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.

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).

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

Tea-riffic Day (I'm sorry, I really am and slightly hate myself right now for that)

5/15-

Today really was a great day.  Judy met me at the subway station to take me to the Lin Family Mansion and Garden, one of the few truly traditional Chinese houses left in Taiwan.  It was nice and a very kind guide helped explain some of the symbolism for me through Judy's interpretation.  Afterwards, we met Judy's Mother, Sister and 3 year old Niece.  We went over to see the Taipei 101 building but I didn't go up it since I didn't want to spend the money when it was so foggy (and I'd been waiting all week for it to clear up but it never did).  From there, we went over to a Barracks Museum showing the barracks that housed the Chinese soldiers and their families after the split.  The soldiers had their immediate families with them but were never allowed to return to the Mainland to see the rest of their families.  I'm doing a poor job of explaining this, but they weren't prisoners, just couldn't go back to China, so the families banded together and created an enclave.  It was somewhat interesting, more so because Judy's grandparents had been a part of the original settlement.

Next we went for a ride on the Maokong Gondola (cable car) which was really nice, even though it was getting very dark and our visibility was limited.  The top town had small hills of tea leaves.  I couldn't smell them as tea, but could smell the strong scent.  It's known for its tea and Judy said it was one of the few places in Taipei where they still grow it.

For dinner, we went to a tea restaurant with a lovely view out over the valley.  Everything we ate had tea in it so we had: vermicelli with tea leaves, fried tea leaves, chopped or crushed tea leaves in fried rice, chicken and seafood soup with tea leaves, pork and shrimp sauce with tea leaves and baby bamboo.  Most of it was delicious- I especially liked the fried tea leaves, the noodles with tea leaves and the bamboo.  The bamboo didn't have much flavor, but basically absorbed whatever you ate it with (like tofu, but better tasting) so I just dipped it in a yummy chili sauce.  It also had a really nice texture, sort of like asparagus (only texture wise, not taste) and was just so much more satisfying than tofu.  I hadn't even realized that you could eat bamboo, though only when it's young and basically still a cone, but I wish it were more easily available- I could see myself eating it frequently.

After the tea dinner, which Judy very generously paid for, we took the gondola back down.  Judy said there were fireflies out but I didn't see any.  I played a bit with her niece, though it was difficult since she didn't speak any English, but was cute and well-behaved.  She also had a rather insane amount of energy at 10 p.m. so when we got off we danced around a little bit.

Right next door to the gondola base was Dancing Waters, a large fountain that had free water/music/light shows every hour or half hour so we waited and watched one, which was really pretty.  We all took the train back together, though I had to say my goodbyes when I got off at my stop first.  Even though I'd started out in Taipei very unhappy with the local who was supposed to show me around, Judy had more than made up for it in the past two days and had really made me feel special and like some weird, half-related crazy cousin (to use sitcom characterization) in a good way.

Nature: Not So Bad?

5/12

No internet.  I feel hardcore.  And I'm actually rethinking this nature stuff- it's not really that bad.  I'm currently sitting on part of a giant marble mountain that forms one side of a gorge with light gray waters stippling on the immersed rocks as they rush by me.  I'm at Taroko National Park in Taiwan and I had to climb sideways to get where I'm sitting now.  The only sign of human existence within 360* of where I'm sitting is an old cable the color of the dark mountains behind it, now tied to the branch of a tree which has twirled itself partially around it, resting on it for support.  The temperature is perfect; not humid nor dry, not hot nor cold and I'd say the weather was perfect except that the clouds and surrounding mist are covering any hint of sunshine, making the whole valley look as if only two colors have ever existed: dark-grass green and gray.

It sounds quite depressing when I put it like that but it's kind of nice.  I heard a beeping a while ago and was concerned that someone else was on their way to steal my tranquility (albeit, tranquility with a laptop) but I realized that it was actually just a bird chirping.  Am I that far removed from nature and has it been that long since I've been in it?  Maybe I've just avoided it because I think of it as "NATURE" meaning hardcore wilderness trampling through a humid jungle.  Perhaps I just don't like humidity?  It does make me love my netbook even more.  Now I can have peace, but not too much.  Also, I might spot a leopard in the wild- how cool would that be?

