Hot!

And steamy. I've traded sagebrush and cool temperatures for palm trees and 200% humidity.

Had another very productive meeting yesterday, and was treated to a fancy hotel buffet for lunch (the tongue was bland, but the pork excellent).

Hefei might be even less of a tourist town than Lanzhou. I had a good walk around last night, including a few blocks of pedestrian mall. I was attracted to the al fresco fried chicken, but went inside to enjoy some air conditioning (and wound up eating at a chain that I had been to in Beijing). I'm still a little bashful about dinner alone in the sit-down restaurants. In Lanzhou, I tried again, but they made me share a table with another solo diner, and wouldn't let me look at a menu. My choices were a 5RMB bowl of soup or a 3.5RMB bowl of soup. I had the smaller bowl.

Over the past few days I've noticed something that I've never seen before. It happened on campus in Lanzhou, and now three times in Hefei. I've seen arguments in a lot of places, but these have a level of physicality to them that is a bit disturbing. I'm talking about slaps upside the head, pulling of arms when a person attempts to walk away, arm twisting, and pinching. It's really disturbing to watch, and until last night I thought it was male-on-female violence, but last night I saw a woman doing it to a young man as a policeman was leading him away. I think it was his mother, but I'm lousy at judging ages.

When I first saw this in Lanzhou, I had to stop and see what other folks were doing. Many passersby would just avert their eyes, but enough stopped and watched that I got the impression it's not allowed to get out of hand. And with the cop yesterday, people just seemed amused by the abuse that this woman was heaping on the guy. The cop was trying to maintain control, but eventually he had to shove the mother away a bit. The regular police here are completely unarmed: no guns, no sticks, no handcuffs. Not even pepper spray.

Come to think of it, they don't wear uniform shoes either. Yesterday I saw a lady directing traffic in high heels. I also saw man with a monkey. But that's another story.

Answers to questions.

On the monastery: Just to be clear, the photo of me in front of a sculpture is in a gallery where everything is made out of yak butter. It's heavily air conditioned, and each new year the monks make new ones. They say that in the old days the sculptures would melt as the year went on, but now they can keep them pretty well.

On the Fat Little Sheep: a commenter said in Chinese: Fat Little Sheep are everywhere. The owner is very rich.

On presents: I got a teapot and tea from Gu (and a big bag of snacks for the train that took me several days to finish. I think I still have a mooncake in my backpack). From 刘芳 I got a jade bracelet.

On violinists: 'Had breakfast with' means that the two sisters were at the next table and struck up a conversation. For those of you who haven't known me for 20 years: the spring and summer of my high school graduation was spent as an Andy Frain usher at Orchestra Hall and Comiskey Park. I think I was the only usher under 50 who was actually into the music. When the CSO went on summer hiatus, I moved to the airport and worked security (early evidence of a lack of aviation safety in America). So the 'it's a small world' header on that article required a bit of insider information as our connection went beyond just being visiting Chicagoans. There is also the oddity of meeting world-class musicians who grew up near Lanzhou. (And actually, now that I look at their bios more carefully, they grew up elsewhere in China--but their not Beijing or Shanghai girls.) Undeveloped country my foot.

On results: yes, I am getting results from my library visits, but I haven't been writing much on the other blog. I don't have anything very formal to say, and I can't really post my field notes. My conversations with the librarians have been very productive, and I think that I can actually do the project I've been talking about for 18 months now.

And a question that still rattles around my own skull: What is the name of the festival that took place in Lanzhou Monday night? I saw many people burning paper money and baijiu in the street. Some folks also left incense and fruit. I know it's a commemoration of the dead, but what was the name of the day? At first I thought it was in one specific location, but as the evening went on, I saw it in a whole bunch of places.

Enforced sit down.

I left out all sorts of detail about Xi'an and Lanzhou because I spent so much time telling the story of Xia He. Now I have plenty of time to bring my three loyal readers up to date because I have a 10 hour layover in the Shanghai airport. No, not the fancy Pudong International with its sexy maglev train into the city, but the LaGuardia- and Midway- like city airport with its legendary hour-long taxi queue.

I told myself I would go into the city on two conditions: if the subway line here was complete and I could pre-check my bag (bags don't get automatically transfered between domestic flights here. At least not on the flight I was on.) Well, I was able to check the bag (as well as get a seat--no one ever taught me 'aisle or window' in Chinese), but the 地铁 is nowhere to be seen. Lonely Planet was a little vague on when the extension to the line would be completed.

