FERDINAND THE SOUTHEAST ASIAN TRACTOR

My old friend the water buffalo, it's nice to see you again! I'd recognize that U-shaped crown anywhere! I came across these two on my hike to the 'secret village' when I was in Yangshuo. My two Chinese friends just called it a 'cow', but I had to tell them that it was actually a water buffalo, and that there was a big difference. I've never actually had the chance to get to know a water buffalo, but they seem like wonderful creatures. I first became acquainted with them back in 2003 when I studied abroad in Vietnam, and now that I've reached southern China I've started to spot them here and there. They're all over Vietnam, and from what I understand they fill a very cherished roll in Vietnamese culture. There's a fabled image of a young boy playing a flute on the back of a water buffalo, and sans flute playing, it wasn't that uncommon to see. It was always one of those shots I'd attempt to take through the bus window on a bumpy road - those never turn out well. But to see a kid or two lounging on the back of one of those gentle beasts was always a pleasant sight. They seem so tender and patient, but at the same time so very strong and hardworking. Not to mention loyal and trustworthy, and of course great with kids - all admirable qualities! They may not be the life of the party, but they sure make a damn good friend. The bulls can get pretty burly, with huge rotund bodies and massive hooves, a perfect build for trudging through the mud when ploughing rice paddies - the good ol' southeast Asian tractor. If I had one there's no question I'd name it Ferdinand after the bull from the children's story Ferdinand the Bull. It's a wonderful fable that takes place in Spain, about a strapping-but-sweet young bull who gets mistaken for a savage bovine when he goes momentarily berserk after sitting on a bumblebee. This gets the attention of some matadors who are quick to tout Ferdinand as the most fierce bull in the land. His legend escalates, but when he finally gets released into the bullring, all he wants to do is sit down in the middle and ignore the taunting bullfighters. In the end he's let back out to into the pasture where can resume his pacifist ways and sit under his favorite cork tree to smell the flowers. It's a nice a tale, but it's also the story of every single water buffalo in southeast Asia. I doubt Ferdinand the Bull was translated into Vietnamese, they'd read it and be like, well duh! 

YANGSHUO COUNTRYSIDE

I was embraced by a warm hug of sunshine as I stepped out of the hostel on Sunday morning. Spring had arrived! It was the perfect day for a bike ride, so after a quick breakfast I rented an old one-speed beater and hit the road. The ride out of town provided a quick transition from urban hustle-and-bustle to bucolic wonderland, and soon I was cruising through quiet villages on a tree-lined road surrounded by brilliant rice paddies and flourishing citrus groves. It wasn't too long before I caught up to some fellow cyclists. Hello! Huan and Chimin were visiting from a neighboring province and were quick to invite me along on their adventure. Both had been to Yangshuo before and were out in search of a 'secret village' that Huan had stumbled across three years ago. Awesome. I followed my new friends on a jaunt through a charming hamlet, and when the road came to an end, we ditched our bikes and set out on foot. I felt thankful for the company as we hiked along and got to know each other, I could already tell that this day was going to be too good not to share with someone. The secret village was beautiful. It was more a patchwork of lush fields surrounded by steep mountains, but as the trail peaked and we could see down into the valley, I felt as though I'd found Shangri-La. After a stroll through the glen and a few curious looks from some hard-working farmers, we made our way back to our bikes and continued our adventure. And it was barely even noon!

For a mid-day snack we stopped by a little corner store and bought some beers (it wasn't my idea!) and some chicken feet. Chicken feet - quite the popular snack in China. These were the prepackaged variety, the kind that are suction-wrapped and available in almost every store. I've eaten chicken feet before, but I'll have to admit, it's still a little awkward for me, mostly because it takes practice. It's kind of like eating sunflower seeds, in order to become an efficient sunflower seed eater you've got to understand what's going on in your mouth - how to crack it open, get the seed out, and then dispose of the shell. Chicken feet are a little more complex. It's more like, there's the toenail, avoid that... ok, that must be a knuckle, and some cartilage... Basically I'm still trying to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to eat on a chicken foot. To most Chinese people it's second nature, but I just end up putting the thing in my mouth, giving it a soft chew, and then spitting the whole thing out again. It tastes pretty good so it's fine, I just act cool and roll with the punches, slash look like an idiot.