I got here by leaving my hostel, late as usual, at around 6:30 a.m. for a train that left at 6:45.  In my usual dashing way, I made it with two minutes to spare.  Through the tunnels and the city and into the rural countryside, we traveled.  The train trudged uphill, pushing its way as if through sand, through the unexpected rainforest.

I was reading my book by my window seat on the right side on the train, glancing up occasionally to see the verdant mountains in the mist on my side when I looked over to the left, and there was the ocean view I'd been longing for in Japan, at least for a short while.  I hopped over to an empty seat on the left side and watched the small island we passed, and the shoreline, all large, dark boulders.  And I think we just passed a large white mosque.

The roadside temples I've seen so far are particularly different from those in Cambodia, Thailand, Korea and Japan.  The same basic structure is there, but these ones have incredible carvings of dragons with fine details and many spikes.

If you'd asked me what I'd expected of Taiwan, after first admitting that I hadn't particularly considered it, I would have said that I thought it was little more than a city-state island nation, with Taipei and a little bit around it.  But it's surprising me, more and more.  It's much closer to a large Caribbean island, with one main city, but several other cities/large towns and huge jungles, beaches and rural areas.  I'm still not impressed by the people, but little bits of the country are unexpected and interesting.

Mei told me one interesting thing and that was that -keeping in mind that this is just what she said, I'm not stating facts here- about half of the Taiwanese, including herself, wanted reunification with China, which surprised me as I wouldn't have expected it to be that high.  She also said that the reason they couldn't be reunited was because the U.S. wouldn't let it happen because then China and Taiwan together would be too powerful!  I thought that was a pretty preposterous thing to say as I don't particularly think of Taiwan as threatening in any way.  China is, of course, but to suggest that the difference Taiwan would make is that significant strikes me as hugely arrogant, and quite delusional.  To me, it's the equivalent of a Puerto Rican saying that other countries would be threatened by the combination of them and the U.S. because together they'd be too powerful.  It's just insane.

After a three hour train ride, I bought a bus ticket for Tiansiang.  The bus didn't leave for another hour so I went and got a breakfast burger before boarding at 10:50.  The bus ride, half of which was truly exciting scenery along the Taroko gorge, took about an hour and forty-five minutes, so I arrived a bit after 12:30.  I walked up to the hostel and checked in.  The manager wanted to charge me $400 NTD, about $13 but I said that it said $300 online and he said, it's for your own room.  Considering that the sign in sheet had only had two other visitors (two couples) in the entire month of May, I felt fairly certain that the dorm would be my own room anyway so I made him give me that price.

After feeling the beds, which are basically wood covered with very hard, tightly woven hay mats, I'm grateful I didn't pay any more, though now I almost wish I'd skipped it and camped outside, though then I might be eaten by black bears that inhabit this park- they're nocturnal right?

I spoke too soon.  The thing I'd forgotten about Nature was the reason that I didn't like it- I'd just remembered the fact that I didn't like it.  It's boring.  It is boring as all flip-all.  When you're actually doing the hiking or something like that you're usually too miserable to be bored, but at night, especially if you're alone, it's totally uninteresting.  I need stimulation, even for meditation, I need stimulation, and I don't like the idea of forced calm- I want to choose to be calm when it suits me, like in the Tokyo train station, not when the rest of the world wants to force me into it by lulling me to boredom.

Boo, I wanted to learn Mandarin tonight.  Now I can't because there's no internet access (and yes, I'm going with that as the reason I can't learn an incredibly complex language in one night).

I met some of the local people when I went down to buy beer and guess what?  I was right.  They're people, exactly like everyone else anywhere.