I would gladly take the bus into town except (a) I only have the Lonely Planet map and (b) it's pouring rain. 下大雨。

On the plus side, even moreso than the aforementioned American airports, you can walk right out of the airport onto a city street. So, wi-fi enabled coffeeshop and iced latte in hand, I'm settled in for the long haul.

So, last week in Xi'an I had a great visit at the provincial library. The staff person, Deng Yuanyuan, who translated for me was great, and even invited me down to the employee's canteen for lunch. Then, to top it off, I got invited to dinner at Gu Xiujie's house. A homecooked meal! They insisted it was just simple everyday food, but I find it hard to believe that they make 8 course meals everyday. Fried chicken wings, fried fish fillets, sauteed green beans with pork, tofu, soup, boiled peanuts. There were a couple other things too--dang, I should have written it down sooner. Gu and family's hospitality really was over the top. I got presents!



So after dinner it was off to Lanzhou, which I've already talked about. What I only hinted at was that my appointment was up in the air when I arrived. I was pretty happy that it came through, but on the downside, they told me I'd better bring my own interpreter. I scrambled around on Sunday afternoon and Monday morning, and, to make a long story short, really lucked out. The Foreign Languages department at Lanzhou University connected me with an excellent student who went with me to the library, then introduced me to her boyfriend and we all spent the whole afternoon together. It was awesome! Hotpot for lunch (they attempted to pay) then the provincial museum.

Lunch was excellent. We were at a Mongolian chain called 小肥羊 (The little fat sheep or maybe just the fat lamb). We started with a mutton spine. 王 (the boyfriend) would pick the spinal cord out of his vertebra and give them to 刘, because she especially likes them. How romantic! And the provincial museum was really good: dinosaurs and Silk Road. A great combination.

It was a lot of fun, and I couldn't imagine a better random connection. They even gave me a present!

It's a small world...

Sing it with me everyone. I just had breakfast with sister violinists from the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.

夏河

I’m just back from a very interesting experience in a town called Xia He. I went without a computer, and things were so very different from anything I’ve experienced before, I decided early on just to write things down by hand and transcribe it when I got back to town. Well, I’m back in town. Here, as it happened, was my weekend. As always, you can click on the photo for a larger version. And there are many more photos in the gallery!

Near the beginning of the pilgrim circle.

It’s hard to take photos here because the people are pretty intensely involved in a religious act and I feel more than a little bit intrusive. Also, it’s not really a tourist site: the pilgrims outnumber the tourists probably 100:1.

The bus ride was a trip. I tried to wake naturally, so naturally I overslept and missed the direct bus. I had to switch in a Muslim town halfway along.

Oh, I’m getting funny looks from the pilgrims. (I think part of the point is not to stop) so I’ll be on my way. Not that anyone is giving any of the monks funny looks: a lot of them are standing around sending text messages on their手机 (cellphones).

Near the Gongtang Chorten shtupa.

So yes, people do stop to pee. At first I thought they didn’t because most everyone was hopping a fence to pee before they started the circle. There’s nothing like watching an old Tibetan woman doing her business.

As for the rituals taking place around me, I have no idea what folks are doing. Some of the women remove their hats when passing open doors (into temples and monks’ quarters by the looks of them). Some people stop and bow.



Wow, some of these folks are old. I can’t even guess—they’re pretty rugged looking. There is a lot of text (in the guidebook and on the walls of the hotel) about the local nomads—I’m starting to think they mean that literally.

I paid to get into a shtupa tower. I got a little Chinese language tour of the interior photos (this is the 4th Dalai Lama. This is the 8th Dalai Lama. This is the 12th some-other-Lama). There were four large Buddhas around the square (well, at least three of them were Buddhas: the fourth looked like a lady), and there were hundreds of small ones in little cabinets throughout the building—all the way up to the top.



There were many electric lamps, but on the first floor they were burning some sort of tallow candle or lamp. Smelled pretty funky.

