I’ve Just Seen a Face

(Song by John Lennon and Paul McCartney.  It’s on their “Help!” album.  My favorite versions are by Kenny Rankin, which is slow and somber, and Holly Cole, which has a touch of the country sound to it.)

I’m traveling through that ancient country again.  Much to tell.  But first I have to tell you about my transit through Hong Kong.  Direct flights between Washington and Beijing were stopped during the pandemic and have not started up again.  So, I routed myself through Hong Kong.

Going there wasn’t a problem, except for the timing.  From my house to the hotel in Shanghai took 38 hours.  On my way back I flew from Beijing to Hong Kong.  In Beijing there were two different immigration and security checks.  Upon arriving in Hong Kong, there were two more security checks.  After the second, I assumed I was free to leave the airport.  As I was headed toward the exit, I saw 4 police officers standing near the exit looking over the people.  Their eyes landed on me and when I approached, a female officer headed straight toward me, held up her hand, and asked to see my passport and boarding pass.

I had just finished a hard 2.5 weeks traveling through China and was exhausted – and in mood to be picked on.  So, as I was searching through my cargo pants for my passport, I said, in an annoying tone, “I guess you stopped me because I’m not Chinese, right?”  She should have admitted it, but no, she said this is just a random check.  I unbent my aching body, looked her straight in the eye, and with a more annoying tone, said, “I don’t think so.”  Fortunately, instead of taking me in for interrogation, she returned my passport and told me I’m free to go.  Sorry I have no photos of the incident.

Ah, yes, Hong Kong

保罗

Grandma’s Hands

(This wonderful song was written and sung by the incomparable Bill Withers.  Other great versions were done by Livingston Taylor and Josh White, Jr.)

Warning:  This post is rated R and is not suitable for children or anyone else with delicate sensitivities.

Many people have heard me say that the Chinese do three things better than anyone else:  tea, mushrooms, and tofu.  But that’s only in the realm of food (which is my favorite “land” in Disneyland).  There is another invention of the Chinese that I think ranks way up there:  foot massage (also called foot reflexology).  The Chinese believe that through serious foot massage, many healing benefits can be realized throughout the body.

My first foot massage was in a small mountain village called Wuyishan, in the mountains of Fujian province.  I was there with two TJ students, and we stumbled upon this place that gave good massages for $5.  It was wonderful!

Then in 2012 I went to Xi’An to see the Terra Cotta Warriors.  After lunch one day my Chinese colleagues asked what I’d like to do, and I said get a foot massage.  We quickly found a nice spa and they lined all four of us up adjacently, each with a different massager.  (I can’t really call them masseuses.)  My massager asked me, through translation, if I wanted it soft, medium, or hard.  I, being a supermacho, said hard.  For the next hour, I had to grip both sides of the couch, teeth clenched, and occasionally uttering an involuntary whimper.  If I were in Tombstone, Arizona, in the 1880s, she would have given me a bullet to bite down on.

Then, when I was living in Beijing, I found a great foot massage place close to my apartment, and I went there about once a week.  Sadly, the price had soared to $8.  Truly sadly, they closed.  Like the U.S., there is high turnover of small business in Chinese cities.  I was so desperate I bought what was supposed to be a foot massager…,

…but it really didn’t do anything.  Maybe I should have pushed the “On” button.

In Virginia I have a Brookstone (also out of business) version of a foot massager, and it’s not half bad.

Whenever I’m in Beijing, I try to find time to visit my old back massager, Jerry.  I had a serious back problem once, and I went to Jerry three times a week.  He’s really good, as is his wife Annie.  Blind massagers are common in Beijing (and maybe other parts of China, too) because the government subsidizes them, and therefore their prices are low.  In 2008 Jerry was part of an elite group of blind massagers serving participants in the Olympic Games.  Here I am with Jerry and Annie.

These are two of the nicest people on Earth.  They work 12-hour days with 30 minutes for lunch, 7 days a week.  And they are grateful for what they have, they are always smiling, and I wish I could see them more often.  They have a sighted daughter in college in southern China.

One time Jerry suggested I have cupping on my back.  Annie is the cupping master, so she did it.