Anyways, it was a great snack, and soon we were on our way again. The afternoon was a dream, full of laughter and conversation, and plenty of my completely genuine but extremely enthusiastic wow's and whoa's. We were biking through postcards, everywhere I looked was photo-worthy, and not only were my friends patient with my constant photographing, but seemed thrilled to have someone along with a decent camera who could document their frolic in the countryside. Towards the end of the day when the sun was disappearing over the mountains, we rode into a valley of canola fields, jumped off our bikes, and got lost in a labyrinth of bright yellow flowers. If a glowing-white unicorn had galloped by I wouldn't have blinked an eye. With big smiles and sun-kissed faces we rode back into town as the evening approached. Part of me wanted to stay in Yangshuo and relive the day over and over again, but I had to catch a bus back to Guilin so I could hop a westbound train to Yunnan. My friends saw me to the station, and we waved goodbye to each other as the bus pulled away. I'll bookmark this little chapter as a highlight in the story of my travels. I am one lucky dude.    

YANGSHUO

It seems like every city I've been to in China has a slew of construction cranes and a countless number of new high-rises going up. Luckily this was not the case in Yangshuo. But no matter how much it grows, nothing will be able to compete with it's magnificent karstic skyline. Towering over the Li River and dominating the middle of the old-town is Green Lotus Peek, and a half hour after I'd jumped off the boat from Guilin I was scaling it's precipitous slopes. At first I was surprised at how unexploited it was, considering it's accessibility, but two minutes into the climb I realized why. Let's just say that I doubt many people would visit the Empire State Building if they had to take the stairs. The trail was steep and muddy, and at times I had to scramble up boulders and pull myself up little cliffs by ropes that had been jimmy-rigged to small trees. It was worth it though, the views were absolutely amazing. The thought of staying for the sunset crossed my mind, but descending the peak after dark would've been a sure-fire kamikaze mission. Anyways, I wanted to be in good shape for the following day's bike ride into countryside...

TOURIST ATTRACTION

Not only am I a tourist in China, but I'm also an occasional tourist attraction. It could be that 'goofy looking white dude' is on some sort of List of Things to Photograph While on Vacation, but whatever the reason, I've made my way into a multitude of Chinese photo albums. It was pretty sporadic early on, a few people here and there would politely stop me and ask for a photo together, but the first time it got a little silly was in Zhangjiajie National Forest Park. Don't let the unpeopled photos I posted fool you, behind me were hoards of other tourists all vying for the same shot, and on more than one occasion I got caught up in the mix. It was like a domino effect, once somebody would ask to take a photo with me, every other passerby would want their turn, and all of a sudden I'd be backed up against the railing with a mindless grin on my face, waiting for the next tourist to nestle up to me and flash a peace sign for the camera. It happened quite a bit in Fenghuang as well. Once while I sitting by the river eating a snack, a guy quickly sat down and put him his arm around me. Before I knew what was happening his friend had snapped a photo and they were on their way. I'm sure that one turned out great considering I had a mouthful of dumpling and a confused look on my face. And never mind the countless people I've caught out of the corner of my eye, discreetly trying to snap photos of me on their cell phones. Little did they know that I was also discreetly striking a pose. Occasionally I like to hold the pose for a few seconds, and then quickly jerk my head around and stare straight into the camera, giving them a quirky little smirk with one eyebrow raised that forces them to awkwardly shift their focus on whatever uninteresting thing I happen to be standing next to. Anyways, on the boat ride down the Li River I finally got someone to use my camera for one of these photo shoots, unfortunately I think he caught me telling him that he might need to switch to autofocus. It turned out ok, although apparently I missed the memo to wear red that day.

THE LI RIVER

After a couple of nights in Guilin I took off for Yangshuo on a boat down the Li River. I would have opted for a small bamboo raft had the weather been permitting, but since it was cloudy and cold I ended up on a large boat full of Chinese tourists. It was a pleasant cruise and the views were amazing. A group of us went in on a big family meal, which was great except that I kept wanting to excuse myself to run outside and snap some photos. Traveling by boat is one of my favorite ways to get around, plus, arriving on a dock is way better than pulling into a bus terminal or train station. It's hard not to feel relaxed after a nice float, and as the boat ride ended and I waltzed down the riverbank into town, I couldn't help but to think that my excursion to Yangshuo was getting off to a good start.

