He got his manager and she said that it would be fine with my debit card, and later, that it would be fine with just 100 deposit. She radioed someone and said I could go back up to the wall and it would be okay.
It wasn't. The same awful woman still said I couldn't (and admittedly, I was being quite rude back at this point) and refused to help me in any way, or even look at me. I grabbed the radio, assuming that if I said something the manager (of the wall, I should explain, not of the company renting the bikes) would come up and help me so I said "Hello, no one is helping me at all up here," and heard nothing back. I went over to a group of men who also worked for the company and said I wanted to speak to the boss and they said the woman was the boss. I told them I just wanted to rent a bike but only had 100, and one of the men said I could. I told him that she wouldn't let me and he went around and made her take it. Finally. The entire ordeal took over 30 minutes and was incredibly frustrating, even more so when someone later told me they'd only had to deposit 200 total for three people. I don't know what that woman's problem was. I really was very nice at the beginning and she just decided to screw with my head for no reason. Also, this is a good example of a time when I am willing to make a big deal of something and argue it because I was being screwed over for absolutely no logical reason whatsoever (like one of the two listed above).
It really did ruin the entire experience for me. I was so upset. You can say I shouldn't have let it bother me so much, but screw you, it did and I did let it. It also just wasn't that fun or exciting in general. Yes, it was cool to ride a bike on top of a huge city wall, but the scenery wasn't diverse, interesting or pretty, it was just boring and repetitive.
Upon returning my bike after the 20-30 km ride, the bitch told me "You're over-time." I sure as hell was not. It was 8:30 on the dot, the time they closed, and I was supposed to have it for 100 minutes up until then, which I would've had if she hadn't delayed me for 30 at the beginning. As it was, I'd only had it for about 75. So no, I definitely wasn't. I grabbed my 100 that she put down on the table, not even handing it to me, and told her "Screw you, you stupid bitch," and stormed off. And no, I'm not the slightest bit ashamed of what I said and I think she deserved that and more.
Eventually I calmed down- my daily free beer from the hostel bar helped, and started talking to a group of people who gave me a free beer because they somehow had many extras, like four per person at the table. We started to play Kings, drank for quite a while longer and then went down to the bar to watch the World Cup games. England was playing Slovenia at the same time the U.S. was playing Algeria and both England and the U.S. needed decisive victories to continue onto the next round. The bar was only playing England's game, which sucked, but I wasn't going to make any really serious effort to watch it somewhere else so I watched that. Halfway through the game, a group of Americans convinced the bartenders to switch one of the tvs to the U.S. game. I didn't realize this until a bit later, but still soon enough to join them to watch Landon Donovan score an awesome goal. It was really fun to watch in a bar with so many people so excited about the games. Both the U.S. and England won their games, 1-0 and as there weren't many (any?) Slovenians or Algerians at the hostel, everyone was happy and excited.
With the group of Americans, and at least one English girl and two English guys, we decided to continue drinking somewhere else. We ended up as a club, whose English name was "Club," and after drinking lots more, including more beer and more of the gratis Jaeger and Red Bull type mix the Chinese love to give us foreigners, and talking to a bunch more random people, some who spoke English and some who didn't, I eventually got home and went to bed, drunk, but not too much so.
The Bell Tolls For ME!
6/22
Since I'd booked this hostel ahead of time, I'd also arranged for a free pickup from the train station. My train got in at 5:22 a.m. and they'd told me previously that the service didn't start until 6 a.m. so I said I'd just wait. At about 6:10 there was still no sign of anyone so I called them and they told me the service didn't start until 6:30. This annoyed me because if I'd known that from the beginning, I just would've caught a cab, but now it didn't make sense to. I asked if the person would be there right at 6:30 and they said he would. Surprisingly he actually was and I found him right away and he took me right back to the hostel, so it was okay. I couldn't check into my room, naturally, but they said I'd be able to at 12. After the first Beijing hostel debacle, I didn't trust them, so I asked them if they were sure I'd be able to actually go in then and if it would be cleaned and everything and they said yes. They also gave me a coupon for a free coffee in their Cafe and a coupon for a free beer at their bar for each of the two nights I planned to stay. And they had four very young adorable white kittens to pet. They must've been more than two weeks old because their eyes were open, but they couldn't really walk properly yet.
At the Cafe, I got a Jasmine tea instead of Coffee and had a decently sized Western breakfast, screwed around online, played with the kittens, Skyped my Mom and Grandmother and tried unsuccessfully to sort out/ plan my train ticket to Mongolia (which took quite a while, though everyone was very helpful- it was just a difficult thing to do and explain). I also saw Terry again, which was lucky since he was leaving that day so he gave me his email so I'll message him and maybe we'll meet up again in SE Asia. At 12 I went up to my room and was thrilled to find that my keycard worked and my room was clean and ready for me. I took a long nap (about two hours) and felt much better upon waking.
I decided I'd just wander around Xi'an to try to find some food and get a feel for the city. The food was forgettable, as seems to be the law in China, but I found my way to the Bell Tower in the middle of the city. The tower itself wasn't that exciting, but I arrived in one of their several daily concerts and the music was really lovely. With my student ID card (the one thing B.U. really did right was to not put an expiration date on our cards), I paid just over half the price of a regular ticket for entry into the Bell Tower and the Drum Tower, so I walked over there next. The performance wasn't for another hour or two and I didn't want to wait so I put my two years of fifth and sixth grade drumming experience to work and pounded on the giant ones outside (except for the one or two that randomly had a sign saying not to) quite happily. There was an odd little type of museum of furniture and some cute guy stared at me, but he was too young, sadly.
At night I went to the Big Goose pagoda to watch the water and lights show, which was superb- the best one I ever remember seeing. It also lasted for about thirty minutes, which impressed me, though I will admit that after a while it got a little boring. Even though it was a Tuesday night, the place was packed with viewers and since I wanted to be able to see well, I got closer and got a little wet. The thought occurred to me that it would be really romantic and a nice thing to share with someone.
Since I'd booked this hostel ahead of time, I'd also arranged for a free pickup from the train station. My train got in at 5:22 a.m. and they'd told me previously that the service didn't start until 6 a.m. so I said I'd just wait. At about 6:10 there was still no sign of anyone so I called them and they told me the service didn't start until 6:30. This annoyed me because if I'd known that from the beginning, I just would've caught a cab, but now it didn't make sense to. I asked if the person would be there right at 6:30 and they said he would. Surprisingly he actually was and I found him right away and he took me right back to the hostel, so it was okay. I couldn't check into my room, naturally, but they said I'd be able to at 12. After the first Beijing hostel debacle, I didn't trust them, so I asked them if they were sure I'd be able to actually go in then and if it would be cleaned and everything and they said yes. They also gave me a coupon for a free coffee in their Cafe and a coupon for a free beer at their bar for each of the two nights I planned to stay. And they had four very young adorable white kittens to pet. They must've been more than two weeks old because their eyes were open, but they couldn't really walk properly yet.
At the Cafe, I got a Jasmine tea instead of Coffee and had a decently sized Western breakfast, screwed around online, played with the kittens, Skyped my Mom and Grandmother and tried unsuccessfully to sort out/ plan my train ticket to Mongolia (which took quite a while, though everyone was very helpful- it was just a difficult thing to do and explain). I also saw Terry again, which was lucky since he was leaving that day so he gave me his email so I'll message him and maybe we'll meet up again in SE Asia. At 12 I went up to my room and was thrilled to find that my keycard worked and my room was clean and ready for me. I took a long nap (about two hours) and felt much better upon waking.
I decided I'd just wander around Xi'an to try to find some food and get a feel for the city. The food was forgettable, as seems to be the law in China, but I found my way to the Bell Tower in the middle of the city. The tower itself wasn't that exciting, but I arrived in one of their several daily concerts and the music was really lovely. With my student ID card (the one thing B.U. really did right was to not put an expiration date on our cards), I paid just over half the price of a regular ticket for entry into the Bell Tower and the Drum Tower, so I walked over there next. The performance wasn't for another hour or two and I didn't want to wait so I put my two years of fifth and sixth grade drumming experience to work and pounded on the giant ones outside (except for the one or two that randomly had a sign saying not to) quite happily. There was an odd little type of museum of furniture and some cute guy stared at me, but he was too young, sadly.
At night I went to the Big Goose pagoda to watch the water and lights show, which was superb- the best one I ever remember seeing. It also lasted for about thirty minutes, which impressed me, though I will admit that after a while it got a little boring. Even though it was a Tuesday night, the place was packed with viewers and since I wanted to be able to see well, I got closer and got a little wet. The thought occurred to me that it would be really romantic and a nice thing to share with someone.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Why You Shouldn't Take Photos of Movie Stars
6/19
Oh right. Today. Well, today was the day before Father's Day so I decided to pretty much stay in bed all day and then drink myself to death as much as possible. No more comments.
6/20
So today was my day to go to the Forbidden City. I had to do my laundry, seriously, so I gave that to the people at the hostel and had to walk around in my dress all day. It's not actually that short- it goes almost to my knees- but since I didn't wear shorts for ten years (13-23) I still feel uncomfortable in anything shorter than capris. Anyway, it was a bit disappointing in general. I enjoyed walking under the famous portrait of Mao, and I could say the place was impressive in scale, but it seemed to lack character or much beauty.
Due to this fact, I didn't spend as much time there as expected, though I had to take some extra time to pose with random Chinese tourists who seem to love me. I had this experience a bit while on the Great Wall- because so many of the tourists in China are from within the country and don't see a lot of white people so I'm so strange oddity. This is perfectly fine, but it does start to feel weird. I'd always imagined that if I were a movie star it would be better if people took surreptitious photos of me so I wouldn't have to deal with them, but now, having been in a somewhat similar position, it isn't. Basically, it comes down to the fact that no one will pretty much ever be able to take a picture of you without your knowledge- trust me, I don't care how secret you think you're being, it's obvious, and so it becomes an imposition. Even it you have to respond only by ignoring them, some response is still required so it feels a lot better if they just ask, though of course, you'll agree.
Anyway, afterwards, I headed over to Jianshan park, which was a bit of a climb, but lovely. Some guy hung himself there.
6/21- Left for Xi'an.
Oh right. Today. Well, today was the day before Father's Day so I decided to pretty much stay in bed all day and then drink myself to death as much as possible. No more comments.
6/20
So today was my day to go to the Forbidden City. I had to do my laundry, seriously, so I gave that to the people at the hostel and had to walk around in my dress all day. It's not actually that short- it goes almost to my knees- but since I didn't wear shorts for ten years (13-23) I still feel uncomfortable in anything shorter than capris. Anyway, it was a bit disappointing in general. I enjoyed walking under the famous portrait of Mao, and I could say the place was impressive in scale, but it seemed to lack character or much beauty.