Beautiful Neon Explosion

5/5-

Though I got a slow start, I did actually do and see quite a bit today.  I started by going to asakusa, an old temple, blah, blah, blah.  It was no better than any other temple, even with a nice garden and vaguely interesting history.  I spent some time in the area shopping for souvenirs to send home and found a cheap kimono for myself.  There's some argument about kimonos.  A truly traditional kimono that a geisha would wear, made of silk and embroidered, is wildly expensive and can get into the couture price range (tens of thousands of dollars) so many tourists set on getting a kimono of sorts, opt to buy a yukata which is kind of like a thin bathrobe geishas wear underneath a kimono.  Even these are very expensive so many opt to buy them second-hand.  Unfortunately, second hand stores selling kimonos and their accessories are very difficult to find.  The kimono stores near tourist areas often sell some high end kimonos, but sell many more cheap ones to tourists or Japanese who wear them traditionally.  Some people argue that these are not "real" kimonos, and while they are much, much poorer quality than the ones geisha wear, they are still kimonos and that was good enough for me and my slim wallet.

I found a blue-greenish one that was actually fairly plain, though it has a basic bamboo leaf pattern.  It fit well, though it was a little long and I liked it emotionally more than I logically should have aesthetically.  It was also my last day to possibly buy one and was the right price.

Taking the Tokyo Metro from one station to another should be simple.  The stations and trains are fairly clean, there are Women Only cars for peak hours so you don't get molested by a chikan (yes, they have an actual word for subway sexual predators!) because you're so packed in, most signs are in Japanese and English and trains are reasonably fast  Unfortunately, there are serious organizational problems that make stations illogical and transfers ridiculous.  Amazingly, I never actually had too much trouble, but the system was so illogical and bizarre, I don't know how I didn't.  My trip today emphasized that.  On the map, Asakusa station is one a particular line, Asakusa.  It stops at Bakuro-yokoyama station, where I could transfer to Shinjuku line to get to, Shinjuku.  So I entered Asakusa station but didn't see a single sign for that line, despite seeing several for the Ginza line (though I did later find a very small single one, squashed in between other, useless information, that I'd missed).  There was a man at an information desk I asked and he told me to leave this station to the street through a particular exit then follow the signs to Asakusa station Asakusa line.  In other words, there were two unconnected Asakusa stations.  It wasn't a long walk, but just shockingly unplanned.  I got to the station, got a train to Bakuro-yokoyama, my transfer point and was again shocked at the confusing directions.  To transfer to the other line, I again had to leave the station, go aboveground and walk.  Again, it wasn't a long walk, just a few blocks, but there were turns so it wasn't just walk two blocks straight, and few signs, through a neighborhood that didn't feel unsafe exactly, but underpopulated- a place I wouldn't feel completely comfortable walking through at night.  Like I said, I somehow managed all this without getting lost or confused, but I just thought it was an insane system.  I took a picture of one of the signs to show the craziness, but lost the picture with my camera.

In the middle of the transfer, I stopped at a Yoshinoya, a Japanese fast-food place, for a beef bowl for dinner.  Finally, I arrived at Shinjuku.  Shinjuku is probably the area closest to the super busy Tokyo at night stereotype you imagine.  It's just all neon lights and people and noise and it was wonderful.  It was the sort of place where I think other people might feel overstimulated, but I felt like "Finally! A place I won't be bored!"  There was also this area of three tiny alleyways nearby filled with tiny bars, most with only the bar and three or four stools before you ran into the wall.  Many of them had vague themes and apparently many of them are so exclusive that you can't go in unless you're a regular (so how one becomes a regular in the first place, I don't know, maybe it's hereditary).  Anyway, it was just really cool and dark and dingy and off and low-key and happy.  I don't know, but I thought it was fantastic.

Sleeping in the Shower (Still Stuck on Stupid alliteration)

5/3-

I woke up in the shower at around 9 a.m., tired and with a bit of a hangover.  Since I was already there, I took a shower then left the hostel through a side door.  Looking around for a breakfast place, I found loads of options but few that really appealed to me so I ended up getting something random.  On the way, I passed a brand new internet cafe.  The rates seemed high but I really wanted a nap and it was brand new, just opened in April, so I went in.  They didn't have free soda, which made me sad, but I had a very nice, actual room (about 4' by 6') to myself, instead of just a cubicle.  There was also a gorgeous, huge new flatscreen for a monitor and a sort of mat/chair that could fold down flat instead of a regular chair and it was more comfortable than my bed at the hostel had been!  I did, however, notice some things that were rather odd.

