It is really strange to be so out of reach this Christmas. If I think about it though, when I started my gap-year, I had thought I would actually be in Vietnam at this time. I had read stories in my gap-year guide book about how travelers had spent their Christmas abroad, alone in a 10-person dorm room at a hostel, crying in their bowl of Top Ramen noodles. It didn’t sound appealing, and at the time, I thought that I would certainly figure out something a bit more comforting than that. Well, after a twist and turn of events, I did in fact figure out something different, and even though I’d love to be home with you guys, this won’t be too bad of a deal… at least I think it won’t. In fact, Christmas hasn’t arrived yet so technically the word is out, but things are going reasonably well so far.
How I ended up in Luxembourg instead of Vietnam for Christmas represents a “slight” change of plans in my gap-year agenda. I had originally envisioned spending the last 3 months in the summery south of Vietnam, not far from nice beaches, and having found something semi-productive to do with myself like drawing fake tattoos on people causing chemical infections, or making snow cones or something. There was a point, though, when I happen to be completely alone in a dormitory on a nearly frozen lake in Siberia, when it became clear to me that I wanted to change my plans. I have always had my aim on making this gap-year as meaningful as possible, and with that in mind, I decided to spend my last 3 months in Spain. I’m sure I would have loved Vietnam, but I felt that if I could come away from this year knowing a language significantly better, then I would really have something tangible to be happy with. It also greatly broadens my ability to find some sort of job or volunteer work if people know I can at least stumble through a few sentences.
So, that in mind, I still wanted to make sure I could experience Asian culture, which, I think I probably even got more than I bargained for while being in China. I was quite exhausted after being in China 5 weeks. Walking through a touristy area almost feels like your walking through a three ring circus where there are 10 acts going on simultaneously all around you, and people are flashing things, yelling things, grabbing and pulling you in different directions, music is blaring, and always there is the intent of ripping you off somehow. Of course, this is an exaggeration, but this is really how you start to feel after a while. It takes all of your energy to protect yourself from overpaying for everything, and to ignore all of the sales antics. Wow… a real downside to visiting China. Now you see why I wasted as little time as possible to get to a tiny village where there was some refuge from all of that. Once you do that, then you will see there is something magnificent about Chinese life and culture. They are so resourceful and self sufficient, just living off a small farm and some livestock, and probably just pennies for income. This is evident, as Kari also saw, in how they just use every single part of the chicken or whatever animal for cooking. I can’t remember having one solid piece of meat in China, besides chicken liver <ugh>, and I’m actually really surprised I didn’t choke to death on a chicken or fish bone at some point. Other than the bony meat, the rest of the food was actually quite good; most fresh from the ground it seemed.
I have been trying to keep track of some of the funny or profound things that have happened to me on my journey, which all in all doesn’t feel like a ton of things, but I think I will tell you just for entertainment value one of the first experiences I had in China, which in a way symbolizes what it is like to travel there.
I had barely arrived into Beijing, traveling by train for about 30 hours from the capital city of Mongolia, Ulaan Baatar. I was actually amazed that I easily found my hostel by following all of the English signs in the metro and on the street in Beijing… no problems. I was fairly pooped and smelly from the train ride so that afternoon and evening I just stayed at the hostel and relaxed. They had a restaurant there as well, so I just ordered from the menu and had a beer, then read for a bit and fell asleep. The next day I really just wasn’t feeling all that motivated to hit the city and explore, as someone had already warned me that Beijing can be a lot like Moscow.. Just big, ugly, and difficult. As it turned out, that wasn’t the case at all, but anyhow, I just didn’t feel like going anywhere. I was also feeling a bit daunted since I had yet to formulate a plan for what I was doing in China, and I knew it was going to take a lot of concentration and research. This seemed to happen to me every time I left a country and arrived in a new one.
Anyway, I doted around and read my book and killed time on the internet, and by about 2pm I was really hungry and I told myself I really needed to leave the hostel and start experiencing China. I asked the hostel reception where I could eat cheaply and they said to just go two storefronts down from there and there was a tiny restaurant for cheap. Trying to be as helpful as possible, and knowing these tiny places don’t speak English, she asked me what sort of food I like to eat, which I said something to the affect of chicken and vegetables, and she wrote it down on Chinese on a piece of paper for me to give to the restaurant waiter.
So finally I’m out the door into the wide world of China and I find this little restaurant, more like a one car garage size place, which actually was the size of most of the places that the local people eat at. I stood outside the restaurant and started digging in my backpack for the piece of paper with the food I wanted, and a middle aged Chinese lady, instantaneously noticing my possible interest in the restaurant, came out with a look of concentration and started talking to me in Chinese. She was very curious what I was digging for in my backpack and generally what I was doing, and she also started to try and look in my back pack, practically sticking her face in it, to see what I was looking for, which I thought was a bit pushy and intrusive. So, after turning my shoulder and scowling at her to protect my bag, I find the note and she leads me in to sit down at a really basic wooden table, and I hand her the note. With a hurried look of consternation she nods and immediately goes to the little opening in the wall, which is evidently the little closet where the kitchen is, and says something to the cook. Great, I think. Everything is going ok so far, and I‘m just sitting and being observant. Being it the first place I’ve been in china, I was a bit overly conscious that I would have the right manners while waiting and eating, and wasn’t sure if I would do something offensive like sticking my chopsticks in the rice (evidently meaning death to all or something).
