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March 27, 2011

Amlapura

After 1 pool dive, 6 ocean dives, 4 quizzes, 1 exam, and numerous breaths underwater, I received my PADI Open Water Scuba Certification, and was ready for my next adventure. I wasn’t expecting the next adventure to come in the afternoon following my last dive. This was the afternoon that I hopped on the back of the motorbike with Dive Master Ketut and took off towards Amlapura. As soon as we exited Tulamben, the atmosphere surrounding the road and the vibe from the people felt more natural and more authentically Balinese. During our trip we stopped for a late lunch at a place run by some of Ketut’s friends and I tried some Balinese cuisine along with an Avocado smoothie. I was skeptical about a savory smoothie at first, but Ketut had one, and I was very pleasantly surprised.

Motorbike — Katut and I on his motorbike

Motorbike view — The view from Ketut's motorbike

As if riding on the back of Ketut’s bike wasn’t adventure enough, soon after we started, it started to rain. Luckily, because of the humidity and warmth, I was never cold, but little rain droplets hitting my arms and legs at 40 km/hr is not a completely painless experience. When we got to our first destination, the Water Palace, where the last king of Karangasem used to vacation, the rain had stopped and I explored the grounds of this Palace, which had ornate water ponds where most palaces might have gardens. After lunch, we continued on to the Water Garden, the spot where the king and his family would venture for day trips, and I jumped in one of the pools that was said to contain the equivalent of holy water and should bring me good luck.

water palace — The Water Palace in Amlapura, Bali

Before heading back, I purchased a durian, a type of fruit native to Indonesia that looks almost like a spiky pineapple. The edible part is the fleshy area around the seeds. I had heard that the durian can give off a very strong smell, and I later had the opportunity to experience said strength for myself when I left the durian in my room for a while. When I returned, the smell in the room was overwhelmingly strong. I then learned that in some cities, the taxi drivers will not allow passengers to carry a durian because of its strong smell. It had the texture and taste of a slightly sour banana. After realizing the smell was coming from the durian, I promptly placed it directly outside my room for safe-keeping.

March 27, 2011

Tulamben and the USAT Liberty

Tulamben is a small town in Bali built around a “major” highway, and the town extends about one kilometer. The air is quiet and still and yet there is still an excitement in the town for scuba diving. People come here from all over, and especially Australia, to dive. While in Tulamben, I learned to dive with an Australian family, I had breakfast every day with a nice couple from Sweden, and I bumped into the same German group of girls a couple times on the town’s only street. Although only there for five days, maybe because of the smallness of the town and maybe because of the friendliness of the people, I truly felt at home. I met a local named Gada from a restaurant called Sandya that had free wifi, so I usually ended my days here, whether for dinner, dessert, or just a drink. I made friends with one of the dive masters, Ketut, from Tulamben Wreck Diving and we spent an afternoon together touring around the local area on his motorbike.

big fish

Side Note: Birth order in Bali determines one’s first name. Wayan is the name of the firstborn child, Made for the second, Nyomar for the third, Ketut for the fourth, and then start back at Wayan or at least a derivative of Wayan. This, predictably, can make things a bit complicated because it means that more than 1 out of 4 Balinese will be named Wayan. The first person I met at Tulamben Wreck Divers was Big Made (pronounced “Ma-day”), then there was Boss Wayan, Dive Instructor Wayan, Dive Master Made, Ubud hotel Staffer Made, Ubud Hotel Manager Wayan, and so on. Adding adjectives before and after their names becomes critical.

Back to the town of Tulamben, it became a Scuba divers destination because of the sunken ship, the USAT Liberty. Although USAT might sound like some standardized admissions test or aptitude test, it actually stands for United States Army Transport. The ship was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine during World War II in 1942. Later, in 1963, a volcanic eruption moved the ship off the beach and into the water where it is now a popular dive site. Although I didn’t find any treasure, diving in and around the wreckage is awe-inspiring as coral and sea life has attached itself to almost every available surface. Big fish, small fish, red fish, blue fish, and more. I’d be more specific with the fish names and less like Dr. Seuss, but I honestly don’t know which fish is which.

