All posts by AbandontheCube

We returned today from a four day trip to HuangShan, Yellow Mountain, in Anhui province, China.

On Friday the 13th we boarded the nightly slow train to Anhui at 10:00pm. We were in a crowded sleeper car with about seventy other adventurers on their way to the mountain. Everyone was wearing hiking boots and had Canon cameras around their necks. Since it had been raining the past few weeks, everyone had a rain jacket strapped to their bags. We settled in and fell promptly asleep after a few games of cribbage, and listened to the sounds of our fellow cabin mates playing poker until the early morning.

At 5:00am I woke to the sounds of laughter- our cabin mates were gambling again already. I pulled out my book and read for a while before descending from the top bunk (they are three high in mini rooms of 6 beds) and found a seat along the hall where I watched the scenery change from the flat, coastal farmland around Shanghai to the rolling, rocky hills of Anhui province. We arrived at the HuangShan train station at 10:00am.

After buying our return tickets to Shanghai for the following Monday evening, we were accosted by dozens of men and women eager to sell us anything we might desire. One such promiser was a middle-aged woman who offered a ride to the base of the mountain for 15Rmb. We agreed, as this is how things are generally done around China, and hopped in the back of her 6 person mini-van. Ten minutes later the van had 10 people in it and we were bumping along at 70 miles an hour. An elderly woman with purple hair tapped Mike on the shoulder every few minutes asking his age, or my occupation, or his dental plans, or if I wanted a boy or girl child. The van stopped in a town at the base of the mountain, but several hours hike from the start of the mountain trails. We got in another mini van, the driver of which was quite possibly drunk, and took off down a winding road of switchbacks until we finally arrived, mid vomit, at the entrance to the Nine Dragon Falls. Though this was not the gate we had asked to be taken to, the falls looked beautiful so we went in after the ticket lady (all of 14) assured us we could connect with a seldom used trail to the main route.

The falls defied beauty and went into the realm of nirvana. We were alone on the trails, which were often little more than a few granite stones pointing the way, and we stopped often to feel the water, take pictures or explore areas off the path. By 2pm we were hardly half way to the halfway point, and sped up our pace a bit as we hiked through endless bamboo forests. Around 3pm we stepped off the granite path and onto a black-top road, shocked to discover that there was an auto-route up the mountain. Also at this intersection was a cable car that would deliver people and cargo to the base of the summit. As the sun was going to set soon, we hopped a ride on the cable car for 10USD.

The cable car ride was, in a word, magical. From the bamboo and palm tree waterfalls and turquoise ponds the lift heaved us up into a frozen paradise, where trees looked like crystal and sidewalks looked like glass. When we stepped off the lift a surreal feeling fell over us, and there was a long silence as we walked around touching the ice and rubbing our hands together.

We explored the various peaks around the summit until well into the evening, and then discovered that the hotels on the summit cost more than I make in a month. We walked out of each hotel a little more worried until a plump little man approached us and said “100 Rmb hostel?” to which we replied, “YES!”

The room was a cement square with a cement roof and cement floor. Four wooden beds lined the walls. In all, it was smaller than the compartment on our overnight train and had no bathroom, running water or heat. It was negative 3. We bought the whole room, which was 300Rmb, and then put all the blankets on one bed to try to keep warm. A party of hikers bought out the rest of the building and stayed up all night gambling and screaming, singing and drinking. We lay awake all night shivering, cursing and then laughing. It was easy to get out of that bed and that cement coffin of a hostel to go see the sunrise at 5:30am.

The sun peaked out over the hills and light flooded the valley in waves of orange, red and then blue. It was beautiful, except for the hundreds of other spectators who were screaming, waving bells and trying to hear their own echoes in the early morning valleys.

After a nice breakfast at the spendy hotel we packed our bags, big adieu to the stout cement square owner and set off for a day of summiting the various peaks of HuangShan.

-Posted by Lauren.

Yellow Mountain

Today we’re heading to HuangShan, yellow mountain, in Anhui province. This is the most famous of the five sacred mountains of China, and the filming location of endless Chinese epics (including some scenes in Flying Dragon, Sleeping Tiger, or whatever its called). With some advise from friends (Thanks T&L!) we’re planning on hiking up the four trillion steps on one side, and then descending on the other side, having spent the night in a hostel on the top of the mountain. There are hot springs at the base of the mountain and endless hiking paths along the many ridges.

The train takes between 9 and eleven hours to get from Shanghai to HuangShan, so we’re leaving tonight, Friday the 13th, at 10:00pm and arriving in the morning at the base of the mountain. We’re only bringing a few changes of clothes, a cribbage board, my camera and notebooks. It will be very nice to get away from the noise, smog and hustle of the city in exchange for the bird chirping and rain falling sounds of the mountain.

When we get back we’ll have less than a month before we depart on the ‘Shanghai to the Caspian’ trip. This is a good warm up.

-Posted by Lauren.

As the trip planning progresses I find myself at the stage of applying for international visas, a process wrought with vagueness and inconsistencies. For example, you can get a transit visa for several Central Asian countries but the duration of stay is not long enough to get across the country by land. Or, visa laws will stipulate that you need A, B and C and then when you get to the consulate they will have a list that goes from A to Z of random documents and health testing you need. That aside, the trip planning is going well. We are set to go from Urumqi to Almaty by train or bus through the Tien Shan mountains, and then spend a day in Almaty seeing the world’s second largest canyon and the accompanying hot springs. From there you grab a train to Tashkent, Uzbekistan, where we’ll spend a day in the capital before heading to Samarkand and Bokarah, where I’d like to spend a few weeks, if time permitted.

Maps of the region are hard to come by, so planning a more accurate by land traverse is difficult. Where trains become obsolete we’ll take buses. In Central Asia and China a bus is anything from an SUV with all the seats removed to a long hallow tube with stacked cots and a pin for animals in the back. Hopefully the buses in and around Bukarah are an improvement upon earlier experiences, but either way its an adventure.

Trains are apparently the best way to travel…. until you reach Bokarah, whereupon the train becomes a projectile of T.B. From Bokarah we’ll need to take buses or rent an SUV or comission a pack of horses or camels to take us to Ashgabat. With visa laws somewhat obscure for Turkmenistan, I’m having difficulty believing I can just nab permisssion to cross at the border.

I’m growing more excited about the trip. Reading up on the bazars,

minnerets, whirling-dervishes, single-eyebrowed ladies and massive lakes of fire have inspired me to salavate when looking at the map of my overland route. It is a shame humans invented airplanes because I feel little good has come of it. We use them for war and for making travel easier. Unfortunetly its made travel less interesting. This trip is really going to feel like a trek from shore to shore. From Shanghai to Ashgabat, and then west to Turkmenbashy on the Caspian Sea. Visas are being acquired and train tickets sought out. The countdown begins!

-Posted by Lauren.

In planning the trip from Shanghai to Ashgabat, I’m encountering some chatter online about difficulties previous travelers have faced trying to cross the Irkeshtam pass from China into Kyrgyzstan. I contacted a Central Asian expert to inquire about the safety of traveling in this region, as well as the probability of attempting a border crossing at Irkeshtam. I was told it would be a waste of time to attempt to get from Kashgar to Osh. However, there is some hope in arranging for a Chinese travel company to escort me to the border and then deliver me to a Bishkek travel company, which would then drop me off safely in the capital of Kyrgyzstan.  As for safety, there was no one who would recommend a woman travel alone, naturally.