I believe the theory goes something like this:  the “doctor” heats the air inside the glass cup, usually with a candle, then quickly puts it on the patient’s skin.  As the air cools inside the cup, a suction (not a true vacuum, of course) is created, pulling the skin into the cup a little bit.  This is supposed to increase blood flow in that area, thereby increasing healing through natural means.  The scientific basis for this assumption is weak at best, but I like the feel of it.  It’s like someone scratching your back really hard.

With me there occasionally is a problem in that the hair on my back sometimes prevents the cup from getting a good seal, and the glass cups fall off onto the floor.  Annie, who sees slightly better than Jerry, was able to find them.

I’m sure if I asked Jerry to give me an hour’s foot massage he would, but I suspect he may be insulted if I do, thinking that I’ve lost appreciation for his back and neck massages (which I haven’t).

OK, back to the foot massage issue.  Wherever I travel in China I try to find a reputable but affordable foot massage.  One of the cities I visit regularly is Hefei.  On my last trip there, someone recommended a place not too far from my hotel.  The concierge kindly arranged for a DiDi pickup – in 2016, DiDi bought Uber China – and I was taken to this small pedestrian-only shopping area.  (I’ll talk more about this in the next post.)

Anyway, after wandering around for a while, I finally found the massage place (purple curtains).

I walked in just as they were opening and they weren’t quite ready, so they asked me to sit down and they brought me some tea and goodies while they performed their customary opening ceremony.

In China it is very common for businesses to start their day with the employees all lined up, facing each other, while the manager gives them instructions and a pep talk for the day.

This particular ceremony was held inside the business, but it is often held on the sidewalk in front of businesses.  If you’re DiDi-ing through Beijing around 9 or 10 a.m. you’ll probably see people lined up like this on the sidewalks.  When I first saw this I thought it was a bit bizarre.  And guess what:  I still do.

Soon the ceremony was over, and the manager (blue shirt) came and asked me what I wanted.  I said I was looking for a foot massage.  She responded that they don’t do that here, but she recommended another place close by, so I left.  (Later the person who recommended the place thought there was some discrimination at play here, but we didn’t know whether it was based on age, race, or my American accent.)

I went to find the other place, which I did.  As soon as I walked in, I realized this was a high-class joint.

I knew this because Judy came up to me and handed me her business card with her personal cell phone number.

Judy led me down a nice-looking hallway…

…to a room where she asked me to take off my clothes and slip into “something more comfortable,” which looked to me like leopard pajamas with short pants.

Judy left, I changed, and in walked #37.  As she was filling the tub at the end of the bed for my feet, I experienced a sense of euphoria with the anticipation of a professional foot massage.  Instead, she started massaging my ears…,

…then cleaning them,…

…and finally treating me to a tuning fork vibrating against the cleaning stick.

And, believe it or not, there is in fact something called “tuning fork therapy.”

Both ears took a total of about 15 minutes.  Finally, she made her way down to my feet and I got a great massage.  I’ll be back and I’ll look for #37.

I was looking forward to getting to Shanghai because I discovered a great foot massage place near my hotel.  But the knuckleheads put me up in a different part of the city, so on a free evening, I had to wander around looking for a foot massage place.

I found one.  I walked in and there were several women waiting.  One of them came up to me and asked if I wanted a massage?  I said yes, a foot massage.  She showed me the price list and tried to get me to buy the fancy package, but I resisted, saying I wanted only a simple foot massage.

Her name was Amy.  She was about 35, but she looked like she had led (was leading?) a hard life.  We went into a little room.  I sat down, rolled up my pants to the knees, and waited for her to return with the bucket of warm water with a tea bag in it.

I put my feet in the water, and it felt very soothing after a long day’s work.  But instead of working on my feet, she began rubbing my thighs, asking me if I wanted something she called a “happy massage.”  She asked me this 6-8 times during the next 5 minutes, and I consistently told her all I wanted was a standard foot massage.  She said she had a sister who had a tea shop around the corner, and afterwards she would take me there.  I think I just grunted.

Eventually she located my feet.  Clearly, she did not have a Ph.D. in reflexology.  I was glad when my hour was up.  She led me back downstairs where a guy was standing, ready to take my money.  He looked at her and she shrugged, saying something in Chinese.  He did not look happy.  (Maybe HE needs a “happy massage.”)  Fortunately, I had the exact amount (158 RMB or about $23) because I may not have gotten any change from this guy.  Amy asked me how long I was going to be in town, and I said 3 more days.  She wanted me to come back, though I can’t imagine why.  Strangely, Amy forgot about our date at her sister’s tea shop, so I left.

