Eric's Beijing Diary

My last evening in Daocheng. I left Chengdu Friday, and got to Kanding after a grueling 12 hour bus trip. Some of the road wasn't that bad, but some of it was very, very bad. Some of the worst roads I have seen in my life. I remember those roads well from my childhood in Japan. But what added to the problem was the kind of traffic on those roads. Big trucks carrying heavy loads.

When I got to Kanding, I called the Dongba hostel. They told me to turn left out of the bus stop and start walking. That didn't seem very helpful. But I was able to ask people as I was walking and I found the place. When I got there, they told me that they did not have any beds. That after I had called them several times and been told that they had plenty of beds. In fact, I had called them that morning from the bus to verify again that I was coming. The proprietor told me she would go out in the street with me and try to scrounge up something. I was not impressed. It was clear to me how they operated. They pretend to take reservations, but they do not honor them. They operate on first come, first served basis, which is their right. But the problem is, they don't tell you that honestly. They let you think you have a reservation, but if someone else comes first, they give your bed to them and then when you come they offer to help you find something. I really don't like to operate that way. Fortunately, there is a YHA hostel in Kanding, I had originally planned to go there, but the other one was recommended to me by some Chinese folks in Chengdu. Anyway, I went the Konka Hostel. They told me they did not have any dorm beds, but that I could sleep in a tent. I wasn't enthusiastic about squeezing into a small tend, but I also didn't want to sleep in the street. So I told them to show me the tent. To my surprise, it was a huge tent with ten beds in it. That would not be comfortable in Chengdu or Beijing because no air conditioning. But in the mountains, it is quite pleasant, because the air is cool at night.

I stayed in Kanding for two nights and left early Sunday morning for Daocheng. Another grueling, twelve-hour road trip. When we finally to Daocheng, I called the Yading YHA hostel, and they told me to wait for them. After a few minutes a couple of young people from the hostel showed up and led me to where it was. One of them insisted on carrying my heavy backpack. When I got there, I met some young people who wanted to go to an onsen. They had been asking everyone who came, because the deal was that if they had at least four people, the hot springs place would provide free pickup. I was exhausted. I really didn't feel like doing it. But I knew that if I did, I would come back and sleep like a baby. I'm really glad I went with them. Twenty-five RMB per person--thirty if you want a private hot tub. I paid the extra 5 kuai and got a private room. It wasn't quite like Japan. There was no washing area. I'm not sure what people here do. Do they just wash right in the tub? Or do they treat it like a swimming pool instead of a bath? I don't know. But in Japan it would be a mortal sin to wash right in the hot water, so I couldn't bring myself to do it. That's OK. I'm philosophical about that. I can take a shower any time. After we got out, they served us yak butter tea, which for me was exactly what the doctor ordered. A little salty, and very nourishing.

Yesterday, I rented an e-bike and took one of the volunteers from the youth hostel for a ride through the beautiful Tibetan countryside around Daocheng (although Daocheng is officially in Sichuan Province). Fortunately, the Tibetan kids we talked to spoke Mandarin, so we were able to communicate with them. But when one of their mothers came up, she just waved and said, "Bu dong. (I don't understand)."

Labels: Tibetan Plateau, Travel Sichuan

Heading up into the mountains out of Chengdu. I flew to Chengdu from Beijing last Saturday. When I got the Dreams Travel youth hostel they told me that there had been torrential rains in the mountains, so I decided to delay my trip for a few days. It's very cold in the mountains. When it gets cold and wet and rainy, it can be quite unpleasant.

Monday evening, I had dinner with Leander and his girlfriend. He goes by Joel now and his company is growing. Leander was one of the students who stayed in Beijing during Spring Festival when I first came to China ten years ago. Leander and his classmates were in the IC design class at the Software College. Most of them are now doing IC design, but Leander started his own company.

The next day, one of my English majors from the past school year sent me a message. He was on his way to Chengdu and he had seen my post on WeChat (everyone in China has WeChat). So he and his classmate took me to a local hotpot restaurant. You really need to do this when you come to Chengdu.