I’m determined to travel from the Coast of China to the Caspian Sea. If there were some way to make it from Turkmenistan to the Mediterranean I could have gone from coast to coast without touching an airfield, truly a feat in this day and age, where travel is about arriving, not departing.Alas, there are a few countries between the Caspian and the Med that are not intelligent to visit at present. It is all in the planning stages, and perhaps there is a way, but I will be more than happy to have gone from Shanghai to Ashgabat.

I invited a travel partner recently, and am excite to hear if she can make the trip. This woman has traveled all over the world, and has a travel resume that would make even the most adventurous traveler blush in envy. I’ll let you know what she says. She speaks some Russian and a bit of Kyrgyz, which would be helpful on the trip, not to mention she has an intimate knowledge of the Stans. I’ll not ruin the surprise until I get confirmation.

All else is going well, investigating visa options, researching train schedules and studying maps. I’m also following the news from the countries we’ll travel through and alternate routes should anything go south mid-trip.

-Posted by Lauren.

As many of you know, I was laid off from my financial job on New Year’s Eve (classy timing). But this upsetting twist has been an amazing thing. I’ve been busy writing full time now, and making a fairly decent income to boot. I’ve been painting and touring around Shanghai as well, and will upload pictures of the paintings soon.

Alas, this time should not go wasted. It is rare that I have money saved up, free time, and the perfect location from which to launch a trip like this one. I’m planing a journey across land from Shanghai to Ashgabat, beginning late April. So far, I have the first half of the trip, some 8,200 miles, planned.  I’ll take the train from Shanghai to Urumqi, which is a 48 hour trip through a varied and diverse terrain. I’ll be writting on the train, as well as photographing the changes as we chug through flatlands, mountains and then desert.  From Urumqi I’ll take an overnight bus to Kashgar, the bus takes 24 hours and skirts along the Taklamakan desert, one of the harshest in the world.The bus leaves mid day so that we will be traveling by night through the deepest parts of the desert.

Kashgar is one of the few places on the planet that inspires instant envy. I’m enveious of the folks I know who have been there who claim it is truly an oasis of culture and color- the fading with the influx of new residents. I want to get there before it compleately dissapears.

From Kashgar to Ashgabat, the roads are a bit hazy and the trip a bit more dangerous. Careful planning is needed, at least to secure visas, permits and find a map with existing roads on it. This second phase of the journey will be planned at a later stage. For now, I’m busy finding out what there is to see along the route I have mapped so far. I’ve been to Turpan and toured around Urumqi, so this trip I’d like to check out some outlying villages to the North of the city before heading through the desert to Kashgar. At some point, I’m determined to use a camel as a mode of transportation.

I just hope my laptop doesnt melt. April/May is a rough time to be out in the desert, but alas there is no time like the present. It will take about a month to finish planning, packing and acquiring visas, hence, the adventure begins now!

-Posted by Lauren.

Travel

How much would it cost to travel in Asia for a year?  This thought crossed my mind today as I was sitting in my office.  Like being back in grade school, my teachers refused to let me sit by the window because I would just stare outside all day and they would have to say my name multiple times before my head would turn.  Not much has changed since then as I am sitting in my office looking out the window.  Just ask Lauren, she will tell you how many times she has to say my name before I hear or acknowledged her – partially because I didn’t hear, more because I was thinking about something else, and probably because my hearing has gotten selectively more selective over the years.

Pondering bamboo scaffolding, how suspension bridges work, and what plant I would masticate as an antidote for…oh I don’t know, being shot by a poisonous frog dart like in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom; I fixated on travel for a long time this morning.  Now, all the previous thoughts being completely rational and normal for most people to have on a Tuesday morning in the office, how much would it cost to travel in Asia for a year?

This is really quite simple to answer, especially if you are already living in Asia and would not need to purchase a plane ticket.  Any Lonely Planet, not that I would recommend using them, will tell you that it is quite possible to get by on $20.00 USD a day in most Asian countries.  Even this is an inflated figure, as in many Southeast Asian countries you can easily get by for under $10 USD each day.  Including train travel expenses and the occasional treat, I think $20 USD is very fair.

I estimate that if I were to save up about 7,500 USD, I could travel for exactly 375 days, non-stop, for a year.  This was a really exciting thing to become fixated upon.  Lauren and I have no departure plans set yet, but these numbers are really fun to throw around in our heads for when we plan the Exodus and will probably affect how we go about doing it.  So much more to see and do!

“Do not tell me how educated you are, tell me how much you traveled.”

–  Muhammad

We recently moved into a new apartment because there were “health issues” with our last place. Walking around the Shanghai alleys around our new building we discovered a quaint little restaurant called “The Public Chicken.” Curious, and starving from the unpacking we’d been doing all afternoon, we took a seat in the middle of the oblong shaped room and waited. A friendly elderly woman approached with a list of ingredients and we quickly realized it was a hot pot place with tiny burners brought out to your table and a small, water-based stew put atop wherein you dunked various foods to cook. We ordered a pot and some mutton and veggies to dunk and then sat back and watched the people around us eat.

Dinner

After several minutes the elderly woman with the friendly features returned with a pot full of spices, herbs and pre-cooked veggies boiling wildly in the stew. I stuck my chopsticks into the pot and pulled out a small white flap with black spots. I turned it over in my chopsticks and smelled the mystery substance. Thinking it was a type of colorful seaweed I placed it back in the pot and poked around a bit more.We put in the fresh veggies and mutton and then waited while it boiled. The tomatoes and potatoes were especially tasty, and we wolfed them down soon after they were finished cooking.

Digging around the pot with my chopsticks I found another flap of white with black spots, I examined it more closely, bringing it up to my eyes for a clearer view. I heard a gasp and looked up. From the other side of the table Mike held up a small white hand that was grasped firmly around his chopstick, the nails digging into the wood. My whole body began to shake and Mike yelled, “is that a damn hand?” as he tossed it back into the pot. By now I was shaking and laughing out of wild fear. He regained his composure while I sat shaking and then went trolling for other body parts. Atop the boiling veggies Mike assembled the puzzle pieces of a large white and black frog, complete with head, tail and four precious little hands boiled into a gripping position. I watched silently out as he assembled his grotesque puzzle, wondering how many frog parts I’d already eaten.

Despite being one of the more disgusting things to boil to the surface of a pot I’d been eating out of, the meal itself was quite tasty. Apparently frog is a nice seasoning for fresh vegetables. I doubt I’ll eagerly reenter the Public Chicken (especially since it was devoid of Chicken and my imagination has already run rampant on what a kitchen full of frogs looks like) it was an experience to remember. Right up there with eating dog in Mongolia and seahorse in Beijing.

Image from the famed 1980's movie - The Princess Bride

We all remember this scene right?  When the Six-Fingered Man turns the water wheel and Wesley convulses in pain?  “I’ve just sucked away one year of your life.  How does that make you feel?”  Wesley whimpers and the Six Fingered Man responds, “Pity.”

This is how I feel about China’s air quality.  As Lauren and I approach our 1 year anniversary of moving to Shanghai (February 16th), and Winter colds and coughs are dissipating, I have been considering the toll we are paying for breathing in this air.  Chinese New Year was a blessing of one week’s worth of fresh air, blue sky and sunshine as all the the factories closed for the festival; albeit, some of it was replaced with very high levels of sulfur from some of the most amazing fireworks displays I’ve ever seen.