So I’m attracting a crowd again by writing. I’m also sitting next to a beggar. There’s a younger lady, maybe my age, prostrating herself a few feet down. I’m on a little stone platform—maybe this isn’t a beggar, but rather it’s this lady’s job to keep the dust off this platform? There are also blankets and little hand pads sitting here so that you don’t get too dusty. Yep: my mistake. That’s no beggar: she’s renting out the blankets. Think I need to pay for my seat?

Back on the trail

I’m keeping pretty good pace with the decidedly un-ceremonial greasing of the prayer wheels (which a monk told me are called money wheels). A middle aged man and a little girl are using Pepsi bottles fitted with long nozzles to do the job.
Quite a few of the pilgrims wear gloves or have scarves wrapped around their wheel turning hands. The tower just past (what I think is the) the halfway point is whitewashed, but there is a bare spot on its face. I was thinking people touch it on their way by, but I just saw a lady put her forehead up against it for a good long while. How many pilgrims' foreheads does it take to wear away a paint job?

…

There are few wheels on this side—just a long dusty path, with lots of places for bowing. I just passed a group of 20 or 30 little hermitages up on the side of the hill. 3 or 4 feet tall, about 5 feet by 7. They seem to be right above the holy-of-holies, a pretty elaborate temple that has a big smudge pot outside, prayer flags, and drumming coming from inside of it.



I feel like I’m a little early for this part of the trail—I’m above the monastery a little bit up the hill. They say the chanting at dusk fills the whole valley. There’s still a while to go for dusk though.

At the Nomad Cafe

There is one last tower, which people walk around a good number of times, and finally two last galleries of wheels. And then you’re back in town with the mix of Muslim, Han, and Tibetan vendors and restaurants. I finally did hear the chanting near the end—the monks’ quarters are near the end of the circle, and judging by the sound, they were most definitely occupied.

Also near the end I passed two pilgrims doing the full prostrate: kneel, face plant, clasp hands over head, kneel, stand, take two steps, repeat. They were very, very dusty.

Now it’s time for dinner. I’m sticking with the book’s recommendation for now. I’m on a 3rd floor terrace. The Brits at the next table admit to being afraid of street food. I told them to get over it and enjoy the street meat while they have the chance. Against their advice, I’m having the boiled yak.

They were a shocked, simply shocked, to hear me speaking Chinese with the waitress. In the process of telling the story of their trip, they also complained about the service in Chinese restaurants. I explained that generally the 服务员, once they take your order, will pretty much ignore you unless you call them over. So I taught them the word, and when my first course arrived the lady leaned over and said “they’re better with vinegar and chili.” So I called “Fuwuyuan!” and the the lady said “Oh, he’ll teach by example.” I felt a bit like a performing monkey at that point. But she was right: the dumplings were better with 醋和辣椒。

In case you were wondering: the yak rocked!

Breakfast

There’s a total hostel atmosphere here at the Overseas Tibetan Hotel. Right down to the English breakfast and Israeli backpackers.

A bit about the bus ride out here: I was looking at my class notes for a bit (and lamenting how fast I’m already forgetting characters) which caused a 50ish man to move to the seat next to me. He corrected a few characters, and insisted on changing a bunch of neutral tones back to their originals (in many 2 character words, the second character loses the tone it would have had by itself and turns into a neutral tone). So I guess there’s some debate about this point. Also, he insisted that every syllable gets equal emphasis—pretty much directly contradicting most of my fluency training.

So I might ignore his lesson (although I do appreciate getting my spelling corrected), but he did do a pretty good job of pointing out all the Muslim features of the landscape passing by the window (and come to think of it, I didn’t see a single pig until I got to the Tibetan part of XiaHe).



Anyway, I know Gansu Province can’t be judged just by my route. My memory of the province’s demographics tells me that there is a three-way split between Han, Tibetan, and Hui. But dang—just about everyone in the countryside seemed to be a follower of Islam (which I think would make them Hui: please don’t quote me. I’m nothing without my reference books). I also saw many freshly completed mosques, and a bunch more under construction. And just about all the men were in white caps, and many of the women had some sort of head covering—wheter a hijab or a simpler scarf. My seat companion was sans cap (funny how I know the word hijab, but not the men’s version), but proudly insisted that he too was a Muslim.



A lot of the landscape on the way up to XiaHe is straight out of the Columbia Gorge and Eastern Oregon: dry stream beds, rolling hills on the plateaus and steep cliffs in the river valleys. No trees. But after a while, the hills showed terraces almost all the way up. I’d say that every inch of usable land is being farmed, but it appears that an awful lot of the unusable inches are being tilled as well!