March 21, 2011March 21, 2011

Destination: Rafflesia

The destination was Rafflesia, and the journey was wet. Rafflesia isn’t a town, it isn’t a historic site, and it isn’t the name of a river or peak. Rafflesia is a parasitic flowering plant found in southeast Asia on the Malay Peninsula, Borneo, Sumatra, and the Philippines, and the only part of the plant that is visible outside of its host is the five-petaled flower. I came to Malaysia looking for quality jungle time, and the opportunity to witness a rare flower presented a novel destination for a jungle hike.

With the sun still shining, I get picked up from Father’s Guest House in the Cameron Highlands. While most other trekkers leaving from my hostel are getting picked up by 10-seater mini-buses, coming up the hill to the hostel, I see a what looks like a military grade transport vehicle ready to go over any terrain. This presents two options: one is that the truck is for the effect, which it clearly had on me, and two is that we might actually need something so robust. I jump in the back and am greeted by who would end up being my Cameron Highlands family. There is such a strong group camaraderie from the very beginning that we only reluctantly take the front seat and leave the conversation happening in back.

After visiting an Orang Asli village and receiving a blowpipe demonstration, we pile back into our beast truck and soon learn why it is in fact such a beast. We begin to drive up a dirt road with bamboo obstacles, pot holes, and grooves so big that even this truck finds difficulty advancing from time to time. Because the back is set up as two sideways facing benches, there is a lot of sliding, bouncing, and nudging that happens. If the group hadn’t bonded before, this undoubtedly would have brought us both literally and figuratively closer together. We arrive at the trail head, are given headbands made from leaves, apply a little extra bug repellent, and naively start on our way with the driver’s departing words being to remember to smell the Rafflesia flower.

The weather is still comfortable although a little less sunny, and the path is relatively wide with the occasional puddle to hop and tree to duck under. Conversations remain vibrant as I learn worrying tips about my upcoming Himalayan Mountain Trek from a pair who just came from Nepal. Soon, it starts to drizzle, but because of the humidity and the exertion needed for the hike, the water feels great. We heard about a stream crossing that we would encounter, and pass over it relatively easily with a lot of assistance from our two guides. Afterwards, the rain starts to pick up a little, and our leaf headbands are replaced by ponchos and rain jackets. The views from the trail are stunning as they include dense rain forest, occasional waterfalls, and vast Malaysian landscapes. Meanwhile, the rain can no longer be called a drizzle as it continues to gain. The rhythm the rain creates hitting the top canopy of the forest and then eventually my head sets a beat for me as I walk. Just when I’m getting used to the rain, we learn that our first stream crossing was only practice for a later river crossing. The rocks through the river are only slightly visible above the rush of the current, and again with the help of the guides, I make it over with little issue. The group, however, did experience a couple slips and splashes. At this point, the beads of water falling down the side of my face may be sweat or rain.

Not long after the river, the guides lead us off the trail and up a steep hill, which only feels steeper because the rain has made the mud challengingly slick. Always reaching for the next tree trunk, branch, or rock to hold on, we slowly transverse our way up while slipping more than occasionally. Finally, with our clothes wet and muddy, our hands soar from gripping on whatever was available, and our expectations about this flower growing, we see for what we traveled all this way. We find the famous Rafflesia flower, which blooms for only about 5 days and can be as large as a meter in diameter. We made it. We create an assembly line of walking up near the flower, taking a photo of it, asking the next person to take another photo of us with the flower, smelling the flower, and then grabbing our cameras back to take a close-up shot. I was glad the guide reminded us to smell, because the fragrance was that of rotting flesh, which I later learned is where the flower gets its local names.

For the return journey, the rain is letting up some, but everything including our clothes, the forest, and river crossings are wetter than they were before. We slip back down the hill, get to our big river crossing, and realize that the rain has angered the flow of water. Many of the rocks, although still there, are no longer visible underneath the water. On this crossing, I’m not as lucky and my waterproof shoes get attacked from above and my socks feel the wrath of the river. Then on the rest of the journey, I am not sure if I am listening to frogs or to the croak of my shoes as water sloshes around. The rain comes and goes a couple more times, and we eventually get back to our transport beast to navigate us down the rest of the road.

The ends may not have justified the means on this trek, but I was only using the ends as an excuse for the means. With this philosophy, the day and my Malaysian Jungle adventure were a success. And as a plus, my Cameron Highlands family and I spent the rest of the afternoon together, found dinner, and then grabbed a couple drinks before exhaustion got the best of us.