Due to this fact, I didn't spend as much time there as expected, though I had to take some extra time to pose with random Chinese tourists who seem to love me. I had this experience a bit while on the Great Wall- because so many of the tourists in China are from within the country and don't see a lot of white people so I'm so strange oddity. This is perfectly fine, but it does start to feel weird. I'd always imagined that if I were a movie star it would be better if people took surreptitious photos of me so I wouldn't have to deal with them, but now, having been in a somewhat similar position, it isn't. Basically, it comes down to the fact that no one will pretty much ever be able to take a picture of you without your knowledge- trust me, I don't care how secret you think you're being, it's obvious, and so it becomes an imposition. Even it you have to respond only by ignoring them, some response is still required so it feels a lot better if they just ask, though of course, you'll agree.
Anyway, afterwards, I headed over to Jianshan park, which was a bit of a climb, but lovely. Some guy hung himself there.
6/21- Left for Xi'an.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Peking Duck in Peking, Round #1
6/18
I took another rest day today (though without a hangover) and went to the English floor of a large bookstore. I sat there for hours reading "Dead Until Dark," the third or fourth book in the Sookie Stackhouse (True Blood) series. I chose this one because it featured a lot of Eric, who I love. It was good and made me happy, though there were too many silly plot points about random things that didn't matter when it should have been all about Sookie and Eric.
While I was reading, I had two Chinese people separately ask me for help understanding English phrases. Both must've been quite proficient since the phrases weren't logical ones. One was something about a guy who "winds up" doing something, and the guy didn't understand because he only knew winds used as a verb to wind something up (like a music box). The other phrase was even stranger and was something like "there're" so I just told the person it was bizarre and meant there are. Anyway, it was cute that they asked me.
At night, I found a place offering Peking Duck (Peking is the original name for Beijing, and thus, where the dish originated) for a somewhat reasonable price (99 yuan with a Diet Coke, $15 USD) but it wasn't as good as I'd hoped. Really good peking duck is one of the greatest foods in the world, and this was just kind of blah and a bit too oily. Don't worry though, I'll try again.
I took another rest day today (though without a hangover) and went to the English floor of a large bookstore. I sat there for hours reading "Dead Until Dark," the third or fourth book in the Sookie Stackhouse (True Blood) series. I chose this one because it featured a lot of Eric, who I love. It was good and made me happy, though there were too many silly plot points about random things that didn't matter when it should have been all about Sookie and Eric.
While I was reading, I had two Chinese people separately ask me for help understanding English phrases. Both must've been quite proficient since the phrases weren't logical ones. One was something about a guy who "winds up" doing something, and the guy didn't understand because he only knew winds used as a verb to wind something up (like a music box). The other phrase was even stranger and was something like "there're" so I just told the person it was bizarre and meant there are. Anyway, it was cute that they asked me.
At night, I found a place offering Peking Duck (Peking is the original name for Beijing, and thus, where the dish originated) for a somewhat reasonable price (99 yuan with a Diet Coke, $15 USD) but it wasn't as good as I'd hoped. Really good peking duck is one of the greatest foods in the world, and this was just kind of blah and a bit too oily. Don't worry though, I'll try again.
Jammin' Out with my Clam Out on a Bumpin' Dance Floor
6/17
Slept in until about two and then nursed a hangover that left me feeling tired and weak. I walked around
the city for quite a while, walking through a hutong with a small, but interesting market. There were so many things I wanted to buy for other people but didn't for the moment. I think I'm going to send another package full of souvenirs home after returning to Beijing from Mongolia.
I walked over to Tiananmen Square, which was huge, but somehow not quite big enough for me. I think I must be at the "impossible to impress" point as it is the largest public square in the world. It was interesting to see the Monument to the People's Heroes and Mao's mausoleum from the outside (as I explained to my Mom, it's only open from 8 a.m.-12 p.m. so it was unlikely I'd ever get inside). My pictures have been boring me a bit as of late, so I decided I should try to focus more on the subject and actually finding meaning in the photo, so I snapped a few of the People statues next to the often-present CCTV security cameras and guards. I headed home through this pretty little park I'd walked through before and got dumplings for dinner.
On my way to Tiananmen Square, I'd met Alex on the street and he reminded me of our plans to go to a club that night. I'm not a big clubber, but it had been a while since I felt like I'd properly, really danced, and THE DANCE FLOOR MOVED. If you've read more than one or two of my entries, you probably know by now that I'm a bit obsessed with obscure/oversized/bizarre/new things and this was no exception. I'd never heard of such a thing and there was no way I was going to miss it, so even though my liver was screaming at me not to, I agreed to meet him at their hostel bar at 11.
I didn't get back until after 7 p.m. so by the time I'd eaten, run a few errands, taken a shower, dressed and messed around online for a while, it was time to go. We had two beers at their hostel and then Alex, Eva and I headed to this club in a taxi (it came out to 15 RMB total, 5 (under $1 USD) each). Terry had left for somewhere on some train already today, but had been kind enough to leave us an extra beer he had, which we split on the way there. Eva and I were practically threatening Alex with bodily harm if the club wasn't as good as promised, but fortunately for him, it was. The moving dance floor was strange- it felt like you were dancing on a speaker as it moved in tune with the music, but by itself, not just as vibrations from the overplayed techno.
So we all drank and had fun. A singer at one point came on a hydrolic stage that lifted out of the dance floor, but I didn't think she was very good, though I was impressed by the dancers who came later. The club was called Banana, which, the three of us agreed, sounded very gay, and might have been. Two Chinese girls came up to me and started hitting on me pretty hard so I danced with them for a while. The bar was decent too (which was only fair after a 30 yuan cover charge for women) and I got an excellent mojito. They had a stripper pole, which I decided to try for the first time ever. It was fun and I think I did quite well, and I felt like finally, all of my third grade dreams and ambitions were coming true.*
We were just getting ready to leave when a group of Chinese guys invited the three of us to join them. They had more of that horrible jaeger-red bull (maybe) mix, but it was free so we stayed for a while. Actually, the guys were quite nice, but it was difficult to talk to them since none of us spoke Mandarin and none of them spoke English very well. Eva and I stayed for a while before getting a cab back, but Alex stayed with them until God knows when. It was only 3:30 a.m. when we got back, which I was very happy with, since I'd thought it was much later, though I still crashed into bed loudly.
*Explanation: In third grade, during a normal show and tell type session, we were supposed to say what we wanted to be when we grew up. I was disturbingly desperate for attention at that age, and so even though I didn't know exactly what it was or entailed, I, with my dresses and Shirley Temple permed hair, told my entire class that I wanted to be a stripper, just for the shock value of it.
Slept in until about two and then nursed a hangover that left me feeling tired and weak. I walked around
the city for quite a while, walking through a hutong with a small, but interesting market. There were so many things I wanted to buy for other people but didn't for the moment. I think I'm going to send another package full of souvenirs home after returning to Beijing from Mongolia.
I walked over to Tiananmen Square, which was huge, but somehow not quite big enough for me. I think I must be at the "impossible to impress" point as it is the largest public square in the world. It was interesting to see the Monument to the People's Heroes and Mao's mausoleum from the outside (as I explained to my Mom, it's only open from 8 a.m.-12 p.m. so it was unlikely I'd ever get inside). My pictures have been boring me a bit as of late, so I decided I should try to focus more on the subject and actually finding meaning in the photo, so I snapped a few of the People statues next to the often-present CCTV security cameras and guards. I headed home through this pretty little park I'd walked through before and got dumplings for dinner.
On my way to Tiananmen Square, I'd met Alex on the street and he reminded me of our plans to go to a club that night. I'm not a big clubber, but it had been a while since I felt like I'd properly, really danced, and THE DANCE FLOOR MOVED. If you've read more than one or two of my entries, you probably know by now that I'm a bit obsessed with obscure/oversized/bizarre/new things and this was no exception. I'd never heard of such a thing and there was no way I was going to miss it, so even though my liver was screaming at me not to, I agreed to meet him at their hostel bar at 11.
I didn't get back until after 7 p.m. so by the time I'd eaten, run a few errands, taken a shower, dressed and messed around online for a while, it was time to go. We had two beers at their hostel and then Alex, Eva and I headed to this club in a taxi (it came out to 15 RMB total, 5 (under $1 USD) each). Terry had left for somewhere on some train already today, but had been kind enough to leave us an extra beer he had, which we split on the way there. Eva and I were practically threatening Alex with bodily harm if the club wasn't as good as promised, but fortunately for him, it was. The moving dance floor was strange- it felt like you were dancing on a speaker as it moved in tune with the music, but by itself, not just as vibrations from the overplayed techno.
So we all drank and had fun. A singer at one point came on a hydrolic stage that lifted out of the dance floor, but I didn't think she was very good, though I was impressed by the dancers who came later. The club was called Banana, which, the three of us agreed, sounded very gay, and might have been. Two Chinese girls came up to me and started hitting on me pretty hard so I danced with them for a while. The bar was decent too (which was only fair after a 30 yuan cover charge for women) and I got an excellent mojito. They had a stripper pole, which I decided to try for the first time ever. It was fun and I think I did quite well, and I felt like finally, all of my third grade dreams and ambitions were coming true.*
We were just getting ready to leave when a group of Chinese guys invited the three of us to join them. They had more of that horrible jaeger-red bull (maybe) mix, but it was free so we stayed for a while. Actually, the guys were quite nice, but it was difficult to talk to them since none of us spoke Mandarin and none of them spoke English very well. Eva and I stayed for a while before getting a cab back, but Alex stayed with them until God knows when. It was only 3:30 a.m. when we got back, which I was very happy with, since I'd thought it was much later, though I still crashed into bed loudly.
*Explanation: In third grade, during a normal show and tell type session, we were supposed to say what we wanted to be when we grew up. I was disturbingly desperate for attention at that age, and so even though I didn't know exactly what it was or entailed, I, with my dresses and Shirley Temple permed hair, told my entire class that I wanted to be a stripper, just for the shock value of it.
Changing Directions
6/16
I was sitting in the front Cafe at my hostel, screwing around online when Terry, an English guy I'd met in Shanghai, came by- he was staying at a hostel right around the corner. It was just about dinnertime so I asked if he'd already eaten, he said no and we headed out. And immediately stopped.
Me: So, do you know anywhere good to eat around here?
Him: Ummm, not really.
Me: Well, I know of a couple of places, but I haven't had anything really extraordinary so far.
Him: We could always eat at my hostel, they have Chinese food and Western food.
Me: Hmm, I don't know.