The bus switch made me regret momentarily the decision not to set my alarm. First of all, they rushed me and I had originally planned on having lunch in LinXia (the transfer town) and having a little look around. (看一下，散散步). Second, one look at the bus told me that this was going to be another ‘developing nation’ moment. There were no chickens inside, but there was luggage and parcels strapped to the roof. I got one of the last seats. The other passengers included a few pilgrims, two old men with shiny new double-bladed hacksaw-looking things, a variety of other folk, and two Spanish backpackers who started the trip with me. I scared the hell out of a little girl by giving her a haw flake. She never did warm up to me. And by having a spirited conversation with the Spaniards we proved to the bus that yes, all white people do know each other.

Have I mentioned how beautiful the weather is? I actually had to put my coat on last night when I went to check out the Chinese end of town. (And yes, there was dancing in the town square. How could you even wonder?)

Pre-tour

I have a half hour until my tour starts. The main part of the monastery is filling with tourists. Maybe 2 Chinese for every 1 Euro/North American. I bought my ticket early and did a little wandering. I caught the end of a big chanting session—but I stayed outside. I’m still a little squeamish about interrupting people’s rituals. There was a group of about ten mini-monks outside the temple (not little people, but little boys). I think they were supposed to be reading lessons, but only a couple were. I got a wave and a giggle. Three others who were playing soccer in a courtyard wouldn’t let me take a photo. I’m really glad I asked.

Oh Flat Stanley, where are you?

Immediately post-tour

Lots of names of Buddhas and Lamas to remember. I won’t even try. But there are six collges located here. Our guide is a medical student, but the high lama says it is important for him to talk with the tourists.

I think the highlight for me was the big prayer hall, which was in use when we went thru…

Lunch

I had to stop writing because three monks wanted to talk to me. They taught me a few words of Tibetan (which I’ve promplty forgotten) and basically went through my whole backpack. I got a few Tibetan characters added to my Chinese notebook, and they got totally sucked into my map of Lanzhou. We were sitting near a gate that said (in 3 languages) “No women allowed. Please respect our traditions.” I asked why no women. They shrugged. I asked if I could go in and they said sure. It was a temple to some sort of dark-skinned monster-ish creature that I saw on side-altars in other temples, but here he was the main attraction.



I think the monks pinched my pen.

Post-lunch.

As I was saying, the big prayer hall. According to the tourguide, today all the colleges were praying together. They just had graduation exams, and today’s big prayer was only for those who passed. To quote the tourguide: “No pass. No pray.”

The monks sat in rows back-to-back so that one row faces another. It was pretty dark, and a little yak-butter (turns out that’s what’s in the oil lamps!) and incense smoky. Monks moved down the aisles pouting liquid into bowls—I don’t know if it was medicine or tea. According the guide, all the monks take Tibetan medicine for good health. (After it’s made, it is left on altars in various temples to age and collect power. I saw it in a number of places.)

The chanting was slow, and there were a few voices so deep and scratchy that they could have been throat singing. Or Tom Waits.



The tour was really informative, but I’m not sure if I know too much more about Buddhism than when I started. And it’s still a mystery how they kept anything going through the Cultural Revolution when so much of the place was destroyed. There used to be 80 temples here, now there are 18, and many of those are recently rebuilt.

I have one more stop (the printing press) and then my day with the monks will be complete.

Post-press coffee

The press was 5元 well spent. I think it may have been the building that the tour guide said was the library. The building looked all closed up, but I heard a ‘hey!’ from one of the side buildings (there’s sort of a collonade [minus the columns] of cells that makes up the courtyard of most of the temples) and I asked the monk who called if this was the “Barkhang”. He promptly asked if I wanted a ticket. The ticket turned out to be a 12” long wood block print, and the printing press turns out to be a lot of monks sitting around doing woodblock printing. The blocks are 4x12” planks of wood with Tibetan (sanscrit?) script on them. The building holds thousands of them, and made me wish I knew enough Chinese to discuss classification systems.



