Fly the Airplane

I've finally caved in and taken overtime. Usually I refuse, as the overtime usually isnt worth the money for the hassle, but this time was different.

I'll be tutoring stewardesses in airline English. For those who don't know, Harbin is the stewardess capital of China. And now the best of the best are going to be filtered into my class. I intend on teaching them scenes from "Airplane: The Movie."

Oveur.

In the meantime, I challenge our readers to guess what "fly an airplane" means in colloquial Chinese.

You Never Studied

Tonight's class was awesome. We carved squash. We did a word search. I taught them "zombie." I told ghost stories. They told me what they were most afraid of. I told them what I was most afraid of. I told them the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. I didn't explain my answer.

The Unofficial Bill Fan Club

Some of you long time readers might remember the misery I found myself in while teaching at the Harbin University of Science and Technology. For those that don't; we'll leave it at that it wasn't a pleasurable experience. Most of the students didn't care about their education, few participated in class, less did their homework. Plus it took 30 minutes to get their, another 30 to get back, and there was a 10 minute break in the middle of class that I didn't want and that I didn't get paid for. So a lousy 3 hour commitment only yielded less than 2 hours of pay.


Well, I guess I made some sort of difference, as I was contacted the other week by that same university. Turns out my old students want me back and they have been petitioning their administration to hire me back to teach a class. And, as the students (well, the best ones that is) understood my frustration in meeting their university's ridiculous curriculum, they've asked that I get to teach whatever I want however I want to do it. Really, they just want me to be their teacher again, which is great for Mr. Ego.

However, the (retarded) administration won't pay me. They want me to teach pro bono, out of the goodness of my heart. Ha. Haha. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!


But they are paying me to teach a 3 hour class on Tuesday nights for non-English majors. Apparently word got out about this, as each week I've had more and more students show up. English majors. My old students. They are not getting credit for this class, they are just there because I'm the teacher. Mr. Ego is purring with contentment right now.

The scary thing is that I retain the belief that I am not a good teacher. I ignore grammar lessons. I dwell on superfluous meanings and derivations of vocab words. Often I just throw out the assigned material and teach something off the top of my head. And yet, for some reason, my students love this. I'm constantly being told that I not only a student's favorite teacher, but best teacher. Wha? I've railed on the Chinese education system in the past, but if this is truly the case... whoa.

MSG Whillikers!

At times it seems as if my life is little more than a string of battles; issues, big or small, that I deem necessary to open my big ol’ American mouth over and work towards a healthy outcome.

Some of my fellow teachers have experienced certain health problems ever since I arrived. The list is long and exhaustive, including everything from rashes to lethargy to anaphylactic shock. More often than not, we’ve summed these problems up to some simple cause such as the flu, hay fever, malnutrition, and so forth. With the exception of one rather drastic (and ridiculously handled) circumstance most of these maladies have been closer to molehills than mountains.

Recently one of our dingo-ate-my-baby Aussies has been stricken with migraines that have lasted up to twelve hours at a time. I consider this a “big problem.” Perhaps one that “demands medical service.” Of course, I said the same thing about the anaphylactic shock, and the Chinese just didn’t understand.

Luckily this lil’ shrimp-on-the-barbie Downunder-er has got a medical background and did a little research of her own. She analyzed her lifestyle, eliminated external factors, and the symptoms cleared up. Slowly, one by one, she reintroduced certain elements only to find the clear culprit: MSG. (PS: I've been watching a lot of "House" lately.)


Cross referencing the reported (but not proven) symptoms of an MSG allergy and suddenly we found the answer to almost every health problem every foreigner has experienced since I got here. Intriguing. Diagnosis (prognosis? I forget which is which) in hand, we started approaching the school cook in a hope to end the tyrannical use of MSG in her cooking.

I think we’d sooner get blood from a stone.

Every Chinese I discuss this problem with lacks the ability to understand what I’m trying to say. Yes, some people think MSG causes cancer. Yes, some people think that MSG deteriorates eyesight. Yes, MSG can cause rashes, shock, diarrhea, the whole gambit. (There is medical evidence behind all of this.) And, the hardest for them to comprehend, some people do not like the taste of MSG.



In the end, I’m attributing this to the binary thinking of the average Chinese. Food is food, yes, but “good” food must be Chinese, and it must be loaded with MSG. Otherwise it does not fit the rigid definition of “good” food. A filet mignon topped with crumbling bleu cheese cannot be good. Steamed lobster dunked in melted butter cannot be good. Hell, a burrito can’t even be good! Why? Because its not Chinese! Its not loaded in MSG! (Crazed, pushed-too-far laughter emanates across the internet from deranged author to hapless reader.)

Me? Well, MSG will, at times, send my stomach sprinting south for the border, but that has been the worst so far. Hope lies on the horizon, and the horizon lies about a 20 or 25 minute walk away at a fairy land I like to call “McDonalds.” There I sup upon the ambrosia that is their new sandwich: three beef patties on a sub roll with some orange dressing and a lot of cheese. On the way home I can pick up some donuts. Bliss. Hail Donut!

Hooray for Me

I just found a $5 bill in the pocket of a pair of pants I have not worn since coming to China because I didn't fit into them comfortably until recently. This Saturday has started off on a good foot.

Also, a good cup of coffee and a jelly donut while watchiing "House" is another wonderful way to start a Saturday.

Hail Donut!