I was amazed to see the moon and stars, which I have missed a lot since I moved here.  Maybe comparing China’s air quality to the Six Fingered Man’s Life Sucking Water Wheel of Death is a little extreme, but those of you who know me also come to expect these urges I have to be irrationally sarcastic.  But is it that extreme?  – Oh, did I mention stubborn?

A few weeks ago I read an article on CNN about the last two decade’s Drop in US Air Pollution Linked to Longer Lifespans.  Hilariously blocked by the Chinese firewall, this article argues the statistical proof that the decrease in the United States’ air pollution has increased life expectancy by 5 months since the 1980’s.  This is absolutely mind-blowing as I can’t even imagine what I am breathing in comparison to…let’s say New York or Los Angeles?  China’s air quality and Shanghai’s air pollution must be at least 2-3 times that of the states (Randomly Generated Facts, pg. 486).

The New England Journal of Medicine, a little more reliable than CNN, has an article with staggering facts about air pollution and your health.  Now that we have moved to a new apartment, I think it is time to by an air purifier as well to curb the Water Wheel of Death that is China’s air quality.  Please check back for my next post: The ROUS (Rodents of Unusual Size) – The Panda.  Just kidding, only one Princess Bride themed post each year.

Its official. I was laid of on the 31st of December while on vacation in Beijing. I found out via an emailed letter from an employee I’d never met in London in the HR department. No explanation was given except for the “unfavorable economic situation.” Several others in our office (7 in total…. so far) have been laid off. Two additional staff were let go today…. literally three days before the biggest holiday and family celebration in China- the New Year. I will, I swear, never work for a bank again. They do not treat people like humans, and have no rhyme or reason for their crude and inhuman behavior. Its unforgivable how they have treated people, and it is a product of the industry as a whole. Shame on you, banking community, for being such *&#*&@_$s.

On the inverse, I’ve spent the entire month painting, reading and generally enjoying Shanghai’s city-scene. Its been liberating painting again, something I’d taken a break from for over a year for lack of time. Its a shame to let one’s hobbies go by the wayside. I’ve started a massive “History of Civilizations” book that is fascinating.

working

We are also busy apartment hunting. We found one we really loved, but as we were just settling our final negotations the realitor called to say that someone else had swept in with more money and taken it. It was a devistating moment, as now we are back to square one on the apartment hunt. Meanwhile, of of possibly bigger importance, the job hunt is stalling as no one will hire prior to the Chinese New Year.

Last night we all stayed up late to watch Obama get sword into office. It was a good moment in American history, and I am glad that the country is willing to work to reestablish our reputation as a moral country with humble power. I hope this president will roll up his sleeves and solve a few problems. I’m holding out for the best — we’ll see!

-posted by lauren.

HUtong

For the holidays this year my little sister flew into China via our week together with our brother in Japan. We took a break to hang out in Shanghai, even sticking it out over Christmas- when we climbed to the top of the JinMao Tower and walked around both the east and west banks of the Bund, before shopping and grabbing a nice Chinese meal for Christmas dinner.After the festivities of taking morning pictures we decided to trek to the Shanghai train station where we purchased tickets to Beijing the following Saturday.

The night trains are the only way to travel in China. You board in the evening (ours was at 8:30pm) and arrive the following morning after a night in a tiny bunk 12 feet off the ground, ready for your next adventure. Once in Beijing, we strolled to Tienanmen Square to gaze at the smog filled walkway and gateway to the Forbidden City. Afterwords we headed to a friend’s house, where we dropped off our heavy packs and then ventured out again to HouHai Lake, in Northwestern Beijing. The lake was frozen over, and skaters skidded across the ice, unsure of themselves. We strolled around watching them slip and slide about the lake before eating a massive Chinese dinner and heading to Sanlitun, the bar street, where we picked a quiet place for a few quick drinks before the long walk home.

The next day we saw the Forbidden City- a wonderfully intricate red, green and blue structure where emperors had once ruled. Two years in China, and I’d never been! I was happy to walk around the frozen palace, though the wind burn began to make smiling difficult after the first two hours. We then headed to Yashou– a shopping mall for antiques and other nick-nacks where we had foot massages to heal our sore feet. In all, we had walked 13 hours that day.

The following morning we relaxed a bit and headed to the Temple of Heavenly Peace, where we walked for hours around the gardens, surrounded by black crows and a few other brave tourists. We then did a self guided tour of the rebuilt hutongs along south Tienanmen.

The next morning was the 31st- the last day of 2008- and we got on an early morning bus to Badaling, a section of the Great Wall quite near Beijing. We arrived to freezing winds and very few tourists, and for the majority of the hike we were alone on the wall. The Great Wall is really more of a climbing ediphis than anything meant to keep someone else out. Beautiful though. After a quick nap we headed back out to Tienanmen for New Year’s Eve, where we assembled at the entryway of the Forbidden City with others celebrating the new year, and counted down to midnight in unison before cheering, hugging and then heading home for a night of much needed sleep.

The night train back to Shanghai was as old and rickety as the one we had been on a week earlier. I love the train, and slept fitfully but happily, it was in all a very fulfilling trip, and a great way to spend the New Years!

-posted by lauren.

Castle

The next morning we awoke early (late for my brother, who is in the military) and caught the early bus south to the Okinawa tram. The tram was much nicer than subways in China, with padded clean seats, polite rows for boarding and exiting and a very detailed map for navigation. I was impressed. We took the tram east to Shurii Castle, where Okinawan kings had once ruled. The place was large, stone and breathtakingly preserved (read: rebuilt after three massive fires). Signs surrounding the castle read “Beware of Snake!” so we trod softly and snapped pictures with one eye on the ground, the other in the viewfinder.

Inside, we were instructed to take off our shoes and march through a tour of the history of the castle in Japanese- a very impossible task, but the images were telling and we came away with a pictorial story of Okinawan history that was vivid, compelling and all together not Japanese, but an island of it own culture, people, rulers and traditions.

It began to rain so brother bought an umbrella in the gift shop and we began the trek back to the tram. On the way we realized how hungry we were and stopped in an Okinawan shop to eat noodles, sushi and drink tea. After a savory meal, we resumed the adventure and caught the tram to Kokousai Street.

Kokousai Street is littered with statues of famous items like Santa, dinosaurs, power rangers, pineapples and flaming skulls. We wandered around taking pictures with giant anime statues and pepper shaped benches before going down a back alley that blossomed into a giant hidden shoppers paradise. My brother bought me a suit vest (always wanted one!) and we ate sesame seed rolls and strolled about looking at dried snake, dried frog-skin purses and other oddities on sale for gaping tourists.

After several hours of wandering about we returned to the cabin exhausted and with memory cards out of space. We ate chicken noodle soup and went to bed content and quite early, the following morning my sister and I were set to leave Okinawa and return together to Shanghai.  It was sure to be a very sad farewell. I wont write about it, but will say that we managed to find a Taco Bell before the flight took off, and I was as happy as a clam, but sad to be leaving my brother on the tropical paradise all alone.

-posted by Lauren.

After the pineapple park we were worried nothing would be able to keep the trip as elevated as that insane bird-biting adventure had. However, the next morning we woke up, sauntered down to the base grub hall and ate a healthy breakfast of American fried grease and then headed back to the cabin to change into our summer wear. After climbing into our swimsuits we headed down to the beach loaded with Bud’s, books, cameras and Ipods. Instead of finding a nice sandy spot we spotted some cliffs that cut shallow into the waves, and headed over for a look-see.