So it’s now approaching dinnertime, and it’s going to soon be time to decide what to do for the evening. I’m sitting on a main street balcony drinking coffee (in a decidedly tourist cafe). In a short while the sun will be hitting me in the face (unless the clouds keep coming). Should I buy a couple souvenirs? Replace my 2元 straw hat with a fancier Tibetan model? I did promise to find cake for my birthday (and I have found a bakery: I just haven’t bought anything yet). There is a hill to climb. If I eat early, I can make it up there.

Dinner

Get this: my waiter doesn’t speak Chinese. As I don’t know Tibetan or Hindi, we are making do with English. The restaurant is mostly monks drinking tea or Pepsi. I couldn’t really find anyone inside to share my birthdcay cake with (most everyone had cleared out by the time I was ready for dessert). There are rain clouds moving in, so I’m not sure if climbing the hill is such a great idea. It’s a bit of a dillema: I followed through on my promise to find cake, but do I have to eat it too? I fear I’ll feel just a little bit pathetic eating it alone.

Post-cake.

OK, that didn’t feel bad at all. I decided to take one last walk around, but not to stray too far. On the last pass through the monastery, I watched late pilgrims circling the tower at the end of the circle. It was approaching full-blown dark, and a handful of them produced flashlights. The flashlights and the approaching storm’s lightning were a good effect—I thought it was a rather poetic way to end my visit.

However, on my way back to the hotel, the crack of pool balls pulled my eyes to a lit window. I didn’t know Tibetan monks like to shoot stick.

糟糕！

I think I left Flat Jake and Matt in Beijing! Dangit. I've been through my luggage twice now.

Sorry guys.

After dinner lull.

I thought I was going to spend a good chunk of the afternoon working, but I guess I didn't sleep as well on the train as I thought I did because I spent a good chunk of the afternoon asleep. I've never fallen asleep sitting up with gum in my mouth--good thing I didn't choke.

So tonight I took a leisurely stroll, which turned into dinner on a snack street. I think I've finally figured something out. It's perfectly ok to eat lunch in a restaurant by yourself, but dinner alone is frowned upon. Maybe that's why snack streets exist? Anyway, once again, my most in-depth conversation of the day was with a 10 year old girl. While her vocabulary was about as limited as mine is, her pronunciation was great. She was very flattering of my Chinese as well, and gave me some walnuts from her family's table.

She came over only after another Chinese person had joined me:



And he only joined me because I was so fascinated by his t-shirt. All I could do was to tell him 'my wife is a biologist, may I take a picture?' Where the heck did this guy get an Ambion t-shirt? RNA the other nucleic acid indeed.

My triumph of the day were these two sentences: "I am leaving tomorrow morning, but I will come back the day after. Can I leave my bag here?"

Here's a few more photos from today. The last two are from the odd lunch-time restaurant. The thumbnail below is the man who cooked my dinner: yang rou chuanr he toumian (lamb kebobs and flatbread).

Lanzhou

Lanzhou: the 'real' China?

The taxi drivers at the Lanzhou rail station didn't even bother to try to get me into their cabs. I have a feeling that if foreigners make it this far west, they either have business or are trekking cheap.

I find myself somewhere in between, as my schedule just changed and I had to make an awkward (read: expensive) change to my itinerary. In Beijing, we had a term for what I just spend the last 3 hours doing. We generally called it 'singing the white privilege song.'

I'll be spending a little extra time here because I actually have an appointment at the Gansu Province Library--but it's not till next Tuesday. That means I'll have to skip Zhengzhou (where I had no appointment anyway) and go straight to Hefei, where I am due at 10 on Thursday morning.

Those of you who know the major cities of China probably see where I'm heading with this. For those of you who don't, I've prepared a little graphic explanation of the problem. Yep: that's an impossible train trip to take in under 48 hours. It would be possible if I didn't have to change trains and if it weren't the end of the summer holiday season. However, it's a funny trip, and the trains are crowded, so I sought the help of a travel agent. He hemmed and hawed, and suggested that maybe we could call a travel agent in Xi'an to go buy a connecting train ticket (see, the problem here in China is that you can't buy a ticket from a city where you aren't). The other option would be to buy a ticket for farther down the line (say, Nanjing or Shanghai) because the railroad saves more seats for these more popular destinations, so tickets from obscure point A to obscure point B are hard to come by.

After going back and forth for a while, it was time to pull out the privilege card and ask: so, can I get there on a plane?