Homesicky Halloween

Halloween approaches, and with that I'm quickly turning into my giddy self. I love Halloween, have for a long time. Horror movies are some of my favorite, the mythos of creepy creatures continually grabs my imagination, and candy! For this guy, Halloween gives one of the best parties and opportunities for fun out of the entire year. Forget New Years Eve, Halloween is where its at.

I've gone a bit overboard with Halloween celebrations in the past. 2004 gave a grotesque zombie, 2003 a wanna-be Venkmann complete with flashing proton pack. Every year gets more ludicrous, more ridiculous, more complicated, but at the same time more fun.

Now I'm in China, and I have to teach people about Halloween. Hard to do. But celebrating is even more difficult. The Chinese can't see the allure of the costume party or the scary movie. China has its own festivals honoring the dead, but these are more about "honoring" and less about having fun. And yes, Bill being Bill exascerbates the problem, as 9/10 costume ideas I have are lost on the common, non-Bill man.



This isn't to say that the Chinese are not without their costumes, as they have plenty of parades where dancers cavort in ye olde Chinese garb while on stilts, and each and every minority in the country distinguishes itself usually through their dress, but none of this is scary or even all that fun, as everyone does it anyways. Even on TV, I'm pretty sure more than half of the fictional programming revolves around costumes dramas. If I'm going to find any sort of get up this year, its gonna have to look like something out of an old kung fu movie.



Oh well. I've taken over our school's Halloween decorations and this week I'm going to the temple district to look for some more ideas on the costumes. Regardless, times like these are the ones that I'm really hurting for the West and everyone back home. Until then, I've invested in every worthwhile horror movie I've been able to get my hands on at the DVD market, so at least I'll have a rogues gallery of serial murderers, mutated freaks, zombies, and gothic ghouls to keep me happy this season.

Touching Lives (They Feel Sticky)

There are high points to teaching younger people. My favorite classes are my pre-teens and young teens, kids between maybe 10 and 14. These kids are old enough that they should be learning, old enough to understand my jokes, and old enough to feel embarrassed when I humiliate them. Case in point: I've got a class with three kids named Tom who all sit next to each other. Each time I want a Tom to answer a question I need to designate which Tom I'm asking, usually through a silly distinguishment such as "Tom with the black shoes" or "Old Tom." Regardless, the Toms never pay attention, so the other day I simply called on "Tom with the dirty underwear." One of the Toms began to answer the question, all the other students laughed at him, and he paid attention for the rest of class.

But there are instances where the power trip of teaching gets a little ridiculous. Well, I'm going to assume this doesnt happen too often in "real" schools in "real" countries. I walked into a class the other day wearing my glasses as I was tired. Usually, when I'm tired, I find it linked to myeyes so I like to give them a rest from the contacts. Anywho, I walked into this class donning my specs for the first time towards the pleasure of those students. The girls erupted and for the next 5-10 minutes the entire class debated whether I was better looking with or without my glasses. In the end, a vote was held and the class was split, however they all agreed that teacher (me) is very very handsome both with glasses and without. Then some of the girls gave me candy and we finally began the lesson.

Now, I can't blame the girls, cuz, hey, look at the pictures.



Now and then I get similar reactions from other Chinese, not just my students, not just little girls. I jumped in a cab the other day and the driver claimed to recognize me. Attempting to brush him off (I was very much not-sober), he kept persisting and began to tell stories about me that no random Chinese would know unless I had actually had a conversation with them. He then brushed aside an RMB off the fare as I didnt have exact change, proving that this guy actually met me and actually considered me a friend of sorts.

I've learned a lot here in China since February, some lessons through trials by fire, some unwarranted, so flat out unwanted; but now and then things like these happen that keep me going.

Mmm... Reckless Abandon

I've been awarded access to my own blog from the PRC, which now allows me to fool around with all the options and capabilities of the Blogger system. Expect to see some changes around here in the coming posts. Certainly, you'll see more pictures as I am no longer limited to the amount of memory dictated by my second-party posting service.



More than anything, this means more visual stimuli accompanying my narratives. As a picture is apparently worth so many words, I'm hoping this allows the few readers left to visualize exactly what I'm in the middle of here in China. But then, as I am no longer limited towards memory, I no longer have to carefully select the pictures that will be posted here. I've been giving a pass to reckless posting. So I can now fill up this blog with random pictures of my fellow staff, or silly translations I've found around China, or any interesting ice-carved store I might pass in Harbin.



But what I'm most excited about is that I have found a store that actually sells donuts. Real American donuts. Well, Chinese made, but we're talking in ways that would make them donuts of the American school, not the bland or tough Chinese donuts. Not the bean-filled donut, nor the steamed donut. No, real donut. I'm excited. I bought two jelly-filled donuts yesterday, and one went incredibly with a cup of French-pressed Yun Nan coffee this morning. I predict a happy future together, me and my new donut-supplier.

In the meantime, Hail Donut!

Epilogue: A Few Last Words and Pictures

I've been back in Harbin almost two weeks now and most things are back to how they always are. This vacation was different from the last, but still very enjoyable. It certainly brought a handful of new experiences and a table full of junk.



There have been a few good stories since I've returned, and I'll try to catch you readers up on the best of them. Before that, however, you might have noticed a format change here at Immigrant Songs. Yes, the PRC has uncensored the "blogspot" domain, which means I can now not only post directly to my own blog but also view it! It also means I can catch up on the lives of other bloggers like Angus Dwyer, Pat Byrnett, Dave Rice, Connie Chilton, and my own sister. Hooray.

