She Who Must Be Obeyed

My wife arrived last weekend and left yesterday. It was like Christmas as a little boy! I sent my list to Santa of the things I wanted and, lo and behold, Santa arrived with a bunch of stuff that I have had trouble finding in my neighborhood. I got Cheerios…

…Rice Chex.

Santa brought me Visine, assorted safety pins, wide rubber bands, and cough syrup,…

…as well as shoelaces for my tennis shoes and a butter dish. You will remember that butter is not common here, and thus butter dishes are not fast moving items in the stores.

Here’s a picture of a zipper handle (?) that came off one of the garments I purchased here.

But, just in time, Doug & Patty S. sent, but way of my Christmas stocking, this zipper fixing kit!

One of the things I miss here in China is pesto. For some reason, I can’t find neither fresh basil nor prepared pesto, so I was quite excited to receive these two little basil seed kits.

We did a little tourist stuff, like visiting the Great Wall at Mutianyu. On the way there, at a toll booth, we found ourselves behind a very special truck.

It was a long, hard hike up to the wall itself…or an easy ski lift.

To get to the ski lift entrance we had to go down a few steps. As we did so, we saw a slight shadow suggesting something was on the step in front of us.

Turned out to be a new hybrid between a dog and a chameleon.

This part of the Wall, as most of it, goes along the ridges of moderately steep hills, and thus the steps of the wall itself are steep. Periodically there are guard houses (gates).

Next to this guard house was the usual double trash can, but I had difficulty determining which side was for recyclable stuff.

We hiked down past this guard house, and at the bottom we looked up at this long, steep climb up to the next gate, but I wisely (unusual for me) decided not to make the steep hike up to the next gate.

Coming up the ski lift we saw that the quickest way off the mountain was this metal toboggan chute,…

…which we decided to take.

Don’t you just love this sign telling us which way to go to exit the toboggan run?

That evening we were taken to dinner by some friends (as we were each night last week). I won’t bother you with all the wonderful dishes we had, but here was a tasty dish of shrimp and peanuts. You had to pick carefully around the various kinds of peppers.

The next day we walked a lot, going through the Forbidden City. It was here that we encountered our first rudeness, with people literally pushing and shoving to get a photo of the insides of the rooms. The chained-off portals were crowded, and I had to overcome my natural shyness and push a little myself.

This was my third visit to the Forbidden City and I hope it will be my last. I don’t enjoy the crowds, and I don’t know enough Chinese history to appreciate the brief glimpses, under duress, of the thrones and bowls inside the buildings.

I enjoy looking at the occasional trees. Here are a couple cypress trees intertwining and thus reminding me of the old folk song “Barbara Allen.”

This particular intertwining evidently got a little out of hand.

To tour the Forbidden City you enter at the south gate and walk north. Everyone must exit at the north gate. Just inside the south gate, in this large courtyard, we heard a commotion and saw these policemen yelling at a woman (in her 30s, I think). We stopped to see what was going on but we were immediately instructed, politely, to move on, so we did. I opted against whipping out my camera. A large van was summoned, arrived, and they forced her into the front seat. Her husband (?) tried to get in with her, but they prevented that.

Because we had to exit through the north gate, we had to make our way back to the area of the south gate to get to Tiananmen Square. It’s a long hike, and my feet were already hurting. But it was an adventure.

Heading down the little side street on the east side of the City, we saw a store front or home entrance with an unusual sense of symmetry.

At this point, the driver of a small cart driving by stopped and asked if we wanted a ride. I asked how much to Tiananmen Square, and he said 20 (RMB). I knew it was just a couple blocks, so I said no, I’d pay him 10, to which he countered 15. But I was in no mood to pay 15 RMB for a 2-block ride in a dumpy cart.

As we walked on, we saw an accordion store. Normally I’d have loved to go in but all I wanted to do was sit down somewhere and eat (which, of course, is what I feel like most of every day).

It was about this time another guy on a bicycle cart with an open passenger seat stopped and asked if we wanted a ride to Tiananmen Square. I asked how much and he held up 3 fingers. I thought 3 RMB was a good deal, so we both squeezed into the back seat. We went about 20 yards, then he turned left into the Hutong neighborhood. I pointed out that Tiananmen Square was straight ahead, not to the left. He mumbled something.

Then another of his friends came along side and we split up, one of us in each of the carts.

My driver was struggling while the other driver zipped on ahead.

As my driver struggled, twice he pointed out a couple houses and said “very old.” The finally came to a stop, still in the old neighborhood but closer to Tiananmen Square. I pulled out 3 RMB, upon which my driver said, “No, 300 RMB!” I laughed. He pulled out a card that showed the bike tour through the Hutong costs 300 RMB. We yelled at each other. My wife was worried, but I certainly wasn’t going to give this guy 300 RMB. I pulled out two 10 RMB notes and gave them to him; I figured this was a fair fee. Amidst mutual recriminations, we walked away, them glaring at me and I, in false bravado, laughing.

We stood in the middle of Tiananmen Square, turned 360 degrees, and agreed we’d seen enough.

We hopped on the subway with the intention of heading toward an art and antiques street called Liulichang. On the way there we kept our eyes open for a place to have to have lunch. We saw a large restaurant that boasted of its dumplings. We went in.

The menu was extensive, with lots of different dumplings and many other non-dumpling items.

After lunch (dumplings, other stuff, and 2 beers), set off on foot looking for Liulichang. We knew we were in the right area when we saw this sign.

We went inside a few jade and other stores, but quickly found the good pieces were too expensive and the cheap pieces were, well, cheap. This place evidently got the letter “I” mixed up with “j.”

The next day we went looking for a place called The Bookworm, an English language bookstore in the international area of Beijing called Sanlitun. On the way there, in the distance we saw a sky scraper under construction, and to my untrained eye, the outside column looked like it was at an angle (not vertical) at the lower part.

Surprisingly, it looked out of alignment up close, too. I won’t be going into this building when it’s done.

We walked a quarter mile down the correct street before we admitted that we must have passed it. I really wanted to find this place because I thought it was my best chance to get an English language map of Beijing.