DRAGON'S BACKBONE RICE TERRACES

One day I took a trip with some fellow travelers to the highlands outside of Guilin for a hike around Dragon's Backbone Rice Terraces. The Zhuang, one of the largest ethnic minority groups in China, started agriculturally sculpting the mountains around 700 years ago. Some of their villages are still isolated, and it was a long and windy drive up a beautiful river gorge to our destination. It was an overcast and misty day, but luckily the clouds were aloft, providing us with clear views of the valley. From the village below, the mountainsides were muted and dim, but as we hiked up, overcoming terrace after terrace, the scenery started to transform. Like twirling open horizontal blinds, the increase in elevation brightened the valley with a gradual shift from dull brown to a vibrant striped green. For lunch we stopped at an inn on the mountainside. A woman prepared our delicious meal with a little baby strapped to her back and told us that the rice had come from the paddy that lay just outside the doorstep. I don't think I've ever eaten rice from that close to its source! 

GUILIN

Spring arrived overnight on my twelve-hour train ride south from Fenghuang to Guilin. I'd been looking forward to some warmer weather, and although it was still chilly with a light drizzle, the vivid greenery was enough to quench my vernal craving. Traveling in China is a first for me, but in entering Guangxi Province I was returning to a geographic landscape that I've come to know and love. From Halong Bay, Vietnam, to Vang Vieng, Laos, and on down to Krabi, Thailand and the islands of the Andaman Sea - one trait that many of my favorite destinations share is a stunning karstic topography - steep and dramatic limestone mountains caused by erosion from naturally acidic water. I may have been new to Guilin, but much of what I saw was wonderfully familiar. On my first day I explored the city, wandered into a park, and hiked to the top of a little mountain where I caught sweeping views of the city.

FENGHUANG NIGHT

Here's a little photo afterthought to the last post. Fenghuang - a timeworn river town by day, a party on stilts by night!

FENGHUANG

An old river town stuck in time! That's what I'd heard about Fenghuang, and I was excited to spend a couple of days there. The bus ride from Zhangjiajie was a good five hours, and despite the bus operator's one-hand-on-the-horn-at-all-times-passing-every-vehicle-at-high-speeds-on-curvy-narrow-roads driving, the trip was quite enjoyable. I grabbed a seat by a window in the back of the bus, and soon found myself surrounded by a group of chipper young women heading to Fenghuang for the weekend. They were quick to realize that I was incapable of conversation, but were more than happy to share their bounty of tasty snacks with me - although I passed on the chicken feet. A lot of the snacks were soon lost, along with their liveliness, as a couple of them were forced to hang their heads out the window and paint the side of the bus as a result of severe car sickness. Luckily I was un-phased, and in an attempt to escape the suddenly altered mood of my present company, I plugged in my headphones and let the passing scenery sweep me away. The road cut through valleys for most of the drive, hugging hillsides, dipping down into small villages, and criss-crossing rivers. The stair-stepped agriculture became more dramatic, with an occasional terrace of bright-yellow rapeseed flowers adding vibrant streaks to the mountainside patchwork. The bus got caught up in some weekend markets while passing through some villages, and while the bus driver continued to lay on the horn, I felt thankful for the slow motion drive-through and the chance to take in some of the bustling small-town life. The road was my Travel Channel, the bus window my TV screen, and the five hour special on rural China was fascinating! A lot of times, traveling becomes a series of dots on a map of the places you've visited. But if you can connect the dots with an interesting journey, if the lines in between also tell a story, then the voyage becomes richer, and you can gain a better understanding of where you are. Anyways, the bus ride was very enjoyable, although I can't say that my pale-faced co-passengers would've agreed, I'm sure they were psyched for it to end.