But before I do close the book on this vacation, a few last pics with immediate descriptions for your education/enjoyment.



This is your author outside that massive cave at Jiu Xiang, read about it in Chapter 1!



Minority costuming by the reflection of the Three Pagodas in Dali.






And finally, some shots from around Li Jiang.

Hope you enjoyed the travelogue, I'll be back to the usual ramblings after I go get a new key made for my front door. Mine broke again. This is a regular occurence, yes.

Chapter the Sixth: In Which Our Hero Finally Gets Some Personal Time and Maybe Dysentery

Waking up before the dawn as the train pulled into KunMing, sure enough, I was quite tired. As the masses greeted us on the platform, our large tour group from Dali and LiJiang splintered, and once again I found myself alone with the two Harbiners.

We found our old KunMing tourguide and cabbed back to the same hotel as before. However, as reservations hold no weight in China, no rooms were prepared when we arrived thereby leading to a three hour wait in the lobby. I was tired as sin, and if I sat down my head would fall into sleep every few minutes. When I was sneaking zzz's, I took the time to memorize every facet of their scale model of the "Golden Hind."

Eventually I got my room, and with it a nap, bath, and some English-speaking TV. This was also the time when el stomacho started feeling a bit en fuego. I'll spare the details, but it became obvious that any plans for that day had to keep me in the city so my private, sanitary Western toliet would always be within a 10 minute cab ride. These are issues that become common worries for some in China. My time was now. Luckily, KunMing had enough within a couple of klicks to peak my interest.



Walking out of the lobby I first headed to the West Pagoda, another example of Tang Dynasty architecture. What might have been a frolicking little public square amidst a local historic site now seemed like a chaep children's park and nut market. Either way, it still stood better than the local mosque, which had been reduced to a parking lot.

Two or so blocks from the rubbled mosque I stumbled into the Muslim Quarter, and from the looks of things I couldn't help but imagine that the KunMing Civil Authority was trying to push out the local Muslims. The entire area was fenced in by construction sites and dumping areas, certainly not a great local for living or marketeering. I did, however, fall prey to a determined restauranteaur and lunched on some sort of lamb soup pizza deal. It was delicious, but the simple act of eating seemed to be allegorical for reloaded the cannon that had become my stomach, so I couldn't satisfy my full hunger.

Out of the Muslim quarter I made my way to the Provincial Museum and strolled through a photography exhibit celebrating Kun Ming, another on bronze drums, and finally a hall dedicated to Buddhist art. I find Buddhist art fascinating but I consider my understanding to be lacking, and as such I promised myself to search out some readings to illuminate my ignorance.



On the Buddhist kick, I wanted to be sure to make it to TianTong Temple, the local landmark, before it closed for the day. I hustled through the "Flower and Bird Market" (devoid of both flowers and birds) then up and over a hill to the front gate. The inside was quite peaceful and a wonderful example of the standard Buddhist temple. The mass of turtles in the moat captured the most of my attention because, hey, turtles.

From the temple I wandered to a nearby park built around 5 small lagoons but it soon became apparent that I wouldn't be enjoying myself here do the pressure of the mass crowds and the pressure building in my gut. So the day of adventure ended early, but the evening of... err... expulsion was just beginning.

The next morning I felt totally empty and spent, but in a good way. Fearful of all Chinese food on this last full day of my vacation, I made a plan only to dine at some Western restaurants I had found the day before. Breakfast thereby awarded eggs over easy, toast, coffee, and oh-so-delicious hashbrowns.

Americans: don't take your hashbrowns for granted. Cherish them every day, every bite, as if it were the last.

Gastronomically content, the day's first stop was The Bamboo Temple a few klicks out of the town. This temple, while in and of itself not exceptionally special, does house 500 arhat or luohan statues, each different. These are the disciples of Buddha, and each one was so realistically represented doing something, at times, exceptionally surreal that I spent an hour or two taking them in.



From the Bamboo Temple I made my way to Long Men, or "Dragon Gate." Built into the side of Xi Shan, the mountain that rims Dian Chi, the green lake I had boated upon a few days earlier, Long Men consists of a series of grottoes carved from the bare rock by monks. The paths were quite narrow at spots, and the crowds large (esepcially at the required picture points) but it was another site of the sort I had never seen, thereby making it an interesting experience.



Getting back down the mountain I took the path less traveled which smacked me into a little village amidst a monster bridge construction engineering project. Hoping from point to point in the deep mud that appeared to have a rock large enough to balance upon I eventually made my way to lakeside and crossed to the opposite side via a man-made dirt bridge. A walk through a park and I headed back to town, strolled through the major venues one last time (and happened upon a book in English on Buddhist art and temples!) I eventually settled in an Italian restaurant for dinner before going back to the room.

The vacation was, aside from the 5 AM wakeup call and flight home, over.

Chapter the Fifth: In Which Our Hero Finds Harmony and More Yak in Shangri-La

Another early morning, another lackluster Chinese breakfast, and another bus ride took us to "MaoNiuPing," which translates into "Yak Plateau." Approaching the destination certainly gave the idea of a plateau, but not so much yaks. However, it wasn't until we actually disembarked from our own mechanical steed that I began to understand what was happening.

We were ascending a mountain, and a rather tall one, as I couldn't see the summit hidden behind the mass of clouds. We weren't going to hike it, that was for sure, as few of my fellow travelers were in shape for such a task, instead we took a luxurious ride into the clouds via chair lift.