Indeed you can sir, let me make a couple phone calls. Being cheap, I opted for a wonky connection through Shanghai that will leave me sitting in the airport for a while and getting into Hefei late, but I should get a good night's sleep before my appointment.

And now for Lanzhou. Where should I start? Seeing as I've only been here for 6 hours, I can't say that I've seen too much. But, on my walk from the train station, I did see a slaughtered, but un-butchered, pig pitched over the back of a motorcycle going down the street. I guess this is what they mean by 'undeveloped.' Sure, I've seen elk and deer tied to roofs in Oregon, but I hardly think it's pig hunting season here in Gansu Province.

Lunch, however, was great. I tried to just have noodles on the street, but the waitress insisted that I had to eat 'inside.' I think because I didn't know the menu. I pointed at the sign and said (in Chinese): "But there's the menu. Noodles. Soup. Beef. Pork." She basically dragged me into the alley, and started leading me to what, after two turns, I thought might be an involuntary kidney donation. I was even more wary when we entered what appeared to be a greenhouse. But sure enough, there was a big, leafy, restaurant deep inside. I'm not sure how they heat the place in the winter, but it was awfully pleasant today.

She insisted I order a vegetabe dish to go along with my meat. After staring at the choices for a couple minutes (remember, the waitresses don't leave you alone to contemplate the menu in China) I pulled out my cheat sheet. Not seeing any vegetables that matched anything I know, I looked up ask for a recommendation and discovered I had an audience of about 5, including two guys who had gotten up from the next table and come over to look. That's another observation about Lanzhou on the street, folks are generally too polite to stare. In the restaurant, they all but pointed and said: check out the guy with the big nose.

After ordering, I was anticipating a plate of beef in some sort of sauce, a vegetable in some sort of sauce (I had no idea what she suggested: it had the word fish in it, but when I pointed that out, she insisted it didn't have fish), and noodles. What I got was a bowl of beef soup (with noodles already in it), 鱼香茄子 (thanks for the correction!) (fish fragrant eggplant, whatever: it was delicious), and a side bowl of noodles.

It was pretty fantastic, and all for about $3. So the random restaurant in Lanzhou is a winner. On my way out I came to discover that the 'back alley' was actually a covered side street that was almost exclusively florists and restaurants. Go figure.

Xi'an difficulties

There's absolutely nothing wrong--except the net is slow. So I'm very hesitant to upload photos. I'm mostly trying to take care of my upcoming travel plans and do the most necessary email (and of course, talk to my wife).

OK. I just skyped in public for the first time. I got a few smiles from across the room, and the waitresses were pretty intrigued. They came and looked over my shoulder for a few minutes. After hanging up I showed them some photos. One of them then started showing me name cards and talking really fast. Finally I gave her a card and told her she can write. That made her very happy.

I don't think I ever linked to this album of photos. It's the last week in Beijing.

Wow: the next batch of photos uploaded really quickly. Come to think of it, I had an excellent skype connection with home too. I guess it's just the UO email server that is slow. Sometimes I think my connectivity problems have more to do with UO than with China, because not a single person with a government email address has successfully sent me an email at my business address. Last week I even signed up for a Gmail account to ease the communication problem.

So, here are photos from final exam day in Beijing and my first two days in Xi'an. Tomorrow I return to the provincial library for a building tour, then will occupy myself for the afternoon somehow before getting dropped of at the station for my overnight train to Lanzhou. Friday I will take a bus up into the mountains for a weekend at a Tibetan pilgrimage site, where I will spend my 38th birthday. It will be my smallest town in China.

On the road

Although it hardly feels. like it. I was met Sunday afternoon at the Xi'an airport by my friend GuXiujie and a van from the city public library. After a short stop at said library, I was dropped at the door to my hostel (but don't think I'm sleeping in a dorm room--I sprang for private) for an hour's rest before being picked back up by Gu and family for a gourmet dinner. Her husband handled the ordering and I gorged myself on local specialties.

After dinner we walked around a park with a 600 year old pagoda, and then I was dropped off and I walked around the south gate of the city and watched some dancing. This time it's not ballroom, but a local line-sort-of dance with fans and umbrellas. This morning it was off to the provincial library where I had my first sit-down meeting with someone who actually works on the project I am hoping to write about. After that, a quick lunch, a museum with Gu, son, and neighbor's daughter, and then souvenir shopping.