The water was turbulent, despite the nice weather, and we climbed around on the side of the cliffs looking for caves. We went quite a distance before being forced to turn back by a sheer wall of cement. Rock climbing on a beach shielded from the general public was liberating, and I wondered if anyone had stood on those rocks in years. Probably we were the first in over thirty years.

After we finished spelunking, we headed back to the sand where my sister discovered a live hermit crab, complete with beautiful purple shell, and we set up a little circular rice course of various diameters and took bets on how long it would take the poor crab to get to various areas of the circle. We named him Herbert and I won all bets as I’m more optimistic than most. Meanwhile, sister found another hermit crab (which we named Phil) and we set about digging a massive hole to watch them climb out of– a Colosseum for crabs.

Hours later we grew bored with the crabs and watched them scurry off into the sunset with wild stories to someday tell no one– being hermit crabs I doubt they gather around camp fires to tell war stories of humans abusing them on the beach.

All this time sister and I had been poking around with the silly hermits, brother had been reading and listening to tunes. We joined him until the sun finally set and then headed home for more Hannah Montana UNO and a few more Buds and chips. I had missed American food, and helped devour an entire bag of chips while watching bad American TV. Being around family was amazing, and we joked, played cards and watched silly shows well into the night.

-posted by Lauren.

Herbert

Winter

I have been living in China for almost a year now and, although my previous journeys here have enlightened, or embittered, I have a few things I would like to say before I go home for the holidays. I remember the words that left my mouth repeatedly when I left for Shanghai last February, “I’ll be home for Christmas.” This is true; I leave next Monday and will be home for three weeks. As I sit here in my cold Shanghai cubicle looking out the window, I see all the cars buzzing on the streets below honking their horns at yellow plumes of smog in the beams of their Lexus’ headlights, and I realize how much I now find ordinary. I used to walk down the street in the morning looking with my mouth agape at some of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever seen in my entirely short life.

China is the place to go to see people carrying the most random objects imaginable. I once saw a man waiting in the customs line to get into China from Hong Kong with nothing in his hands but a toilet seat. I couldn’t begin to imagine what exactly he needed that for, or why he went to Hong Kong to get it, but all I could think of was, “he is really going to be pissed when he finds out there’s no toilet paper.” When I’m not dodging street cars driving on the sidewalk or eating skewered fried tentacles from street venders, I’m watching a woman sweep up dirt on a dirt road or a man selling bananas next to a row of eight other banana vendors.

Just so we understand each other, I am not looking out over the city from my luxurious executive Shanghai office suite. I am working in China looking down from a cheap converted apartment building, which we use as an office. There are several rooms with ugly yellow Chinese cubicles strewn about. There are a few office plants, a water jug, and one air conditioner / heater installed in each room. One would be hard pressed to find central air in most Chinese buildings and it is hard to heat the ones that don’t have it installed. The tips of my kneecaps are as numb and there is a draft like you wouldn’t believe coming from the unsealed windows. Ah…Shanghai. The jewel of China, the most advanced and modernized city in all of the PRC.

It will be great to be back in America for a few weeks. I am almost worried I will not be able to function properly in such alien surroundings. Fresh air, wide open spaces without people trying to sell you stuff, English speakers, cars that drive on streets and not the sidewalks, toilet seats, toilet paper, and yes…the single banana stand located next to the other fruit in the one grocery store near my home. All I want for Christmas is some time with my family and friends, and to experience all the things I remember I used to enjoy like open air, Mom’s food, and true silence that I can only find at around 2 AM on the porch of my parents home in the country.

-posted by Mike.

On the third day- we rested.

Evil parrot

The next morning we were itching to get out of the cabin after having watched an entire season of The Office. We found that the most bizarre thing on the island was something called the Naha Pineapple Park. We arrived and new instantly that we would not be disappointed. A whole high school of young girls in plaid mini skirts, skull tattoos and backpacks shaped like teddy bears was just forming a line. We somehow got past them and boarded a golf cart shaped like a giant pineapple. What a thrill.

After the pineapple park we were ushered into the world’s largest sea shell museum. I’ll never scuba dive without a harpoon again.

After yet another overpriced gift shop we walked into the blinding sunlight and then, across the rays of light we saw an amazing sight- a Tropical Jungle Adventure park. After happily paying our entrance fee we skipped around the park petting goats, plucking fruit, catching butterflies and holding parrots. Our sister, at one point, managed to cover herself in evil, angry parrots squawking for sugar water. We fled the scene.

It was an amazing day, and that evening as I picked up my pajamas to get ready for bed, a gecko jumped out of the sleeve and ran through a crack in the wall. Lying wide awake, my sister and I listened to the sounds of the cabin mice as we drifted off to sleep.

-Posted by Lauren.

Oura Wan beach

The first evening my brother and I walked around the beach well into the evening talking and taking pictures. We watched the sunset, then sat under the stars. He humored my amusement with the clean air (something we have very little of in China) and the cleanliness of the streets and beaches. We talked long into the night and finally crashed. The next day we were set to pick up our parents and sister from the airport on the southern tip of the island.

The next morning I awoke to bad news- my parents had missed their flight, but my sister had made hers and would be arriving a few hours later than planned. My brother and I prepped for the change in plans by canceling the rental car and the other cabin rental and then searching the web for Okinawan transportation systems. We found them lacking, cabs were the primary mode of transportation without owning a car (and neither of us had an international license). Meanwhile, cab rides were on par with cab fares in the USA– and on our salaries they were hardly an option. We grabbed a government bus as far south as possible then hopped a cab to pick up the sister. Her flight was delayed, so we stopped at a small restaurant where I had my first taste of local cuisine. A very fishy and rubbery noodle soup that tasted, to my uncultured palate, like a balloon soaked in fish guts. Very healthy.

After waiting until the balloon digested, we set off again to search for the missing sister. Finally we found her- pushing three giant suitcases and bundled in several layers of clothing (presumably what would not fit in the massive cases). After hugs and high fives we began the journey back to the cabins- a full two hours by bus with multiple transfers, and then a twenty minute walk uphill to the cabins– with enough luggage to warrant a minivan. When we finally arrived back at the cabin we collapsed on the couches and did not move for some time.

Because our parents could not make it, they had hastily repacked our sister’s suitcase with gifts, and these we poured around a small Christmas tree I had brought from China. We opened a few gifts that evening– my other sister had sent us UNO, the card game, so we drank Cpt Morgan and Coke and played UNO well into the night.

-Posted by Lauren.

The cab pulled up to the airport at 6:00am. I managed to get the door open and throw a handful of crumpled bills to the driver before puking. He removed my bag from the trunk, tossed me a handful of change and sped off amid a swirl of dust, pollution and freshly splattered vomit.

I left China on a solo flight to Okinawa on the 4th of December, and arrived (thanks to time differences) fifty minutes after I’d left the Middle Kingdom. My stomach had settled on the flight– Shanghai cab drivers are notorious for their shifty driving, and my cab to the airport had been a test to the durability of my stomach lining.

It was freezing when I boarded my plane to the beautiful Japanese island of Okinawa, and when I stepped on to the tarmac at the smallest airport I had ever seen (yes! Smaller then Ghengas Khan Airport in Mongolia!) to a warm bath of sunlight that was over 70 degrees.

I was held in customs for over an hour as they carefully searched every wrapped present, and then re-wrapped them. Having landed safely I was now on vacation, and in no hurry to go anywhere. I sat and chatted with the guards while my bags were searched and they plesently let me leave once they grew bored with my strange array of gifts all wrapped in Chinese newspaper.