The next day I had dinner with Mary and her classmate. Mary is a young traveler I met last summer in Manzhouli. She had seen my posts on WeChat and told me she was studying in Chengdu. I meet a lot of people in my travels, so I was not sure who she was, but I told her to meet me and we would have dinner. She brought her classmate along, and we wandered through the classic streets in Chengdu looking for street food. Turned out to be a rainy evening, but we made it work. We managed to find a shelter just big enough to protect us from the downpour, and I was eating the little bit of street food I had managed to buy. I was fine. I told them I didn't need to eat that much. I have been eating quite well this week, and it doesn't hurt to eat a little lightly after all of that. But Mary was worried about me so she went out into the rain and bought a biscuit for me so that I would not go hungry.

Labels: Kindness, Travel Sichuan

Got back from Jiuzhaigou late yesterday afternoon. As mentioned earlier, I had decided to go to Jiuzhaigou when my train to Chongqing was delayed for almost a day on Monday. We left Chengdu Tuesday morning just before 9 o'clock. I had been told that the trip would take ten hours, and I was hoping for the best, but also expecting that there might be delays, because a road that has just been opened up after such a severe thing as an earthquake might be, although passable, just barely passable in some places. We did have several delays, but the turned out to be completely unrelated to the earthquake. It was the bus. And the driver. I guess I should blame it partly on the road, because I am sure the driver would if he were asked to explain why he drove into the ditch, but I'm getting ahead of myself. The first problem was the clutch. It first became obvious when, due to traffic from the other direction on a particularly narrow section of the road, we were forced to stop while going uphill. The driver could not manage to get the bus started again. It was very frustrating, and I was about to go up front and show him how to start on a hill, but I did not know, yet, that at least part of his problem was mechanical. Eventually, he was forced to back up a little before he could finally start the bus. While we were stopped for lunch in a small town, he took the buss to a shop to get it fixed. It turned out to be a temporary job, not a real fix, but more about that later. After we had finished eating lunch, which in my case, was a burned ear of corn--it's not just cooked, it's burned black, but it's actually quite good after you get through the char--we got back on the bus and headed out of town. The bus had just switched drivers, and the new guy was going like gangbusters. But I'm not sure I should say that, because it makes it sound like the other drivers don't. Anyway, we came to a curve running pretty close to a sheer rock cliff where the road was particularly narrow. The driver was racing around the corner when he saw a truck coming from the other direction. He should have hit the brakes and let the other guy pass. Instead, he kept going, and then had to swerve to the right to avoid the guy. The back of the bus left the road, and I think he thought he could pull it back on, but the jagged rocks on the wall of the cliff thought differently. BANG! The back of the bus slammed into the side of the mountain. The sharp, jagged shale sticking out from the sheer rock wall tore a mean gash in the side of the bus and shattered two plexi-glass windows. The bus, of course, came to a very sudden stop, and was leaning heavily to the right. No worries about tipping over, though. The mountain wasn't going anywhere. The drivers called the shop they had just taken the bus to, and a little while later, two guys came driving out of town in a little pickup. When I saw one of them carrying two little jacks over to the bus, I laughed. How in the world were they going to fix this situation with a couple small jacks? But believe it or not, they did. They jacked up the right rear corner of the bus, using the same kind of flat jagged rocks that broke the windows to build a little platform for the right rear tires. They drove the bus off the platform and back on to the road. The passengers boarded the bus and immediately set about the business of knocking out the rest of the glass from the two broken windows, and we were merrily on our way. Did I say "merrily?" Perhaps it would be better to say, "wearily." You see, the stupid bus still had a bad clutch, and anytime we had to stop for traffic, the bus would stall, and then the driver couldn't get it started again unless it was facing downhill. Level would be OK, too, I guess. But if we were facing uphill, forget it. He had to let the bus slide back until we were on the level. What was supposed to be a ten hour trip dragged on for an extra three hours, what with the crash and everything. Finally, we got to the bus stop in Jiuzhaigou, where I was inundated by the typical hucksters offering me a place to stay. I never go anywhere unless I already know where I am going to stay, so I just told them all a bunch of times that I wasn't interested. When I could get the hucksters out of my face, I called the lady at the hostel, and she sent her driver. I actually like that little "Roots" Guest house. Forty kuai for a small room. That's alright. I was tired, so I went to bed. I wanted to get an