We came all the way back almost to the main intersection when we saw it. We went in, had a latte and cappuccino for $9 and browsed through the books. Most of the place is a lending library, at a rate of 200 RMB for 6 months.

Time for lunch! My noise of my grumbling stomach drowned out that little voice reminding me to look for the map. We left The Bookworm and walked across the street to the fancy section and up to Luga’s a restaurant that serves both Italian and Mexican food. (We thought it was time for a break.)

Back in my home neighborhood we stopped in at my favorite plant place and bought another Freesia…

…and a yellow Ranunculus.

Again we were the guests of friends at a nice restaurant. Everyone now knows I love mushrooms, so they always order some. These were particularly tasty.

We also had sticks of Chinese radish with a berry sauce dribbled on it…

…and a delicious fish in a slightly spicy sauce with lots of cool vegetables.

When they said this dish was frog, I didn’t flinch.

I took a piece with my chopsticks, threw it into my mouth, and bit down, expecting it to taste like a piece of chicken. I forgot about the bones. At the end of the meal my wife and I had good sized piles of frog bones with a little gristle and even less meat on them while our two Chinese hosts had very small piles of frog bones as clean as if they had been sitting in acid for a week.

On her penultimate day we treated ourselves to a foot massage. Wonderful!

On the way to the airport there was a slight mishap, which I will recount in a future post.

Happy Easter, everyone.

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Rocky Mountain High

Day 4.

We were picked up at our Shaxi guesthouse at 7:30 a.m. by Sean’s driver Li, a young kid in his early 20s who turned out to be the best driver we had in Yunnan. Sean is the owner of Sean’s Guesthouse, the place at Tiger Leaping Gorge that I found online.

We took back roads through little villages as the highway in that area is still being built. Occasionally we got glimpses of the mountains of our destination.

As we entered the Gorge, we got our first view of the Jinsha River, a tributary of the Yangtze River.

We continued into the Gorge along a winding road with bad cases of both zits and acne (rocks and holes), finally arriving at Sean’s.

We were greeted by Sean, a 50-year-old (I think) Tibetan who has lived in the Gorge for decades and opened the first guesthouse there.

We climbed the steep steps from the road to the main level of Sean’s G.H.

Going to our room, we had to haul our bags up steps that were so steep that I was in risk of falling several times.

Here’s a picture, taken from the large balcony, of our bedroom window (lower level) with the mountains behind us. This part of China reminded both FII and me of our many trips to Glacier National Park in Montana.

Not surprisingly, I chose this place for these 3 days due in large part to the positive reviews about the food. We went downstairs for lunch, looked at the exhaustive and impressive menu, and in the end decided to be conservative and order some fried rice.

Looking away from the big picture window that displays the Gorge in front of us, we see that the dining room is as eclectic as Sean himself.

We had about an hour to relax…

…before we were driven a short way up the road…

… to the beginning of the hike down the Gorge to the Jinsha River.

Our guide was Lily.

It’s still unclear to us who Lily is. Sean’s daughter Lucy, whom you’ll meet on Day 5, calls Lily her aunt. Sean implied that Lily is his common-law wife, but also explained that such situations are illegal in China.

The initial descent was moderate (see lower left of photo),…

…shallow enough to accommodate small horses for locals and lazy tourists.

After this point, however,…

…the trail began to steepen beyond the ability of the horses, many places being not much more than steps carved out of the rocks.

Intermittently along this steep part, which accounted for about 2/3 of the descent, there were little covered platforms where a local would be selling snacks and drinks for those foolish enough to have taken this hike.

It was annoying to see Lily so relaxed, bundled up in her jacket, casually listening to music on her Smartphone, while she waited for FII and me.

Occasionally we’d come across an ambiguous sign. Here’s one warning us of “banger.”

My camera was focusing better than my brain because of my tired legs, and I didn’t understand what was going on until FII facetiously told me to be careful because this area must be “bangerous.”

I, on the other hand, was drenched in sweat, even on a descent, and my knees hurt. I had on long cargo pants, but they were thin, and so I wondered why my legs were so hot – until, just near the bottom, I remembered I still had on my thermal underwear from the early morning cold in Shaxi.

So I went behind this shack close to the bottom to take off the thermals and unzip the bottom parts of the pants.

I sat on the wall (blue arrow) and took off pants and thermals. Instantly I felt better – until I realized that there was another path that continued down river from this shack (red arrow).

I came to this realization because coming along this path, heading towards me at a distance of about 15 yards, was a 10-year-old girl. She laughed, showed me to her father, who whipped out his camera to take a picture despite my protestations. I, myself, do not have a photo of this encounter.

Lily led us the remaining short distance down to the rocks adjacent to the river.

Note that she is now carrying my sweatshirt. FII carried my thermals and pants bottoms, and they both carried water for me. Needless to say, I was exhausted. FII was probably a little tired, but Lily had neither a drop of sweat on her brow nor a heavy breath in her lungs.

FII and I were not too tired to pass up posing for pictures at the bottom of the Gorge.

The river itself did a pretty good job of posing.

I know that’s a lot of pictures to show of a mere river, but FII and I are great nature lovers and we can never get enough of this stuff.

My love of rivers began at the age of 14 when Bob Hager took a bunch of us from our church to the Kern River in California. We got to our camp site, set up our tents, and went down to the river. The water was moving at a good clip but what shocked us the most was how cold the water was, coming directly from melting snow off the Sierra Nevada mountains. So all 15 of us young boys in our jeans and jackets were trying to stay warm when Hager said, “I’ll give 50 cents and this candy bar to the first boy who swims to that big rock in the middle of the river.” We looked at him as if he were crazy, but when no one made the slightest move, I took off my jacket, shirt, shoes, and pants, and in my underwear, dove in and swam to the rock. I got out onto the rock, and immediately dove in and swam back. I think that one incident exemplifies my entire personality: always hungry, always greedy, and always stupid. But I survived.

Tiger Leaping Gorge gets its name from the spray of water that hits this rock when the Jinsha River is deeper and faster. Evidently the spray looks like a leaping tiger. I suspect it’s just a lie to attract tourists.