The ride lasted about 25 minutes and chilled me to the bone. I wasn't prepared to gallavant around a mountaintop that day, let alone take a walk in the clouds, so all I had on was a t-shirt and my hoodie. Oh well. Live and learn: Don't go to Yak Plateau without the proper gear.

When we got to the top and hopped off the lift, a convenient boardwalk led us towards the village, but not without the requisite yak photo op. I take no shame in exploiting yaks for my own silliness.



I let this yak know I had eaten his little brother for dinner the night before, he responded with a horn thrust to my chest. I guess thats what I deserve for... wait for it... YAKKING OFF! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh Sweet Lord.

Anyways, from the yak we followed the boardwalk into the village, still raised off the muddy cloud-laden dirt floor of Yak Plateau. I didn't spend too much time purusing the wares, though I did snag a horrendously ugly yak skull pendant as a souveneir for someone who will appreciate a good yak skull pendant.

At this point I lost track of time and assumed I only had 20 minutes left to circle Yak Plateau when I actually had an hour and twenty minutes. Oh well. Soon enough I found a Tibetan style temple where the locals corrected my entrance in that one should enter a Tibetan temple on the right side while spinning the prayer bells and exit on the opposite side. Silly me.



Shortly after the temple I ran into Crazy Purple, who's real name I can not recall at this moment but who is certainly crazy, but in a good hyperactively friendly way. She basically took charge and led me the rest of the way through Yak Plateau, forcing me to wear the silly costumes for a picture (see previous posts) and then buying my food back at the village. She even paid a little girl to sing for me, and I thought at first the little girl was singing some traditional minority song until I listened close and realized she was simply saying "Mao is good, Mao is great, Mao is the best thing ever" over and over again. And, yes, for those of you paying attention, she was singing about the Chairman Mao, not the Yak "mao." They sound the same, but they are different. Stupid Chinese language. Argh.



Anyways, as I sat and warmed myself over some hot yak milk mixed with tea and chewed on yak-kabobs, I learned that Yak Plateau is apparently a supposed site of the legendary culture of Shangri-La. Now, I'm sure many spots in Northern YunNan and Western Tibet claim this distinction, but I don't really care for two good reasons: 1. I understand Shangri-La to be a legendary city, as in not real, like Atlantis or Seattle. 2. Who cares?! I just want to say I've been to Shangri-La! Can you say that, heh? Can you?

Eventually we had to leave the Yak Plateau and all of its cloudy yakness and yaknicity. Swerving back down the perilous mountain rode to head back to LiJiang (Dad, the roads to Dingle have nothing on what I saw during this trip) we took a quick stop by a river that was surprisingly clear/green. Most everyone washed their faces, some people jumped at their last chance to yak it up all yak style.




Soon enough we had returned to LiJiang proper, eaten lunch, and were on our way back to DaLi to catch our train. On the way I did give into an impulse buy and picked up a nice cheap jade Chinese Chess set. My companions bugged out when they saw this, as none could believe that I knew how to play Chinese Chess. This immediately led to the retelling of the same story 14 times, reading the piece names out over and over again, and reciting the idioms I know regarding the game. Fine enough, as when we did get back to DaLi we had to kill 2 hours our so. Thanks to the commotion with the chess set, I had Chinese lined up to take me on. I can not say I am good at Chinese Chess, but I won a single game, and upon that stroke of luck Crazy Purple's (who I had been playing against) father practically disowned her for losing to a foreigner. Haha!

But again the night brought a sleeper train back to KunMing. I loaded up on beer before boarding in a hope to pass out, perhaps to some Bon Jovi (sophomore year reference), all the way to KunMing. I had two days left and had no idea what was in store, so I wanted to have plenty of energy just in case.

Chapter the Fourth: In Which Our Hero Gets Lost Repeatedly And Eats Yak

View From A Tea House
Originally uploaded by billmcgonigle.

The bus left from DaLi early in the morning, but that was fine by Yours Truly as I was itching to get to LiJiang. The ride took a handful of hours, and we made two requisite shopping stops (to my chagrin), but I'll admit the second at least had an interesting story behind it. We stopped at a complex at the foot of a mountain where our guide related the history of a fruitful silver mine that the French, British, and Germans had long battled over during the time of Foreign Aggression in China. In memory of the senseless and seemingly unending bloodshed, the precious material harvested from this mine is now known as "Blood Silver" in China.

Quite a tale, especially as I was working my way through Conrad's "Nostromo" at the time and imagining the troubles of the fictional San Tome mine while actually visiting a Chinese, factual equivalent.

Anyways, we got to LiJiang and checked into a nice courtyard style hotel. LiJiang in pretty far north and west into YunNan, but more north than west, and you can view the Tibetan border from certain spots in town. The local minority are called the "NaXi." and compared to DaLi, they had fully grasped their tourism capability but kept their local culture from becoming too Disney-fied, as some could say DaLi has.

Our tour guide for LiJiang didn't do too much other than lead us to the Old Town, give a very quick tour, and then simply let us free. Probably for the best, as the Old Town in LiJiang is a warren of markets, tea shops, bars, eateries, and craftsmen.