Outside I saw a handsome young Marine stepping from a cab and rushed towards my brother. I had not seen him in a year, and in that time he had gone from boy to man as a member of the US military. We jumped back in the cab and were calmly and professionally delivered back to the military base where my brother showed me around his barracks, his base, and then the pool hall and bar.

We chatted, goofed around and easily fell back into the sister-brother relationship. After a while we boarded a bus to another military base where we had reserved a few cabins for our family for the week– directly on Oura Wan beach.  This was my first tropical adventure, the furthest south I’d ever been, the first sandy warm beach I’d ever seen and the first time I’d visited my brother as an adult. It was going to be an amazing trip, and I could tell as we sat on the bus joking around and watching the sun set over the clearest blue/green water I’d ever seen. I’m a long way from the dusty streets of Shanghai now.

-Posted by Lauren.

Canon

Lauren got a new camera a few months ago and has been relentlessly learning the ins and outs of using a Canon 1000D, or in the States, a Canon Rebel XS.  Our friend Tim, who could be a professional photographer, showed her some new tricks and she has taken to the streets, and Japan, to collect some prized photography.  We will be updating our website, as well as our flickr photo album as frequently as possible.  For the latest photos, please visit our album or subscribe to our RSS feed for blog updates.  Moreover, please see Tim Stelzer’s gallery for some amazing shots from a recent bike trip from Lhasa, Tibet to Nepal.

The China job market is still booming. People all over the U.S. are losing their jobs as corporate cutbacks, layoffs, and budget cuts threaten their bottom lines. The job loss trickle down of the economic slump, although having pierced the Asian markets triggering stock drops, has not yet reached the China job market. Although the Chinese economy is in the red big-time for the year, jobs are available in many different companies throughout China’s major cities, both foreign and domestic. I myself have just transferred from a Chinese company to a rapidly growing (Hong Kong registered) Australian company.

A very reliable source, my Mother and her avid reading of Readers Digest, argues that my Generation – Generation Y – is the first generation to consider the possibility that there are other countries better than the United States. Now, I am by no means saying that China is the answer nor am I saying that that statement is true. But I do agree that I have pondered the possibility for reasons and tangents I will save for another post. Either way, if you are interested in experiencing a culture, environment, and job market that is unlike anything you have ever seen and are looking for an experience that will benefit you in years to come…China may be the right place for you. The top 5 best ways to make this happen are:

1) The ultimate and absolutely best, and safest way, to work in China is to be sent here by your current company. Although this may not be true if you are interested in learning about the culture, language, and gaining personal growth through ridiculous endeavors. However, if you want to live in a developing country in which pretty much everything is dirt cheap with the exception of your luxury apartment, personal driver, maid, and chef – which your company pays for anyway, this is the wet dream of almost everyone who is here under completely different circumstances. Also, you usually will be paid a ridiculous sum of money plus hazard pay to move here.

Shanghai

2) Teach English. If only a job is what you want, about 1 billion await for you my friend. Open any search engine right now and type in, “teach English in China.” If you don’t find anything you probably should never reproduce, or teach, because you must have spelled something wrong. You can get paid anywhere from 4000 RMB a month in rural areas, 6000-8000 in large cities of China, and 10,000+ if you have a degree and ESL certification. This is pure, and should be, untaxed profit. Usually you would receive travel, living, and apartment money as well. It is a great way to learn Chinese and decide whether or not you could stand living here long enough to have a career before you gouging your eyes out and your head explodes.

3) Next, you will have to turn to the website job posts. www.asiaexpat.Com has one of the better online listings for different job offerings in specific cities and their local websites are frequently trafficked. They have a large array of many different fields from the entry level to the executive. For the most part, do not expect to be paid the equivalent of foreign salaries through these jobs, but they offer great starting points and experience for those who are new to the international career world.

4) Then you have other career and expat living magazines and websites like That’s Shanghai, The Beijinger and so on and so forth. These provide tips on living in the cities, services available, dating, and pretty much anything you can think of. However, these sites have not been used for headhunting as much as they have been in the past.

5) Last, and by far not least, another great way to get jobs in China is relationships (关系). This is a huge aspect of Chinese culture. Almost every Chinese business deal hinges on being friends first and trusting one another. This aspect of Chinese culture has affected many expats living here as well. This invaluable means of advancing ones career happens very frequently to expats who reside in a city for a semi-extended period of time. Most people don’t stay here forever, which means that there are constantly openings in companies all over China.

If you are interested in moving to China or have questions about living, working, or finding work here. Please feel free to contact us and we will be more than happy to help you out. You can also read more about our lives in Shanghai.

The Shanghai music scene mirrors China’s rapid growth and development over the last few decades. As one of the largest financial and commercial hubs in the world, Shanghai is also a culturally diverse metropolis. From Mexican mariachis to glow-stick waving raves, the city hosts a variety of international music for the entertainment of expatriates and locals alike. The Shelter, a converted World War II bunker, provides a rave atmosphere for unhinging your joints and flailing to Chinese techno. Meanwhile, Zapata’s cervasas and tiki huts offer a relaxing place to unwind after a long day of work.

Famous in SH

Although the city’s entertainment venues primarily focus on the clubbing and dance scenes, several live music bars have gained devoted patrons. One of the best places to find these hot spots is through That’s Shanghai, a monthly magazine that provides a listing of restaurants, bars, and music events throughout the area. This comprehensive guide provides everything you need to please your literal, and creative palate. Music events in Shanghai range from subway singers to local Chinese and expat bands, to international celebrities such as Kanye West and George Benson (performing this September).

Tucked away down a back street near 华山路 (Hua Shan Lu) Time Passage has become one of my personal favorites. Besides having ridiculously cheap beer, there are live music performances almost every night from local Chinese cover bands playing anything from classic rock to modern pop. It is difficult not to be impressed by the local talent. Bands will take the stage speaking little or no English, earning looks of skepticism from most of the first-timers and non-Chinese. The set begins with a strange adaptation of a song everyone faintly recognizes. ‘Something in the Way’ by Nirvana, is sung in perfect English by a Chinese man completely unaware he is singing, “But it’s ok to eat fish, because they don’t have any feelings.” Doubtful that he cares about the fish, or its feelings, the band finishes with an equally impressive Neil Young or John Denver song; they bow and walk off the stage to the sounds of wild applause from former skeptics.

Without a doubt, modern Chinese pop has been tremendously influenced by American culture. Simply turn on the T.V. and you will see Hong Kong rock stars, Chinese pop stars surrounded by an entourage of backup dancers, and Chinese rappers break dancing in front of brightly colored sports cars. Although the music culture resembles that of the U.S., it is also undoubtedly unique to China. These distinctions are partially due to China’s wide variety of cultures illuminated through a blend of ethnic minority music, traditional Chinese instruments and Western influence. Shanghai provides one of the most diverse and interesting stages for continually expanding original music genres. Behind the flashing neon lights of the Shanghai financial district, and down back alleys in neighborhood bars stirs talent just waiting for discovery.

-posted by Mike.

In Shanghai, at 7:30am on the 5th of November (8pm on Tuesday on the east coast of the USA), over a hundred tired but eager Americans sauntered into Malone’s Bar, an American establishment, to watch the CNN election results. We had taken the day off work to gather together as strangers to witness what many of us knew would be a historic occasion. As the bar slowly began to fill with diverse faces in an array of colors and ages, I began to shake with anticipation (perhaps from the coffee, but also from the idea that this day could change American history forever). By 8am CNN was gearing up for the close of the first east coast polls, and the first projections came in amid cheers.