March 19, 2011

Moganshan

Before leaving his apartment in Shanghai, Kai and I made a plan to meet up at the Hangzhou train station and commit to a 24-hour adventure to Moganshan, a mountain top village that’s only a bus ride away. Before the Cultural Revolution, Moganshan was filled with foreigners, and there is still evidence through the style of the remaining houses. Many ventured out to this retreat location when Shanghai became consumed by heat and they needed an escape to a cooler, fresh-aired, natural resort. Now, although it still attracts many people during the hotter months of the year, it is only a fraction of what it used to be. But its natural beauty still remains and is recognizable as the bamboo forests from the movie “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.”

moganshan bamboo

Before leaving Shanghai, Kai gave me a book to read by Mark Kitto titled “China Cuckoo: How I lost a fortune and found a life in China.” This book was a first person account of what Mark went through and how he eventually ended up running a coffee shop atop Moganshan. Knowing that I would have the opportunity to both spend time at The Lodge, as he calls it, and meet both him and his wife Joanna were both contributors to my excitement level for this adventure. Continuing to read their story while sipping tea at The Lodge really made the narrative come alive, as one might imagine. But not only did the book describe how they got there, it helped paint a picture of a foreigner’s life in China, the difficulties they faced, how the Chinese government operates, and despite it all, how a foreigner might still want to make China his home. I highly recommend the read.

moganshan view

My story at Moganshan involves several great hikes and a small hole-in-the-wall guest house that Kai was able to navigate us towards using his Chinese. The guest house even came with room service, although this was probably because there was limited seating elsewhere. We had some of the host’s self-proclaimed delicious food and some Moganshan Spring Beer, with the beer’s main redeeming quality being that it was still hydrating because it was so light. We sat around our bed stand, bundled in many layers of clothes, and laughed our way through dinner.

The next day after a blue-sky morning hike through the hills of Moganshan, we ate a lunch and spent several hours resting at The Lodge. Listening to Paul Simon lightly playing throughout the bar while writing down some of my trip’s adventures so that I would be sure to remember them was a perfect ending to our stay in Moganshan.

moganshan lodge1

Fun fact: Moganshan is named after the first names of Mo Ye and her husband Gan Jiang, and the word “shan” just means mountain. There are many variations to the story of Mo and Gan, but the basics are that they were sword makers, who were commissioned by the Emperor to make the sharpest sword they could. After delivering the sword, they would be killed so that no one else could come into possession of an equally sharp weapon. Here is a photo of Kai and I in front of a statue honoring Mo and Gan.

moganshan statue

March 18, 2011March 19, 2011

Lost in Translation

Although I knew I was traveling to a foreign country where English was not an official language and not spoken everywhere, I expected more English-speakers than I found. As a result, over these two weeks in China, I began to perfect the gesticulation dance so integral to my survival. Traveling with an English map is the first step to any successful day in China. Street signs include English text, even if just the transliteration of the Chinese characters, taxi driver’s respond well to pointing to locations on a map and running my finger underneath the Chinese characters of where I want to go, and most tourist maps even included a city subway reference. With a map and an idea of where I wanted to end up, I could successfully arrive at most places. In other cases, however, when communicating with non-English speakers, as comes with trying to perfect any art form learned through trail and error, I had my fair share of errors. These are a couple, but by no means all, of my more memorable errors.

One of my first days in Beijing, I ventured out to find some dinner, and ideally, I wanted to find food to take back with me to my Beijing hostel family. I found a place that looked promising. It looked like a good restaurant with a menu full of photos so that I could have some expectation of how my food would look. I have been lucky that most Chinese menus abide by this photo philosophy, a useful tool whether or not the menu also included English. I walk into the restaurant and immediately try to convey that I want to take the food to go. Quickly realizing that my English isn’t going to get me anywhere, I start playing charades while repeating the words “box”, “bag”, “to go”, and “take away” out loud.

Two words. Big picture. I make a box with my hands. No reaction. I mime carrying a bag. They start getting more excited, and run over to me with a menu. They point at exotic dishes in the menu. I look at the door, perform the door-opening motion, and start walking in place. They start pointing to more things on the menu. I shake my hands indicating I want a clean slate and want to start over. I point at the door a couple times. I now realize that I’m the dinner entertainment for the rest of the restaurant’s customers. All eyes are on me. Realizing this game was not to be won and the sand in my charade’s hour glass had all fallen, I point at a chair to sit in.