I hadn't purchased much up to this point on the trip, as I expected LiJiang would provide my treasure trove. Sure enough, it did. I spent 4 hours or so wandering around, often getting lost, then lost again, and then when I reoriented myself, I got lost again. None of the roads here are straight, all are small with numerous alleys shooting off in different directions, and sometimes, yes, all things in China might look the same to a foreigner. Regardless, I got some shopping in and got gifts for a lucky few and a shirt for myself.

The atmosphere of the day was what made it so fascinating. LiJiang was one of the best steps back into Ye Merry Olde China that I've been pricy to in my travels. QuFu had some good bits, DaLi we didnt get enough time to really experience, Beijing, Shanghai, QingDao, and Harbin are all far too modernized to capture this ambiance. But LiJiang jumped from the pages of history and kungfu movies and I loved it.

After bringing my newly purchased wares back to the hotel, I proceeded to get lost again while looking for dinner. (I took a picture of a map if you want to see what I was dealing with, all the pics are available here: http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AaMm7ds5bNWJo so get over and see for yourself.) I had to make a show at 8, so I eventually threw in the towel and sat down by one of the numerous streams running through town and grabbed an overpriced dinner.

As one who enjoys experimenting with all sorts of food, I found it hard to resist the yak plate. Yak is a bit tough, but you cant say it lacks flavor, thats for sure. I also had some fried goat cheese and a baba, which is sort of a local pancake/pie thing with some sweety filling. Already having shelled out more than I wanted to for this grub, I initially steered clear of their expensive beer prices, but after a cheap cup of wonderful coffee I realized I needed something cool to wash down the yak. All in all, a decent meal, and certain different.

The rushed dinner was necessary as I had purchased primo seats to a concert that evening put on by the Naxi Orchestra, a band of 24 who are able to create the most faithful renderings of true Chinese traditional music. Their instruments had been marked for destruction by the Red Guards during the Cultural Revolution, but they had buried their centuries-old pipas, erhus, gongs and etc to reform in the late 80's under a man named Xuan Ke.

The music was enthralling, and Xuan Ke gave an introduction and explanation to each in both Chinese and English. He made some jokes about foreigners to the Chinese, which led to another one of those "a foreigner who speaks Chinese!" conversations with my neighbors, plus I got to call Xuan Ke out on his transgression after the show when I chased him down to chat. Amazing man. All I gotta say.

After the show, yet another long day drew to a close. I was unclear towards what we were doing the following day, but I knew it had to end on a sleeper train departing from DaLi for KunMing. So, I slept.

Chapter the Third: In Which Our Hero Denies the Chinese of His Humiliation and Takes in a Crazy Tea Dance

1, 2, 3 Pagodas! Bwah ha ha!
Originally uploaded by billmcgonigle.

Waking up on a train, well, at least a sleeper train in China, falls far from the most relzxing morning one might imagine. Thus was the case upon pulling into the DaLi train station shortly after sunup. Once the locomotive reached a full and complete stop, the crowds herded out to find their local tour guide.

Immediately exiting the train station I found two long lines of Chinese adorned in the local minority garb of the "Bai" people. How cute, thought I, a welcoming committee to introduce us to their strange and savage ways. Nope. Just all the tour guides liined up looking for their fares. Turns out almost everyone in DaLi finds soome connection to the tourism biz, and the tourism biz is all about being the minority and wearing the dress.

And so we found our guide, our bus, and then yet another joyous Chinese breakfast. But no time to relax, as we had a schedule to keep!

First off was the Old City of DaLi. Well, at least one street worth of it. We only had about 30 minutes to poke around this area, frustrating to yours truly as this would be the most interesting stop of the day, and the briefest. Luckily, my craving for Ye Olde China would meet satisfaction in LiJiang, but on this day it was one street, a pagoda, some animal statues, and not even enough time to check out the market before we had to head out.

Stop number 2: a granite/marble emporeum. Yippee. I've mentioned this before, I'll mention it again: the Chinese love rocks. Absolutely love them. I don't get it.

Stop number 3: Something cultural! The 3 Pagodas, some of the oldest still standing structures in YunNan. I'm no specialist on backhouses (only the Donald could be), but apparently these are prime examples of Tang Dynasty architecture. I was more caught by the reflecting pool behind two of the towers and the subsequent GuanYin (one of the thousand Chinese Buddhas) temple behind it all. So enthralled that I was late and the last back to the bus, prompting screams of "sing a song!"

But no! Haha, silly Chinese! Anyone who knows knows that I will not sing under any pressure that does not directly affect the physiochemistry of my brain organ! (Unless on an ESCAPE venture, but thats besides the point.) My fellow tourists frowned that I would not provide the embarrassing serenade, but then one guy realized, and thusly screamed out for all to hear: "This foreigner speaks Chinese!" Yes, I do, and yes, this continues to surprise Chinese after Chinese, and yes, I still enjoy that surprise.

After the pagodas, which were the second largest element to DaLi tourism after the minority deal, we grabbed a quick lunch at the local bong market (no joke, see the pictures at http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AaMm7ds5bNWJo when you got time to kill at work) and then hit a jade market before going to Butterfly Park.

Butterfly Park was totally lame, especially as I got duped into paying 10 RMB for a tram ride that only lasted about 100 yards. Now, there was an interesting song and dance thing going on, but most people were busy hanging cloth hearts on trees, trying on costumes, and gorging on pomegranate. I just hurried through the entire scene, stopping only to watch the real minority slave-laboring over crappy tourist merchandise and then to watch a sheep lick a man's crotch for longer than I found comfortable. I tried to get a picture of the would-be Chinese Scott Tennerman, but he deftly parried my camera and the shot was lost to all but my memory.