A young black lady in an Obama T-shirt handed out posters of the candidate while circling the bar, patting recipients on the back with a friendly, ‘good for you’ whenever someone raised their hand for a poster. In China, where racism is strong, her very existence in the city was encouraging.

A full breakfast platter was 88Rmb, an auspicious and lucky number in China, and a sign for the candidate’s performance later that day. We ate heartedly, drank tea and American coffee and watched as the results rolled in amid holograms and virtual capital pop-ups.

In my life there have been two political experiences that have made me shake with emotion and a precise fear of the unknown. The first was in 2001, when I stood outside an empty classroom wondering where the other students were before a tired and red-eyed boy filled me in on the morning’s details. The second was sitting in an over-crowded American bar on the 5th of November, 2008 when Obama was announced the victor and a stranger nearly knocked me to the floor while hugging me, his whole body shaking, tears running down his face. Men and women cried, screamed and then—there was a silence like I had never known as two years of emotion and waiting after 8 years of being embarrassed to be called an overseas American, flooded into the room and silenced us all.

After the silence returned to cheers, and then silence again, we filtered into the sunshine (by then it was nearly 1pm) and wandered around the city, bold and unafraid to be called Americans.

Obama takes Ohio!

That night at a celebration party on the Bund we were served Obamatinis and The Change has Come Cocktails with CNN in the background and a mood that was somewhat more serious than the morning, but still a tinge of excitement and unity. Even those who voted for McCain were out chatting happily about change. The change did not imply from a republican to a democrat, but from a failing sense of what it means to be American, to a reminder of what we as a country stand for.

The thing most impressed on me was the willingness, vocalized loudly and clearly, of Americans back home and abroad to work together to rebuild America. It is not, as some suspect, the worship or idolization of one man, but instead a return to the ideas that America was founded upon. I am happy that America now has an African-American president, but for me the real triumph is not that aspect, but the fact that he is a symbol for the reinvigoration of a faith most of us had lost in our country. I felt pride not in Obama, but in Americans. The person who hugged me at Malone’s that morning was a gay man whose faith is indeed in change as an American concept, not in Obama himself. That is what is unique and beautiful, and why I feel like last Wednesday is a day I will never forget, much in the same way I am unlikely to forget 9/11.

Since that emotion-charged day, I have watched as headlines across China have praised the choice of our next leader. What the Chinese admired about Americans is now returning: an unwavering faith in humanity based on principles of freedom, equality and the pursuit of happiness. Across the world we are seeing headlines of the same nature, the world is ready to be wowed once again by American idealism and American dreaming. The world wants us to exist, to live and enjoy freedoms and happiness to prove that a sort of utopia can exist on earth. Though a bit hyped up, I do believe that this I what people are looking for in our country across the pond, and what I hope we can prove by banning together and imagining ourselves responsible enough to create the future we design.

…and he wins!

Today I’m proud to say I’m an American. Something I have not said in a long, long time.

-posted by Lauren.

Traveling to Hong Kong when working for a Chinese company can prove to be a rather tiresome task. However, I have heard of several western businesses traveling in this manner. The manner in which I am asked to travel is sometimes completely beyond my understanding but it always is becomes a very interesting experience full of excitement, complications, and stressful situations. My company is constantly trying to “cut corners,” so to speak, and in the end spend much more money through these attempts.

Hong Kong

Usually I am asked not to fly directly to Hong Kong because it is extremely expensive. The reasons as to why flights from Shanghai to Hong Kong are considered international flights are money, the SAR (Special Authority Region) status that Hong Kong has maintained even after the 1997 turnover to China, and that China has signed a non-interference agreement with Britain / Hong Kong.

Hong Kong is politically part of China, but like other SAR and AR (Autonomous Regions) in China such as Xinjiang, Xizang (Tibet), and Inner Mongolia – which have existed independently for thousands of years, or in this case, 99 years under a treaty with Great Britain, the dissimilarities that exists between the mainland and these areas are immense. Even 11 years after the turnover, the Chinese authorities have surprisingly not intervened in Hong Kong. Besides the wide circulation and acceptance of only Hong Kong Dollars (HKD) and not Chinese RMB in most establishments, the fact that one crosses a “border” when entering and exiting Hong Kong, and that mobile phone networks from the mainland do not work or are charged international roaming fees, are solid examples of their semi-solidarity. I also believe that many Hong Kong citizens have a disenchanted or skeptical view towards the mainland. When asked about my employment with a Chinese company, many Hong Kong locals have responded, usually in perfect English, “you must be very angry and annoyed frequently while working for a Chinese company.” I will leave my response up to the interpretation of the reader.

Flying into Shenzhen is considerably less expensive than direct flights into Hong Kong. However, the land border crossing and shuttle bus back and forth can be extremely time-consuming. A shuttle bus from the Shenzhen airport arrives at the customs center near the international border crossing. All passengers have to carry all other luggage into the exit compound. After receiving some particularly annoying “foreign treatment,” you are ushered through the gate and board another bus outside the gate. This bus drives less than 10 minutes and arrives at the Hong Kong clearance compound. Once again, you have to take all of your bags off the bus and get clearance into Hong Kong. Then, you board a completely different bus and drive into Hong Kong. After almost two hours, you arrive at the destination you could have flown directly. Then, even though you have to go to a trade show near the Hong Kong airport, you have to stay in a hotel in Kowloon because it is also cheaper. After dealing with phone calls from your boss for not checking your email because the crappy hotel you stayed in doesn’t’ have internet services, you have a take the subway and walk to a bus center to take you back to the trade expo center one hour away every day.

In a poor attempt to save money, the company spent more on paying a salary while I was traveling and placing me in a hotel with no internet connection from which I could not perform my duties. This lack of foresight and logic is widespread throughout Chinese companies in my experiences. Although anecdotal, I have witnessed these events repeatedly and feel safe in generalizing, however many of these things are simply cultural. If you would like to save money by taking this route, I urge you to consider the time you are wasting while attempting to save money.

-Posted by Mike.

West Lake

We arrived in Hangzhou at 6:00am. The city is well known for its beauty, and along with Guilin is one of the most beautiful tourists spots in China. I had traveled here in 2005, my first time in China, and this city alone is what had eventually led me to return to China. The city is shrouded in everything one comes to love about China, and its history is startlingly ever present. We grabbed a cab to West Lake, the centerpiece of the city, and tightened the straps of our backpacks as we set of to circumnavigate the lake. Slightly remembering the features of the area, I set of pointing out aspects of my previous journey. We sat on the lake shore with a group of over twenty elderly Chinese and drank coffee and tea as we watched women in their nineties do tai chi while men did their morning exercises of military drills from years long passed. The elderly were surprisingly limber, and possibly in better shape than ourselves. They laughed and chatted amongst themselves while they exercised and drank their tea, and we aware that we were on the outside, looking in. I admired these old people, who were light years ahead of the American elderly who sat decaying in old folk’s homes, antisocial and full of self pity. Chinese elderly are the life of the country, they meet at night to dance in the parks with each other, and congregate every morning around the lakes to exercise and socialize. I hoped then and there that when I aged, I would age with dignity and grace like the Chinese in Hangzhou. We watched them for quite some time before the sun fully emerged, and then we set off along dragon bridges in the early morning light.