I take a seat, they give me a menu, and after a minute or two of looking through the novel that was this restaurant’s menu, I find a chicken dish that looks safe and delicious. I order this, rice and a beer. My server immediately begins to laugh, a reaction that happened often at my expense not knowing what I was supposed to in most situations. He walks away and I hear chatter between the restaurant staff. They continue to say “chicken” between stretches of Chinese vocabulary. This is when it hits me that I had them on the completely wrong track and that they thought through all my gesticulating, I was trying to convey some sort of dish or animal that I wanted to eat. Even though “box” and “bag” sound nothing like “chicken”, I can see the humor in the situation in that they might have thought I was trying to mimic a chicken’s walk or something similar. I then understand why they were pointing to dishes in the menu as I was making a fool of myself. In the end, the dish was great, and I ate it as the majority of the restaurant continued to stare at me.

On another occasion, which was less comic and more common, I ran into communication difficulties trying to find my hostel in Hangzhou. After arriving via high speed train, which traveled at a speed of 350 km/hr, I buy a map and find a taxi, in which I point to the address of my hostel that I have saved on my phone. Not yet being well-acquainted with Hangzhou, I cannot place my hostel’s location on my newly purchased map. The taxi driver drops me off just far enough away from the hostel to make the last short walk a true challenge. I get my barrings on the map and even find my general location. Unfortunately, when searching for a very specific location, only understanding my general location wasn’t going to get me there. Based on the English instructions from the hostel, I knew that it was on a small side street off the main street where I was currently standing. This small street, however, was not visible due to the map’s high-level resolution. I walked up and down the street a couple times and then unsuccessfully tried to ask a couple people for help. I quickly realized I was no longer in a big city and even fewer people spoke English in Hangzhou, which is a much smaller city of only several million people.

Eventually, I stop and stare at my map while leaning up against a near by light post. After about 10 minutes, an attractive girl approaches me speaking disjointed, but very understandable English. I am not sure if I am more excited that she was helping me or that she is a cute girl who decided to talk to me, but either way, I stay focused on trying to navigate to my hostel. She says that she was already late for something and only had a quick minute to help me. She then asks a couple people around us for directions and we run around until she figures out where I need to go. I was confident that I am now at least pointed in the right direction down the street. We part ways, and I am left on my own to find an alley on the left side of the street at some undefined distance ahead. This task I had learned how to do. I keep asking people around me to direct me towards the alley, and eventually, once I pass it, someone will respond by telling me its behind me. After a fair amount of searching, I finally find my destination, where the staff speaks great English, there are other foreigners, and there are people to show me exactly where we are on the Hangzhou map.

That all said, now that I’m at the end of my Chinese portion of this adventure, I find myself feeling very comfortable in China.

March 17, 2011

When in a Buddhist Temple

Similar to the old saying about the Romans, when in a Chinese Buddhist Monastery, one should do as the Chinese Buddhists do. While in Hangzhou, I ventured to Fei Lai Feng (also Fei Lai Peak), which faces the Lingyin Temple. The Lingyin Temple is home to hundreds of Buddhist statues, and many probably travel here to pay their respects.

While in The Lingyin Temple, I observed a ritual involving incense sticks, bowing, and fire. After observing for several minutes, I also wanted to participate. As a solo traveler, I can use whatever luck and good fortune I can come across, and therefore took this Buddhist ritual as an opportunity to increase my chances of future luck. The ritual began by purchasing a bundle of incense sticks.

buddhist ritual

I then lit these sticks along side other participants.

burning sticks

I proceeded to bow in all four directions in an order that I had observed others doing earlier, and then I placed my incense sticks into a greater fire.

fire pit

Later on, in the theme of doing as the Chinese Buddhists do at a Chinese Buddhist temple, I climbed to the peak of Fei Lai and had my photo taken next to inscribed words on a rock. Everyone who took the effort to climb the many steps seemed to pose at this inscription, so I felt I should, too.

fei lai feng

March 16, 2011

Hangzhou Encounters

Staying at the Hangzhou Hofang International Youth Hostel just off the busy Hefang Street, I met people who had come to Hangzhou for a variety of reasons. As an example, Monday night, I shared a beer with someone from Lithuania who was traveling the world trying to sell his artwork. Then the following morning, I met another individual, Leonardo, who had traveled to Hangzhou with his family and was staying an extra day. Leonardo was a practicing Buddhist who had come to Hangzhou to visit the famous Buddhist temples.