After much more hemming and hawing, we did go to his hostel and it was actually, surprisingly good. Not great or particularly intersting so I won't tell you about it here, but a decent "chicken cubes with peanuts" meal. Their draft beer was 10 yuan (about $1.50 USD) for a very large glass so I had one, though I was planning on going to another Ladies Night with free drinks from 8-12 so I didn't want to have too much. Terry, who I roped into going to a Ladies Night in Shanghai that was quite expensive, was understandably unexcited by this plan and delayed me by suggesting another pint.
Eva, a Dutch girl who had been on the same Great Wall tour Terry had taken that day, came in and joined us and I managed to convince her to go with me to Vic's Ladies Night. We decided to go after a game of chess. I played Terry and lost quite pathetically (it's probably been at least five years since I last played, to be fair) and then Eva played him and lost, so I didn't feel as bad.
Alex, a German-Russian guy who'd also gone on the tour with them, came in and we all got another beer and started to play Kings. Eva was amazing at Never Have I Ever, which impressed me greatly. We all got another beer. I was very happy to be around people who truly appreciated the game. Since we were all drinking beer, we hadn't had a center cup and had substituted something else for the King card but they inisted we use something, and long island iced teas were "only" 50 kwai. We called a bartender over but she didn't know how to make one, even though it was on the menu. I volunteered to help and since I couldn't remember exactly, precisely how to make a LIIT, I just took a pint glass, threw in a lot of vodka, rum, gin?, cointreau and Coke and called it one. It wasn't god-awful but it wasn't a LIIT and it wasn't very good, but it was insanely strong and dangerous. We finished (abandoned?) the game and Terry and I split the odd concoction. I think that was what got me drunk and finished me. We went outside so Alex and Eva could smoke and I acted like a loud idiot.
Alex and Eva convinced me to go to Mongolia. Eva told me that it was her favorite place she'd ever been (and she'd traveled quite a lot, especially considering that she was only 21,) and Alex told me he was going there next.
There are other factors, including a girl I know (not a friend exactly, but a friendly acquaintance who I'd like to see again) who lives there and is Mongolian. The fact that Americans don't need a visa (for once- and maybe only once- it'll work to my advantage) while everyone else does. Eva also told me that she thought it would become very touristy in a few years and I had to go now. And that when I was doing minor research for this trip, I'd looked up Mongolia with the hopes of convincing myself to skip it since it is quite out of the way, but had just been more entranced. And it sounds cool, and I'm afraid that if I don't go now, I never will, and there's a Mongolian girl in my room, Dirn?, who's quite nice.
She told me a bit about Genghis Khan and how many people live in yurts (circular, tent-y houses) and always sleep with their head towards the alter inside each one (because to sleep with your feet towards it would show anger against Buddha) and their food (LOTS of meat, apparently) and their holidays. They have Womans Day (instead of Mothers Day, which I thought was pretty awesome in of itself) on March 8th, which is a public holiday, with everything closing and everyone getting the day off work, and Mans Day on March 18th, which is not a public holiday. I told her that I thought this was really smart because that way if the men didn't do a good enough job for Womans Day, they wouldn't get much for Mans Day, which made her laugh.
Rather sadly, she told me also that there is a huge wealth divide in Mongolia and people are either very poor or very rich with few in the middle class. She said that the people were discouraged with their country and that there were many single mothers whose husbands had left them to go off for work but drank all their money away. But, she also said that Mongolians were very hospitable and that it was a beautiful country. All three million Mongolians are supposed to be descended from Genghis Khan and his family (presumably because the population was so relatively small at the time) and thus have the heart and cleverness of his wife and mother, which were apparently great. So, if she were feeling bad about herself, for example, her mother might remind her of that, which I thought was really nice.
One of the last things she told me was that Mongolians (and she thought this was due to their historical interactions) have a fear of the Chinese people and think they're cruel, but that after being in Beijing (she's here to get a Canadian visa as there are no Canadian embassies in Mongolia!), she thought they had very good hearts. I thought this was particularly interesting given the Chinese girl's stereotype of the Japanese and because she told me most of this on the day I'd been to the Great Wall of China.
Lastly, regarding Mongolia planning, I'd already booked my ticket for Xi'an (where the terracotta warriors are) for Monday, and most trains to Ulaanbator leave from Beijing, so I'm planning on getting a train to Hohhot, then joining up with the Trans-Mongolian from there.
I was sitting in the front Cafe at my hostel, screwing around online when Terry, an English guy I'd met in Shanghai, came by- he was staying at a hostel right around the corner. It was just about dinnertime so I asked if he'd already eaten, he said no and we headed out. And immediately stopped.
Me: So, do you know anywhere good to eat around here?
Him: Ummm, not really.
Me: Well, I know of a couple of places, but I haven't had anything really extraordinary so far.
Him: We could always eat at my hostel, they have Chinese food and Western food.
Me: Hmm, I don't know.
After much more hemming and hawing, we did go to his hostel and it was actually, surprisingly good. Not great or particularly intersting so I won't tell you about it here, but a decent "chicken cubes with peanuts" meal. Their draft beer was 10 yuan (about $1.50 USD) for a very large glass so I had one, though I was planning on going to another Ladies Night with free drinks from 8-12 so I didn't want to have too much. Terry, who I roped into going to a Ladies Night in Shanghai that was quite expensive, was understandably unexcited by this plan and delayed me by suggesting another pint.
Eva, a Dutch girl who had been on the same Great Wall tour Terry had taken that day, came in and joined us and I managed to convince her to go with me to Vic's Ladies Night. We decided to go after a game of chess. I played Terry and lost quite pathetically (it's probably been at least five years since I last played, to be fair) and then Eva played him and lost, so I didn't feel as bad.
Alex, a German-Russian guy who'd also gone on the tour with them, came in and we all got another beer and started to play Kings. Eva was amazing at Never Have I Ever, which impressed me greatly. We all got another beer. I was very happy to be around people who truly appreciated the game. Since we were all drinking beer, we hadn't had a center cup and had substituted something else for the King card but they inisted we use something, and long island iced teas were "only" 50 kwai. We called a bartender over but she didn't know how to make one, even though it was on the menu. I volunteered to help and since I couldn't remember exactly, precisely how to make a LIIT, I just took a pint glass, threw in a lot of vodka, rum, gin?, cointreau and Coke and called it one. It wasn't god-awful but it wasn't a LIIT and it wasn't very good, but it was insanely strong and dangerous. We finished (abandoned?) the game and Terry and I split the odd concoction. I think that was what got me drunk and finished me. We went outside so Alex and Eva could smoke and I acted like a loud idiot.
Alex and Eva convinced me to go to Mongolia. Eva told me that it was her favorite place she'd ever been (and she'd traveled quite a lot, especially considering that she was only 21,) and Alex told me he was going there next.
There are other factors, including a girl I know (not a friend exactly, but a friendly acquaintance who I'd like to see again) who lives there and is Mongolian. The fact that Americans don't need a visa (for once- and maybe only once- it'll work to my advantage) while everyone else does. Eva also told me that she thought it would become very touristy in a few years and I had to go now. And that when I was doing minor research for this trip, I'd looked up Mongolia with the hopes of convincing myself to skip it since it is quite out of the way, but had just been more entranced. And it sounds cool, and I'm afraid that if I don't go now, I never will, and there's a Mongolian girl in my room, Dirn?, who's quite nice.
She told me a bit about Genghis Khan and how many people live in yurts (circular, tent-y houses) and always sleep with their head towards the alter inside each one (because to sleep with your feet towards it would show anger against Buddha) and their food (LOTS of meat, apparently) and their holidays. They have Womans Day (instead of Mothers Day, which I thought was pretty awesome in of itself) on March 8th, which is a public holiday, with everything closing and everyone getting the day off work, and Mans Day on March 18th, which is not a public holiday. I told her that I thought this was really smart because that way if the men didn't do a good enough job for Womans Day, they wouldn't get much for Mans Day, which made her laugh.
Rather sadly, she told me also that there is a huge wealth divide in Mongolia and people are either very poor or very rich with few in the middle class. She said that the people were discouraged with their country and that there were many single mothers whose husbands had left them to go off for work but drank all their money away. But, she also said that Mongolians were very hospitable and that it was a beautiful country. All three million Mongolians are supposed to be descended from Genghis Khan and his family (presumably because the population was so relatively small at the time) and thus have the heart and cleverness of his wife and mother, which were apparently great. So, if she were feeling bad about herself, for example, her mother might remind her of that, which I thought was really nice.
One of the last things she told me was that Mongolians (and she thought this was due to their historical interactions) have a fear of the Chinese people and think they're cruel, but that after being in Beijing (she's here to get a Canadian visa as there are no Canadian embassies in Mongolia!), she thought they had very good hearts. I thought this was particularly interesting given the Chinese girl's stereotype of the Japanese and because she told me most of this on the day I'd been to the Great Wall of China.
Lastly, regarding Mongolia planning, I'd already booked my ticket for Xi'an (where the terracotta warriors are) for Monday, and most trains to Ulaanbator leave from Beijing, so I'm planning on getting a train to Hohhot, then joining up with the Trans-Mongolian from there.
Bitter Chinese Medicine
6/14
Beijing! I slept somewhat okay, probably would've been fine overall if I'd just gone to bed earlier. I went to my hostel and they said I couldn't check in until 2 so I spent a long time in their common room. For whatever reason, or maybe because I kept asking them, I'd thought they'd let me into the room earlier, since check-out was at 12. They didn't. At 2, I tried my key and it didn't work so I checked with the front desk. The man said it wasn't ready- it still hadn't been cleaned. I had to literally force him to get housecleaners to do it, and then while I tried to nap, they took three hours (not exaggerating here- I seriously checked the time on my phone) to clean the room. Admittedly, it had been quite messy, but not that bad- they were just being really slow and lazy. I was not happy and ended up just getting some random street food for dinner and spending a lot of time reading that night.
I really do have to find less depressing books. Here's the body count from the one I just finished (of main or important characters): 1 dead wife, 2 dead husbands, two dead sons and one dead daughter. And that's just from the main characters, not including all the tons of peripheral deaths.
6/15
Besides my general annoyance with it, that hostel was way overpriced, so today I moved to a new one; Forbidden City Youth Hostel, for almost half the price, though in a room without windows (though it does have an ensuite bathroom, hmm).
I also decided to go to a doctor for my headaches/presumed sinusitus. I looked online and in my guidebook and apparently the best place to go was a hospital. Beijing hospital was near me, so I went there (though I had a hell of a time finding it, same with a CCB Bank- Bank of America's (WORST BANK EVER) partner).