The last scheduled activity of the day centered around a cruise of ErHaiHu, or "Ear Lake." Every tourist in driving distance must have shown up, as the endless crowds took 30 minutes to load the boat. Once we set off, the cruise it self was pleasant, and I scrounged some hot coffee to keep my dozy head awake.

Eventually we got to a small island or jetty or whathaveyou, where a giant statue of GuanYin (that Buddha again) rested at the peak. We only had 25 minutes on the island, which lead to a hysterical scene of watching over a thousand Chinese pour off a boat, sprint around an island, and then attempt to get back on the boat in a rational manner.

I got back on a bit early and found a comfortable seat for the "3 Ways of Tea" show that was included in my ticket. Supposedly some sort of traditional tea ceremony including traditional dress, traditional music, and traditional dance; the first two characters appeared wearing traditional sunglasses and traditional fake moustaches. Whoever they were, they were totally apeshit about tea, as all they did for 5 minutes was scream "We love tea" while galavanting around the room and dry humping two stalks from a traditional plastic tea plant. I have not seen my friend Max Sung in years, but if he is lost somewhere in this world, I'd have no trouble believing he was one of these tea dogs.

The following dances were fun enough, actually quite entertaining, though at times a bit hokey. The accompanying tea was also pleasant. Soon enough I returned to the deck, kept watching water, and would eventually make it back to port.

Back on the bus, dinner, problems with the hotel and my room (I paid extra to have a private room each night) bt eventually settled in. The tour guide was worried I couldn't understand her last bit as we checked into the hotel, but I understood her, though I didnt. She kept screaming "Beware the broken cups! Be careful of the broken cups!" but I tried to simply shrug her off as I was certainly too tired to fear any sort of ceramic. Regardless, she sent the Americanized Chinese to explain to me the full meaning of her forewarning. I got to talking with this new friend and soon enough we were walking around with her parents trying to find a supermarket, as the hotel didnt have toothbrushes or toothpaste (standard in China, I forget back home) and I just wanted to stretch my legs before sleeping. I did get some iced coffee for the morning, as we were heading to LiJiang, the spot I was most excited for. And with that, I went to sleep.

Chapter the Second: In Which Our Hero Loses His Sanity and Purchases Traditional Chinese Medicine

It's a giant coin of pressed tea. Really.
Originally uploaded by billmcgonigle.

After the first full day of JiuXiang and ShiLin, this vacation appeared to be shaping up quite well. But every silver lining has a cloud, and sure enough this second full day would be a bit overcast.

We woke up a few hours south of KunMing, and as such I expected we'd simply barrel back to town and see the sights closer to the capital. After another wonderful Chinese breakfast it was back in the minivan and to...

The first of many 'wholesalers' that we'd visit that day. Turns out that most Chinese tour guides get money on the side by bringing in customers to these huge and out-of-the-way stores where the tourists might purchased discounted items.

Now, this is fine by me, for a while at least. I appreciate discounted prices, I appreciate not having to worry about fake or shoddy mercahndise, and I hope those who receive them appreciate their gifts. But I can only take so much shopping, especially, well, I'll get to that.

The first store was a gemstone hut. Necklaces, bracelets, trees, fountains, all sorts of knick knacks crafted from semi-precious stones. A few pieces were quite elegant, a lot was gaudy, and even more all looked like the same ubiquitous Chinese junk to me.

THe second store was a tea emporium. This, at least, included a seminar on tea and free samples, which was refreshing. We tasted three varieties of tea: a ginseng tea, a slightly sweet green tea, and the legendary pu'er tea. Pu'er tea is the fabled tea of European galley's and China's initial opening. This is the tea that swept Britain and turned all those limeys into tea-swilling limeys. I tried some, it was ok, but nothing special in the post-Lipton world. What was interesting in the packaging, as pu'er tea is often dried and compressed into giant coins or pancakes. I picked up a small tin of that sweet tea and then hopped in the van assuming it was time to take off. But no.

We went to a perfume store. Then we went to a word carving store. Then another stone emporium. Then a medicine store. By this point, I was so bored that I actually bought some Chinese herbal medicine. Haven't worked up the nerve to try it yet though.

At some point while the Chinese mom was perusing the same freaking perfume samples for the 5th time over, I walked up into a park built into the little tourist-trapping shopping area. Upon ascending the small hill, taking in the rundown temple, walking through a "Christmas Tree Forest" devoid of any sort of fir, and then watching a man-made river run dry I realized just how much of a tourist trap this truly was, a locale of Griswoldian proportions. Thank god we had to leave eventually.

We got back to KunMing by mid-afternoon. The first stop back here was Lake Dian (Dian Chi) which has got to be the greenest water I have ever seen. There was so much life in those waves that it seemed impossible for anyone's sight to penetrate the surface. The lake is framed by West Mountain, (XiShan), which provided a provocative backdrop as we sped around the lake on a little motorboat. I'd be coming back to West Mountain at the end of my trip, this first introduction was brief, but it was obvious the Chinese Mom wouldn't have anything to do with ascending the geological beaut.

So instead we drove to the front gates of the Minority Village, KunMing's version of Epcot Center, but without Figment the Dragon. We didn't go in, but only stopped long enough to snap a pic next to the topiary sign.

Same deal at the Botanical Expo, but no loss, as I only find flowers interesting when I'm at the bottom of the boredom barrel.