After breakfast, Leonardo and I walked to the West Lake, which I learned is pictured on the 1 Yuan bill, and walked across the Su Causeway through the middle of the lake. Although it was a little cold, the view and the company was great. I learned that Leonardo is going to school in Vancouver, is studying physical chemistry, and is back in China because it’s his Spring Break. He explained that although his English was pretty good, it was not as good as the Chinese humanities and art majors. I also learned that Leonardo picked his English name based on Leonardo DiCaprio’s award winning performance in Titanic.

Su causeway west lake

Later in the day, after making my tourist rounds and visiting Failei Peak, The China National Tea Museum, and the Nangsong Dynasty Palace Porcelain Museum, I ran into another U.S. Spring Breaker, Yvonne, who had returned to her family in Hangzhou but is going to school in Pennsylvania. I met Yvonne at the Porcelain Museum in an area offering ceramics classes. I was watching as she formed an owl out of clay, and eventually, she looked up and blurted something out in English. I was so surprised by her English, that I forget what it was that she initially said to me. I asked if I could sit down near where she was working and then proceeded to interview her, flooding her with many questions. Around closing time of the museum, she asked if I would like to join her and her family for dinner. I immediately accepted under the condition that I wouldn’t be intruding.

I followed her to the bus station, where she insisted that I have the fried tofu on a stick that was being sold right at the station. I then had my first experience on the not-so-English-friendly bus system. Unlike the subways and railroads, the buses had no English instructions. We make it to her home, where I am greeted by her grandparents and invited inside. I take off my shoes as is the custom in most Chinese homes, and they lend me some slippers to wear while I am inside. While getting a tour of her home with tea and snacks in hand, I soon meet her mother, brother, and aunts and uncles. There was also a one a half year old who was a lot of fun once he got over being shy. Also during the tour, Yvonne tried to teach me some of the basic rules of the game Majiang before we eventually all went out to dinner.

hangzhou tea museum

The whole family came out to dinner, where among many things, I learned that the location one sits at a round table is significant. The head of the table is seated facing the door. The two most important guests are then on either side of the head. Finally, the level of importance of the other guests either travels counter-clockwise around the table from there, or varies as the seat is farther away from the host. We ordered many different dishes, including some that were a little more exotic such as the tongue of duck. Being the guest, the family would generally want me to try something first; however, I was hoping that someone else would start so that I could learn how I was supposed to eat it, with what utensil and on what plate or bowl. I usually had to start and then alter my method of eating once I learned I had being doing it incorrectly. Throughout the dinner, the smallest would find someone around the table, many times me because I was the new face, and raise his bowl yelling “Gan Bei!”. I soon was told that this was the equivalent to “Cheers!” in English, and would repeat it back to him. Being welcomed into this family’s home and joining them for dinner was easily the highlight of my Hangzhou experience.

After dinner, although I was already very full, Yvonne wanted to take me to a street market where they prepare some of her favorite foods. We enjoyed all sorts of delicious snacks on skewers despite not knowing exactly where it all was fitting in my stomach. These snacks ranged from spiced vegetables to the more adventurous squid.

hangzhou street market

What drove me to that Porcelain Museum is a mystery other than I saw it on the map and thought it might be interesting to explore. But whatever the reason, it led me to Yvonne, who in turn welcomed me into her home and provided me with a very authentic and memorable Chinese experience.

March 12, 2011March 12, 2011

Chinese Tea

After three very full days in Beijing, I was ready for a slight change of pace. I tried to sleep late, although this was not an easy task given the 16 hour time difference. Beijing is eight hours behind and a day ahead of California. I woke up, called home, showered, and reorganized my things in preparation for my upcoming overnight train ride to Shanghai. Then, situated comfortably in the common room of the hostel, I wrote a little and talked with the staff. Soon after, they asked if I’d like to join them tea and lunch, and I immediately agreed.