For about $15 USD, I received consultations with a general doctor and a neurologist, basic physical neurological testing, blood testing, Tylenol (supposedly special but it didn't have much effect on me), and twelve doses of Chinese medicine, which came in the form of 10 mL bottles that I had to use straws for and tasted horrible, like bitter death and mushrooms mixed together by the trio of Macbeth witches. I drank them as quickly as I could and chased them with soda.
Gross as they were, the combination of those and lots of sleep and rest seemed to put my body mostly back to normal so I felt I'd made the right decision. Otherwise, those headaches could've incapacitated me like they did in Cambodia and Korea and I would've lost valuable time.
That evening, feeling a bit better, I visited the Doghuamen night market, which is completely set up for tourists, but still kind of interesting. Nothing I tasted was particularly interesting and while I considered tasting the starfish (mostly because who knew you could even eat starfish?), I ended up just munching on some pretty normal food. I've gotten to the point that I'll no longer try something to eat just for the novelty of it, but only if I think there's a chance I'll actually enjoy it. Life is too short to eat crap.
Beijing! I slept somewhat okay, probably would've been fine overall if I'd just gone to bed earlier. I went to my hostel and they said I couldn't check in until 2 so I spent a long time in their common room. For whatever reason, or maybe because I kept asking them, I'd thought they'd let me into the room earlier, since check-out was at 12. They didn't. At 2, I tried my key and it didn't work so I checked with the front desk. The man said it wasn't ready- it still hadn't been cleaned. I had to literally force him to get housecleaners to do it, and then while I tried to nap, they took three hours (not exaggerating here- I seriously checked the time on my phone) to clean the room. Admittedly, it had been quite messy, but not that bad- they were just being really slow and lazy. I was not happy and ended up just getting some random street food for dinner and spending a lot of time reading that night.
I really do have to find less depressing books. Here's the body count from the one I just finished (of main or important characters): 1 dead wife, 2 dead husbands, two dead sons and one dead daughter. And that's just from the main characters, not including all the tons of peripheral deaths.
6/15
Besides my general annoyance with it, that hostel was way overpriced, so today I moved to a new one; Forbidden City Youth Hostel, for almost half the price, though in a room without windows (though it does have an ensuite bathroom, hmm).
I also decided to go to a doctor for my headaches/presumed sinusitus. I looked online and in my guidebook and apparently the best place to go was a hospital. Beijing hospital was near me, so I went there (though I had a hell of a time finding it, same with a CCB Bank- Bank of America's (WORST BANK EVER) partner).
For about $15 USD, I received consultations with a general doctor and a neurologist, basic physical neurological testing, blood testing, Tylenol (supposedly special but it didn't have much effect on me), and twelve doses of Chinese medicine, which came in the form of 10 mL bottles that I had to use straws for and tasted horrible, like bitter death and mushrooms mixed together by the trio of Macbeth witches. I drank them as quickly as I could and chased them with soda.
Gross as they were, the combination of those and lots of sleep and rest seemed to put my body mostly back to normal so I felt I'd made the right decision. Otherwise, those headaches could've incapacitated me like they did in Cambodia and Korea and I would've lost valuable time.
That evening, feeling a bit better, I visited the Doghuamen night market, which is completely set up for tourists, but still kind of interesting. Nothing I tasted was particularly interesting and while I considered tasting the starfish (mostly because who knew you could even eat starfish?), I ended up just munching on some pretty normal food. I've gotten to the point that I'll no longer try something to eat just for the novelty of it, but only if I think there's a chance I'll actually enjoy it. Life is too short to eat crap.
China Can't Keep It Up
6/12
I had a frustrating day; terrible weather and a museum I really wanted to see (the Chinese Sex Culture Exhibition- the only museum of its type in the country) had apparently been moved to a town 45 minutes away by train, in 2004. This pissed me off because I'd checked the Rough Guide from 2008, which still had it listed in Shanghai AND I'd checked the Lonely Planet from 2009, which also still had it listed in Shanghai. So basically, I spent today eating dumplings, wandering through the Pudong area (all corporate area and skyscrapers that aren't as cool up close,) trying to get to a museum and drinking beer. I did get some of these yummy chili-crayfish things for dinner with several Tsingtaos and I spent the rest of the night writing, drinking even more (hard not to when beer's about the same price as bottled water) and stupidly waiting up for the 2:30 a.m. (Shanghai time) World Cup match of England vs. the U.S. Secretly, I'm hoping the U.S. loses because then I won't feel any strange guilt for not watching the rest of the games.
6/13
I decided not to rush myself today so all I did was get up, check out, buy dumplings and got on my overnight train to Beijing.
I had a frustrating day; terrible weather and a museum I really wanted to see (the Chinese Sex Culture Exhibition- the only museum of its type in the country) had apparently been moved to a town 45 minutes away by train, in 2004. This pissed me off because I'd checked the Rough Guide from 2008, which still had it listed in Shanghai AND I'd checked the Lonely Planet from 2009, which also still had it listed in Shanghai. So basically, I spent today eating dumplings, wandering through the Pudong area (all corporate area and skyscrapers that aren't as cool up close,) trying to get to a museum and drinking beer. I did get some of these yummy chili-crayfish things for dinner with several Tsingtaos and I spent the rest of the night writing, drinking even more (hard not to when beer's about the same price as bottled water) and stupidly waiting up for the 2:30 a.m. (Shanghai time) World Cup match of England vs. the U.S. Secretly, I'm hoping the U.S. loses because then I won't feel any strange guilt for not watching the rest of the games.
6/13
I decided not to rush myself today so all I did was get up, check out, buy dumplings and got on my overnight train to Beijing.
Exposition of the World Exhibition
6/11
To me, the World Exposition is a romantic antique from a bygone era when men wore top hats and laid their jackets in puddles so women wouldn't dirty their petticoats.
I can't resist nostalgia that strong so today, I visited the Expo. I met two people from my hostel who let me drag along with them for the day since I hadn't actually planned anything inside the Expo besides walking around. They wanted to go to the city pavilions, which were interesting. The best of these was London's, though Madrid's was also impressive (and had a great flamenco/ fake bull-fight show that was fun, lovely and funny). Montreals was also surprisingly cool due to a video they played on a moving screen. The screen was tilted at about 45* and was made of many (over 100) white blocks that formed a flat surface when all at the same level. During the movie (about a garbage dump transformed into a park) the blocks rose or retracted differently in accordance to each part of the picture on screen, making the movie 3-D. It was interesting, and something I've never seen before.
Later in the day, we wandered over to the Country Pavilions, which are the real exhibits, but had lines that lasted for hours so we chose carefully. We all went into the Medina exhibit and I got a "passport stamp" on a piece of paper since I'll never actually get to go there. Qatar had a surprisingly good pavilion, and it was really interesting to see North Korea's (which I also got a stamp for). There were several that we visited, mostly any without a line at the entrance, but few were particularly interesting inside.
One of the people I was with wanted to see the talk that was supposed to be given by President Ahmadinejad of Iran. It would've been interesting, but we discovered it was canceled. I imagine this was somehow related to the fact that this morning the U.N. imposed nuclear sanctions against Iran.
Oh well. We went over to the Danish pavilion, and it was the only one (of all the ones we saw) that was as interesting inside as outside. This was due to the Little Mermaid, taken on her rock from her corn-blue waters to rest for a while in a small tank inside a white swirl of a building, like Shamu at SeaWorld. The Danish are apparently quite pissed about having their national treasure borrowed (with the water actually taken from Copenhagen's harbor). Anyway, it was really cool to see because, even though I'd seen her before, The Little Mermaid is one of my favorite stories, and it is a beautiful statue.
All of the other pavilions either sucked overall (like ours- it's obvious this is where they're really cutting the budget) or had great architecture and were really interesting from the outside but not very interesting inside (like Australia's, for example). For whatever reasons, there just weren't many interactive exhibits and it was really disappointing. I felt like I could've done a much better job on any of the interiors with just a few thousand.
That all said, just looking at the architecture was really interesting and most of the buildings were really incredible- it sucks that the large majority of them will be removed (torn down?) after the Expo.
I didn't get to go into the China Pavilion because the wait was over three hours at pretty much all times, and someone said that only the Chinese were allowed in (though I don't believe this part). It was lovely from the outside though, a huge interpretation of tradition in a modern way. It was a red inverted step pyramid, that I couldn't get a good picture of since my new camera is still giving me a bit of trouble. The concert (convention, culture?) center they'd built was also really cool- it looked like an Apple designed flying saucer.
Looking back, I would've preferred to spend less time looking at the City Pavilions and more time just wandering around the outsides of the Country Pavilions since they were so interesting. And I really would've liked to see China's.
Overall, the World Expo felt like an adult Disneyland with propaganda; lots of lines, sanitized, aesthetically pleasing, but when honestly assessed, there wasn't that much to do and it was not really that interesting. Still, I'm glad I went- I know now, and it was an interesting experience mostly due to its novelty.
Before leaving the topic, I have to mention the mascot of the Expo which is a blue guy that is supposed to represent the Chinese word for people (人) but it really looks more like a bit of toothpaste turned into a cartoon character like you'd see at a dentists office. I kept expecting to see one with "Make sure to brush and floss daily for healthy, pearly teeth!" written in a word bubble over its head but sadly, I never did.
I finally have a final, unchangeable return date- I'll be back in the U.S. (L.A.) on October 24.
It feels weird, but I can't figure out if it feels weird because it seems strange that I have that little time left, or if it feels weird because I'll be away for that long. I leave New Zealand at 6:30 p.m. on October 24th and get in at 10:15 a.m. on October 24th because I'm just that cool.
To me, the World Exposition is a romantic antique from a bygone era when men wore top hats and laid their jackets in puddles so women wouldn't dirty their petticoats.
I can't resist nostalgia that strong so today, I visited the Expo. I met two people from my hostel who let me drag along with them for the day since I hadn't actually planned anything inside the Expo besides walking around. They wanted to go to the city pavilions, which were interesting. The best of these was London's, though Madrid's was also impressive (and had a great flamenco/ fake bull-fight show that was fun, lovely and funny). Montreals was also surprisingly cool due to a video they played on a moving screen. The screen was tilted at about 45* and was made of many (over 100) white blocks that formed a flat surface when all at the same level. During the movie (about a garbage dump transformed into a park) the blocks rose or retracted differently in accordance to each part of the picture on screen, making the movie 3-D. It was interesting, and something I've never seen before.
Later in the day, we wandered over to the Country Pavilions, which are the real exhibits, but had lines that lasted for hours so we chose carefully. We all went into the Medina exhibit and I got a "passport stamp" on a piece of paper since I'll never actually get to go there. Qatar had a surprisingly good pavilion, and it was really interesting to see North Korea's (which I also got a stamp for). There were several that we visited, mostly any without a line at the entrance, but few were particularly interesting inside.