Lucky for us, there was still more shopping in store for us on this day of days! We hit another jade market followed by a flower and foodstuff market. The jade skipped my interest but I picked up some YunNan coffee at the flower market, plus some candy. I don't know what this candy is made out of, but its got an interestingly good taste. No one has been able to give me any helpful English on the subject, so I'm going to send a box to my father and let him experiment and name the flavor.

Dinner brought "Across the Bridge Noodles," a local speciality that really wasn't anything more than noodles, but you put the noodles in the water as opposed to putting water in the noodles! See the difference? I could taste it. Well, not really.

Finally, after all the non-shopping was completed, we had to wait in the train station for 2 hours or so until our sleeper train left. I'd be waking up in Dali, where our group would swell from 3 to 20+, our bus would get longer, and if we were lucky, we'd have more opportunities to purchase junk!

Chapter the First: In Which Our Hero's Elbows are Assaulted and He Sees Many Interesting Rock Formations

Gorging in JiuXiang
Originally uploaded by billmcgonigle.

The flight from Harbin to KunMing (capital of YunNan) left at 6 PM, but I had to show to meet a tour guide at the airport at 430. This was easy enough, and I met my first two companions as I got my ticket. The frustrating bit, and one that would persist throughout this entire adventure, was that no one knew when the return flight would be. Apparently flight schedules are unknown until the day of the flight. As such, I couldn't tell my driver (another of those police escorts I am so luckily privy to) when I'd need to be picked up 9 days hence.

Getting on the plane, which would arrive in KunMind around midnight, I was disappointed to find myself seated in an aisle seat. Now, I've been losing weight (I've been forced to buy new pants lately) but I'm still a wide guy. Certainly, at the least, we can say I've got some broad shoulders, especially for China. This meant that no matter how I positioned myself during the flight, my right arm would either find itself snuggling up with my neighbor or my left arm would be dangling about the aisle getting smacked by drink carts, little kids, or lord knows what.

We did have a layover of about 20 minutes in Chongqing, which was enough for me as immediately after disembarking the plane the humidity in Chingqing forced a mighty sweat to break out. I don't like to sweat.

Finally we arrived in KunMing, where our KunMing tour guide met the three of us and we sped off to a nearby hotel. Being late, being tired, and being that tomorrow we had to hit the road at an early hour, I simply crashed after watching some English-speaking Chinese TV. We don't get English-speaking Chinese TV in Harbin, so this is a treat for yours truly.

The first full day began with the traditional Chinese breakfast (noodles, rice porridge, steamed buns, hard boiled eggs, etc) which keeps your hunger away but leaves your taste buds wanting. After that, we jumped in our minibus and headed south.

The YunNan countryside is about as violent and unpredictable as any I've ever seen. The mountains erupt out of no where, leaving the locals with very little arable land with which to tend their crops. But they make use of every square inch, as you can see corn or rice or whathaveyou sprouting from every square inch possible.

Aside from the agriculture, I also spotted some of these Mao-era factories that I've read (and written) so much about. Two hour south of KunMing, on a barely functional dirt road, with little access to/from anywhere, we just kinda stumbled upon a huge factory churning out some sort of product, but certainly a lot of smoke. There was no reason for this monument to manufacturing to be here of all places, except maybe that the land was cheap, but it stood in direct repose to the "Location, location, location" mantra so often muttered by sensible businessmen. Oh well. China.

Our destination that morning was JiuXiang, a spot towards which I knew absolutely nothing. It wasnt even in my Lonely Planet, so I was skeptical. After getting our ticket, and still trying to understand where I was (I was really really really confused at this point) we took an elevator down into the rock face. When the doors reopened, we were by a river at the bottom of a narrow gorge and being led towards low slung rowboats. My sense of adventure peaked.

The boats took us along the river through the Gorge which was awesome in the true sense of the word. I love boats, I love mountains, I love exploring, this morning all three collided with a big grin on my stupid face. Check the pics for some interesting views.

When the river got too rough for row boats, we disembarked and made our way down a railed-in path on the side of the gorge. This eventually led into a gaping maw of a cave entrance. The inside, though very interesting and quite cool, was a bit overlit with silly colored lights that gave our hero the impression of a very special episode of "Punky Brewster" more than anything else.

But the cave was huge, in that in itself gave it creedance. After exiting, we circled around inside a second cavern that contained an abundance of stalagtites and stalagmites (which I learned how to say in Chinese), many of which looked like "An Immortal Resting After Too Much Liquor" or "Three Silkworks Reaching For Heaven" or "A Fish Hanging From the Ceiling."

After leaving the Fairy Cave of Natural Rock Art we needed to descend even lower before entering our final cavern Here the river was at its wildest, and understandable so, as immediately after entering this last cave the river turned into two 90 ft waterfalls named, so cutley, "The Male and Female Waterfalls." Tough to get a picture, as the spray in the air distorted any attempt, but wonderous regardless. From there we made out way down some limestone step-pools to the bottom of this massive cave where... I found...

"The Bat Cave." See the pictures, you'll understand. Mr. Wayne, however, might not.

Anyways, we eventually got back to daylight and back to the bus, grabbed lunch, and then made our way to ShiLin, or "Stone Forest."