If you are a male and walking by yourself in a touristy part of Shanghai, you WILL be accosted.  Beware!  Sexual harassment of males in China is not an offense recognized by the government.

Cathy’s Clown

(Everly brothers, 1960)

I got a problem.  Generally, I’m a very private person and don’t like to discuss (or have other people discuss) my medical issues.  But this problem is germane to my China travels.  About 1.5-2 years ago I suddenly came down with very swollen lips, making me look like a clown.  They were very painful and lasted about 3 weeks.  I went to my primary physician, but he had no ideas except to send me to a dermatologist.

I went, but he had no ideas except to send me to an allergist.  I finally found one and she said I had what is known as a contact allergy to something.  This “something” interacts directly with the cells of my lips (i.e., not through the blood), killing those cells, and the underlying skin becomes very sensitive.  She said the reaction usually takes a couple days to appear and thus it’s often difficult to identify the offending substance.

Over the subsequent year I was able to determine, with a fair degree of certainty, that my lips are allergic to chili peppers and anything containing them.  For a long time, I’ve been successful at avoiding these little devils, love them though I do.  A little over 3 weeks ago I fell off the wagon and “accidentally” ate a bunch of chips and salsa.  Sure enough, a few days later I started to feel the effects, and soon my clown lips were back.

This is nothing to laugh at, if indeed laughing were possible without extreme pain.  My lips swell, bleed, peel, etc., and they are very sensitive and painful.  This stupidity on my part couldn’t have come at a worse time:  I was just beginning a tour of 5 Chinese cities where I had to give 2 presentations in each location and also had several small meetings in each city.

I considered explaining my lips to my hosts but decided not to.  Let them wonder.  One guy asked me directly if my lips were OK and I just shrugged and changed topics.

One night in a hotel room the pain was so annoying that I put a small, cold, wet towel over my mouth.

The blue bandana is to cover my eyes so I could blind myself to the pain.

As I said, during this 2-3-week period, my lips are very sensitive to touch, heat, salt, and just about everything.  Even brushing my teeth was painful, as well as rinsing my mouth out with cold water.

During this trip through China, I tried to be very careful.  I WAS very careful, but at times it seemed the deck was stacked against, committed to punishing me for my many sins of the past (distant past, of course).

In Nanjing I was with a good friend all the time.  My first night there he took me to Nanjing’s “Confucius Temple,” which is not analogous to the one in Beijing.  In Nanjing it is a large, multi-block area that is ancient and mostly limited to pedestrians.

My friend (let’s call him Joe) is very knowledgeable about Chinese history and culture, having been a teacher of same.  (That sentence reminds me of Charlie Chan.)  He showed me this building…

…and asked me to guess what it was.  I tried but failed.  It’s a watchtower for when, in ancient times, people took the national test.  There would be a watcher in each of the 4 corners to keep an eye out for cheaters.  This was serious business because if a student was caught cheating, both he and his teacher would be put to death.

We came upon this scene where actors were about to put on a play.

There is a nice canal running through this area,…

…and on the bridge over the canal young women are wont to take selfies.

There are tourist barges that people can take (see their yellow roofs),…

…but the line was too long, and we were more interested in eating.  (Big surprise.)

I reminded Joe that I could not eat anything spicy.  He took me to one of his favorite holes in the wall.

Is she holding her nose because of the food?

Not only did most of the food look really spicy, but the few things without that deep red color were dumplings, and I’ve been trying to avoid carbs.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to avoid spicy food AND carbs in China?

Fortunately, this tiny place had another area where their specialty was being served.

The only male employee was making their special duck soup in a big caldron.

Joe asked me if that was OK and I quickly said yes, that would be fine.  Too quickly, as it turned out.  What came was a very mild broth with cubes of duck blood and tofu.

I wouldn’t dream of offending Joe, so I ate everything.  As with many things in Chinese restaurants, it’s not the taste that is shocking; it’s the psychology.  As long as I didn’t think about blood, the chunks tasted like very mild pieces of liver.  I’ll refrain from telling you what they tasted like when I thought about blood.