As I waited, I just looked around. I was the only one there besides what appeared to be her grandfather, who sat a table away from me, smoking, and seemed to be staring at me and my silly looking earrings. Always a comfortable feeling to be watched. Anyhow, it wasn’t long before my dish was ready, and I was actually pleasantly surprised to see that there appeared to be real cubes of chicken (no bones!) mixed with chopped cucumber. Not exactly stir fry, but I was happy, between that, and my cup of white rice.
As I said, trying to mind my P’s and Q’s, and use my chopsticks properly when I noticed a middle aged Chinese man stride in and he immediately started talking to the woman who served me. He was semi professionally dressed in slacks, jacket, and white collar shirt, and he stopped about a step away from where I was sitting to speak to the woman. Oh, I thought, maybe that’s her husband. I continued trying to work my chopsticks, and was fairly engaged in my meal, when the man, with his back directly to me, let out a gigantic, verberating and echoing fart. I am not kidding, my plate of chicken and cucumbers was no less than 2 feet from his ass!! I just about choked on the food in my mouth, and I immediately looked up to see what the reaction was to this. Evidently, I was the only person who happen to take exception to someone letting a huge fart in a restaurant, let alone in my plate. His wife, and the grandfather, didn’t even blink, as if it was, and now I know for sure it was, totally commonplace. I sat there, as I was trying to hold my breathe until the methane cloud dissipated, in total shock at this. They didn’t bat an EYE!! Unreal. Here I thought the Chinese were always so prim, proper, and clean. This was the first big tip-off.
Well, fortunately, it didn’t stink too bad, and I was able to continue eating my meal after a few minutes. It didn’t take long for me to finish up, and I made the signal of money with my hand to the woman, the universal rubbing your thumb and index and middle finger, and she hurriedly grabbed the ticket pad to write up my bill. Despite the fart incident, I thought, well, so no big deal, this is obviously a very laid back place where the local people eat. That means this meal will probably cost me virtually nothing. She appeared to figure out the cost very studiously and confidently laid it in front of me on the table. Hmm, I thought, 59 yuen. I thought for a few more minutes… 59 divided by 7 equals just under 9 US dollars. My eyes got really wide. What?? I thought. Could this place really have meals this expensive?? Since this was my first purchase outside of the confines of the hostel, I really didn’t have a grasp yet of how prices work, but I knew there was no way on the planet that bowl of cucumber and chicken cubes could be 9 US dollars. I had a full meal at the hostel the night before for 15 yuen, which is 2 dollars, and that is a tourist price. I started to feel a bit panicked that I was about to be totally ripped off. I then addressed the woman, shaking my head no, and I wrote down 35 Yuen on the ticket as a compromise, which was still outrageous for that dish. She looked at me in disgust and then turned to her grandfather yelling and complaining that I would dare try to negotiate the price of this meal, and then turned back to me and pointed at 59 as if it was the final word. I suddenly realized I would have to cave. All I did was give her the name of the meal on the paper, without even looking at prices on a menu. Other than just walking out, I did not have the option to negotiate since I had already eaten! So, after, having my privacy violated as she inspected my pack, being stared at like a zoo animal, having a ONE vegetable stir fry, and some guy blowing a massive fart in my food, I then had the joy of being ripped off to the tune of about 8 times the normal price. I walked back to my hostel with my tail between my legs.
Little did I know, that this was actually a proper introduction to my travel experience in China.
So, that is my little Christmas story. I’m sure it will be retold for generations :) I do have to say that overall, I really value my experience in China, and that not everywhere is as bad as I make it sound. As I’m sure Aaron and his family, Kari, and Carol would also attest, you just have to have a lot of energy to get from here to there, but at the end of the day, its still part of the culture, and the history, landscape, and personalities in China, really are captivating.
I was happy though to finally be leaving China, at the end of a fruitful but tiring 5 weeks. In essence, it represented the end of the exotic part of my gap year. Because I was planning to go back to Spain for January, February, and March, I was now heading back in the direction of western Europe. That is when it struck me that I could actually devise a plan to be with friends over the December holidays. You may recall from my pictures from Skiathos, but I made good friends with a couple, Steve and Ian, from the UK, and they had invited me to their place in Bristol in the UK. So from Hong Kong I flew to London, back to civilization it seemed, and wow what a difference. I suddenly had my own room with a double bed and shower. I’m surprised I didn’t get a bill for hot water usage by the end. I also have a friend, Bill, that just moved from Portland to Luxembourg last summer for a music teacher position. So it just seemed a perfect fit, with a short skip over the English Channel, that I could spend Christmas with an old friend after-all. No Top Ramen; no sobbing alone in a dormitory. So, for those that have been wondering where on earth I have been lately, which is probably almost everyone since I’m not updating my journal at all, that is my story of how I am spending Christmas in Luxembourg. It actually feels very Christmasy here, as the frost is so heavy on the trees and grass that it looks like snow. And these towns are just like old looking Germanic villages with old style mom and pop shops and and coffee houses, and huts outside selling Christmas things. It’s really very nice. That’s not to say I won’t miss you guys and Oregon, but it will make for a good experience I think.
Now, one thing to get out of the way, is that I hope you will accept this letter as a rain check for when I return. I do have gifts for everyone, mostly from Russia, Mongolia, and especially China. After I figured out how to negotiate I did buy copius amount of things. I really hope you all have a great Christmas, and I am very much looking forward to seeing you next April. By the way, by a process of elimination, I somehow decided that I would go to Zaragoza Spain for my last 3 months. If you look on a map, it is between Madrid in the center and the French Border. It sounds like a nice medium size city where I can find some volunteer work. Anyhow, best wishes, and also have a Happy New Year!
Much Love,
Daniel