After about 15 minutes on the rock, Lily pointed to a path that had been cut out of the cliffs, saying we’re taking a longer but easier way back.

On this path it pays to be short.

The trail back was indeed much easier, but by now my legs were so completely out of energy that I fell behind very quickly.

FII stopped often to wait for me. Here he is enjoying the view from his perch on a rock.

I got to the same rock, and they took off while I recuperated.

I didn’t want to tell them how worried I was, but I had severe cramps in both legs that would keep me from standing, much less walking up a trail. Several times I had to sit (or rather fall) down and wait for what seemed like a half hour but in reality was only about 10 minutes so the pain would subside enough for me to go on for a little while. There were times when the pain was worse in my left leg, so I’d lead with my right and drag the left one behind me. At other times, the reverse was necessary.

I’m sure there were occasional conversations between FII and Lily that went something like this:

“I’m worried about your friend. Maybe we should go back and see how he’s doing.”

“Ah, Paul’s OK. I’ve had to wait for him on the trail for decades. He’s slow but he’ll get here eventually.”

While they were undoubtedly saying this, I was draped over a rock wondering if they’d have to call a stretcher for me because there were several times when I simply couldn’t take a single step.

Finally we got to the end of the trail…

…where we found terraces of winter wheat.

Lily, bless her soul, had the common sense to call for the van instead of making us, me, walk up a very steep mountain road back to Sean’s.

We made it back alive, something I was unsure of for a while, and I don’t think I’ve exerted myself like that for over a decade – not since my last hike in Glacier resulted in a ruptured L5-S1 disk.

FII and I collapsed in balcony chairs and enjoyed the view of the mountain across the Gorge…

…that, due to its proximity, reminded us of the view of Grinnell Mountain from the café at Many Glacier, where we’ve sat many times with Gordon Edwards drinking beer after a hard day’s climb.

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Welcome to the Hotel California

A couple months ago Mi Qi took me to the cinema to see a Chinese movie which was OK, I presume, but all in Chinese. The only subtitles were in traditional Chinese (as opposed to the simplified). He wouldn’t let me pay, and since then I’ve been looking for an opportunity to return the favor.

Like everyone else in the world under 40, action and special effects are far more important than story line and character development, so when I saw that the new Die Hard movie was coming here, I suggested we go see it – if he could confirm in advance that it was in English with Chinese subtitles, not dubbed.

The movie arrived here last Friday and we went to see it at 9:25 a.m.! He called the movie theater and they confirmed it was in English, so we went. That’s the earliest I’ve ever gone to the movies (or cinema, as they say here). It was as I expected: 5.7 out of 10, 99% explosions and car chases, 1% plot. The story takes place in Moscow, so a lot of the dialogue was in Russian – and the subtitles were in Chinese, of course, not English. Mi Qi started translating the Russian dialogue for me, but I didn’t want to disturb the other patrons (yes, there were plenty of other people there at that odd hour) so once again I missed about 50% of what was said.

After the movie we took a taxi to Jin Wo Shin (?), a downscale market place with lots of cheap, low quality, Chinese-made goods (his description).

It was one of those indoor warehouses with hundreds of little kiosks selling the same stuff. I bought two bedside lamps for $4 each. (For the past 6 months I’ve been using my camping headlight to read in bed at night.)

We walked to the outdoor part where Mi Qi bought a bunch of PVC pipe and had it cut up into 1-foot pieces, yielding two large bags that we could barely carry. We went out to the road to try to get a taxi, but this place is off the beaten path, and after about 15 minutes Mi Qi walked around looking for another travel solution while I waited on the road with the bags.

He came back with a driver of one of those tiny vans. This trip cost him twice what a regular (metered) taxi would cost. I insisted on riding in the back on the jump seat, looking toward the rear at the bags.

When we got back to the school, I picked up some dumplings at the cafeteria, intending to take them directly back to my apartment, separate them, and fry them for lunch. As I was leaving the cafeteria, I ran into a couple teachers who wanted to talk to me, so I sat with them while they ate. The dumplings were in a standard 4×7 Styrofoam box and I was worried they would overcook and stick together. I opened the lid to let out the steam and heat, but a little later one of the teachers closed it. Not too long after that I opened it again, but she closed it, saying something in Chinese that probably explained to this old biology teacher the nature of germs. As her English wasn’t sufficient for me to explain my reasoning, I just let it go (in my typical humble manner).

Finally, in my kitchen, I opened the box and started to separate them with my fingers.

I did my best to pry them away from each other and the box, but, alas…

That same night a bunch of us went karaoke-ing again – slightly different crowd. Mi Qi forgot his coupons to the upscale place, so we decided to go to a downscale place which wouldn’t be as expensive without coupons. Let me just say this point blank: These people have a rollicking good time at these karaoke places. There’s not-stop laughter at the lyrics, their singing, everything. I simply smiled in my Buddha-like way. This is Chloe celebrating her successful solo.

This Priscilla just prior to giving the victory sign, which I now can’t stand!

Here I am with the video screen in the background.

The videos on these machines aren’t any better than the ones in America. This place, however, did have a lot more English language songs that I knew, so I got to pick a bunch of old stuff. Still, the others didn’t know most of them. They did know and joined me on “Take Me Home Country Roads.” They didn’t know but became enamored of Kenny Rogers’ “The Gambler.” Next time I’ll choose more ABBA, Carpenters, and Eagles so they can join me more often. A lot of 30-something Chinese people know the ABBA stuff because the movie “Mamma Mia” was a hit here. I can’t remember if I told you why so many people in China know Carpenters and Eagles songs. Can you guess? In 2007 I was riding a local bus in Beijing when over the speaker system came “Top of the World.” I quietly started singing along, then noticed that many of the Chinese bus riders were doing the same. I was amazed!