I excused myself for a nap and woke in time for dinner in the Muslim quarter. I was hoping to hit the city wall afterwards, but taking a wrong turn delayed dinner. In fact, I walked quite a bit, so now I'm pretty wiped. Tomorrow it's the terracotta warriors.

So there's a quick update. Xi'an is a much more Chinese city than Beijing (or at least the parts I was in). People are still very flattering about my Chinese, but sometimes they can't help laughing at my Beijinghua. I just can't stop saying 'yi diar' instead of 'yi dian', and I'm sorry, but every gate is a 'mer.' No N is safe!

Hitting the road

I have a shirt soaking in the sink, so I have a few minutes to give everyone a quick update before heading off for some last minute shopping. (Soap, razors, and batteries, if you must know.)

Took exams on Thursday, and finished up school yesterday with a movie and a two hour lesson on slang. Maybe that should have come first? Because now I know three different ways to call myself stupid.

They threw us another huge banquet with a similar menu as last time. And again, dish after dish came out of the kitchen. There must have been 15 different tastes. We're celebrated the end more than a little bit, and last night ended with a walk around Tiannamen. The idea came to me because when in DC I　always try to take a walk on the mall at night. So I figured ending a trip in Beijing in the same way might be appropriate.

Beijing has ended much the way it started: two food accidents in a row. But they were not unpleasant. The first was wandering into a very, very expensive restaurant last night (Damn you Insider's Guide to Beijing1). My companion is a good sport, and we both decided to splurge. So we reclined on couches, drank a bottle of grape wine, and had a really nice meal. I performed a trick that L taught me: 'which do you like better, the duck or the lamb?' I think the waitress liked that, because when she came back to the table to tell me they were out of the duck, she said that I should have the black cod. She must not care for lamb, or she somehow sensed that I've had too much 羊串　(lamb on a stick) in the alley this week.

I shared some of my friend's field greens with apples, walnuts and goat cheese. She had tempura tofu that was laid out like a plate of sushi (very pretty) which was fantastic.

I also think they really, really liked that we spoke a little chinese (and i even corrected my own grammar when I said I was finished. I tend to say 'eat finish' rather than 'finished eating.') It was a definite foreigner restaurant--except for the Chinese girlfriends in tow of at least a couple of the expats. And I'm pretty sure one of them was a pro.

The second accident happened at lunch today. I wound up having chicken feet. It's not that I don't care for them, they're just not filling and I didn't have time to order a second dish.

I'll try to post a last round of photos before leaving Beijing. After this it's all work and travel--expect the wackiness quotient to increase as I navigate to smaller cities.

The final push

Last few days of classes. Much studying to be done, which is being fueled by my favorite new snack: Black Pepper and Steak Flavore Lays potato chips. They are way better than the Finger Licking Braised Pork Flavor.

Travel plans for after school are coming together. I'm trying to squeeze in a few goodbyes and immediately after my tests on Thursday I will travel across town to take a tour of the GIS institute that is holding the conference at which I am speaking in September. After the luncheon on Friday, there will be less than 48 hours before leaving town: lots to do during that time.

So hang tight everyone. I'll do my best to make a good long post before leaving town, and I'm scheduling down time into my travels to keep the notes flowing.

Opportunities.

With things starting to wind down here in Beijing, L told me today that I had better have another art excursion before leaving the city. It's hard to imagine how that can happen as I start to focus on finishing up and plan my next moves. However, she is completely correct, as I WILL kick myself for missed opportunities.

I am at the point where I am spending more energy managing the information I have taken in than I am actually honing (sp?) my language skills. I know how to take tests and pass classes--but will this last week and a half further increase my skills, or will preparing for the tests actually harm my speaking ability? I have always sympathized with schoolteachers who find themselves teaching to standardized tests, and now I am having a visceral reaction to a similar phenomenon.

On top of all this are really silly decisions that seem to be creeping in: do I put off doing laundry by buying a couple t-shirts? Do I wander around to find a new restaurant, or save an hour (and some frustration) by going to a known quantity where I am familiar with the menu (or that has English)?

OK, so now I go learn to talk about the weather (including useful grammar such are rising/increasing and falling/decreasing by x amount) and comparing quantities (my broomstick is 5 cm longer than yours).