At the entrance to the cafe, they had some random things for sale.  This is normal, but it's usually something like snacks.  This cafe seemed to be selling vibrators.  I was surprised and looked closer to make sure I was seeing correctly, since the writing was all in Japanese and the women were in, let's say, compromising, position.  They weren't vibrators.  They were fleshlights (that is what they're called, right?), the, um, rubber/silicon/whatever tubes some men use to masturbate with to approximate a vagina.  I then realized that the library of what I'd assumed to be manga books (most internet cafes have large manga collections) were actually adult books and magazines and the DVDs available for sale were all porn!  Well, okay, that was weird, but I'd already paid, and it was like 10 a.m. so it wasn't busy at all and as bizarre as it was, it was totally clean and safe.

In the basket the guy gave me, there was: a clipboard with my bill, a pair of headphones, and two wet wipes.  Inside my room, besides the above mentioned, was a box of tissues.  I turned on the moitor and was immediately greeted by a naked Japanese woman moaning in a very squeaky annoying voice.  Apparently the monitor was also a t.v. and they had one channel of free porn, which, unluckily for me, had been the last thing turned to by the previous occupant.  Immediately, I turned down the sound, embarrassed, as I hadn't plugged the headphones in yet, and tried to figure out how to change it to computer use.  It seemed to take a long while, though it was probably only about a minute.  Finally, though, I got everything working and checked my emails and took a nice nap.

When I left, around noon, there were several people dressed up in traditional Japanese costumes, beating drums, marching and carrying a portable shrine which kept bouncing up and down as they jumped in unison.    Everyone seemed so happy and excited and as I walked away, I saw two other such groups with portable shrines.  I remembered that the next day was a festival in that area and assume they were all practicing, but it was still very cool to see.

I'd decided to try to check into a capsule hotel early to put my stuff down and then go sightseeing.  In Asakusa, there was one that accepted women, so I found that. It was a hugely touristed area, though with an admittedly very cool view of part of Tokyo's skyline, and bizarrely for a capsule hotel, they were already completely booked for that night!  I made a reservation to stay the next night, just for the experience and asked them if I could use their phone to call another place to see if they had room.  For some reason, they made this into a BFD and wouldn't left me, even though it was a local call and I'd wanted to stay at their hotel and had just made a reservation.  They told me where a payphone was, but I was really annoyed and felt their behavior was quite uncourteous. 

I did use the payphone to call my next choice, New Koyo Hostel, since it was sort of far out, but very cheap.  They had a single room available, so I said I'd be right over.  Using the directions from my POS Lonely Planet guidebook, I tried to find the place and ended up wandering around for about 45 minutes.  I asked one person for directions and they weren't very good so I ended up lost in an area that I later found out was called Soapland.  It was very strange- the buildings looked like love motels; I saw castles and harems, most with towncars and men in black suits with white shirts parked in front.  Even though they looked like love motels, they almost all had signs showing women in lingerie with prices that were far too high for an hourly rate at a love motel.  This all indicated that they were strip clubs. 

Later, I asked the hostel owner about it and he said they were actually brothels and the area was the original Red-Light district in Tokyo (though I read somewhere else that another area held this distinction).  Regardless, it was a sort of creepy area (though not terrible, I felt relatively safe and think it was semi-upmarket as far as brothels go) and I was glad I was lost only in the daylight and not at night.

Eventually I did find finding New Koyo and even though it was only late afternoon, I felt exhausted and discouraged and depressed from the difficulties, so I just stayed in, wrote, watched t.v. (both in Japanese, and online) and had ramen for dinner.