Saturday morning I got a call at 10:30 from a friend who’s also the mother of one of the students here. She was coming over to the school with her daughter and wondered if I were available for lunch. I was. What she didn’t know was that I hadn’t mopped the kitchen floor in over a week and it was a mess. Not knowing whether she would be coming by the apartment, I jumped up, filled the bucket with soapy water, and raced around the kitchen mopping the floor. Then I jumped in the shower – I tend to let myself go a little on weekends – to clean up and shave. I was ready by 11:20 (phew!), at which time she called and said they were running late and could I meet them at the gate.

I took them to my favorite hole-in-the-ground restaurant. I got the impression that neither one of them had ever eaten in a place quite like that.

The daughter headed back to the school while the mother and I took off in the other direction so I could show her my favorite street produce market, which, as you may recall, is technically illegal. When we got there we saw that the street was blocked with cones, and there were 10 police-type people standing at the entrance of this alley. My friend asked what’s going on and was told they had decided to enforce the law preventing unlicensed vendors from selling on the streets. They said this was a permanent change but I’m hoping it’s just temporary due to the Party Congress in session. The indoor part of this market area was a lot more crowded, and the vendors therein looked much happier with the new system.

Heading back we stopped at my favorite little florist where I bought another unknown (to me) flowering plant for my window sill… *****NEW PLANT

…to go with the other two I bought 10 days ago.

I must say that I’m thoroughly disappointed in you all for not identifying for me that flower I showed you in “I’m a Girl….” Please help with that one or the new one. Where’s Patty S. when I need her? Here’s another close-up…

I also bought a bunch of red carnations for $6, and another flowering plant for $1.50. When I got back to my apartment I discovered that my $1 wine decanter/vase could only hold about half of the carnations, so I had to run around looking for empty tea bottles.

For dinner I made stuffed green peppers with chicken (far right), mushrooms (left), onions, and rice. Not bad, and I’m still eating them – topped with cheese, of course.

Tired, I went to bed at 8:30. The noise and vibrations from upstairs had been increasing in recent days, and at 10 p.m. it reached a level that compelled me to take action. I got out of bed and typed this note,…

…attached some stick-on chair feet pads, and went upstairs and taped it to their door. (If the letter is too small to read on your screen, try enlarging it by clicking Ctrl+ a few times.)

On Sunday, just as I was getting ready to leave, there was a knock on my door. Outside was a delightful family of 5, 2 parents and 3 kids. I invited them in and told them I felt guilty about complaining. They were extremely gracious and charming. They came to apologize for the noise, and I responded that I would never expect silence. The wife confessed that she thinks it was her new exercise program in response to the bad air that may have put things over the top.

They brought me some delicious chocolate chip cookies, but I only took (and ate instantly) one, telling her I had to lose weight. I was forced to accept from the kids, however, this note,…

…a 2-inch green egg in the shape of a dinosaur head and a small bag of jelly beans, which have somehow mysteriously disappeared.

Now I rather enjoy hearing the running back and forth, trying to guess which child it is. Context is everything.

Friday afternoon I got an email telling me that my visa could not be renewed yet. I had to go through the entire physical thing again and I was to meet my escort at 8 a.m. Monday at the front gate to start this process rolling. Pits.

So yesterday morning (Monday) I had to go to the clinic again where they took blood, checked my eyes, ears, and throat (in 3 different rooms), did an EKG, sonogram of my abdomen, and X-ray of my chest. I paid 600 RMB that I supposedly will get back from the school, and returned home. Here’s a thought: My wife arrives Sunday for a week’s visit. What if I’m deported this week?

Moderately eventful weekend.

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If I Told You I’d Have To

Before I talk about this week, I want to share with you a couple photos of FII and me getting our hair cut for $2.50 each.

I’m gonna take a short break from the Yunnan trip to tell you about the past few days. I went shopping at Carrefour on Monday, and you’d have thought I’d have learned my lesson by now. You’d be wrong.

I stopped at the cafeteria at 11 a.m. to get some bread. (If you go much later than 11:15 the bread’s all gone, snatched up by the teachers.) I had intended to grab the bread and head directly to the store, but I ran into one of my teacher friends and we ate a little lunch first, so I didn’t get on my way until 11:45. It didn’t take me long to pick up the paper towels and few items I needed but I spent way too much time going up and down the single international aisle looking for the pancake mix I bought there a couple months ago.

It turns out that they only have it occasionally and they don’t know when it will be back.

By the time I headed toward the cashiers the lines were half way up the aisles, and I calculated I had at least a 30-minute wait. I wish I had a movie of this day, but alas… After about 15 minutes of standing there with everyone else, I awoke from my reverie and noticed no one had moved an inch.

I left my cart in line and made my way toward the front of the aisle and noticed that the guy who was at the front of the aisle had graciously left a little space for people who wanted to move through the store perpendicularly to the check-out line. I thought that was a nice gesture, generally seen in America but less often in China. He smiled at me and said “Hello,” clearly knowing a little English.

Ah, but then I noticed a person (male) get in line in front of this guy, taking advantage of the space the latter had provided for cross traffic. I looked at the nice guy in line, waiting for him to say something to the butinsky, but he just stood there waiting patiently with at least 20 people behind him. The woman directly behind him had her face buried in her cell phone playing some silly game.

I probably don’t even have to tell you what happened next – but I will. I took a step forward and tapped the butinsky on the shoulder and when he turned around I pointed to the end of the line. He grimaced and left the line and went elsewhere. I considered staying where I was to police the line, but I eventually turned to go back to my cart, smiling slight at the nice guy and said, “Perhaps we need to be just a bit more assertive.”

Soon I had moved 5 feet and was near the front of the aisle. That was when the store opened a new aisle right next to the one I was in (which was still moving at a snail’s pace). Chaos ensued for milliseconds and I found myself in the new line more or less the same distance from the this new cashier that I was before that microenvironment exploded into activity.

I found myself behind the 30-something female with the cell phone game. Don’t know what she looked like because I would’ve had to get on the ground to see her face. We moved gradually, but eventually I could see my cashier about 4 people in front of me. That’s when a tall young man squeezed passed everyone in our line with a tube of toothpaste and asked the lady who was at the front of the line if he could go in front of her because (1) he was in a hurry, and (2) he had only 1 item.