Fortunately, Joe also ordered some tofu skin that was covered with something that tasted like a dilute hoisin sauce.

I enjoyed eating this, as tofu skin is one of my favorites.  Unfortunately, my wounded right hand (that’s another story) made it difficult to use chopsticks, and I had trouble picking up the pieces.

As we left that place, Joe asked me if I was still hungry.  I said no, but my face must have said something different.  A few paces farther we came upon another of his favorite dining spots.

This place, he said, was famous for its bean soup (though he called it something different).

It was syrupy and one of those ladles must have held 6,000 calories.  So, we ate only half a ladle each.  The lady server initially was quite shy, but I was persistent and eventually got her picture.

After our bean-soup “dessert,” we walked around a little, passing this plate of roasted chestnuts (I think).

There were a lot of little touristy knick-knack stores, selling nothing you’d want – except this charming little shop of tea pots, some of which are very expensive, depending mostly on their composition.

Nanjing is a nice city; more on it next time.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

One of my brother’s favorite sayings is “You’re ugly when you whine.”  This time I must plead guilty.  (To whining, not to being ugly.)

It started on the plane, shortly after take-off.  I was settling in, had my Bose Q15 noise-reduction headphones on, and was ready to take a nap.  Then I heard what seemed like a Chinese TV program.  But my headphones were plugged into my MP3 player.  Turns out the guy (about 25) sitting across the aisle from me was watching a movie or something on his cell phone – with the volume turned up so he could hear it over the sound of the engines.  Was I the only one disturbed by this intrusion into my noise space?  It seemed so.

This is not a rare phenomenon in China.  The usual culprits are men, young and old, and for years I’ve encountered this in Beijing parks.  Still, I was just standing behind a girl on an escalator about 25 who was watching (and listening to) a music video.  Here are a couple of guys, strangers to each other, sitting in the lobby of a Nanjing hotel.

It was like dueling banjos:  they both had the volumes on high, listening to different programs.  Neither seemed to notice the other.  Yes, I’m willing to entertain the possibility that I’m oversensitive to noise interference.  For example, right now I’m on a high-speed train from Hefei to Beijing and sitting behind me is a guy talking very loudly on his cell phone.  Looking around, I see no one, including the 50-year-old woman next to me, showing any signs of noticing this.

OK, I’m finished entertaining the possibility that I’m overly sensitive, and I’ve rejected it.  Chinese people talk loudly, especially the men.  I’m wondering if it is partly due to the nature of their language, which has a large tonal element to it.  I have been with a group of Chinese people talking and sometimes they had trouble understanding each other, even though they were from the same part of China.  Perhaps Chinese have to raise the volume so the subtleties that enable them to identify certain words can be distinguished.  Perhaps the pitch range of female voices is such that they can be understood clearly at a lower volume.

When I stay in Hefei, I always stay at the a hotel called the Chinese Caligraphy Building.  (More on that later.)  The other night I was in the hotel’s Japanese restaurant, and at the table next to me were 4 guys, apparently in their 30s.  All 4 were watching videos or something on their cell phones, and the cacophony coming from the table was almost unbearable.

I would have changed tables except for the fact that all other tables were reserved for the large convention group that was staying at the hotel.  This was a convention of beaut

icians.  Could have been worse.  Still, as I was going up to my room, I was in an elevator with 12-13 young women who all knew each other.  Though they were not speaking individually in loud voices, the total decibel level was, well, YIKES!

There’s no doubt that the novelty and excitement of China has worn off, and I become more irritated with some of the rude things I encounter.  For example, in addition to talking loudly most of the time, many Chinese butt in line.  Other Chinese are used to this and neither say nor do anything about it.  Just now, as I was waiting to pass through the turnstile at Hefei’s train station, a guy about 35 and a little taller than I, tried to push in front of me.  I literally pushed him out of the way.  I’m sure he was surprised at this, and he had a few words for me.  Fortunately, I had no idea what he said.  And again, while waiting to get onto the Airport Express subway, a man about 40 did not get at the end of the line of 6 people but simply moved to the front.  No one seemed to object, but I tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the back of the line.  Instead of going there, he moved to another door where he butt in line there.