Please don't think I'm too boring. Yesterday's early afternoon storm lead to a blissfully cool evening in Beijing that demanded a bike ride. Nightfall found me and a classmate enjoying old-style capitol cuisine followed by some time in a park where an impromptu concert and sing-a-long was taking place. As I've said before, the Chinese really know how to use their public spaces. It was charming.

They judge us by our shoes

I finally found someplace where no one tries to speak English with me. And there are very few Latin characters.



Yes, the Russian quarter. Ever since I was mistaken for a Russian in Shijiazhuang, I have kept looking at the guidebook's description of the Russian markets. They have 'larger' sizes (because the people in my life are large), lower prices, and are much less crowded: all things that appeal to me.

The only problem with the day was that I was attempting to buy some souvenirs and 99% of the stuff here was crap. The only people with worse fashion sense than I have are the Russians.

But what a scene. I ate Russian buffet (and why, when I am in the home of Peking Duck has the best duck I've eaten been in a Russian restaurant?), wandered a block that consisted solely of fur dealers, and was slapped upside the head by the sound of two old Chinese ladies walking arm-in-arm down the street speaking fluent Russian to each other. I almost gave myself whiplash turning around to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me.

So in the market, I noticed after a while that most everyone looked at my feet before speaking to me. I think because I dress so generically, and because I look so Slavic, they had to think for a second before speaking. I think they were looking at my shoes to make a determination whether I'm American or Euro. Of course, I couldn't help them today because I was wearing my Chinese shoes. So most everyone seemed a little bit confused. About 75% started with Russian (to which I replied in Chinese "I don't understand" and in Polish "Russian." Because I don't know how to say Russian in Chinese. This got me a lot of smiles.), and the remainder tried Chinese first, then English. But I did most of my bargaining in Chinese. I bought 2 things and got one price down 50% and the other by 75%. The 50% discount came as I was well down the hallway.

Now that's a field trip!

Just returned from the 798 Dashanzi art district. Once again, I ditched the bus back and hung out. Wow. I think this is a bigger, more compact, district than any other city I've ever been in. It's at least as big as Riverwest in Chicago, and it lack all the boutiques and furniture stores that have lowered the gallery density there. I think it easily exceeds Wicker Park (Chicago)and Pioneer Square (Seattle) in their hey day. (Hay day?) And I will say that it has a higher percentage of conceptual (would you say cutting edge? Alternative? Not for hanging over the sofa? Dang, what would you call it. Non-decorative?) art than anyplace else I've been. It's not New York, but then again, the New York art scene has become scattered over the past couple decades, hasn't it?

Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I've put together some photos of the area, as well as a photo of Wednesday night's hot pot dinner that was had near Tsing Hua University West Gate. Yum yum. I don't remember ever having hot pot in the states. It rocks.

And the surreal China moment from Thursday? The restaurant where I had dinner had a little flood. There was about 6 inches of water at the bottom of two stairways that led under a second dining room and then up to the kichen in the rear (the topology of the restaurant is a little hard to explain). So did the place close? Nope. The waitresses just waded through it to get the food from the kitchen.

Speaking of the pigeon...

I haven't shown him/her to you yet, have I?



It hasn't shared its gender with me yet. But isn't that a handsome chainguard?



While online today, I also mapped out where I spend the most time. It's so nice to have good access!

Pick an old lady...

...and follow her. Don't make eye contact with the taxi cabs. Don't even look in the direction of a city bus: you'll lose your nerve. Just pick an old lady, stare at her back wheel, and follow her into the flow. It's the best way to get across the biggest of intersections.



I wonder if all the urban planners that are advocating for multi-use boulevards have seen what they turn into when you toss a few hundred bikes into an intersection?

My 'insiders' guide book says that if a day goes by in Beijing without you seeing something surreal, you're not paying attention. I say, if a day goes by without a reminder that you are in a developing country, you're hanging out in too good of neighborhoods.

In Haidian, because all those big intersections are all clogged up, the most efficient way of moving hardware around continues to be the traditional one:



I imagine these guys riding out to a parking lot somewhere and transfering their loads to a panel truck. And if you're not in the mood for a flat panel monitor, you can always talk to the guy with the loudest bicycle I've ever encountered:



And buy a cicada. I think the nicer cages are an upgrade.