My understanding of ShiLin before leaving Harbin was that of a petrified forest. Wrong. Apparently, thousands of years ago, a sea stood where ShiLin now stands, and upon the disappearance of all that water we were left with a small valley of crazy limestone monoliths. One looked like a girl of the regional minority wearing her traditional head dress. Another looked like an elephant. Once cluster like swords rising up out of a shallow pool. Interesting enough, but after the JiuXiang experience not the highlight of the day.

One group, however, was layered in such a way that, in addition with the dark rain cloads rolling in behind it, looked like a the dark fortress of some evil fantasy baddie. That was cool.

But the best was some rock where you're supposed to test your neck (I dont know, I asked, I read, but I still don't understand the attraction to "testing your neck") by slipping through a small crevice. Most every Chinese tried, many failed, and I simply sat and laughed at one pathetic attempt after another. I did not try myself, as I knew my wrestler's neck wouldn't make the cut.

We got back to our hotel (we stayed out in the country by ShiLin that night) around 7 and I got back to my room a little after 8. The town we were in qualified as a one-horse stand, so I just did some reading until I fell asleep. Not quite as easy as I'd hope, as my window overlooked a karaoke parlor, but Conrad's "Nostromo" is quite the political fable, so harm, no foul.

An Introduction to the Latest Adventure

Taking the Yak by His Horns
Originally uploaded by billmcgonigle.

(All pictures are now available for viewing at: http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AaMm7ds5bNWJo )

For some reason, which makes sense but only in China, the weekdays after the national vacation are reorganized, which has left me more confused than usual and slow on the report of my vacation. I apologize.

Regardless, the yarn starts now. Why did I go to YunNan? Well, its almost as far away from Harbin as you can get and yet still be in the PRC. It was not my first choice, as I really wanted to tour Tibet, but that would require too much time and too much cash. Second on the list was to take a boat down the ChangJiang (Yangze River) through the Three Gorges and to the dam, but that plan fell to the wayside as all possible tour groups were booked by the time I knew my own schedule. YunNan, my third choice, became the destination.

I'd be gone from Harbin for 9 days, almost twice as long as everyone else simply got off for vacation. My contract promises "week-long" vacations, but our boss tried to pass off 5 days as a week. Having my desire to travel, I argued for my due vacation, and got it. Thanks to my existing class schedule, it was easy to lengthen the break to a full 10 days. And it was off to YunNan.

As mentioned, I traveled with a tour group even though this practice is against my prediliction towards protcting my personal independence in traveling. However, my predilicition towards saving a buck was stronger in this case, and a tour group it was.

During the first two or so days, the group was very small, only myself and a mother/son combo from Harbin. This was fine for the most part, at least until we got to shopping time, in which case the mother co-opted most of the time to satisfy her own bargain hunting desires. Argh. This drove me crazy.

Three in the group seemed perfect, and I was hoping we'd stay as small, but as I headed north we picked up more and more fellow tourists. While I was not thrilled at first, worrying that this would only result in more time waiting for other people to conclude their shopping, it actually turned out to be great.

One of the new additions was a Chinese who has been living in San Diego for 5 years. Her English being fluent, and her ideals now being closer to American than Chinese in certain regards, it offered a breath of fresh air, convenience, and good ol' American sense amidst the tide of Chinese tourists.

A few of the other travellers were also quite friendly. There were some Mongorians, a mother & daughter from HeiLongJiang (my home state in China), some dude whose eyes seemed as though they'd pop from his sockets at a moment's notice, a young woman who danced and jumped more than she walked, and then a few fatherly gentlemen who took simple interest in the sole foreigner on the trip.

While I didn't make much effort to reach out to any of these people, many of them became good friends for the trip. Many forced fruits or drinks down my mouth non-stop, which resulted (perhaps) in a mild case of dysentery or another strain of food poisoning. Regardless, thanks to them I ate more pomegranate than I ever had before. This was, of course, easy to do as I've never even seen a pomegranate before. This also lead to my poor translation of the Greek myth of Demeter, Hades, and Persephone on countless occasions.

The tour itself was spectacular, as YunNan's landscape varies more than any other province in China. The northern mountains were my favorite, but that be because I'm attracted to mountains and repulsed by crowds. Luckily, as I began my vacation earlier than the national holiday properly began, we didn't have to deal with many crowds.

The merchandise, for the first time in China, really caught my interest as well. I havent bought much for myself (outside the essentials and tech crap) nor for other people as so much I find can be purchased, with greater quality, back in the West. Otherwise, and this occurs more often than not, I can only imagine a Westener judging the average Chinese gift as being tacky. But as I bounded from town to town and met one or another ethnic minority, I found more and more items that were truly unique to the region and were of good enough quality to be worth the purchase. Which is not to say I loaded up on gifts, but I did come home with a bag full of jade, gems, silver, coffee, tea, wood carvings, silks, wools, dolls, and other valuables.

Enough introduction. Let the tale begin.

Annnd... He's Safe!

MengWeiLi, Chieftan of the Yak Plateau
Originally uploaded by billmcgonigle.

Back home after the YunNan tour. Excellent time. I descended a gorge, haggled for Burmese jade, rode a yak, at a yak, and made a number of new Chinese friends. I took a ridiculous number of pictures (280+) so I need to organize the good from the bad before I get them online. Also, in the great Chinese way, Thursday is Saturday and Friday is Sunday so I am not going to have time to do anything productice till the real Saturday aka 2 days from now. So hold onto your dragons, tales from the Travelling Bill Shenanigans Show will be along shortly.

I also drank yak milk. I love dairy.