So, back to the guy on the plane.  As you know, airline people will distribute tiny earbuds to those who need them.  When they came by, I accepted a pair, and then offered them to the guy across the aisle.  He actually smiled and, simultaneously, his girlfriend sitting next to him (who WAS using earbuds) spoke to him.  He graciously declined my offer and took out his own earbuds and plugged them in.  Everybody happy.

People, People Who Need People

People, People Who Need People (Barbra Streisand)

Shanghai, Part 1

I interrupt my fast-moving thriller about Jiu Zhai Gou to bring you a word form one of my sponsors – literally.  One of my clients asked me to go to several cities to train new teachers, so, with as much humility as I could muster (which wasn’t much), I agreed.

First stop:  Shanghai.  The population of this city and its surroundings is over 30 million.  This is the view from my client’s office on the 19^th floor overlooking People’s Park in the center of the city.

It is a nice place, with lots of flowers everywhere.

In one corner of the park are some children’s amusement rides.

One of the most exciting things to do here is playing with these earth movers.

Note that there is nothing in the sand pit but sand, and all the kids do is move the sand back and forth.  Maybe China is trying to excite youngsters to be construction people because so much construction is going on here.

In one part of the Park, there are lots of guys playing or watching card games.

Though no money is on the table, I see money changing hands as the day progresses.

Initially, I thought only men were playing, but then I saw these ladies in a co-ed game.

Not far away there’s a group of people playing that popular Chinese game where you kick a weighted birdie (white thing in the air above the guy with the striped shirt) back and forth.

Near the edge of the Park are people lined up to catch a bus.  It used to be very chaotic at these bus stops in the old days, but look how nicely behaved everyone is!

But it’s not a perfect world.  Like all parks, there are rules,…

…but this guy saw no specific prohibition against urinating in the Park, so he did.

I have no idea what this woman is doing.  (You rarely see Chinese people leave the official paths of parks – unless they have to urinate, of course.)

I don’t think she’s picking up trash.  I think she’s “borrowing” some plant bulbs.

There was a competition for young students at the little museum in the center of the Park, and this girl must have done well, as she seemed particularly proud of her entry.

Near the main entrance of the Park there was a large crowd.  I thought there must be some special event occurring.

A closer look revealed scores of people (mostly women) with umbrellas on the ground and small signs pinned to the umbrellas.

Here’s what’s going on (and it happens every weekend in this Park):  Parents of “children” in their 20s and older are advertising their children in hopes of finding a marriage partner.  Most of these signs contain the age, employment, income of the child, and contact information.

Here are a couple mothers discussing (negotiating?) their children.

The parent of this guy decided not to hang around but simply to leave the sign in plain view.

To be continued.

保罗

Constant Craving

(from k.d. lang’s Grammy-winning CD “Ingénue”)

Sichuan Day 6, Part 2

Across from the New Mexico women there was a narrow wooden railing.

I understand the admonition against sitting on the railing, but lying?  Really.

After browsing through the goodies for sale, we crossed a bridge to the far side of the lake…

…to look at more rivers…

…and waterfalls,…

…along with everyone else.

[Postscript:  Sometime between when we were there and now there was a serious earthquake at Jiu Zhai Gou, and a friend told me that this beautiful waterfall was destroyed.]

Lunchtime!!!  Why is it that I’m ALWAYS hungry?  Halfway back to our village we stopped at a little outpost where they sold instant lunches, and we bought a couple of these alleged “ready-to-eat” things.

I said “I’m starving.  Let’s eat.”  But then I uncovered instructions…

…that not even Einstein would have been able to decipher.  (He could not read Chinese either.)  A picture may be worth a thousand words, but if all those words are in Chinese, well…

So, X23 dismantled this apparatus and spread the various parts in front of her.

She gave me tasks that she thought I could handle, such as stirring the cooked-but-cold rice.

X23 then put the heating pad (loaded with toxic chemicals, no doubt) in the bottom of the container and poured the little bag of water over it.

She then placed the rice in the container,…

…covered the whole thing, then put that in the accompanying plastic bag.

The instructions say (so I was told) to wait until it puffs up, which it did.

X23 then assigned me the task of adding the goop…

…and mixing it in with the rice.

The lunch box came with a toothpick, also.

The food was good and so was the view.

After lunch, we followed the crystal clear directions to the bus stop to take us home.

As is very common in China, to get to the exit, you have to pass through a labyrinth of sales booths.  In this place, we found butterflies in amber, …

…some stuff that looked like saffron, …

and the pièce de résistance, dried caterpillars.  Yum!