The nice lady nodded without much of a smile and the guy tanked her. The cell phone lady, however, finally, after 35 minutes, raised her head and said something not nice to both the lady and the young man. I had a fleeting thought to go up to him and tell him to go back to the end of the line, but despite my general annoyance of the whole situation, common sense finally (and rarely) prevailed.

About 7 minutes later the cell phone lady was checking out. Everything went fine, until she went to pay. She gave the cashier (a nice young man) a cash card issued by the store. (Many of these establishments do this.) He ran it through the little machine several times, this way then that way, wiping it first, not wiping it, covering it with a piece of paper, but no luck. So she handed him another card. Same multiple attempts but same result. She said they should have money on them, so he handed the cards to his neighbor cashier who tried them, also to no avail. Then the nice cashier went to 2 other machines trying them there. Now everyone else in line is running out of patience.

The exasperated cashier came back with a “sorry” on his face and lips. I offered the suggestion that they probably got demagnetized, and the woman finally pulled out a little cash, paid, and left. If you see me heading for Carrefour any day after 10 a.m., for God’s sake STOP ME!!

Two other stops to make on the way back. At the pharmacy I picked up a better mask, this one designed specifically for PM2.5.

This photo was taken several days ago but just learned today (with a little embarrassment) that I have been wearing upside down. I just assumed the larger part was for my nose.

Then I stopped at the seamstress to check on the progress of her replacing the zippers on my jacket. (See previous posts and comments.) She said, through a customer/translator, that she didn’t get a chance to get to it and that I should come back the next day. I said that I was in no hurry and she could take longer if she needed. She replied that I should indeed return the next day because she didn’t have space to store stuff very long.

I stopped the next day and she showed me how she fixed one of the zippers. I checked the other zipper that was broken, and it turned out she forgot about that one, so I had to come back the next day. When I returned the next day, she showed me that she was unable to fix that zipper. I suggested, through motions, that it could be cut out and replaced. She said it was too difficult. I gave up. My jacket is back home, no more zippers replaced, one sewn back (at least for now), and one dysfunctional.

On my out of this small complex on the university grounds I stopped at the food counter (of course) where they make these wonderful fresh dumplings. The glass case has 7 or 8 different fillings. You tell them how many of each you want, they make them then boil them. I had no idea what the fillings were, but I just point at a couple of them and raised my fingers to indicate how many. The young girls in charge of this gourmet treat got a kick out of a non-Chinese person trying to make his way through in this world of Chinese-speaking people. Either that or they were laughing at my haircut. Regardless, I decided not to be concerned about their laughing at me but instead joined in the merriment.

Yesterday I was having an early (11:30) lunch in the cafeteria, sitting with 3 other teachers, and one of them asked me if I wanted to join him on an afternoon trip to a nearby research facility where one of the school’s students is doing a project. She was 1 of 28 students from China selected to participate in ISEF (International Science and Engineering Fair) this May in Phoenix. This meeting was to hear her presentation of her research and to begin giving her advice. I looked kind of cruddy but accepted because he’s a senior teacher and wanted me along.

We met soon thereafter at the front gate. A black car drove up and an army officer came out. In the front seat was a person representing Intel Beijing. I was told to sit in the back seat so I did so. Then they told me to move to the other side of the back seat because that would be the side away from the security officers at the installation we were visiting.

I asked the name of the institution where we were going, but no one could or would tell me.

It was only then that I learned that we were going to a military installation somewhere in Beijing. (There was no need to blindfold me because all the buildings and bridges still all look the same to me.) We were ushered into a VIP lounge with very comfortable chairs. We waited until the main guy arrived (about 15 minutes), who turned out to be a well-respected scientist who is a member of the Chinese Academy of Sciences.

After chatting for a few minutes we went across the hall to an immaculate meeting with a beautiful, large, oval table. (I learned later that the room had been built only one month before and that this was only the second time it had been used.) I was told where to sit (VIP position), and I motioned for the English-speaking RDFZ teacher to sit next to me. On the other side of her was the Intel person, then the senior RDFZ teacher (who speaks no English). On the other side of the oval were 3 male and 1 female scientists (recognizable as such from their lab coats) and a female military officer. Stereotypically, the female scientist looked gentle, sweet, and intelligent. The military officer looked hard and cold.

They asked me if I wanted tea but I declined at that time, satisfied with the 4 bottles of water in front of me. About 15 minutes later I changed my mind and got up and went over to the top of the oval where there cups with tea leaves in them and a thermos of hot water. One of the male scientists, a junior one, jumped up and offered to help me (actually to serve me) but I said I could do it.

The student, a sweet, 12th grade girl, gave her 5-minute presentation, during which I took notes furiously. The Intel person, who seemed to be chairing the meeting, turned to me and asked if I had any comments. Any of my former seniors or other students who’ve had the pleasure of practicing their oral presentations in front of me will not be surprised that I talked for 15 minutes, going through each slide one by one, talking about how to use the pointer, how much time to spend on each slide, which slides should be discarded, eye contact and rapport with the audience, etc.

The scientists and the Intel person took lots of notes. I think they were a little surprised. No one else had any comments to add. I pointed out that the student would have to create a poster and probably would not be giving an oral presentation and that we should talk a bit about how to produce the poster. They asked me if I had any thoughts about posters, and I talked for another 15 minutes, explaining the 8 items I had written while waiting in the VIP lounge.

I then go up to get more water for my tea, but the young scientist was ready and got to the thermos at the same time as I. He asked if he could help me, but I said, no, I could do it. But this time he insisted on pouring the water for me. Unfortunately, he was unacquainted with pouring regulator on top, and hot water came out all over my hand. He couldn’t stop apologizing. Needless to say, I found I no longer needed any more tea.

I took a picture (with permission, of course) of the cup, for obvious reasons.

“We” talked for another 90 minutes or so, mostly in Chinese. After more than 3 hours at this place, it was time to leave. We all gathered on the front steps. There was the same black car waiting for us. We all started to pile in but it turns out that the Intel person, who got in first, was going a different direction. So the rest of us got out and waited for another car. We waited and waited and waited. Phone calls were made. We went back inside because it was cold. They took the opportunity to show me some of their advanced equipment. We talked about research. Still no car.