early start, but I knew it wouldn't be as early as I had hoped, because the day had been so long, and nothing is gained by getting up at the crack of dawn and then being tired and cranky all day. Might as well get a good sleep. When I made the reservation, I had asked the lady if I could get a bus from there on up to Langmusi in Gansu Province. She had told me that I could. But when I tried to make the arrangement after arriving, she talked to one of the drivers who takes people up there, and he said the police were not allowing any travelers through that area (it's a Tibetan village). Great. That means I have to go all the way back to Chengdu. I was irritated with her for not telling me that in the first place, but I suppose if she had, I would not have come, and I really did want to see Jiuzhaigou. Jiuzhaigou is a beautiful nature preserve set in the majestic mountains of Sichuan Province. I was told that it usually gets 10,000 to 20,000 visitors a day during the summer time. The day before yesterday, when I was there, I heard there were about a thousand people visiting the park. Generally, it's a good idea to get there as early as possible, then you can get on a bus, and when it stops, you get off, look around, and then go back and find a bus to get on. This year, since there were so few people, they were just stopping for a few minutes, and then having everyone get back on the same bus they had come on. I decided early in the day to break that rule. The problem, you see, is solitude. The last thing I want to do is just follow a group of people around all day. I wanted solitude. I wanted to be alone with God. So the first time we stopped, I deliberately got lost in the woods. I knew that if I didn't, I would not be ready for the day. I was feeling ornery and irritated, and I needed to settle my spirit. I found an isolated spot, and sat down to hear what God had to say. This is the verse that greeted me when I opened my Bible:"Did not your father eat and drink and do justice and righteousness? Then it was well with him. He judged the cause of the poor and needy; then it was well. Is this not to know me? says the LORD." (Jeremiah 22:15-16This is Jeremiah's rebuke to the son of Josiah. Josiah was a good king, who cared for the poor. But his son only cared for making himself wealthy at the expense of the kingdom. The message is clear. You want to know God? Then judge the cause of the poor and needy. You don't want to concern yourself with the needs of the poor? Then forget about knowing God. Knowing God is not what we think. We make it complex and religious. But to God, it is simple and practical. But I'll leave the sermon for later. I emerged from the woods to see that my bus had left. But there was another bus with a small private tour. They allowed me to hop a ride since I was alone, and they had an extra seat. I can't describe the scenery to you. You will just have to come here yourself. And you won't get out of it by telling me about the high prices your travel agent is quoting you for a tour to China. Remember, I don't do tours. I don't believe in them. I travel by myself and use public transportation. It's a lot cheaper, and much better, because you can follow your own schedule, not one prescribed for you. To be sure, you do need to learn a little Mandarin if you want to travel independently in Western China. And, of course, you have to put up with hucksters, wild drivers, and....oh, I don't want to start. As I said, it's just not possible to describe, in words, the expansive natural beauty of this place. And I can't show it to you, either. The camera that could capture it has not been invented. It's almost a sacrilege to be standing there gasping at the grandeur of God's creation, and then pick up my camera and be forced to zero in on one little tiny square inch of the majestic panorama. It offended me. I felt like throwing my camera in the lake. I was filled with anger and resentment, and I decided not to take any pictures. But I just couldn't resist. Fortunately, it was a very beautiful day. And the park was not crowded, because of the unusual circumstances of this summer. Still, I did hope to do a little hiking on my own at least sometime during the day. I talked with one of the tour guides, and she helped me map out a hike from a drop off point, to a pick up point further down. Solitude. What is it? Gary Kinnamon defines solitude as being alone without being lonely. It's not that easy to find in China, and many Chinese people seem to have resigned themselves to living life without it. But this is not good. Everyone needs some solitude. Jiuzhaigou is a very pretty place. But isn't really the place to come to if you just want to get close to nature. It's much better, then, to find one of the many mountain villages in Western China, and stay for a few days. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't come here. You should see the place. If you can, try to schedule your trip right after a major earthquake, when the roads have been closed so that it's much harder for the tens of thousands of tourists from all over China to get here. And it wouldn't be a bad idea to arrange for a local uprising, so that the floods of European tourists, who generally flow down from Lanzhou, will be diverted to other places. It's an unusual combination of circumstances, and it made for a much less frenzied experience.