Creedence Clearwater Revival

Sichuan Day 6, Part 1

This is our second day in the park itself.  The owner of the B&B told us not to go outside until people started showing up on the main trail.  This is because if the park authorities see us, they will charge us for a second day in the park.  After the crowds start pouring in,…

…we could venture out from our village.

Which we did.  But before we got beyond the boundaries of our village, we saw what has become a common vision in China:  a couple taking wedding pictures in a beautiful environmental environment, this time with unusual attire.

As we sat outside a little café in the village watching the wedding group, I noticed, off to the side, that there was a bucket next to a hose with water running slowly on the ground.  It seemed to me that someone meant for the hose to be filling the bucket, so I fixed the problem.

Let’s hope I didn’t ruin some guy’s experiment.

So, we joined the river of people flowing over the wooden walkway…

…in order to view the beautiful rivers of water…

…that eventually end up in small lakes…

…or large ones.

Every beautiful lake is bordered by a wooden walkway full of people, of course.

There were lots of gorgeous waterfalls…

…where inevitably some family group was taking a selfie.

X23 and I had no selfie stick but that didn’t stop her from taking selfies.

This particular lake was called Clear Lake (in Chinese, of course).  There were swarms (make that schools) of fish everywhere you would look.

Obviously, a good place for more wedding photos.

We continued along the wooden path and found a family who, contrary to the customs we generally observe in China, decided to go off-trail to have their lunch.

Exhausted from fighting the crowds every minute, we were relieved to find a relatively quiet side trail slightly away from the shore of Clear Lake.  The relative solitude allowed us unfettered observation of the local wildlife.

As we came to the end of this side path, there were a few students sitting on the steps at the end.

One of the frustrating things about China is that common courtesy, as defined by Americans, is often lacking.  In this instance, it was very clear from our noise that we were coming down the trail but there was no effort on the part of these students to “make a hole.”

We continued walking along the lake, and wherever there was an opportunity for a viewing platform, there was one.

This is because Clear Lake is particularly beautiful and clear.

One problem with crystal clear water is determining its depth.

The photo below is not upside down.  Need I say more?

At the far end of the lake there was a large are for people to gather…

…and, of course, buy stuff you don’t need.

I don’t why but this reminds me of New Mexico.  (Right, FII?)

(Day 6 to be continued.)

保罗

Wade in de Water, Chillen

Sichuan Day 5, Part 2

Yeah, we’re still here in Jiu Zhai Gou.

After finishing our food-truck special, it was, of course, bathroom time.  We found the public restrooms.  As it is worldwide, there was no waiting at the men’s toilets but there was a long line at the women’s.

X23 was on her way to get in this line when I noticed another section of women’s restrooms on the other side of the building – with no line!  She owes me one.

So now we started on our trip back to our village, partly by walking down the wooden trails with thousands of tourists and partly by shuttle bus.  There were fallen trees with mushrooms,…

…forests of red-trunked trees,…

…and more crystal-clear lakes.

This particular lake was very deep and especially clear.

I even think its name is “Clear Lake,” and, like everyone else, we had our picture taken nearby.

We hopped on the shuttle and headed back down the valley.  We noticed that one of the regular stops was at a largish building that seemed to be a local “Trading Post,” i.e., a retail place where we could buy really cheap junk that we don’t need and would eventually give it away to people we don’t like.  How can anyone resist such a lure?

We hopped of the bus and started towards the Trading Post, but halfway there we noticed a small footpath leading off toward an old village.

Off to our right was a woman outside her home,…

…and off to our left was a guy washing lettuce at a water pipe.

It turned out that he was the owner-chef of a small café in this village.  Because we were not the typical tourists, we took turns helping him wash the lettuce.

When we were done, we continued up the path to find a place where we could sit and rest for a few minutes.

I was a bit tired,…

…but X23, full of energy as usual, decided to become intimate with a nearby tree covered in prayer flags.

We walked a little around the hillside and noticed a number of “houses” in varying stages of construction – or perhaps deconstruction.

We saw a small concrete post in the ground that I assumed was an indicator of an underground electrical line.  Anyone have a better idea?

Finally, it was time to head back to the bus stop, and on the way we passed some horses saying their prayers.