Fenghuang was larger than I thought it would be - not a big surprise in China. It happens to me every time when I arrive in a new place here - I walk out, glance at the simple map in the guidebook, look up, spin a few circles, look back at the map, and realize I have no idea where I am. But I decided to hoof it, and with the help of a few curious students I was able to find the old part of town and a cheap place to stay. After checking in I set out to find some food and drink and explore the old town lining the river. It definitely wasn't what I expected. The rustic stilted houses were there, lopsidedly perched above the water, but the scene surrounding it was absolutely blown out with tourists! I guess I felt a little deceived, I had imagined I would fall off the bus and stumble into a quaint little village. But that was not the case, and the unanticipated atmosphere kind of put me on edge. One thing I'd heard about Fenghuang was that there was absolutely no English. This I found to be true, and now that I've been in China for a while, this was also not a surprise. But for some reason I was thinking that 'no English' was synonymous with 'untouched'. I should have known better. I quickly found a bar with outdoor seating and posted up along the river, I needed to take it all in and reevaluate my surroundings. The menu consisted of snack food (great, more snacks), so I ordered some popcorn and a beer. The beer, or should I say beer-flavored water, was a weak 2.5%, so after downing one, I ordered another along with a tumbler of Johnny Walker. It was Saint Patty's Day after all, and now that I think about it, the river appeared to be slightly green, how inadvertently appropriate. The Johnny Walker came out neat, in a rather large glass almost filled to the brim. Last time I checked Johnny Walker was not sweet with a hint of caramel, but whatever it was, it was strong, and after a few swigs and a couple of deep breaths, I started to feel a little more relaxed. After paying my bill I stumbled back to the hostel to grab my jacket, and then, realizing I was short on cash, went out to find an ATM. The first one was broken, the next two didn't accept my card, and when I finally found one that worked, all I wanted to do was head back to the hostel and call it a night. My first day in Fenghuang and I didn't even snap a photo! Luckily the next day turned out to be a little more redeeming.

It was overcast and damp when I stepped outside the next morning. In an attempt to get off the main drag I ducked into some small residential alleyways that quickly took me up onto a hill overlooking the river. There's nothing like getting up onto a highpoint to help you gain perspective on your surroundings; I always try and do this if the geography is permitting. From there I could see down over the old town and was able to map out a route for the day. I was off to a good start! The fluvial charm that I had overlooked the day before due to the overbearing tourists, was quick to reveal itself once I got back down to the water, and it wasn't long before Fenghuang had won me over. The river was low due to some construction upstream, and an on-and-off drizzle freckled the stagnant water throughout the day. I took my time strolling the banks, crossing back and forth on the multitude of bridges that spanned the water. Life on the river very much revolved around the burgeoning tourism, but the way in which it maintained it's existence was reminiscent of days gone by. The banks were lined with people doing daily chores, from rinsing produce for local restaurants to washing clothes and linens for the family-run inns. Bamboo boats ushered people up and down the river through a gauntlet of old stilted buildings that seemed on the verge of toppling into the water below. It's days like this when I enjoy traveling alone the most, when I can just post up and watch life unfold in front of me.

As daylight faded, so did the timelessness that makes Fenghuang unique, and with nightfall came the universal qualities of the tourist nightlife. Behind the rustic facade of the ram-shackled stilt houses were a slew of bars and night clubs, each fitted with bright lights and competing sound systems that volleyed rounds of bass across the river. I wouldn't be surprised if you could see Fenghuang from outer space at night - it's that bright. The lights were quite a spectacle, but after one more quick loop up and down the river, I headed back to the hostel and called it a night. It had been a wonderful day, and I was glad that Fenghuang had been redeemed of its bogus first impression. I could see myself heading back there again someday, although next time I think I may jump out in one of those towns I passed along way in. 

ZHANGJIAJIE NATIONAL FOREST PARK

Shanghai was awesome, but feeling the need to see some of China's natural wonders, I decided I would head to Hunan Province and explore Zhangjiajie National Forest Park. I slept hard on the overnight train to Changsha, and at seven in the morning found myself doing another train station shuffle with a severe case of bedhead as I searched for the connecting bus to Zhangjiajie City. After a few laps in front of the station with a clueless look on my face, some guy finally took pity on me and offered some guidance after I pointed out the characters for Zhangjiajie in the guidebook - because I definitely didn't know how to say it at the time. I may not speak or read Chinese, but I seem to make it work! The four-hour bus ride took me into a part of China that I hadn't seen yet, revealing a greener landscape, with smaller towns, rolling hills, and terraced agriculture. It was a nice change of scene. 

After a night in Zhangjiajie City, I woke up to some rather dreary weather, and it didn't change much on the forty-minute bus ride up to the park's entrance. Zhangjiajie National Forest Park is known for its towering quartz-sandstone pillars, created after years of erosion, and as I jumped off the bus and entered the park I started to see them looming in the mist. It was one of those moments where all of a sudden I was hit with a burst of excitement, like a kid in a toy store, I started to feel overwhelmed and almost didn't know where to look. I had to be careful not to hurt myself walking around with my mouth wide open and my nose pointed up at the sky, but then I realized that it might not be a bad thing since seeing the park from the valley floor by stretcher would probably be pretty cool. The crowds were heavy around the park's entrance, but I was quick to find a path less taken, and soon I was all alone, hiking through a dense forest in a city of rock skyscrapers. 