Random Ranting and Wandering in Trendy Tokyo

Saturday May 1, 2010

Lately, I'm having crazy cravings, like the kind you hear about women getting when they're pregnant (I'm not, don't laugh, it's not something funny, and never something to joke about).  Right this second, I would be willing to die for: cottage cheese, a really good salad, and caramel, the hot liquid kind you'd put on ice cream, though I really just want the caramel, though maybe with some whipped cream and peanuts in my mouth at the same time.

I really want to go running again, and I think the weather would finally be nice for it, but I'm afraid that I'll hurt my ankle.  I twisted it on my most recent all-nighter in Osaka at some point, but barely, it really didn't hurt much, just bruised and swelled up a bit.  It doesn't hurt at all anymore, but it still feels weak and I don't want to push it because then I'm afraid I'll really hurt it and I won't be able to run, or even walk long distances, for ages.  Actually, I seem to twist my ankle a fair bit, though it's usually (including currently) no big deal, though it was pretty bad once when I nearly broke it.  Anyway, irrelevant.

Tonight, while uploading pictures, I realized that I only have four pictures of me in Japan and two of those are at the Sapporo factory; good thing I've got my priorities straight.

I can't believe it's May already!  How the hell did that happen?!  That means I've been traveling for just under two months (8 weeks on Monday).

In all that time, and in all my time staying in the hostel upon my arrival in Oz, I have yet to meet a single American female traveler (in the way of doing what I'm doing).  I've met single American male travelers, single female travelers from other countries (including Sweden, the U.K., Germany and France,) I've met American couples traveling and two or more American females traveling together, I've even met single American females traveling within a country in which they were based (by which I primarily mean, English teachers in Korea and Japan) but I have yet to meet any other single American female traveler backpacking around countries.  This makes me really sad.  I know I'm not so unusual or special, so why aren't more American women doing this type of thing?

What it really makes me wonder is if we don't have (additional) sexism in the U.S. that we're unaware of.  I don't think I've spoken about it much here, but in Australia, there is extreme sexism (more than I saw in Western Europe in my time there, or in Japan, now) but Australians barely seem to notice.  It's a difficult type of sexism to explain; quite subtle, but very obvious if you come from somewhere, like the U.S. that doesn't have it (at least in that way).  Most of it is the judgmental views of women (especially, as is true everywhere I've ever been, in regards to their sexuality) that are so totally different from the views on men, but additionally, it is the type of subtle sexism, that if you saw it in the U.S. you'd think, "Huh, that's weird that they'd say that/ That's kind of offensive/ rude/ I wonder how they get away with that," but you don't think too much of it, because it happens so rarely.  In Australia, it's still those little things, but they occur constantly.  Constantly.

Anyway, that's all in Australia.  My point here is that perhaps it exists much more than we realize in the U.S. in a way that we don't recognize, much as they don't recognize it in Oz.  About two years ago, I read a book called After (P.S. shout out here to Google for knowing the name of it when I could only remember a few random details).  It's meant for teenagers, but is an excellent book that feeds into all my paranoia about privacy and rights.  In it, the school slowly becomes more and more restricted and controlled; with extraordinarily harsh punishments, metal detectors and, if I remember right, nationalism in the form of high school rivalry.  Throughout, the parents are kept "informed" by emails explaining the additional dangers facing teens and why the restrictions and privacy invasions were so important, essentially brainwashing them (the parents).

I'm not some conspiracy theorist, and I don't really think we need to seriously worry about high schools being controlled, and parent brain washing anytime soon, but I do worry about the effects of what we see and hear, particularly with the recent passing of a law that allows lobbyists greater access and input than ever before.

Again, I'm getting away from my original point, and this really isn't supposed to be political, but what I mean is that perhaps in the U.S., we've convinced women that they are in so much danger, that we are restricting them and their freedom in a way that we simply don't restrict male freedom.

This also isn't to say that women don't face a greater danger than men do.  We do.  We shouldn't have to, but, shouldn'ts don't really matter in the real world do they?  I know I take a risk, and yes, it is a bit of a greater risk than most women take.  I'm not denying that in of itself.  I'm suggesting that the actual risk has been overblown and that the rewards we miss out on, may be worth it.  They certainly are for me.