Our next stop was at a place called “Stone Mill,”…

…and at the end of a short path was a fast moving river…

…with an old shack over it, presumably the actual mill.

It was a hot day and the water looked very inviting, but along the boardwalk the tourists stood and photographed the water.  I talked X23 into cooling her feet in the water, and out of hundreds of people on the boardwalk, she was the only one doing so.

Perhaps it’s against the rules, but there was no warning sign indicating this.  Notice X23’s excitement.

When I was in junior high and high school, one of the true joys of life was drinking fresh water from a clear stream such as the Kern River, so I bent down and did so here.

A young boy saw me doing this and decided to try it, while his mother and others looked on in amazement as if they’d never seen something like this before.

Arriving back at our own village, we sat for a few minutes on a bench outside the local Starbucks.

Before heading back to our hotel, we decided to peruse the village shops.  There was a hat place, but we decided against buying any hats, despite their chic design.

There was a jeweler at work making something interesting.  X23 told me what it is that he’s doing, but I forgot (duh).

Thirsty.  Yup, time for a drink.   We found a rather nondescript place (to say the least),…

With an interior that was anything but nondescript.

The woman in charge (manager? owner?) brought us some delicious barley tea…

…in a lovely bowl.

Outside, across the “road,” was a drawing in a shop window.  Still trying to decipher it.  Anyone?

We took an alternative route back to the hotel and came across more construction, this time more precariously on the walkway itself.

Back at our place, our hostess was preparing tea and dinner.

All the hotel’s residents sat at the same table for dinner.

What did we eat?  I’m not sure.  Mostly vegetables and seaweed over rice (yum),…

…accompanied by some milk with floating brown stuff that resembled malt.  As before, X23 told me what it was but I forgot.  Oh, well.

保罗

Man in the Mirror

Sichuan Day 5, Part 1

FINALLY!!  Today’s the day we go to Jiu Zhai Gou Park, our main reason for coming to Sichuan Province.  For years my friend MQ has been telling me this is the most beautiful place in China, and now I’m going to see it.

But first things first:  BREAKFAST.  X23 and I left our hotel (which didn’t serve any food) and sauntered a couple blocks to this little alley…

…where we found an eatery that didn’t even rise to the level of hole-in-the-wall.

I must digress ever so briefly in reminding you that the food throughout China is wonderful.  In 3 years of eating all over the country I never had a bad meal – until this morning.  I don’t know what it was about these noodles and buns, but they just didn’t taste good.

Maybe the problem was with me.  As you can see in the previous photo, X23 (in the background in her new gray and orange jacket) devoured this food, as she does all meals, as if there will be no tomorrow.

We walked down to the main road and grabbed a taxi to go the few miles to the entrance of the Park.  I don’t remember the exact cost of the entry tickets, but I believe it was about $15/day.  Just inside the entrance, we hopped on a bus,…

…and got off at the first main stop, a small village tucked at the base of the mountains.

In a rare moment of genius, X23 had arranged for us to stay at a small hotel in this village.  It was a great decision not only because of the ambiance but also because we got 2 days in the park for the price of 1.  (The way we did that was to wait until the second day’s buses started delivering tourists before we ventured from the hotel rooms.  That way Park officials wouldn’t be suspicious.)

We started up a walkway toward our hotel,…

…which, as it turned out, had plastic tarps covering the patio…

…because of all the construction going on nearby.

We were led into the common room (combination living room and dining room), decorated in the traditional lavish manner of Tibetans,…

…where we were served tea by our hosts.

After tea I sauntered out to the windowed porch (or sitting area) where I soon fell asleep.

There was another old man there, too, who was the father of the hotel’s owner.  He wasn’t really grumpy but he didn’t want his picture taken.

And while I was snoozing and the old man was pouting, X23 was goofing off, taking pictures into a mirror.

After I awoke, we decided it was time to take a look at the natural beauties of the park.  We headed toward the other side of the village, where we would catch one of the many buses that constantly shuttle throngs of people from one observation point to the next.  Our village is the first stop after boarding a bus at the entrance.

Near the bus stop is a colorful display of flags.

As we approached the bus stop area we saw that the crowds had increased,…

…so we joined them on the trek to the next observation point.  For most of this journey, all we saw were the backs and heads of other tourists.