The hostel where I was staying was a couple hours in, so my plan was to head there, drop off my bag, and then set out to explore. It didn't look too far away on the map, but in vertical feet it was another story, and after an hour or so on the valley floor I started to climb up into the clouds, literally. The hike was steep, and the mist got thicker with every step. The trail crossed the road about fifty yards from the hostel, and if the fog hadn't been so blinding it would have been an obvious find, but because I couldn't see anything, I made a wrong turn and got lost for a while. When I finally found the hostel, I ditched my bag and set out to escape the fog. But I couldn't. I caught a free shuttle across the park hoping it would improve, but the blanket only got heavier, as did my spirits. I was bummed. I could almost feel these geologic behemoths lurking in the clouds, watching me. And not being able to see them made me curse Mother Nature for her selfishness. I gave up after a while and returned to the hostel where I met a Canadian named John, the only other white guy I came across in the entire park. We said hello to each other, and then just shook our heads in defeat. The fog had trumped all that day.

The next morning wasn't much better, but if anything I thought I could get a good hike in before I left the park. I walked down the road a ways and then made my way into the forest on a trail that followed the edge of cliff. After a while I came across some steps that led down to a lookout and decided I would take a photo. I thought it'd be a good depiction of my experience - a few tree branches overhead and a little observation deck below, perfectly framing a canvas of white haze. But at the very moment I was taking out my camera, it happened... the curtain was lifted! Here I was thinking Mother Nature was being greedy, but it ends up she was just waiting for the perfect reveal. It was amazing how quickly it happened, and then how suddenly I was hit by a wave of chills. Natural environments like that always seem to warp my sense of depth, and having been denied the view until that very moment, I almost couldn't make sense of the vast landscape that lay before me. I almost felt like I could reach out and touch the opposing precipice. It was dizzying. 

The rest of the hike was amazing. The path exposed vista after vista of an otherworldly metropolis of granite and sandstone towers, with streets made of twisted rivers and lush forests resting thousands of feet below. Look at the picture on the right, it almost looks like it's floating! It's easy to guess what 2009 blockbuster found inspiration here for it's unearthly backdrop. The hike eventually took me back down to the valley floor, where I strolled along a river and shopped for the perfect photograph. By the end of the day the fog had returned, stealing back the views and leaving me thankful for all that I had seen. I left the park and caught a bus back to Zhangjiajie City, and it was well after dark by the time I checked into my hostel. The girl behind the front desk noticed the big smile on my face and stated that I was happy. I quickly agreed and then immediately broke into an animated pantomime of my adventure in the park. I went to bed tired and happy that night. All I have is this little collage to share, but it doesn't do any justice, you really had to be there. And if you do ever go, I suggest waiting until you get to the top before you open your eyes.

SHANGHAI PERSONALS

On Sunday I went for a stroll with Mac and his girlfriend Rebecca through People's Square, which is kind of like the Central Park of Shanghai. On our walk we came across what I learned was a weekly Sunday gathering, where older, and apparently slightly concerned parents, get together and try and score dates for their single adult children. They do this by hanging up little stat sheets on clothes lines, creating a wall of personal adds for other parents to peruse. I was surprised at how plain most of them looked, barely any had pictures, and a lot of them were just simple forms that had been filled out. But the place was packed! People were squeezed in, taking notes, and swapping info. Matchmaking is done in all sorts of ways these days, but I thought this was an interesting approach. Hey mom, why don't you head down to the park today and find me a soulmate!? 

SHANGHAI

With Zhengzhou and the Shaolin Temple checked off my list, I took off for Shanghai! My friend Mac, who I taught English with in Thailand has been living in Shanghai for the last two years and was kind enough to put me up for a few days. Having felt completely lost in the English-free city of Zhengzhou, I arrived in Shanghai feeling as though I'd just resurfaced back in the western world. I could probably live in Shanghai and never learn Chinese. I think some people do. On our first night we went out in a neighborhood called the French Concession - first to a sports bar where I ate nachos and pizza, and then to a brewery where I drank a tasty draught IPA. Don't worry, I also got my fair share of delicious Shanghai style cousine while I was there, including some explosive soup dumplings that literally blew up when I bit into them - xiao long bao, more like xiao long BLAOW! I got a great taste of Shanghai, from the sweeping, modern Pudong skyline, to the old but rejuvenated alleyways of Tianzifang - it was one of those cities that I could almost picture myself living in.