One of the RDFZ teachers said that we might as well take a taxi and we headed for the exit. We were ordered to stop: we could not walk off the installation; we had to be driven off by official personnel.

Finally, after about a half hour, another car and driver arrived, we piled in, and headed back toward the school on the other side of Beijing – during rush hour. Upon arriving at the side gate, the car stopped and I started to jump out. I was told to get back into the car and close the door: the car MUST drive onto the property of the school and let us out there, nowhere else. Thanks to traffic coming out of the school, that took 10 minutes.

I finally learned the name of the place, but I can’t tell you.

That afternoon I got a call from the coordinator of all the foreign teachers who instructed me to be at the front gate at 8:30 this morning. It seems that my visa had expired on March 6. I remember asking her about this in January and she said we’d take care of it when I returned from America. We both forgot.

On the way over to the government office I had visions of being put on a plane to get my visa renewed in the U.S. We got to an agent right away and I assumed this would be a short visit. Silly me. This young female officer started working on it, but soon turned it over to an apparently more senior male officer. I worked on it for a while, looking at his computer for a long time, doing who knows what. Finally he called another, even more senior officer to come, who sat down at another computer, and did the same. Occasionally we were given a form to sign and date. While this was going on, the young female officer got a call apparently asking her to read the serial numbers of all the equipment on this long desk for 4 people. So while these two guys worked on the computers, she was moving the printers, monitors, and everything else sideways so she could read the numbers. She had to stretch the phone cord over the heads and then in front of the faces of the two male officers so she could read out loud the serial numbers of the distant printers and monitors. Neither of the guys seemed to notice.

After an hour, they gave us some last forms to sign. We were told that if this happens again (forget to renew before expiration) the penalty would be 500 RMB/day. They didn’t charge us this time because they know and respect RDFZ and they’re pleased that I’ve come here to help Chinese children. Evidently my companion did some lobbying while sitting there. I then learned that she was going to have to go to another office tomorrow for more paperwork on this, then back to this office to finish it up. Maybe I’ll still be extradited.

It’s been in the low 30’s the last few days and will be for at least another week. Still, I just learned that they (government) will be turning off the heat in these buildings tomorrow. The silver cloud here is that perhaps that means they won’t be burning so much coal and that the air may actually improve.

That was my week. How was yours?

保罗

Call Me Irresponsible

There’s a new crackdown on Internet usage and email to and from foreigners in my location. I will keep my cell phone’s Skype logged on mornings and evenings in case someone needs to reach me. Skype name = pacammer

A Chicken in Every Pot

Day 3.

We were picked up at our Li Jiang hotel at 7:30, and our guide and driver took us 3 hours to a small town called Shaxi, a relatively untouched village in a charming valley.

In the hills above Shaxi we stopped at an interesting temple built into the side of the cliffs. As I viewed the entrance and the 1,000 steps behind it, I was both dismayed and determined. Incidentally, the “urinate” sign I showed you in Day 2 was in fact located in the restroom to the right.

Off to the left of the entrance were some interesting carvings on the rock wall.

Halfway way up I looked up at my destination…

…and down whence I came,

…and all you could get out of me at the time was really heavy breathing and a breathless “I’m OK, I’m OK.”

We finally reached the main temple, which was loaded with Buddhas of every color…

(in at least two meanings of the word)…,

…and thus had only a few thousand more steps (i.e., 50) to get to the upper part of the temple.

It reminded me of a monastery my wife and I saw in Greece.

Up here we encountered playful monkeys,…

…a dripping waterfall,…

…and a sign with spacing problems.

It was early in the day, and I think we might have been the first visitors. Soon there were others…

whose sole purpose for their visit seemed to be to bribe the monkeys with junk food.

The golden happy Buddha called out to FII to stop and pay homage.

FII and I started to head down when we simultaneously wondered aloud how these monks were supplied with the staples of life. The answer was supplied almost immediately by these old but clearly tough women.

We left the temple, drove a short way, and descended into a ravine to see an old grotto,…

…only to have to climb back up. (Heavy breathing.)

In the town of Shaxi, we were taken to a house/restaurant with an unusual circular entrance,…

…a charming courtyard,…

…and an even more charming chef/mother/hostess (the one on the right).

No written menu. We were ushered into the kitchen…

…and shown the cooler with the veggies she had on hand that day.

She asked us what meat we wanted. I don’t remember how we responded, but the result was our hostess going out to the courtyard, standing on a small chair, and grabbing one of the 50 pieces of meat hanging just above us.

So, while we sat in the courtyard sipping tea,

…our chef chopped…

…and stir-fried,…

…her way to a delicious lunch of 4 different dishes. The meat in this dish tasted like country ham.

After we said our farewells, our guide took us to our “hotel”…

…that, despite the cold weather, had a nice yellow shrub in its courtyard.

After being dumped by our guide, then dumping our stuff in our room,…

…ignoring the complimentary safe-sex accessories on the middle table,…

…we headed out to tour the town. We went first downhill about a block to the river, which turned out to be an upper section of the Mekong (from Vietnam War notoriety),…

…part of which was diverted to create this picturesque canal along the new riverside park.

From what we saw of this town, it is in the process of positioning itself as a tourist destination for savvy but not high discriminating travelers.

We headed back through the “old town,”…

…spotting more of those strange trucks…

…and little carts powered by motorcycle engines.

It was an interesting town with lots going on, even though the weather was overcast and occasionally a little rainy. This couple was selling some meat they butchered.

We weren’t quite sure what the meat was, but an errant piece beneath the table gave us a hint,…

…later confirmed by a different view.

Friday is market day in Shaxi, and we heard it is wild and crazy. We were there on a Monday.

As soon as I took out my camera, the girl on the right in the hooded jacket pulled up her hood so she wouldn’t be photographed, while the woman in green was hamming it up.

Some locals evidently keep, at least temporarily, their pet fish in the gutter.