I’ve always made tea using a tea bag in a mug of hot water. This is so far from what I experienced here that it seems like a completely different drink, and because I want to remember how to make the tea that I had this morning, this will serve as instructions for how to make said tea.

chinese tea

The supplies for this operation include small tea cups that hold less than an ounce of tea, one tea pot to steep the tea, one tea pot to serve the tea, hot water, and obviously, the tea leaves. One person will act as server and all other participants will only drink and enjoy the finished product. The rules to be observed by the non-serving participants are as follows:

Hold the tea cup with your thumb and index finger, and place your other three fingers underneath. Note: Men should have their ring and pinkie fingers tucked below their middle finger, while women can have their ring and pinkie fingers more free form.
Smell the tea, note its color, and then taste.
If you want more tea, place the tea cup back on the serving tray.
If you are no longer thirsty, place the tea cup on the table in front of you.
If you re-find your thirst, you can move the tea cup from the table in front of you to the serving tray.
Gestures indicating “cheers” or “l’chaim” are encouraged but not required.

The instructions for the server are necessarily more sequential and more involved than those for the drinking participants, and I unfortunately I will probably be unable to recap this process perfectly as much was lost in translation while I was being taught.

Warm the water. Note: If working with tap water in a foreign environment, bring to boil for at least one minute.
Pour hot water in the empty steeping pot to both cleanse and warm the pot.
Place strainer on top of serving pot in preparation to catch tea leaves, and transfer hot water to serving pot for same reasons as above.
Transfer hot water once again to tea cups and pour out all remaining water. Note: If working on a tray that drains water, pour out water directly on tray. If not, dispose of water into a separate designated receptacle.
Place tea leaves in steeping pot and pour in hot water. Note: Temperature of water will depend on type of tea leaves used.
Let steep in pot for amount of time determined by type of tea leaves used.
Pour from steeping pot through the strainer to the serving pot while attempting to prevent tea leaves from escaping the steeping pot.
Remove strainer and serve tea into tea cups.
The same tea leaves can be re-used many times, which again is determined by the type of tea leaves used.
Subsequent of steeping will require a different amount of time than the first.
Adhere to the rules governing the drinking participants and serve until all participants are satisfied.

Later this same day after walking through Baihai park, I ventured to a shopping district where I found a great tea shop. I walk in, get approached by several employees, and after showing the faintest bit of interest, get escorted throughout the store as I learn more about tea. After making it clear that I might not purchase anything, they still sit me down at a private table, and I begin tasting a variety of teas including Oolang, Green, and Jasmine. The Jasmine tea is tightly wrapped in handmade small balls, which eventually unravel as they encounter hot water. After tasting these teas and trying new snacks in-between tastings, I realize two things. First that tea could make a very good gift, and second that gift giving is an elegant Chinese tradition for saying thank you and showing respect. In the end, I purchase tea to give to William and the other hostel staff, who have all treated me so warmly.

March 9, 2011

Beijing Qingfeng-Xisi Hutong Guest House

Located at No. 58 Xisi bei wu tiao Hutong (no.58 Xisi North 5^th Alley) Xicheng District, this hostel has been an additive experience to my stay in Beijing. Although I arrived the first morning before 7am in the morning and clearly woke up the people who manage the hostel, they were still so nice and accommodating. Not only was their spoken English so welcome, but their demeanor and helpfulness made me feel so much better after having just arrived in this new place. I should probably place such a review on yelp or tripadvisor, but for now, it will remain as a memory to me of how wonderful the staff was.

The front door of the hostel:

Front door

Although the inexpensiveness of a hostel is appealing enough to make me want to stay at one, the atmosphere and the camaraderie shared at most hostels was also a strong pull being a solo traveler. In the morning before I even settled in, I met Mike from Montreal who was consulting in the Chinese space program. As a gift from them, he received a model Chinese space rocket, which was very impressive. He told me where a couple good food spots were and how to get around. After meeting Mike, I had the confidence to go check out some of the sites that Beijing had to offer.

Later that day in the evening, the guest house taught us how to make dumplings. Not only was this a valuable cooking lesson, it was also the perfect opportunity to meet the other residents.