SHAOLIN TEMPLE

My plan after Pingyao was to make my way towards Shanghai - from an ancient walled-city to a modern metropolis!  After discovering that the train ride was going to be awfully long, I decided to break up the voyage with a two day layover in the city of Zhengzhou. From there I could take a day trip into the surrounding mountains and visit one of China's most famous Zen Buddhist temples and the birthplace of Shaolin kung fu - the legendary Shaolin Temple! I don't know how many kung fu movies I've watched in my life, but it's enough that I started to feel really excited about this added detour. The train to Zhengzhou got me in a little after dark and spat me out into a city of two million, surrounded by tall buildings, neon lights, and not a lick of English. I eventually found the cheap little hotel that was listed in the guidebook even though I couldn't read any of the signs, but was turned away at the front desk when they handed me a worn piece of paper announcing that they didn't accept foreigners anymore because their hotel rating was too low. Interesting. I wandered back into the square and spun a few circles. Feeling lost and totally out of my element, I found myself being drawn to the one thing in sight that looked familiar, the ubiquitous golden arches! I could see at least three different McDonald's from where I was standing, so I caved in, bought a chicken sandwich, and reevaluated my situation. I ended up finding a place close by that was a little more than I'd like to pay, but at that point I just wanted to put down my bag and get comfortable. 

The next morning I went to the bus station to buy a ticket to the Shaolin Temple. Since there was no English anywhere and probably twenty ticket windows, I just went up to the one with the shortest line and said "Shaolin Temp-oh". I know that 'temp-oh' is not 'temple' in Chinese, but that's how I'd heard Chinese people say 'temple' in English. I learned this technique when I was living in Thailand. There was a big mall down the road from my apartment called Future Park - that was it's name, it was in English. But whenever I would jump into a taxi and head to the mall, no matter how many times I said 'Future Park' in perfect English, the taxi driver wouldn't have a clue as to what I was saying until I pronounced it 'Fyoo-cha Pahhk'. Anyways, I managed to get a bus ticket to the Shaolin Temple. I guess at the time I wasn't exactly sure if I had, but once I boarded the minibus and saw that they were playing Lord of the Wu Tang starring Jet Li on the little TV in the front, I was pretty sure I was heading in the right direction. 

It was a two hour bus ride up into the mountains and on the way up I found myself surrounded by a group of Korean high school students who were studying in Beijing for the year. Feeling a little confused about exactly where I was going, the group of students and their teacher asked me if I wanted to join them for the day. Traveling solo is great, but it can also be lonely at times, obviously - so I was happy to accept the invitation and join the group. Our visit to the Shaolin Temple ended up being part of a big tour. Which isn't a bad thing, but normally I like to take my time exploring a place, wander about at my own speed, and perhaps try to snap some photos without feeling rushed. I managed to take a few pictures, but a lot of the time my new teacher friend would excitedly borrow my camera and have me pose for a picture with his students. It was fine. Anyway, it ends up that the Shaolin Temple has become something like a kung fu Disney Land. It's still an active temple, but it's popularity has transformed it into a moneymaker. Built up around the temple are a handful of martial arts academies, and the entire walk up to the temple was lined by fields and courtyards full of young kung fu students, fervently training. I could have easily stood around and watched all day, but instead we were rushed up and into an auditorium to take in a quick staged performance.  Much of the day was like this, dictated by a tour guide and pushed along in a muddle of tourists. There were a lot of things I missed out on, I didn't even make it to the Forest of Pagodas! But to be honest, I was distracted most of the time by my new companions. The students were great, kind and curious, and very much young teenagers. It was like smaller cultural experience within a larger one, a microcosm of Korean adolescence on a visit to one of China's most acclaimed temples.

We left the temple in late afternoon and returned to Zhengzhou, and once we got back into town they invited me out to dinner. I finally parted ways with the group around 10 o'clock, after a barrage of photos and a round of hugs. It had been a great day! My trip to the Shaolin Temple hadn't quite turned out as I'd expected, but to quote Paul Theroux, "I sought trains; I found passengers".