One of the people I was with wanted to see the talk that was supposed to be given by President Ahmadinejad of Iran. It would've been interesting, but we discovered it was canceled. I imagine this was somehow related to the fact that this morning the U.N. imposed nuclear sanctions against Iran.
Oh well. We went over to the Danish pavilion, and it was the only one (of all the ones we saw) that was as interesting inside as outside. This was due to the Little Mermaid, taken on her rock from her corn-blue waters to rest for a while in a small tank inside a white swirl of a building, like Shamu at SeaWorld. The Danish are apparently quite pissed about having their national treasure borrowed (with the water actually taken from Copenhagen's harbor). Anyway, it was really cool to see because, even though I'd seen her before, The Little Mermaid is one of my favorite stories, and it is a beautiful statue.
All of the other pavilions either sucked overall (like ours- it's obvious this is where they're really cutting the budget) or had great architecture and were really interesting from the outside but not very interesting inside (like Australia's, for example). For whatever reasons, there just weren't many interactive exhibits and it was really disappointing. I felt like I could've done a much better job on any of the interiors with just a few thousand.
That all said, just looking at the architecture was really interesting and most of the buildings were really incredible- it sucks that the large majority of them will be removed (torn down?) after the Expo.
I didn't get to go into the China Pavilion because the wait was over three hours at pretty much all times, and someone said that only the Chinese were allowed in (though I don't believe this part). It was lovely from the outside though, a huge interpretation of tradition in a modern way. It was a red inverted step pyramid, that I couldn't get a good picture of since my new camera is still giving me a bit of trouble. The concert (convention, culture?) center they'd built was also really cool- it looked like an Apple designed flying saucer.
Looking back, I would've preferred to spend less time looking at the City Pavilions and more time just wandering around the outsides of the Country Pavilions since they were so interesting. And I really would've liked to see China's.
Overall, the World Expo felt like an adult Disneyland with propaganda; lots of lines, sanitized, aesthetically pleasing, but when honestly assessed, there wasn't that much to do and it was not really that interesting. Still, I'm glad I went- I know now, and it was an interesting experience mostly due to its novelty.
Before leaving the topic, I have to mention the mascot of the Expo which is a blue guy that is supposed to represent the Chinese word for people (人) but it really looks more like a bit of toothpaste turned into a cartoon character like you'd see at a dentists office. I kept expecting to see one with "Make sure to brush and floss daily for healthy, pearly teeth!" written in a word bubble over its head but sadly, I never did.
I finally have a final, unchangeable return date- I'll be back in the U.S. (L.A.) on October 24.
It feels weird, but I can't figure out if it feels weird because it seems strange that I have that little time left, or if it feels weird because I'll be away for that long. I leave New Zealand at 6:30 p.m. on October 24th and get in at 10:15 a.m. on October 24th because I'm just that cool.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
The Entire Day After
6/10
Hangover day. I could've done more than I did since it wasn't that bad, but I chose not to. I did have some awesome dumplings, the first really good food I've had since I've been in China proper. They were the xiao long bao variety (a Shanghai specialty which basically just means they have broth inside) and contained what I believe was a pork blend. The dumplings were made in a glass production area inside the seating area by spreading the meat mixture on the dumpling dough, tying them up, boiling them, then essentially grilling them which causes the meat mixture to release oils and broth inside the dumpling, then sprinkling them with sesame seeds and spring onions. Delicious, though so hot I always had to let them cool for an irritatingly long time- irritating because I wanted to eat them right away. 5 yuan (under $1) for four.
Hangover day. I could've done more than I did since it wasn't that bad, but I chose not to. I did have some awesome dumplings, the first really good food I've had since I've been in China proper. They were the xiao long bao variety (a Shanghai specialty which basically just means they have broth inside) and contained what I believe was a pork blend. The dumplings were made in a glass production area inside the seating area by spreading the meat mixture on the dumpling dough, tying them up, boiling them, then essentially grilling them which causes the meat mixture to release oils and broth inside the dumpling, then sprinkling them with sesame seeds and spring onions. Delicious, though so hot I always had to let them cool for an irritatingly long time- irritating because I wanted to eat them right away. 5 yuan (under $1) for four.
Tai Bai Bo. Tai Bai Bo. Tai Bai BO!
6/9
Today it was just dumping rain so I went to the Shanghai Museum, which was supposed to be fantastic, but I found it a bit boring. I was particularly disappointed in their Calligraphy exhibition, though their Minorities exhibit (showing traditional costumes of the many minority groups in China) was impressive.
I convinced Terry, an English guy I met at my hostel, to go with me to Zapata's because even though it was a seriously cheesy, trashy ex-pat bar, they had free margaritas on Wednesday Ladies Night. The margaritas tasted okay but had almost no alcohol in them whatsoever and all the other drinks were wildly overpriced, so we left shortly. We were walking back through the French Concession area (which was never French but previously very British and is still a big ex-pat enclave) and looking for a bar Terry thought he'd been to last night (he'd been too drunk to remember properly) when I saw it so we went over. 60RMB ($9 USD) got you an all you can drink bracelet but we were both unsure if we should go in because we realized we'd end up drunk and have to get a taxi back since the Metro stopped running at 11:30/12.
We caved. It was a really cool bar called CD Soho. He'd explained it previously and it had sounded, well, pretty much like any other pretentious bar, but it was awesome in reality. It was like walking through a futuristic ipod commercial with curving plastic white walls. The bathroom stalls circled a giant hollow ball made of hundreds of 2" diameter mirrors; the inside served as a vanity room, naturally. Plus it was just fun. The music was surprisingly good, and even though it was in an ex-pat area, it was obviously a local bar and except for maybe ten other foreigners, the bar was filled with a couple hundred Chinese.
Eventually we started hanging out with a group of Chinese, who decided that we needed more alcohol in our system (I managed to not get too drunk, but Terry lost count after 20 beers, yes 20) and starting making us drink premixed jaeger bombs and eat random food. With them, we played a game called Tai Bai Bo! where you each have a yahtzee cup of dice and try to guess the total count. It was easy enough to play once you knew the Chinese way to count on your fingers (different than ours). We both were fairly trashed, but because I'd paced myself by making myself drink one glass of Sprite in between the drinks, I got us a cab and we both got back to the hostel safely.
Today it was just dumping rain so I went to the Shanghai Museum, which was supposed to be fantastic, but I found it a bit boring. I was particularly disappointed in their Calligraphy exhibition, though their Minorities exhibit (showing traditional costumes of the many minority groups in China) was impressive.
I convinced Terry, an English guy I met at my hostel, to go with me to Zapata's because even though it was a seriously cheesy, trashy ex-pat bar, they had free margaritas on Wednesday Ladies Night. The margaritas tasted okay but had almost no alcohol in them whatsoever and all the other drinks were wildly overpriced, so we left shortly. We were walking back through the French Concession area (which was never French but previously very British and is still a big ex-pat enclave) and looking for a bar Terry thought he'd been to last night (he'd been too drunk to remember properly) when I saw it so we went over. 60RMB ($9 USD) got you an all you can drink bracelet but we were both unsure if we should go in because we realized we'd end up drunk and have to get a taxi back since the Metro stopped running at 11:30/12.
We caved. It was a really cool bar called CD Soho. He'd explained it previously and it had sounded, well, pretty much like any other pretentious bar, but it was awesome in reality. It was like walking through a futuristic ipod commercial with curving plastic white walls. The bathroom stalls circled a giant hollow ball made of hundreds of 2" diameter mirrors; the inside served as a vanity room, naturally. Plus it was just fun. The music was surprisingly good, and even though it was in an ex-pat area, it was obviously a local bar and except for maybe ten other foreigners, the bar was filled with a couple hundred Chinese.
Eventually we started hanging out with a group of Chinese, who decided that we needed more alcohol in our system (I managed to not get too drunk, but Terry lost count after 20 beers, yes 20) and starting making us drink premixed jaeger bombs and eat random food. With them, we played a game called Tai Bai Bo! where you each have a yahtzee cup of dice and try to guess the total count. It was easy enough to play once you knew the Chinese way to count on your fingers (different than ours). We both were fairly trashed, but because I'd paced myself by making myself drink one glass of Sprite in between the drinks, I got us a cab and we both got back to the hostel safely.
Swinging Shanghai
6/6 - 6/8
Didn't do a whole lot for these days. Rested, read, chilled out. I also spent a fair amount of time walking along the Bund, a historical art deco waterfront area. Along the river, I saw my first Mao sculpture, which was pretty cool. The art deco architecture was awesome and it was particularly interesting to see what, to my eyes at least, was the truly Chinese art deco style.
I also walked all around Nanjing Road, a huge shopping area (with a Sephora, which is always a treat for me) that was quite lovely and over to People's Square, which was a really nice park with several museums in it.
I got a haircut (which included a lovely head, arm and shoulder massage) for about $15 USD including tips, in a really nice salon, and when I left, I was very happy with it. Within about fifteen minutes however, I realized that it was too short, the guy had screwed up my bangs and it made my face look fat. It was a good haircut and the guy was very good, but it just didn't work for me so pictures of me will likely be limited until it grows a bit.
Didn't do a whole lot for these days. Rested, read, chilled out. I also spent a fair amount of time walking along the Bund, a historical art deco waterfront area. Along the river, I saw my first Mao sculpture, which was pretty cool. The art deco architecture was awesome and it was particularly interesting to see what, to my eyes at least, was the truly Chinese art deco style.
I also walked all around Nanjing Road, a huge shopping area (with a Sephora, which is always a treat for me) that was quite lovely and over to People's Square, which was a really nice park with several museums in it.
I got a haircut (which included a lovely head, arm and shoulder massage) for about $15 USD including tips, in a really nice salon, and when I left, I was very happy with it. Within about fifteen minutes however, I realized that it was too short, the guy had screwed up my bangs and it made my face look fat. It was a good haircut and the guy was very good, but it just didn't work for me so pictures of me will likely be limited until it grows a bit.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
In and Out on a Slow Train from Guangzhou
6/2
I checked out of the hostel today, while Yves moved into a dorm room once again. We went to lunch at Coyote again (I know it seems ridiculous that I had nachos there three times in just over a week, but who knows when I'll get decent nachos again?) where they remembered my order with all my pain in the ass specifications (no olives, no jalapenos, salsa, sour cream and guacamoles on the side). I helped Yves with his English C.V. and a cover letter for a job he wanted to apply to in Hong Kong (and it was great- he'd better get that job) and he bought me lunch. We were both tired since our schedules were so off we'd accidentally stayed up until 5 a.m., watching Saving Private Ryan and drinking large Tsingtaos that morning. We had a couple of Sol beers and then hugged, wished each other the best and headed our separate ways.