Labels: Travel Sichuan

This evening I had dinner with a classmate of Leander from his university days in Chengdu. Anita picked me up and took me to a restaurant nearby. Sichuan Province is the home of the famed Sichuan Hotpot, and she wanted to treat me to the pride of the province. But I insisted on treating her, because she really was going out of her way to do this. She asked me what I wanted. I told her she was a lady, and if she picked something she liked, I would like it too. Many times when I go to eat with students, they ask me what I want. But I really don't know. I'm just not familiar with the names of all the dishes. And I usually get a better deal if I let them choose. That's one important problem with eating at a restaurant in China. You have to know how to order. Without the skill of someone who knows how to coordinate a meal, the experience is just not the same.

We feasted on fish heads, cow innards and bamboo. If you have never eaten (or helped to eat) a Sichuan hotpot, believe me, it is exhausting work. The food is very hot, in every sense of the word. They bring you a big pot sitting over a fire. In many cases, there is a hole in the middle of the table where the gas burner is located. Otherwise they will bring you a portable burner. Most of the time, the pot is divided between a spicy section and a non spicy section. Pepper is not spared. Before I had eaten for very long, the sweat was pouring down my face. Westerners tend to cringe a bit at the idea of eating fish heads, but the meat is actually quite tender. I decided to forego the eyeballs, though. I can have Jello anytime.

After dinner we went to the park and sat under one of the many gazebos by the river. Someone brought us two cups of tea and a thermos. I handed him 10 yuan. All the tea you can drink for 75 cents. Anita's father is a police officer. She struck me as being very well read, and her knowledge of history was impressive. She was very curious about Christianity. She wanted to know about Jesus, because her English teacher had been talking about Him. She said, "My English teacher asked me if I wanted Jesus to change my life, but I said, 'No,' because I don't know what I would want to change." Anita is a thinking person. She is very friendly and expressive. She kept apologizing for her English, but it was actually quite good, given that she is not an English major. When I told her of my desire to do something about the problem of primary education in the countryside, she was very sympathetic, because she grew up in the countryside of what is now the Chongqing political region (Chongqing was formerly part of Sichuan Province).

Labels: Chinese Cuisine, Summer 2004, Travel Sichuan

John Wesley Powell's conclusion to his journal is terse and unceremonious: "August 29.--We start very early this morning. The river still continues swift, but we have no serious difficulty, and at twelve o'clock emerge from the Grand Canyon of the Colorado."

Of course, I skipped some of the excitement, but the fact is that Powell's journey after the Howland party left him was largely anticlimactic. And once the mission is over, there is not much more that can be said about it. Powell is not writing for television. He is keeping an accurate journal, and he doesn't try to make it more than it is. Do the job, and report the results.

This morning, I departed the ship at Chongqing and took the bus here to Chengdu. I had hoped to spend a little time in Chongqing, because there is much history in that city. It was the capital for awhile when China, under Jiang Jieshi (Chiang Kai-shek), was fighting the Japanese. But Chongqing doesn't have any youth hostels. So I would have had to stay in an expensive hotel. Chengdu is a transfer point for backpackers going to Yunnan and Tibet, so there are quite a number of youth hostels. I am here at the Dreams Travel International Youth Hostel. I chose this one because it is run by a travel agency, so I figured it would have the best travel desk. The dormitory is 15 yuan per night (about two dollars).

This evening, the hostel had organized a tour to the Asian Cup football game at the new Chengdu stadium. Saudi Arabia was playing Iraq. When we got to the game, I was interested to notice that the people of Chengdu overwhelmingly favored Iraq. The team leader from the hostel told me that it was because the people in this area tend to view Iraq as the underdog in their fight with the Americans. As we were watching the game, a man sitting near us with a pair of cymbals stood up and started leading a cheer:

Iraq xiong qi! This is a popular cheer in the Sichuan dialect which means roughly, "Be a man," or "Rise up!"

The crowd responded:

Iraq, xiong qi! Iraq, xiong qi!

The man who was leading the cheer became more and more animated. Before long, he was saying,

"Saddam, xiong qi!" "Saddam, xiong qi!"

The police came and stopped him immediately. He had crossed a line. That was a political statement. Cheering one's team during a football match is fine. But Saddam Hussein has nothing to do with football.

Labels: Summer 2004, Travel Sichuan