We continued our tour around the lake, sometimes losing sight of the shore as we strolled through deep woods, always keeping the lake in the distance. Emerging back on the shores, we encountered hundreds of boaters and fishers, eager to offer us a ride (for a fee, of course). The mood around the lake had shifted as the sun climbed in the sky. Younger people emerged, and with them some of the charm of the lake disappeared. Loud tourists came out of nowhere by the bus load, and we were happy that we had been there early to sense the quiet energy of the elderly. Eventually we were overrun by tours with megaphones and camera shutters snapping in our faces and decided we had had enough of tourism! We were tired of calculated trips where a lady with a bullhorn would screech into the crowd, “look how beautiful and serene the lake is. hurry. hurry. look. okay, moving on….” There is hardly anything to appreciate when one is in a crowd as massive and noisy as a Chinese tour group. We waited for the groups to pass so we could make our escape, but they did not cease. Finally we fought our way through the crowd to the nearest exit and hailed a passing cab. Exhausted and tired, we directed him to the train station where twenty minutes later we found ourselves sitting on a fast train home to Shanghai.

Hangzhou

Though it had been an amazing week on the river, we were tired and eager to be back home. It was odd thinking of our tiny apartment in Shanghai as our home, but when we walked through the door to familiar smells and fabrics, we smiled and truly realized how fortunate we were to have such a nice place, with so much security and comfort. A week sailing through poverty had made it so nothing would be taken for granted for a very long time.

-posted by Lauren.

Yellow Crane Tower

Again we were awoken at 5:00am as we passed through the final of three gorges. This last gorge was vastly different than the previous two, and we were happy that we had decided to go topside. The cliff sides were covered in lush greenery like a scene from Jurassic Park, and we took out our binoculars to watch for monkeys. After an hour the sun began to rise, and we joined the Swiss in the dining hall for boiled eggs and waterlogged rice. We continued our previous discussion of religion in Switzerland, noting that the Swiss pay taxes to the Church via the government. I pondered how un neutral this was, but decided not to point this out. We talked about neutrality for a long time, and though I had always admired the Swiss for being internally focused, I found neutrality to be a double edged sword. It protected the people, but it also meant they turned their backs on the world when it sometimes needed it. A truly confusion conundrum. After a leisurely meal the Swiss got off the boat to see a monument, we stayed on board and played cribbage overlooking the hillsides. The stop was the final day trip before the end of the cruise, but we had heard roomers that the stop was largely bullshit, another tourist trap selling plastic Olympic goods. The Swiss returned and sat with us in the windy sunshine and laughed at what a joke the last sight had been. It was a fake dragon boat race that lasted less than two minutes, but they had been forced to march at top speeds up a large hillside to see the race from afar. After a few warm beers and more discussion with the Swiss, we packed up our room and got off the boat. It had been an interesting four days, but I don’t think I would ever recommend the ‘cruise’ to anyone. At least not anyone I liked.

We boarded a bus for Yicheng, a nearby city where we would be able to buy train or bus tickets to Wuhan, and then back to Shanghai. We found Yicheng a beautifully modern and clean city that resembled, in many ways, the US mid-west. Our bus passed through a housing district of large brick mansions facing the river, and we watched, mouths agape, as the luxury passed behind us. Apparently black gold had made this village prosperous, that coupled with a constant stream of disembarking tourists had elevated the city. We rumbled towards the bus stop where we bid farewell to the Germans and the Swiss, and boarded another, more crowded bus that smelled of vomit and was full of flies. This bus would take us 5 hours to Wuhan.

Arriving in Wuhan near 21:00 we began walking aimlessly down a large street near where our bus had abandoned us. Curiously, we spotted the German couple down the road and hurried to catch up with them. They had arrived an hour earlier and had checked into a hostel down the street. We followed them to the hostel, checked in and then set about devouring a round of beers with the Germans. We took a cab to look for western food, but ended up in a Chinese buffet hall when we realized it was too late for most restaurants to be open. Returning to the hostel after a tasty meal- our first in five days- we slept soundly and awoke refreshed at 10:00, the latest we had slept since leaving Shanghai.

Yellow Crane Hill

After a nice breakfast at the hostel we went to the Yellow Crane Pagoda where, for 50Rmb one can stroll along the gardens and climb the pagoda where Li Bai had been humbled by former masters and an amazing view of the river. We spent the afternoon talking about American politics and slowly walking through the shade of the bamboo. Resting often, we felt close to the Chinese of old who had had a lifestyle of learning and growing. After the pagoda, which is a beautiful spot in Wuhan I’d highly recommend, we returned to the hostel to spend the afternoon resting in the sunshine. Mike found an abandoned guitar and he strummed songs and sang all afternoon in a cove in the hostel. I read Empire of the Sun, a gift from a Shanghai friend I had recently received for my birthday, and we whiled away the hours sipping beers and relaxing. We ate a nice hostel meal that was the largest array of foods we had seen in ages, and dined until our bellies hurt. At 17:00 the Germans appeared and we decided to share a cab to the train station. Once we arrived the Germans bought another round of beers and we chugged them on the platform and shook hands and exchanged phone numbers and emails. Traveling in china always produced friends of necessity, but this trip had been very good to us, and we adored the Swiss and German couples we had met on the trip. We boarded the night train to Hangzhou, and were amazed at the modernity we were faced with. This was the cleanest and nicest train we had ever been on, and we stayed up playing cards and drinking cheap beer until the lights were turned off and we crawled up into our top bunks and slept.

-posted by Lauren.

River boat capitan

At 5:00am I was wide awake listening to an overweight and undereducated Chinese man yell at his wife in the hallway. They screamed as loudly as possible, yet no one asked them to be quiet. I wondered if this happened in America, if someone would ask them to take their fight somewhere more isolated, and decided that they would. Moments after their doors slammed shut, the sirens went off for our wake up call and everyone was moving and yelling in the halls at once. We ate cold rice porridge, boiled eggs with fecal matter caked to the shells and pickled beans with the Swiss couple before getting off the boat and into an overcrowded bus. The bus drove ten minutes up a hill, unloaded its cargo and the driver fell asleep against the wheel. We blinked back sleep and surveyed the area. We were outside the White Emperor City, a small island the Emperor had given to his younger brother to appease him. In a massive group, we walked along listening to the tour guide point out special attractions. Falling to the back, we strayed off course and looked around at the very modern, very new ‘ancient’ city. In a far corner we found a sign saying the city was built in 2005 after archeologists found a brick foundation they thought matched the description in a fictional work of literature about the king’s brother, the White King Emperor (so named because he saw white, dragon-like smoke pouring from a hole in the ground on an island, which he called the dragon’s cave). This may or may not have been that island, and that may or may not have been a factual story about a factual emperor. Dismayed at having been lugged out here for fake ‘history’ we spent the morning checking out the view of the gorges the island’s vantage points provided. We largely ignored the ‘ancient’ buildings and avoided the crowds all together. At the top of the hill stood a lone shack under construction, we went inside and saw a few Chinese gentlemen and their girlfriends from our boat. They were looking into glass display cases and laughing. One youth had his girlfriend take a picture of him making daemon faces in front of the case. We walked over to see that the case contained human remains. A sign nearby said that in ancient times a strange people had buried their dead in hanging coffins, high in the nearby gorges. These few coffins had been removed from their lofty resting places so tourists could pose in front of them. A hold in the glass case was drilled so tourists could fill the coffins with money for luck. We were aghast that the poor dead were being treated in such a way. The worst possible death I could imagine would comprise of being a part of a disrespectful, Chinese tourist trap in a fake city. I spent the day contemplating the way Chinese think of death and dying, a near theme for the trip so far considering the previous day’s outing and now the desecrated remains of an unfortunate man.