*This entire post is discussing sexism outside of the spectrum we obviously know it exists in: wages, promotions, reproductive rights, etc.

Quick Note: The above was all actually written on 5/1 and is mostly rambling.  The long sexism rant was partially inspired by Marybeth, who you'll meet below.  The rest of this entry was written later and actually tells what I did that day.

I finished Lucy this morning, had a very slow lunch at the Cafe that was part of the hostel (margarita pizza that was obviously not really margarita pizza but more edible than I expected upon ordering) and wrote for a while.

I met Marybeth, an American woman teaching English in Japan, about my age.  She was pretty interesting to talk to, and very interested in me, which the narcissist in me adores.  It had been a while since I'd really spoken to pretty much anyone so I had a fairly long conversation with her.  One of the most interesting things she told me was that she had a boyfriend back in the U.S. even though she'd been in Japan since last August!  She said that he had been in Japan for three months too, but that still leaves six months, which to me is just insane, but then I'm not a believer in long distance relationships.  I told her maybe I'd go out with her that night.

Since I had a few days in Tokyo, I slowed down a bit and decided that today I just wanted to read some magazines at a bookstore and look at a guidebook for Taiwan.  Of course, it's not as simple as running out to Barnes and Noble and picking out a comfy chair.

First, I had to look up a place with English books and magazines in my guidebook, then I had to buy a pass, take the subway, transfer once, and then wander for about an hour looking for the right place.  I happened to be wandering in a very nice and interesting area: Shibuya up to Harajuku.  Shibuya is full of several small boutiques and restaurants in side alleys and huge designer stores on the main Omote-sando street so it was fun to look around.  As it was a Saturday it was fairly busy but I didn't feel crushed by the crowd or anything like that.  I didn't get too far into Harajuku but what I saw was surprisingly ordinary and trendy/fashionable only in a boring, overdone way, like hipsters.  It wasn't nearly as interesting as I had hoped/expected. 

I finally found the bookstore on my way back towards Shibuya since I'd missed it on the way up and read Cosmopolitan and Saveur almost front to cover, sitting on a stool I found in the Childrens section.  Sitting there for at least two hours, I also skimmed: Food and Wine, Marie Claire, Vogue, Lucky and glanced at a few others.  Food and Wine recommended a beer place in Tokyo, while Saveur recommended a particular area to eat.  I walked out, much happier, into the semi-darkness.  Night had come while I was reading, but the lights, everywhere, were so bright that it would be misleading to actually call it dark.

And now I could feel the crush of people and density of Tokyo.  There was particular point when I was right before a large intersection, like a smaller Oxford Circus as the light changed. 

In Sydney, at the huge intersection of George St. and the street Woolworths and one end of the QVB is on, people walk in straight, bulging cords as the cars stop.  All at the same moment, people walk either way on each four sides of the square and diagonally across, forming a human square with an X in the middle.  Though it's a large rush of people, and every once in a while a straggler swerves into one of the four triangles of concrete created in between the X and the square, the crowd always retains this structure.  Somehow, the rivers never burst from their path.

This intersection in Shibuya reminded me of that one in Sydney, but with three times the people and none of the order.  It was like a fishing net in the open sea where some fish are visible and then, instantly, something changes, and all the fish are caught wildly squirming in the net.  It was a vibrating block of people, with nothing below them.  I took a picture because it so perfectly captured the idea we sometimes have of Tokyo, as a big city totally filled with people, but of course, lost that picture when I lost my camera in Taiwan (which is why there are no pictures from this point until 5/23).

It was a nice afternoon and I enjoyed my wandering and seeing areas of Tokyo I had wanted to see on the way, but I was tired so I got some ramen and beers at 7-11 and went back to the hostel.  I went to bed at around 12 and Marybeth told me that was about the time she'd come back looking for me but we'd somehow missed each other.  After how busy I'd been lately, I really didn't mind missing out and getting some extra sleep.