Leaving Hong Kong was sad, but it really was time for me to leave, you know how sometimes you just know?
I don't want to talk about the process of getting to Guangzhou because it was longer and more expensive than it should've been due to my stupidity and exhaustion. On the other hand, once again, the visa guy had a hard time ascertaining my identity because my picture looks so different from me, so that made me happy. Finding somewhere to stay was also very difficult and time consuming, so I just screwed around online for a while before crashing.
6/3
Today was a bit frustrating. I checked out of my hotel, hoping to leave on the 6:11 train for Shanghai but a) one leaving at that time wasn't there and b) the trains for the day were full anyway, so I bought a ticket (the only one available was in a seat, not a bed) for the next day for 12:08 to Shanghai.
I tried to find one of the two hostels in my downloaded guide books Yves had given me for China and Mongolia. Neither one seems to exist anymore and after about three hours of looking I ended up with another hotel in an area very close to the last one for the exact same price.
In between, and for the rest of the day, I walked around a leather area with a market for leather goods, and an area for wholesale leather in large fabric roles. Even the air smelled of leather. I had a very good lunch of cabbage and slightly spicy beef knuckles (I think- beef attached to the bone in chunks) in sauce on a bed of rice in a mini cast iron pot inside a bamboo basket (about $1.50). I rested at the hotel for a while before going out to get dinner, a large bowl of at least ten dumplings that were disappointing, for just under $1. I bought a Pearl River beer, which was okay, a SIM card for my phone and a dragonfruit for tomorrow's breakfast.
6/4
Did you know they have oleanders in China? I'm on the train to Shanghai and currently passing through trees reminiscent of Dr. Suess' Truffula trees from The Lorax, tall trunks without leaves until reaching a big ball of shrubbery right at the top, though sadly, they're not neon in real life. China's rural interior is all this medium-dark green contrasted with dark red-orange dirt that's mirrored by the buildings built from bricks of the same earth. The train has passed through a valley, by green mountains, rock formations, both in vertical red softly sculpted towers and gray groupings, lakes and of course, rice paddies, both flat and in tiers.
However, at this moment, I'm about 6.5 hours into this approximately 18 hour long train ride and regretting this decision and wishing I'd taken a bus instead. Sleeping on a train, even in a seat, didn't seem like such a terrible idea, after all, I'd done it in Japan and it had been okay. But, I'd forgotten to ask for a window seat and now I have an aisle seat. And I hadn't counted on all the seats facing each other in groups of four, meaning that none of them could recline at all. Nor had I realized that there would be no arm rests, only squat toilets, many people standing in the crowded train, a total acceptance of spitting on the floor, and smoking in an area on the end of each car. I'd also been told that an attendant came through about every hour to collect trash and no one has so far at any point. Lastly, from my reading online, I'd been led to believe that hot food was fairly readily available (as it was on the train in Thailand) and so far only one type of meal has been on offer and it looked bland and gross. In short, I'm not thrilled. It's also really loud.
That all said, everyone has been quite nice to me. People do stare a lot, but it's just in a curious sort of way as there really aren't many foreigners around here, and none of it feels rude or lecherous. I'm desperately hoping the couple across from me gets off a.s.a.p. so I can sit over there as I know the guy next to me is going to Shanghai and I don't know how I'll sleep otherwise. One girl, Hualien, and her friend talked to me for quite a while. Her English was quite good, though her accent was very strong. She was very impressed when I told her of my plans and traveling. Her friend had me try this candy that looked like a long, thin round stick of baloney. It was actually dry candy/ appetite suppressant cut into slices about the thickness of Necco wafers that tasted kind of like Sweet Tarts, which are okay, but I'm not hugely fond of. They liked looking at my passport and some photos I had from home and her friend gave me her cell phone charmed once I complimented her on it, which was very sweet. Tellingly, perhaps, Hualien reacted strongly when I said that I'd visited Japan and asked if I was scared there. I said no, that I'd really liked it, which surprised her greatly. She told me she'd heard the Japanese were very cruel. I mention all this because I think it was interesting to hear what she said about them, given past Sino-Japanese relations.
I have some bad news that's pretty irrelevant to you at the moment. China has blocked Facebook and my blog because they think I'm a dangerous threat- how cool is that? Okay, maybe they've just blocked Facebook in general, and maybe they've just blocked all blogs that are .blogspot.com. If you're wondering what a blocked webpage looks like, it's just the page you get when it says "Firefox can't connect to Facebook" or "Not Lost, Just Late is not responding."
It sucks, and what's really weird is that my gmail and google are still working. Apparently, about 10% of websites are blocked in China, including Wikipedia. What this means, of course, is that I can't update this or respond to people on FB so everyone probably thinks I hate them. I promise I don't, unless you're someone I really do hate, in which case, I do hate you.
So I kind of have a plan: Travel to Shanghai and spend a few days there, then take the train to Beijing. From there, immediately catch the Trans-Siberian to Ulaanbatuur and travel around Mongolia for about a week (which is the one country where being American actually helps regarding visas as we don't need one and most other nationalities do), then return to Beijing and go on a package tour.
I've never really done a package tour, though I've done several cruises which I enjoyed very much, and in general, the idea doesn't appeal to me. However, backpacking in China has so far been much more difficult than in any other country and is a totally different experience (especially compared to SE Asia). Part of this is due to the language, but it's so much more than that. China is heavily touristed, but mostly by the Chinese. Thus, there's no backpacker network or beaten pack in that way and it's very difficult to find accommodation or other people to talk to/ travelers.
6/5
I wrote all that last night and since then the scenery changed a bit. The dirt changed to a dusty pink, and the greenery is a bit lighter now. The train took way longer than I'd expected and I ended up spending a total of 23 hours and fifteen minutes on the train to Shanghai which I was really, really not happy about. Fortunately, my hostel (after an overpriced cab ride there) was much nicer than I'd expected and I even made it out to buy a pair of jeans that fit! I've been walking around for the past several months with what appears to be a fairly massive erection, simply because my pants have fit so poorly, so I'm quite happy to appear female once again.
I checked out of the hostel today, while Yves moved into a dorm room once again. We went to lunch at Coyote again (I know it seems ridiculous that I had nachos there three times in just over a week, but who knows when I'll get decent nachos again?) where they remembered my order with all my pain in the ass specifications (no olives, no jalapenos, salsa, sour cream and guacamoles on the side). I helped Yves with his English C.V. and a cover letter for a job he wanted to apply to in Hong Kong (and it was great- he'd better get that job) and he bought me lunch. We were both tired since our schedules were so off we'd accidentally stayed up until 5 a.m., watching Saving Private Ryan and drinking large Tsingtaos that morning. We had a couple of Sol beers and then hugged, wished each other the best and headed our separate ways.
Leaving Hong Kong was sad, but it really was time for me to leave, you know how sometimes you just know?
I don't want to talk about the process of getting to Guangzhou because it was longer and more expensive than it should've been due to my stupidity and exhaustion. On the other hand, once again, the visa guy had a hard time ascertaining my identity because my picture looks so different from me, so that made me happy. Finding somewhere to stay was also very difficult and time consuming, so I just screwed around online for a while before crashing.
6/3
Today was a bit frustrating. I checked out of my hotel, hoping to leave on the 6:11 train for Shanghai but a) one leaving at that time wasn't there and b) the trains for the day were full anyway, so I bought a ticket (the only one available was in a seat, not a bed) for the next day for 12:08 to Shanghai.
I tried to find one of the two hostels in my downloaded guide books Yves had given me for China and Mongolia. Neither one seems to exist anymore and after about three hours of looking I ended up with another hotel in an area very close to the last one for the exact same price.
In between, and for the rest of the day, I walked around a leather area with a market for leather goods, and an area for wholesale leather in large fabric roles. Even the air smelled of leather. I had a very good lunch of cabbage and slightly spicy beef knuckles (I think- beef attached to the bone in chunks) in sauce on a bed of rice in a mini cast iron pot inside a bamboo basket (about $1.50). I rested at the hotel for a while before going out to get dinner, a large bowl of at least ten dumplings that were disappointing, for just under $1. I bought a Pearl River beer, which was okay, a SIM card for my phone and a dragonfruit for tomorrow's breakfast.
6/4
Did you know they have oleanders in China? I'm on the train to Shanghai and currently passing through trees reminiscent of Dr. Suess' Truffula trees from The Lorax, tall trunks without leaves until reaching a big ball of shrubbery right at the top, though sadly, they're not neon in real life. China's rural interior is all this medium-dark green contrasted with dark red-orange dirt that's mirrored by the buildings built from bricks of the same earth. The train has passed through a valley, by green mountains, rock formations, both in vertical red softly sculpted towers and gray groupings, lakes and of course, rice paddies, both flat and in tiers.
However, at this moment, I'm about 6.5 hours into this approximately 18 hour long train ride and regretting this decision and wishing I'd taken a bus instead. Sleeping on a train, even in a seat, didn't seem like such a terrible idea, after all, I'd done it in Japan and it had been okay. But, I'd forgotten to ask for a window seat and now I have an aisle seat. And I hadn't counted on all the seats facing each other in groups of four, meaning that none of them could recline at all. Nor had I realized that there would be no arm rests, only squat toilets, many people standing in the crowded train, a total acceptance of spitting on the floor, and smoking in an area on the end of each car. I'd also been told that an attendant came through about every hour to collect trash and no one has so far at any point. Lastly, from my reading online, I'd been led to believe that hot food was fairly readily available (as it was on the train in Thailand) and so far only one type of meal has been on offer and it looked bland and gross. In short, I'm not thrilled. It's also really loud.
That all said, everyone has been quite nice to me. People do stare a lot, but it's just in a curious sort of way as there really aren't many foreigners around here, and none of it feels rude or lecherous. I'm desperately hoping the couple across from me gets off a.s.a.p. so I can sit over there as I know the guy next to me is going to Shanghai and I don't know how I'll sleep otherwise. One girl, Hualien, and her friend talked to me for quite a while. Her English was quite good, though her accent was very strong. She was very impressed when I told her of my plans and traveling. Her friend had me try this candy that looked like a long, thin round stick of baloney. It was actually dry candy/ appetite suppressant cut into slices about the thickness of Necco wafers that tasted kind of like Sweet Tarts, which are okay, but I'm not hugely fond of. They liked looking at my passport and some photos I had from home and her friend gave me her cell phone charmed once I complimented her on it, which was very sweet. Tellingly, perhaps, Hualien reacted strongly when I said that I'd visited Japan and asked if I was scared there. I said no, that I'd really liked it, which surprised her greatly. She told me she'd heard the Japanese were very cruel. I mention all this because I think it was interesting to hear what she said about them, given past Sino-Japanese relations.