Back on the boat we sat on the deck counting the floating shoes we passed in the water. For some reason there was an excess of shoes (possibly because the rubber soles made them float). We wondered if for every floating shoe there was a pair of sunken pants and missing, sunken shirt as well. Mike wondered if we’d pass a body. Before the words were out of his mouth we saw something floating in the water 100 yard away from the boat. As we neared we saw four pale legs sticking out of the mucky river and saw that it was a bloated and green dead pig. Naturally, we stopped counting shoes, worried we would spot something equally or more disturbing than the dead pig. We mentally made a note not to eat anymore river fish.

At eleven we ate a hearty lunch on board with the Swiss couple and talked a great deal about politics, religion and the differences between Switzerland and the US (which are vast). Both of them had been in the US before, and had opinions on things that were very intense and new, and we enjoyed our chat immensely. By noon we had to get off the boat for a long day of touring. This was the highlight of the trip, and was especially touted as one of the last cruises humans would see of these cliff sides before the dam flooded the area. We boarded a smaller boat that held roughly 100 people, and the engine splashed up water as it took off down a mini gorge. We passed through several beautiful gorges before coming to the site of the hanging coffins. Up nearly 100 yards a small wooden coffin sat nestled in a square, man made cave along a steep and sheer cliff side. We wondered how the ancient peoples had put them up there in the first place, let alone how the Chinese tourism industry had gotten several coffins down for the White Emperor City. Further down we saw a monkey playing with a twig over the water, his long furry arms surprised us as we had never seen a monkey in the wild before. He vanished before we knew we had really seen him. After several hours of intense viewing, we halted and boarded even smaller boats of 20 which we took into an even smaller gorge. This tiny gorge was full of thin waterfalls spewing white spit. The water was clearer and our boat guide sang old fishing songs as he paddled us through the gorge. After a time we returned to the larger boat and again took off through larger gorges.

The boat stopped at a complete joke of a town that had at one point been an ‘ancient relic of China town,’ meaning, an old village. Because the water level would rise for the dam they had destroyed the old village and built a new one ‘exactly like the old one’ further up the hill for tourists to see how thoughtful the government could be. We looked around at the cinder blocks and 2x4s and left in disgust. Back in the original ancient village a poor old man was probably sifting through bricks for his possessions. Back on board we sped under several bridges under construction, as older, lower bridges would soon be wiped out, and finally arrived back in town where our ship was docked.

Protesting

Instead of boarding the boat we were directed to a bus. Apparently a local troupe had a show prepared for us. We ate a quick meal with the Swiss couple before grabbing a row of seats in a tiny stadium. Twenty scantly clad Chinese dancers frolicked on stage while the men, dressed in loin clothes, bounced around in the background holding twigs. Meanwhile, a smoke machine filled the room and flashing neon lights bounced off the walls in what can only be described as the corniest thing I’ve ever seen. In a rare show of defiance, however, one song and dance routine among the pack of otherwise pointless and flashy dances, showed an old man, wife and child with her baby being forced from their tiny home by government officials. The officials pranced around the stage singing as the poor villagers gathered their belongings and cried. It was a silent, smokeless theater when the last note was sung and we all looked at each other in shock. This was the only scent of protest we had ever seen from the Chinese about the dam, and it was not in the least bit subtle. We swelled with pride for the troupe and clapped loudly at their courage for doing a show with so much criticism in it. In the final act the policeman lifted the elderly woman onto his back and forced her off stage while the man was dragged by another young man in uniform. It was chilling. We were very happy to see that there was, at least, someone else who felt the whole project was hurting more than it was helping.

Boarding the boat we fell asleep the instant our heads hit the dirty pillows. We stayed on the dock all night, listening to the water lap at the shore.

-posted by Lauren.

At 4:30 a siren sounded and I was sure the boat was sinking. I mentally ran through all the logical escape routes, noting in my mind where the life vests were stored. There had been no emergency drills, and we noticed that as dirty as the water was, if we fell in we’d probably be poisoned to death in minutes. I had not slept hardly a wink all night as we lulled back and forth in the Yangzi’s current. Not a hearty swimmer, I was worried about the possibility of making it to the closest shore before being snatched by the cold or exhaustion or fear of what I could get tangled in in the dirty water. We did not sink, and another siren went off at 5:00am indicating we should, perhaps, prepare to disembark. We were arriving at the ancient Ghost Town, the only Daoist ghost village in China. For 80Rmb a person you could freely roam the two hillsides full of abandoned buildings full of relics of an abandoned religion. The town was a tribute to death and hell. The idea was that if would could pass through the scary underworld and survive, he had been a good person in this life and thus would survive the torment of hell. We marched past neon pools of drainage and waste into a serene valley of abandoned buildings. At the top of one hill there was an empty doorway shaped like a giant dragon’s open mouth. We walked inside alone and down dark stairs where a motion sensor triggered an insane and surreal giant puppet show of flashing lights and life-sized displays of torture and hell. We quickly walked through the haunted house of Daoist hell, but after twenty minutes of giant puppets sawing each other in half, we had not found an exit. Another ten minutes of crazy lights and giant horrors and we finally passed into another hall of Chinese history stories acted out in moving statues. We were too shocked at what we had just walked through to really express any thoughts other then blank stares. Walking out into the bright sunlight we wondered if we had really just marched through hell. After walking around the town a bit more, we headed back to the boat early and beat the crowd. I took a cold shower (no hot water on the boat) and by the time I came out of the disgusting bathroom I felt dirtier than when I went in. Our room mates sat on their bunk, nearly nude, chain smoking and avoiding eye contact. I went topside where I read in the fumes of exhaust and wrote in my journal, all the while snapping pictures of the gorges and hillsides as we passed slowly by. We spent the rest of the day on board playing cards, drinking warm beer, chatting with the Swiss couple, and watching the scenery.

walking through hell

At 21:00 we stopped at a Buddhist temple for a quick trip, but decided to walk around the outside of the temple rather than go inside. This was a depressing revelation. All along the temple there were knocked down homes and piles of rubble with people sifting through debris looking for belongings or scavenging. Little children pestered us to buy rocks and oranges from them while the elderly simply sat and looked at the piles of bricks. The whole town was in piles around the temple, and the people stayed only to try to sell what little they could produce to the tourists who would overpay and then board their boat. The three gorges dam has aroused controversy across China and the world for its massive displacement of people. Reading about the project one could see the large numbers of people who would be moved, but watching them poke at piles of bricks that used to be their homes was heart wrenching. We bought oranges, and then left them on the shore for the children to find and resell, and then we boarded the boat in a sober and depressed mood. Back on board, however, we met a German couple, we thought there was only us and the Swiss on board for foreigners, but the Germans had been hiding in their room until this evening. We chatted lightly and he bought us a round of beers while he talked about his pipe factory in Canton. We ate boiled cabbage and rice with the Germans in the canteen before bed. Returning to the room we found the nearly nudes mid argument. They abruptly silenced themselves and huffed into their beds. We all slept heavily that night as we rolled further away from the depressing shores of devastation.

-posted by Lauren.