Making dumplings

Me and dumplings

While having my hands messy forming dumplings, I met the residents and staff members. There was a mixture of English and Chinese spoken by all, except for a few of the residents like myself who only could contribute in English. One of the residents has been staying here for about 6 months and is in an intensive Mandarin language course. He was our default translator in both directions whenever communication blocks arose. I met one pair, Laura and Alex, who traveled here from the UK by train. It sounded like quite the experience when they recapped a couple of their highlights from destinations like Berlin, St. Petersburg and Mongolia.

Hostel Scene

By the end of the evening, after playing a couple games of chess with Mike, I was able to convince Laura and Alex to join me the following day on my adventure to the Great Wall.

March 7, 2011

My First Traveling Companions

The Passport Ice-breaker Game:

Fast forward about 10 hours and I’m sitting on the plane with 3 hours left of this marathon flight to Beijing from LAX. I’ve been able to sleep a descent amount partly because I was so sleep deprived that I was passed out before the plane even left the gate. With lighter eyelids, I now receive the immigration form from the flight attendant. I think she could tell that I wasn’t from China. I’m not sure what the biggest give-away was, but my appearance and my language barrier are both high on the list.

Now that I was relatively rested and feeling more sociable, I thought it was a good time to meet my non-English speaking row mates, and what better ice breaker than comparing passports and visas. I receive the yellow immigration form and pull out my passport, and immediately, I notice how interested the couple sitting next to me was. The wife spoke a small bit of English, which was helpful while we tried to make friends. It was also helpful when I was filling out my immigration form. When I was trying to find a couple details that I was supposed to transfer from the visa in my passport to the immigration form, a few of them were only written in Chinese. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to start busting out some Chinese characters, but luckily, my new friend was able to translate it into English and I was spared the embarrassment of what my Chinese characters would’ve looked like.

As the couple sitting next to me stares more and more intently at my passport, I hand it to them with a gesture that says, “go on, take a closer look”. I would’ve said it too, but most verbal cues were lost in our conversation. The first thing they do is settle a disagreement they had when they immediately looked at the year I was born. They show twenty-five by holding up their fingers, first 2 and then 5. I tried to ask them how old they thought I was, but that conversation path ended up being rather unsuccessful, so I moved back to passport examination. At this point, they take out their passports and we compare some of the differences. The most obvious difference was that they had Chinese passports with US visas, and I had a US passport with a Chinese visa. Another very noticeable difference was the amount of artwork that is placed throughout the US Passport. I recently renewed my passport, so I am not sure if the artwork was there to this extent before, but when comparing it to the plain pages of the Chinese Passport, the graphics and images became quite noticeable. All in all, the pictures received praise from my neighbors, and then they proceeded to show me that there were hidden images that you can see when holding up a page to the light. This hidden-image feature was also present on their passports, which showed a graphic of the Great Wall.

Now that the ice was broken, we championed the small talk that is available to people who have trouble understanding each other. I find out they went to New York and LA, they learn that I am going to Beijing and Shanghai, and they give me a recommendation of where to stay and what to eat while in Beijing.

Finding the Hostel:

In one word, the Beijing Airport is impressive! They remodeled the airport for the 2008 Beijing Olympics and that was very obvious. High ceilings, elaborate displays, clean and shiny, and streamlined. Going through customs was quick and easy, the bags were already coming out when we got to baggage claim, and I was done within about 30 minutes of landing, and that includes having to take a tram from the terminal I landed in to the baggage claim.

After going through baggage claim, I bumped into Eric from Cleveland who looked similarly lost. He was in Beijing on business, but also didn’t know a lick of Chinese and was trying to figure out how to get into the heart of the city. Since I had an address from my hostel and knew that I was heading in a similar direction, I asked if he’d be willing to share a cab. The first buses into the city wouldn’t be leaving for at least another hour or two. Eric said yes and we shared a cab to his hotel, which was about 2/3 of the way to my hostel, and then I continued on. Overall, I’m where I wanted to get to, I’m here in one piece, and I’m starting to think about how I want to start the day since it is not even 8am yet.

Although I might not get to all of them, some spots I’d love to see while here include the Forbidden City, Tianenmen Square, the Great Wall, and the Temple of Heaven to name a few. I’ll wait for some others in the hostel to stir and then I’ll see if I can meet some buddies to adventure with for the day.