I have some bad news that's pretty irrelevant to you at the moment. China has blocked Facebook and my blog because they think I'm a dangerous threat- how cool is that? Okay, maybe they've just blocked Facebook in general, and maybe they've just blocked all blogs that are .blogspot.com. If you're wondering what a blocked webpage looks like, it's just the page you get when it says "Firefox can't connect to Facebook" or "Not Lost, Just Late is not responding."
It sucks, and what's really weird is that my gmail and google are still working. Apparently, about 10% of websites are blocked in China, including Wikipedia. What this means, of course, is that I can't update this or respond to people on FB so everyone probably thinks I hate them. I promise I don't, unless you're someone I really do hate, in which case, I do hate you.
So I kind of have a plan: Travel to Shanghai and spend a few days there, then take the train to Beijing. From there, immediately catch the Trans-Siberian to Ulaanbatuur and travel around Mongolia for about a week (which is the one country where being American actually helps regarding visas as we don't need one and most other nationalities do), then return to Beijing and go on a package tour.
I've never really done a package tour, though I've done several cruises which I enjoyed very much, and in general, the idea doesn't appeal to me. However, backpacking in China has so far been much more difficult than in any other country and is a totally different experience (especially compared to SE Asia). Part of this is due to the language, but it's so much more than that. China is heavily touristed, but mostly by the Chinese. Thus, there's no backpacker network or beaten pack in that way and it's very difficult to find accommodation or other people to talk to/ travelers.
6/5
I wrote all that last night and since then the scenery changed a bit. The dirt changed to a dusty pink, and the greenery is a bit lighter now. The train took way longer than I'd expected and I ended up spending a total of 23 hours and fifteen minutes on the train to Shanghai which I was really, really not happy about. Fortunately, my hostel (after an overpriced cab ride there) was much nicer than I'd expected and I even made it out to buy a pair of jeans that fit! I've been walking around for the past several months with what appears to be a fairly massive erection, simply because my pants have fit so poorly, so I'm quite happy to appear female once again.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Eating, Drinking and Waking Up in Falsificaso Vegas (Redundant)
5/27 - 6/1
Yves and I did very, very little this week. We ate, drank, watched a lot of movies, picked up our visas and slept. However, we have done a few important things: eating very well and finding great bars. You may know that I have a particularly amazing skill: finding awesome places to eat and drink. Yves did his part in finding Fat Angelo's, an Italian restaurant that made their own fresh Italian dressing that was so good that I even liked it, and I hate all salad dressings (except Blue Cheese). Otherwise, he was very good at following me and indulging my whimsical quests when it seemed like a bar or restaurant didn't exist. Actually, one thing I especially liked about him in general was that he would indulge my crazy (and sometimes they get really random) whims and follow me anywhere. It made him very easy to be with.
Anyway, I don't remember exactly how I found the first place, but it was a place that specialized in Peking Duck, called...Peking Restaurant. He'd never had Peking duck before, which appalled me, and liked it. We were seated at the table with the other two foreigners (an older British couple) who took this picture for us. The duck, hoison sauce and pancakes were very good and I showed Yves how you put the sauce on a pancake then add duck, spring onion and cucumber. It would've been better if the pancakes and duck were hot, but it was still great.
We also went to a place recommended to me by my grandlittle sister, Tiffany, (from my sorority, Delta Delta Delta) whose family is from Hong Kong originally, though she's a native Californian (I know what you're thinking, and no, she couldn't get any more awesome if she tried). She recommended a dim sum restaurant, Din Tai Fung. We actually went to a different branch than the one she recommended (since it was three blocks from our place) and it was fabulous. It also had a plaque outside saying that the N.Y. Times had rated it one of the ten best restaurants in the world. Admittedly, the bronzed article was from 1993, but I was still excited. Dim sum is better with more people, but we were still able to try several fantastic plates.
We started with a plate of steamed spinach and garlic, which was very good (and surprising, since I normally dislike spinach), Spicy Shrimp Wontons (which was recommended by our waitress and was Yves' favorite and one of my favorites) which had an incredibly complex, developed flavor (do you ever wonder if I just make this tuff up by using buzzwords? Because sometimes I do.) but anyway, was really good and spicy without being grossly hot-spicy. Our third starting choice was the Steamed Pork Dumplings, their specialty (and my other favorite) which had a complicated method for eating, which always excites me. You started by picking it up with your chopsticks, then you dipped it in your sauce dish (a combination of fresh ginger threads and as much soy sauce as you wished to add) and then you transferred it to a small bowl where you put it down and poked it, releasing the broth inside which mixed with the sauce. Finally, you used a spoon to gather the dumpling, sauce and broth in a spoon and eat it. I think it probably would've been just as good without that process, but it was fun to poke it and sometimes I just like to over-complicate things unnecessarily.
Once we finished those, we ordered Special Sauce Dumplings (made with shrimp and pork) and Shrimp Fried Rice. Both were very good, but not amazing, as our first picks had been. For dessert, we decided on taro dumplings, which were just slightly sweet but, as Yves noticed as he finished his third and eyed mine, got better the more you ate. We each had tea and a Tsingtao beer with our meal and it came out to $359 HKD (about $47) for both of us, which I thought was a great deal.
At another point, we randomly walked into a sushi place and ended up with excellent salmon sashimi, which I mention because it means that we had great: Italian, Mexican, Japanese, Dim Sum and Peking Duck all in Hong Kong. Of course, we spent a bit more for this than I usually do, and in general the street food was unimpressive, but overall I mean to say that Hong Kong has wonderful food.
But, enough about the food. I want to tell you about the bars! I preferred Soho over the LKF or Wan Chi Red Light District (though a clean, fairly nice one) areas and Yves looked in his guidebook, which recommended V13. He had only to say the words "vodka bar" to describe it and and I was in. It also was on the edge of Soho, not quite in the middle, so it was a bit better, but when we got there the bartender told us it was no longer a vodka bar. They used to be, but had changed about six months ago. We decided to stay there for a drink anyway and I had a vodka-diet, while he opted for a (very good) White Russian). I had read somewhere that Thursday night was Ladies Night, so my goal for the evening was to get one free drink. The bartender told me that it was generally Wednesday night that was Ladies Night, but (I believe because he was bored as the bar was empty except for ourselves and one regular) he gave us all free tequila shots so we stayed there for most of the rest of that night and had a great time just talking to the bartender and the regular. Yves wanted a new lighter, so the bartender showed us the bars collection:
Somehow, that night, I was given a magazine for expats called Brouhaha (with NaNa from Ghana's number written on the back). I obviously ignored the number but read the magazine the next day and it recommended a secret bar (just the idea of which gets me nearly drunk with excitement) called Sense 99, which we went to that night. You went to 99 Wellington, which, due to some odd street signs is hard to find, then looked for the little buzzer button which had Sense 99 written next to it. On our way out, I noticed the unlit sign above, but you'd never know it was there or a bar otherwise. From outside, you couldn't hear any music or see any lights, but after you were buzzed in (by someone who checked that you knew what you were looking for) and went up a flight of stairs, you walked into a great little bar. The first floor had a bar which consisted of a cooler full of beers, another cooler of Coke bottles and a few scattered liquor bottles. The second floor had an outside balcony and a mini stage set up with a piano, bass, drums, guitars, rain stick, bongos, accordian and a few other instruments that were available for anyone to play. I might have tested my skills as a rock star, but while we were there, someone else was always playing, including an actual band that seemed to just coalesce out of thin air. The band was especially fun to watch because it was obvious that they were just jamming out and weren't getting paid. Each one of them just looked like they absolutely loved what they were doing and it's always nice to watch people do what they love, even if it doesn't really mean anything to you.
Yves had really liked his White Russian, so we went back to V13, which had some big party going on with a DJ, though by the time we got there, it was dying down. We went with a few people to some other club after that and called it a night (though way later).
On Tuesday, June 1st, I went alone to Macau. The weather sucked and many of the areas I saw were empty and closed. I was feeling fairly depressed about that and rather unimpressed because so much of the "Portuguese" waterfront area was refurbished, partially by casinos and partially by faux old Portuguese style so it was difficult to tell which parts were authentic and which parts had been built within the past ten years.
Macau itself was strange. It felt like Vegas in complete decline. The casinos were beautiful and glitzy but there just weren't enough people there. I went over to the more historic area: the Monte Fort and the front remains of St. Paul's Cathedral, of which just the facade and base structure was left. On my way through Senado Square I sat down and was quickly approached by a group of Hong Kong Middle School students. The group wanted to give me a brief presentation on the history of Macau and practice their English. Of course, I obliged and they were all very sweet. At the end, I filled out a survey about how well they'd done and gave them highest marks. They were so happy and excited and took pictures with me. I asked them to take a picture and here it is below. Oddly, this was the least happy they ever looked- at every other second they had these giant smiles filling their faces. After their presentation, they gave me a present. I opened it later and it was a bunch of Macau pastries. I actually didn't like them, but it was very sweet and none of the other white people accosted by the several groups of students got a present- it was just my awesome group.
I went to the cathedral remains and the fort. It was a weird feeling because it seemed so much like the areas and places in Mexico, the Caribbean and even parts of the U.S.- the forts in Florida and Puerto Rico (can we call that the U.S. yet?) and the feeling, though not the architecture, of so many of the missions in California. So Macau was very interesting, though felt quite strange.
Spending so much time on the road like this, it sometimes feels like I'm living several lives and the way people move through my life is so much faster that it feels like it just takes the core essence of relationships and misses the rest (good and bad). So, even though I know this sounds stupid and pretentious, in my opinion of myself, I can become a local in two weeks, or go through an entire relationship in that time period and have it actually matter (from the getting to know each other stage, to "dating," through the arguments, to the repetition, to the realization that you're not right for each other, all the way up to the break-up and leaving peacefully, hoping only good things for the other person and thinking they're alright, just not for you.)
More on Yves:
Yves and I moved into a single room together after two days and it's pretty hard to avoid someone you're sleeping in the same bed with. He's a good guy, though very...German. Just in general, he won't compliment me at all, even when I try to prod him by complimenting him. It took me a few days of feeling slightly ugly to get used to that but then I really realized that was just his issue, not mine and that was just the way he was. He's fairly smart and pretty funny, mostly interesting. He's also just easy to be with since this obviously isn't going anywhere and there's no pressure, and he lets me lead him anywhere I feel like (to the History Museum, the Big Buddha, two different restaurants and a bar).