CHINESE FUNERAL

I came across a bit of a hoopla one morning in Pingyao as I made my way towards the center of town and the old City Tower. What I usually do in a situation like that is just sit back and observe, but it actually took a while before I realized that it was a funeral procession that I was seeing. For one, the upbeat and lively music threw me off. Crammed off to the side of the narrow street there was a band set up, plugged into an ear-splitting sound system. There was a keyboardist, a guy hammering away on an electric drumkit, a couple of dudes playing symbols, and a few others playing funny looking wind instruments into microphones. It was quite the ensemble. The guy in the background in the picture on the right was playing some kind of high-pitched reeded horn instrument, he seemed to be the leader of the group and his melody carried the tune. It's moments like that that make me I wish I were an ethnomusicologist! The music provided the soundtrack for a procession of vehicles that passed under the City Tower. I later found out that the guy with the interesting headdress in the upper left picture was the son of the man who had passed away. He was facilitating the arrangement of huge bouquets of fake flowers that were being placed on trucks as they drove by.  I followed the parade away from the town center, it was long, and eventually snaked it's way towards the city walls and exited town at the lower west gate. Away from the loud and peppy music, the march felt a little more somber, more like a funeral.  It was a sad day in Pingyao, but I was happy to be alive.

LITTLE EMPEROR

My sister lives in the historic town of Gettysburg, and luckily I was able to spend quite a bit of time there with her this last fall. One of the things I always tried to convince her and her friends to do with me was to go into one of those touristy photo studios where you get dressed up in Civil War garb and pose for an old-timey sepia-tinted photograph. I thought it'd be fun, but we never got around to it. In Pingyao I came across the Chinese version of the old-timey photo shoot. On the main street, in the middle of the town, with the old City Tower looming behind, a little boy dressed as an emperor posed for a picture with his mother and grandmother at his side.  It was pretty cute, although just a little anachronistic with all the modern-day foot traffic in the background.  If I ever get back to Gettysburg and partake in one of those photo shoots, I'll make sure to try and get one with my cell phone at my ear.

CHINESE CHESS

I see a lot of old guys huddled around Chinese chessboards here. It reminds of Portsmouth Square in San Francisco's Chinatown. I used to go there for lunch sometimes during work, and the park was always packed with clusters of old Chinese men sitting around playing Chinese chess. I was always surprised at how much of a spectacle each game was, and now I see that it's the same way in China. Maybe I should try and learn while I'm here. I'm sure if I sat down to play I'd draw a big crowd just based on the fact that I'm not an old Chinese dude.

PINGYAO CITY WALLS

One day I walked halfway around Pingyao on top of the historic 600 year old city walls. From up above I could look out over the town and peek down into the traditional courtyard residences that sat along the base of wall. The three kids in the middle photo were the only people I passed along the way.  Traveling around China during the winter has been wonderful, the crowds are sparse, although I wonder how things will look and feel come spring. But right now I'm enjoying the drab earth and winter fog, especially in places like Pingyao where it only seems fitting for the peaceful and timeworn mise en scène of the old city. 

PINGYAO

After a short stay in a Xi An, and a nice visit with the Terracotta Warriors, I jumped on an overnight train to Pingyao. Pingyao is an ancient walled city. There are a lot of walled cities in China, but this place is like a time warp!  The town could be described as dilapidated but in the most charming sense - dusty lantern-lined cobblestone streets, timeworn grey-brick buildings, and so much texture and character it's like a sensory overload.  The people are a perfect fit; the community is lively, full of old courtyard residences, small shops, and artists selling their work on the street. Piles of old brick can be found in every alley, on hand for any patchwork on the decaying architecture.  The old City Tower stands in the center of town and straddles the main street running north to south.  It's a pretty small town, easy to cover in a day or two, and wonderful to explore by foot or bicycle.  I think this might be the China that everyone pictures China to look like...

THE TERRACOTTA WARRIORS

The first emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang, started building his tomb when he was thirteen years old.  By the time he was laid to rest, his transition into the afterlife was pretty plush. His tomb, which was almost like a smaller version of his imperial palace, also included a ceramic army of around 8,000 life-sized men, built to protect him in his afterlife. The Terracotta Warriors! A lot of the army is still being excavated, and it seems as though it will be a long work in progress. Not only are they carefully being unearthed, but they are also being pieced together little by little, as it seems the entire army was defeated in a battle against some angry peasants. They were no match during the uprising, and all of their weapons were snatched right out of their hands!  Some army that was!  But really though, for a fake army, it's pretty sweet. Every single soldier is unique, like snowflakes, not a single one is alike. The dress varies depending on the rank, the higher ranking ones tend to be a little fatter, some are taller than others, and every single face is different! I checked to see if the guys up front looked a little more scared; they didn't. But I did spot one with the some really cool facial hair - in the top left picture, a huge mustache, some massive sideburns, and a soul patch!  Apparently there's also one that people think looks like Yao Ming, however, he's not seven feet tall, but he was holding a basketball...  