Finally, the underbrush started to open up and we got occasional glimpses of beautiful river.

It was indeed crystal clear water.

We rejoined the hordes of people going up the wooden constructed trail, and soon came upon several cascading waterfalls,..

…above which was a crystal-clear lake…

…full of schools of little fish.  (I wonder if these are the ones they use to clean your feet.  J)

This is the view that reminds me of Glacier National Park, with the steep tree-crowded slopes next to the lake and the tree-less mountain in the distance.

We rejoined the horde…

…and finally made it, by bus, to the top of the valley.  Here, at Long Lake,…

…there were local people dressed in their native costumes.

We saw the other tourists eating lunch,…

…so we went to the single food truck and bought our own gourmet meal for about $1,…

…which we enjoyed immensely.

Throughout China, whenever there are large crowds (“basically” everywhere), you see many people ignoring the lines and trying to butt in and order something without waiting in line.  This was certainly the case at the food truck.  They are generally successful because they intimidate the sellers with their aggressiveness.  What impressed me about the guys running the truck was that they would not serve these “buttinskies” and continuously told them to go to the end of the line.  This kept me from having to tell them myself, which I have often done, much to the fear of my companions.

More soon.

保罗

 

Chiquita Banana

(Carmen Miranda)

Sichuan, Day 4, Part 2

The Chinese are fond of lavish shows.  Almost every town (especially the tourist ones) have a big show of some sort in the evenings.  Jiu Zhai Gou is no different.  At some time during the afternoon of our first day we decided to buy tickets to the town’s big show.  This was done through the hotel owner via an agent.

The plan was for everyone who purchased tickets through this particular agent to meet at a location about a couple blocks from the show’s site.  From there we would be taken on foot to the entrance, then have about 30 minutes to peruse the shops, restaurants, and other stuff before we went into the auditorium.

We made a great effort to be on time, and we were.  Unfortunately, one couple was running late, so we had to wait at the location for some time.  I complained that we were not going to be able to look at the other stuff before the show starts, and that we should leave now.  Still, we waited.  Other people got irritated, too.  (I’m such a rebel rouser!)

We finally took off and arrived at the entrance to theater’s courtyard.

We wandered around the inner courtyard for a bit, but we didn’t have time to visit the shops and other stuff that encircled the theater.  There were lots of Buddhas, large and small, scattered around the courtyard,…

…and a huge one carved into the hillside.

The golden urn in her hand is about 10 feet in height.

You can see from the vertical sign that the exotic English translation of the show’s title is Romance Show.

We took a few photos around the courtyard.  Here are a couple of dragons.

Finally, we were let into the auditorium.  This is half the audience,…

…and this is the other half.

In this second photo note the walkway between the two halves of the audience.  This will come into play later.  (It’s possible you may also note the picture on the screen.)

Like so many shows in China, there were acrobats, which the audience loved.

In case you’re wondering, that is indeed real water pouring across the stage.  Water seems to be a central “figure” in many Chinese shows.

The photos did not come out as well as the video I took of the show, but I’m gonna put some here now in case you want to breeze through them.

There was the obligatory military part of the show, with even more water,…

…but that was nothing compared to the sheet of water that came down on the walkway between the two halves of the audience!

Finally, the finale, with everyone on stage.

Once outside in the courtyard, we heard some music and noticed that everyone was cheering for something.

Walking towards the source of the commotion, we discovered that two of the performers were mingling among the crowd, available for photos.

No, that’s not Carmen Miranda.

The crowd dissipated and we found we were almost completely alone, walking around the shops, etc., which were mostly closed.

We examined the many prayer ribbons scattered along the wooden fence,…

…then headed down this fake alley…

…which in places had paintings and other stuff on the walls.

X23 posed to demonstrate her athleticism,…

…and I demonstrated mine.

“No matter how high or great the throne, what sits on it is the same as your own.”

We found a slanted room (or maybe X23 is slanted),…

…and another room with a weird table setting.

As usual, we were hungry, but now everything seemed closed.  Then we saw a small eating place that was empty…

…except for the cook cleaning up.

We approached her and, thanks to our charm, she agreed to make us some soup.

It looked great to me – at least until she added a bunch of spicy stuff.

In the end, it looked good…

…and tasted great, despite X23’s serious countenance.

保罗