Also, and don't tell anyone I admitted to this, but even though I'm obviously the person in charge when we go out to restaurants or try to figure out where we're going on the MTR (subway), it's nice to feel safe with someone. Walking with him, I can cross odd alleyways and streets, stay out later or even just leave my purse on the barstool with him when I go to the bathroom. It's simply comforting and sometimes I feel like I need a bit of stability, moving like I do.
Lastly, he spends more freely than I generally do and being a guy, eats quite a bit more and I've been somewhat imitating his habits. Terrible for my budget and thighs, but great for my happiness level.
And it sounds weird, but it felt like a real (albeit short and not super-serious) relationship to me. Neither of us was in love with each other, but enjoyed each others company and parted on great terms, like a textbook end to a relationship and I think that's the aspect I'm stuck on. Even though technically, we "broke up" (though I think he'd think it strange that I'd call him an ex-boyfriend) because I left the country (again), it was really because we just weren't right for each other, but still saw value in the other person. It was a very peaceful, mature break-up. Furthermore, I think I can call it a relationship simply because I say it is, since I'm the one considering it, and I say it is; it is, because of my saying so most of all, see?
Yves and I did very, very little this week. We ate, drank, watched a lot of movies, picked up our visas and slept. However, we have done a few important things: eating very well and finding great bars. You may know that I have a particularly amazing skill: finding awesome places to eat and drink. Yves did his part in finding Fat Angelo's, an Italian restaurant that made their own fresh Italian dressing that was so good that I even liked it, and I hate all salad dressings (except Blue Cheese). Otherwise, he was very good at following me and indulging my whimsical quests when it seemed like a bar or restaurant didn't exist. Actually, one thing I especially liked about him in general was that he would indulge my crazy (and sometimes they get really random) whims and follow me anywhere. It made him very easy to be with.
Anyway, I don't remember exactly how I found the first place, but it was a place that specialized in Peking Duck, called...Peking Restaurant. He'd never had Peking duck before, which appalled me, and liked it. We were seated at the table with the other two foreigners (an older British couple) who took this picture for us. The duck, hoison sauce and pancakes were very good and I showed Yves how you put the sauce on a pancake then add duck, spring onion and cucumber. It would've been better if the pancakes and duck were hot, but it was still great.
We also went to a place recommended to me by my grandlittle sister, Tiffany, (from my sorority, Delta Delta Delta) whose family is from Hong Kong originally, though she's a native Californian (I know what you're thinking, and no, she couldn't get any more awesome if she tried). She recommended a dim sum restaurant, Din Tai Fung. We actually went to a different branch than the one she recommended (since it was three blocks from our place) and it was fabulous. It also had a plaque outside saying that the N.Y. Times had rated it one of the ten best restaurants in the world. Admittedly, the bronzed article was from 1993, but I was still excited. Dim sum is better with more people, but we were still able to try several fantastic plates.
We started with a plate of steamed spinach and garlic, which was very good (and surprising, since I normally dislike spinach), Spicy Shrimp Wontons (which was recommended by our waitress and was Yves' favorite and one of my favorites) which had an incredibly complex, developed flavor (do you ever wonder if I just make this tuff up by using buzzwords? Because sometimes I do.) but anyway, was really good and spicy without being grossly hot-spicy. Our third starting choice was the Steamed Pork Dumplings, their specialty (and my other favorite) which had a complicated method for eating, which always excites me. You started by picking it up with your chopsticks, then you dipped it in your sauce dish (a combination of fresh ginger threads and as much soy sauce as you wished to add) and then you transferred it to a small bowl where you put it down and poked it, releasing the broth inside which mixed with the sauce. Finally, you used a spoon to gather the dumpling, sauce and broth in a spoon and eat it. I think it probably would've been just as good without that process, but it was fun to poke it and sometimes I just like to over-complicate things unnecessarily.
Once we finished those, we ordered Special Sauce Dumplings (made with shrimp and pork) and Shrimp Fried Rice. Both were very good, but not amazing, as our first picks had been. For dessert, we decided on taro dumplings, which were just slightly sweet but, as Yves noticed as he finished his third and eyed mine, got better the more you ate. We each had tea and a Tsingtao beer with our meal and it came out to $359 HKD (about $47) for both of us, which I thought was a great deal.
At another point, we randomly walked into a sushi place and ended up with excellent salmon sashimi, which I mention because it means that we had great: Italian, Mexican, Japanese, Dim Sum and Peking Duck all in Hong Kong. Of course, we spent a bit more for this than I usually do, and in general the street food was unimpressive, but overall I mean to say that Hong Kong has wonderful food.
But, enough about the food. I want to tell you about the bars! I preferred Soho over the LKF or Wan Chi Red Light District (though a clean, fairly nice one) areas and Yves looked in his guidebook, which recommended V13. He had only to say the words "vodka bar" to describe it and and I was in. It also was on the edge of Soho, not quite in the middle, so it was a bit better, but when we got there the bartender told us it was no longer a vodka bar. They used to be, but had changed about six months ago. We decided to stay there for a drink anyway and I had a vodka-diet, while he opted for a (very good) White Russian). I had read somewhere that Thursday night was Ladies Night, so my goal for the evening was to get one free drink. The bartender told me that it was generally Wednesday night that was Ladies Night, but (I believe because he was bored as the bar was empty except for ourselves and one regular) he gave us all free tequila shots so we stayed there for most of the rest of that night and had a great time just talking to the bartender and the regular. Yves wanted a new lighter, so the bartender showed us the bars collection:
Somehow, that night, I was given a magazine for expats called Brouhaha (with NaNa from Ghana's number written on the back). I obviously ignored the number but read the magazine the next day and it recommended a secret bar (just the idea of which gets me nearly drunk with excitement) called Sense 99, which we went to that night. You went to 99 Wellington, which, due to some odd street signs is hard to find, then looked for the little buzzer button which had Sense 99 written next to it. On our way out, I noticed the unlit sign above, but you'd never know it was there or a bar otherwise. From outside, you couldn't hear any music or see any lights, but after you were buzzed in (by someone who checked that you knew what you were looking for) and went up a flight of stairs, you walked into a great little bar. The first floor had a bar which consisted of a cooler full of beers, another cooler of Coke bottles and a few scattered liquor bottles. The second floor had an outside balcony and a mini stage set up with a piano, bass, drums, guitars, rain stick, bongos, accordian and a few other instruments that were available for anyone to play. I might have tested my skills as a rock star, but while we were there, someone else was always playing, including an actual band that seemed to just coalesce out of thin air. The band was especially fun to watch because it was obvious that they were just jamming out and weren't getting paid. Each one of them just looked like they absolutely loved what they were doing and it's always nice to watch people do what they love, even if it doesn't really mean anything to you.
Yves had really liked his White Russian, so we went back to V13, which had some big party going on with a DJ, though by the time we got there, it was dying down. We went with a few people to some other club after that and called it a night (though way later).
On Tuesday, June 1st, I went alone to Macau. The weather sucked and many of the areas I saw were empty and closed. I was feeling fairly depressed about that and rather unimpressed because so much of the "Portuguese" waterfront area was refurbished, partially by casinos and partially by faux old Portuguese style so it was difficult to tell which parts were authentic and which parts had been built within the past ten years.
Macau itself was strange. It felt like Vegas in complete decline. The casinos were beautiful and glitzy but there just weren't enough people there. I went over to the more historic area: the Monte Fort and the front remains of St. Paul's Cathedral, of which just the facade and base structure was left. On my way through Senado Square I sat down and was quickly approached by a group of Hong Kong Middle School students. The group wanted to give me a brief presentation on the history of Macau and practice their English. Of course, I obliged and they were all very sweet. At the end, I filled out a survey about how well they'd done and gave them highest marks. They were so happy and excited and took pictures with me. I asked them to take a picture and here it is below. Oddly, this was the least happy they ever looked- at every other second they had these giant smiles filling their faces. After their presentation, they gave me a present. I opened it later and it was a bunch of Macau pastries. I actually didn't like them, but it was very sweet and none of the other white people accosted by the several groups of students got a present- it was just my awesome group.
I went to the cathedral remains and the fort. It was a weird feeling because it seemed so much like the areas and places in Mexico, the Caribbean and even parts of the U.S.- the forts in Florida and Puerto Rico (can we call that the U.S. yet?) and the feeling, though not the architecture, of so many of the missions in California. So Macau was very interesting, though felt quite strange.
Spending so much time on the road like this, it sometimes feels like I'm living several lives and the way people move through my life is so much faster that it feels like it just takes the core essence of relationships and misses the rest (good and bad). So, even though I know this sounds stupid and pretentious, in my opinion of myself, I can become a local in two weeks, or go through an entire relationship in that time period and have it actually matter (from the getting to know each other stage, to "dating," through the arguments, to the repetition, to the realization that you're not right for each other, all the way up to the break-up and leaving peacefully, hoping only good things for the other person and thinking they're alright, just not for you.)
More on Yves:
Yves and I moved into a single room together after two days and it's pretty hard to avoid someone you're sleeping in the same bed with. He's a good guy, though very...German. Just in general, he won't compliment me at all, even when I try to prod him by complimenting him. It took me a few days of feeling slightly ugly to get used to that but then I really realized that was just his issue, not mine and that was just the way he was. He's fairly smart and pretty funny, mostly interesting. He's also just easy to be with since this obviously isn't going anywhere and there's no pressure, and he lets me lead him anywhere I feel like (to the History Museum, the Big Buddha, two different restaurants and a bar).
Also, and don't tell anyone I admitted to this, but even though I'm obviously the person in charge when we go out to restaurants or try to figure out where we're going on the MTR (subway), it's nice to feel safe with someone. Walking with him, I can cross odd alleyways and streets, stay out later or even just leave my purse on the barstool with him when I go to the bathroom. It's simply comforting and sometimes I feel like I need a bit of stability, moving like I do.
Lastly, he spends more freely than I generally do and being a guy, eats quite a bit more and I've been somewhat imitating his habits. Terrible for my budget and thighs, but great for my happiness level.
And it sounds weird, but it felt like a real (albeit short and not super-serious) relationship to me. Neither of us was in love with each other, but enjoyed each others company and parted on great terms, like a textbook end to a relationship and I think that's the aspect I'm stuck on. Even though technically, we "broke up" (though I think he'd think it strange that I'd call him an ex-boyfriend) because I left the country (again), it was really because we just weren't right for each other, but still saw value in the other person. It was a very peaceful, mature break-up. Furthermore, I think I can call it a relationship simply because I say it is, since I'm the one considering it, and I say it is; it is, because of my saying so most of all, see?
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