This couple was plucking a chicken on the sidewalk. Sorry the photo’s a little blurry, but I felt I should be surreptitious in obtaining.

At least they were being moderately fastidious.

We must have had dinner, but I can’t remember where, so it mustn’t have been very memorable. Maybe chicken. Either that or my memory is failing – but we know that can’t be.

That was Day 3.

保罗

Matchmaker, Matchmaker

Last weekend the NY Times had a lengthy article about marriage and matchmaking in China. Bob F. sent it to me. I sent it in turn to my friend Henry H., who sent me the following response:

“Most people in China of my generation have seen the great changes in China. In the late 60s and early 70s, a girl would be very happy if her future husband had 4 “luxury items” called “3 Turnings and 1 Sound” – “Watch, Sewing Machine, Bicycle and Radio.” Because there were no privately owned houses, many people had to postpone their marriage until a room (like a room in a college dorm) was assigned to them, usually by the man’s working unit.

“In China, a man usually prefers to marry a woman with similar or slightly less status, so there is a sliding matching scale between men and women. The “leftovers” are always “Ding Nan Jia Nv (丁男甲女)” – Class D males and Class A females. Among all people, female PhDs are particularly difficult group because of their higher intelligence, and their marriage plans are usually postponed beyond prime age due to their lengthy education.”

This photo is courtesy of the NY Times. Yang Jing, the “love hunter,” is on the right.

After I’m done at RDFZ, maybe I’ll try my hand at this new career.

If you want me to send you a copy of the article, let me know by email.

保罗

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

Day 2 of our vacation started off a lot better than Day 1 (which we’ll never mention again). The hotel’s breakfast buffet was adequate. As usual, though, regardless of whether you’re the first one to arrive at the 6:30 start time, the food is, at best, luke warm. Fortunately, FII and I are not picky under these circumstances and will eat just about anything at any temperature.

We had some fried potatoes, cabbage with some kind of meat, yams, fried rice, and pancakes with sweet dates on top.

Note that the fried rice does not have any soy sauce. If you order fried rice in almost any establishment in America, you will get rice that has been stir-fried with a few vegetables, some chopped meat or seafood, eggs, and soy sauce. But if you order fried rice in most parts of China, it almost always comes without soy sauce. Here it is: Though soy sauce is indeed used in cooking throughout China, it is the most prominent in south eastern China, and it is from that part of China that most of the early Chinese immigrants to America originated. That is why for decades, almost all the Chinese restaurants in the America focused on Cantonese cuisine, which is less spicy and more delicate than the other, spicy parts of China.

We were taken to the grounds of a nearby temple and walked around a lot.

The small sign at the lower right of this entrance, written in typical Chinese English grammar, shows the strict policy of tourist areas I’ve visited around China.

Though it was a little chilly, we enjoyed the leisurely walk around the charming grounds and posing for pictures.

One thing about walking around China (an activity that deserves its own post), whether on the streets or on a temple’s ground: there are double trash-can units everywhere.

I don’t know what happened to the “Recycle” part of this duo…

…but experience indicates it’s not really necessary, as most Chinese do not distinguish between “Recycle” and “Nonrercycle” cans in the process of discarding trash. I think the Chinese government must have had (and perhaps still has) an inspiration to improve the environment, but now they need to follow through with a public education program.

This temple being on a small (man-made?) lake means there are quaint bridges hither and yon…

…and the usual hazards.

We came upon an interesting tree with bark I’ve never seen. Any biology teachers out there?

We also came upon a group of locals during their morning tai chi exercises. I’ve seen this many times around China. Note that these people don’t need a fancy Gold’s gym to get together and exercise, even in cold weather.

All tourist locations in China, just as in America, have the requisite trinket shops.

Occasionally, you run across a moderately interesting item, such as this hat purportedly made from fox fur.

These temple grounds, like every other one I’ve visited, had defined paths, all “paved” in one way or another (usually with rectangular-cut stones), and people almost always stay off the grass.

When you walk around China’s university campuses, temples and other tourist sites, and the cities in general, you don’t see impromptu paths carved through the grass by people seeking slight short cuts. I asked a couple colleagues about this, and they said that Chinese people have a high regard for grass because of its relative rarity in cities.

We left the temple grounds and went to a nearby area of Li Jiang that I think was the old Old Town before they built the new Old Town we visited on Day 1. First we stopped off at a small museum dedicated to Naxi culture where we saw lots of pictographs,…

…some with a Rosetta Stone approach.

There was an old guy who is an expert on them.

He translated this pictograph, explaining that it says something like “health and good luck to the people of this house.”

There were ancient Naxi costumes on weird wire mannequins…

…intricate tree-root carvings…

…and small 3-D displays. Note the dust on the fake fruit.

Throughout China you see ceramic, metal, and whatever toads with a coins in their mouths. These are meant to bring good luck and fortune to your home. This jin chan (golden toad) usually has only one hind leg and is sitting on a pile of cash. According to that great encyclopedia in the sky, Feng Shui principles dictate that the toad should never be placed facing the outside door, nor should it be placed in the bathroom, bedroom, dining room, or kitchen. Running out of options, I think. FII bought me a brass one as a present…

…and this Naxi museum had a colorful ceramic one on display.

We left the museum and strolled through this small community,…

…encountering canals with slow moving water,…

…small aqueducts clogged with algae,…

…and interesting people ready to play duets…

…or solos.

This guy gave me a case of pipe envy.

Throughout China you always see people with small brooms and dustpans, sweeping up trash, even in this remote area.

I’ve found most of the China that I’ve visited fairly free of litter on the sidewalks and gutters. I don’t think the Chinese are any better or worse at littering than Americans, but my observations lead me to believe that they have a significant workforce dedicated to removing litter wherever they find it.

There were small shops selling clothes,…

…uncooked food,…

…cooked food,…

…unusual art work,…

…and brass feet. (Note the toad to the left.)

One of my favorite refrains that I tell my colleagues here is that China does two things better than any other country in the world: tea and mushrooms. Here, as in most of the places we visited in Yunnan, there are stores with enormous selections of mushrooms. Some of them are quite rare and thus expensive.