XI AN

After a week in Beijing I took a night train to Xi An. Beijing is massive, so for some reason I was expecting Xi An to feel a little smaller, but with six-million people it was just another metropolis.  There's a Wal-Mart in Xi An, along with every other western chain.  But there's also an old city wall that still remains intact, and runs a thirteen mile ring around the central part of town.  Xi An has spilled and sprawled outside of the city walls, and even though the center of town is dominated by modern buildings, big banks, and shopping malls, there are still  charming old neighborhoods with small walking streets and bustling markets.  You can also get up on top of the wall and circumnavigate the entire city.  One cold and misty morning I went up and took a stroll, it was so much more calm up above the city streets, a quick and easy escape from the madness below.  Exploring Xi An was pretty cool, but the real reason I went there was to visit the Terracotta Warriors...

HUTONG

On my layover in Seattle, heading to Beijing, I realized that I hadn't figured out where I was going to stay upon arrival. Depending on where I'm flying, and when I'm getting in, I'll occasionally just figure it out when I land.  But Beijing is big, I was going to be getting in at night, and from what I'd heard the average cab driver doesn't speak a lick of English. I'd picked up a Lonely Planet guidebook the day before so I flipped through it and found a place located close to the Forbidden City that seemed pretty cool. Twelve hours later I was sliding into the back of cab in Beijing, heading off into the city to find the hostel. The cab driver knew the general area of where I was staying, but had to stop and ask for directions a few times once we got in towards the Forbidden City. Eventually he pulled into a little gas station and got out of the car. I looked out to see where he was going and realized that he was signaling for me to follow him. When I got out of the car I saw that he was pointing me down a dark little street.  I grabbed my bag, paid the cab driver, and after receiving some animated hand gestures on how to navigate the alleyway, I marched off into the labyrinth. A few steps in and the racket coming off the busy street behind me became muffled, I could hear my every footstep. The lighting was dim, but gave off a warm glow.  I'd just been dumped off at a gas station alone to tread down a dark alley, but for some reason I felt completely safe. After a few wrong turns and a little backtracking I finally arrived at my destination. City Walls Courtyard House has been converted into a hostel out of one of Beijings traditional courtyard-style residences. These communal living spaces consist of little walled-in one-story homes that all face a shared courtyard. Pieced together these courtyard residences create a massive network of tiny and intimate alleyways called hutong. Every hutong is full of little doorways that open up into the courtyard residences, most of them are red, some are more elaborate than others, and all of them seem to have at least a few bicycles lined up just inside the entrance. The old part of Beijing is full of these neighborhoods, and I've had a wonderful time getting lost and exploring these old traditional mazes.  

POETRY OR PENMANSHIP?

While strolling the grounds of the Summer Palace, I came across a few men writing calligraphy on the sidewalks with large sponge brushes dipped in water. A few days earlier I'd passed an old man in a little city park doing the same thing. He was sharing his brush with a younger man and they were taking turns writing on the ground, using the tiled concrete as a guideline. I stopped to watch, and after a while he offered me the brush. When I politely refused, he smiled and wrote something for me on the ground. I hope it was nice. I think it was. He smiled afterwards. I came across it again at the Summer Palace, and as you can see by the picture, I wasn't the only one who stopped to watch. I wondered whether people were admiring the penmanship, or if it was more about the content of his writing. Was it poetry?  I think it had to do more with the calligraphy and the art of his writing. It was probably a little of both. Either way, I think it's awesome, and I realized that there's not much of an equivalent in the US. Do they even teaching cursive handwriting in school these days? It's probably been replaced with classes on smartphone thumb typing. I guess I've got some cool fonts on my computer.  

THE SUMMER PALACE

Beijing has numerous parks, gardens, and temples, and the Summer Palace was one of my favorites. I went there on a frosty and foggy morning in the middle of the week. There were quite a few people there, and like the other attractions I'd been to in Beijing, most of them were Chinese tourists or locals.  I'm guessing the place gets packed in the spring and summer. The Summer Palace is built up around Kunming Lake and the hill overlooking the water is covered with paths, gardens, and temples. We had to keep moving to stay warm, but I could imagine this park being a wonderful place to spend the day when the weather is nice.