We were wandering down one of the streets, where I bought yet another mah jong set, this one made from yak bone, when our guide asked if we’d like to visit an embroidery museum. FII and I were a little ambivalent but in the end we said OK, and it turned out to be one of the trip’s highlights.

This part of China was/is part of the famous “silk road”…

…and I think we both expected to see some nice scarves, etc. What we found instead was a small school dedicated to teaching women – the only man we saw was the principal…

… – how to use fine silk thread to produce works of art.

This was the largest piece in the gallery, about 4 feet wide, and it costs about $4K. It was absolutely beautiful and, despite the fact that it was done completely with silk thread, it looked like an actual painting.

Most of them were traditional in style, but occasionally you came across a more exotic one.

I think my favorite was of these two farm children eating out of the same bowl. It also was $2-3K. Sorry for the bad photo, but I had to use my flash.

One of the highlights of this visit was our hostess, a charming young lady with impeccable English and a warm sense of humor.

The principal showed us how he himself makes wood cuttings and then uses them to make prints.

These were beautiful, and I bought one depicting Tiger Leaping Gorge, where FII and I would be going in a couple days. Here it is taped to my wall.

Before we left I was talked into buying one of the small embroideries for half the asking price. Here it is hanging on my wall,…

…and here’s a close-up.

We left the embroidery school, had a quick lunch, and headed for a small village, Baisha, at the base of the mountains.

This part of China was once under the ocean, and the walls of the buildings are made with a combination of rocks and coral.

Despite the one-child policy, children are present in great numbers everywhere in China.

The biggest tourist attraction of Baisha seems to be the horse ride up the side of the mountain.

This woman, whose house was on the other side of the wall to the left, is picking up horse droppings and depositing them on her side of the wall (there was indeed a pile) to be used for fertilizer in her garden.

One of the interesting things FII and I saw throughout this part of China were trucks like this one, with a cheap, low-powered lawnmower-type engine out front.

Despite the low horsepower of the engine, the vehicle is geared so low that it can haul a full load of bricks up a steep hill – quite slowly, I should add.

We visited briefly the former residence of Joseph Rock, an American botanist who spent many years in this area studying the native plants.

Our guide took us back to Li Jiang’s new Old Town where we visited another, more opulent temple…

…with nicer furnishings…

…and works of art.

We caught one girl donning her costume,…

…and a couple others taking a lunch break.

As we walked around the gardens, we stepped carefully.

We headed back toward the hotel, passing the many food vendors.

I think if we dug deep enough into this tea or soup or stew or whatever we would indeed find the kitchen sink.

That evening FII and I attended a concert of traditional Naxi music. Almost all of the performers in this orchestra were over 70; some were in their 80’s; one was blind.

The concert was about 90 minutes. Listening to ancient Chinese music on ancient Chinese instruments played by ancient Chinese men (and one female vocalist) is less of an emotionally moving experience than it is a lesson in cultural history. Regardless, having been a performer myself, I always feel it’s important to be courteous (i.e., silent) when someone is performing. I don’t know whether talking is rampant in other Chinese concerts, but there were several conversations going on while the music was playing.

One father was explaining how to use his complicated camera to his young daughter, and no amount of glaring on my part could get him to stop. Finally, I got the attention of his wife and indicated that she should tell her husband to shut up.

More irritating, however, sitting 2 rows behind the first violator, were 3 or 4 well-dressed men in their late 30’s or early 40’s. They were carrying on a conversation at only slightly reduced volume, and several people around them looked annoyed but said nothing. Finally, in the middle of a piece, I got up out of my seat, walked back 2 rows, leaned over and looked them all straight in the eye, and loudly said “Shush.”

I briefly wondered whether they would be waiting for me outside after the concert, but we returned to our hotel unblemished. If I live through my remaining 6 months in China, I’ll show you the video of that concert.

That was Day 2.

As a parting gesture to those businessmen or government officials, let me leave you with one last sign from our hotel’s restroom.

保罗

I’m a Girl and by Me That’s Only Great

No, I haven’t just returned from a clandestine trip to Sweden. It’s just that yesterday (March 8) was International Women’s Day, a holiday celebrated by a large number of countries, not including America. Being Friday, it was also the day of our weekly meeting of the teachers of the Science Communication Course (SCC). In honor of this great holiday, one of the teachers (Chloe) brought a carnation.

It was a sweet gesture and, no, there’s nothing romantic implied. The flower will be a welcome addition to my apartment – at least for a while. Because it’s warming up, my little florist around the corner put out some plants and flowers for sale, so I picked up a couple on FII’s last day to add to the apartment’s decor.

The one on the right is a common one but I can’t remember its name. Begins with “c” maybe. But the one on the left is one I’ve never seen before. Anyone recognize it?

Preview: I have a couple other interior decorating additions that I picked up on Day 2 in Li Jiang.

Incidentally, the song referred to in the title is from a particularly appropriate musical. Anyone know it (without looking it up, of course)?

保罗

PS: I’ve noticed that WordPress has started adding hyperlinks to advertisements. Sorry for that. Just ignore them. I suppose I could circumnavigate those by upgrading (i.e., purchasing) my WordPress account, but I guess I’m just a cheap, uh, frugal guy.

Zippity Doo Dah

This is in response to Bob F’s March 2 comment about zippers. Much as it pains me to give even the slightest credence to anything Bob says, I fear I must agree, at least in part. I do think the jacket I bought was indeed meant to be worn in China, considering the site of its purchase. FII suggested it is possible that a good portion of the Chinese people in Beijing do not demand superior quality in their zippers and thus purchase jackets with inferior construction.

On the other hand, I agree that the outrageously bad air quality is a factor. I think it is responsible for disintegration of the glue (yes, glue, not threads) that previously attached this right side pocket zipper to the jacket.

I’m not sure the bad air can be blamed for the sudden decline in functionality of my chest pocket zipper.

As we speak, the jacket is back with my seamstress who will repair or replace both zippers. I’m not sure which, as our conversation was understood by neither of us. Guess I’ll find out tomorrow.