Running away from Home

Time to begin the journey home

melissa_k — Tue, 11 May 2010 22:30:00 GMT

It was a pain having to get up so early to make my 7:25am flight from Chengdu to Shenzhen, but in the end, I’m glad that I did. In the first place, the early flight saved me about $15, and in the second place, I was able to take my time in getting from Shenzhen (on the mainland) to Hong Kong. All of it fell into place nicely and the only real surprise was the price on the bus ticket from Shenzhen airport to Kowloon station on Hong Kong. I thought that 90Yuan was a bit steep and I was irritated that I had to revisit an ATM, but when you think about the fact that they wait while you are going through immigration, it’s not so bad. I’m sure that there is a cheaper way to do it, but I didn’t do enough research. I just followed the directions given to me by the manager of the guesthouse where I would be staying this evening.

All I did was cross a bridge and I entered a place where there was quite a bit more English, both spoken and written, and more westerners. The bus ride ended at a posh shopping plaza where I was safe to take my time in finding my way to the subway. There was no problem with getting to the proper subway stop, but it was a bit tricky figuring out which exit to take out of the station. There are people who prey upon travelers who are uncertain of the directions to their guesthouse and I didn’t want to be that mark. On the website for the Maple Leaf Guesthouse, it states repeatedly that you should not follow someone who says that they are a representative of the this hostel, and that you should not show your booking information to anyone. This made me a tad bit worried, so I called the hostel from the subway station and the woman who answered told me which exit to take, but I still had a hard time finding it. In my wandering, I attracted all sorts of touts for cheap accommodations, affordable tailoring and imitation watches. After all of that, you will understand why I was skeptical when a woman approached me and told me that she had spoken to me on the phone and she was there to lead me to the hostel. She gave me enough of the details of our phone conversation and she showed me my booking information for the Maple Leaf, so I followed. Thank God she came out to get me because I NEVER would have found it.

I got checked in and she led me to the smallest hotel room that I have ever seen. It was more like a cubby, but I rather like cubbies, and this is the first private bathroom I have had since entering China. The fact that the bathroom is the size of a closet is immaterial. For the next 24 hours, no one but me is sitting on that commode.

All that’s left now is the bus ride to the airport and my Asian odyssey will be over. It’s been an amazing adventure and I have learned so much, but I’m ready to go home and start the next chapter of my life. I’m also anxious to dump all of my clothes into boiling hot bleach water and sanitize everything. Actually, some of my things are looking like good candidates for the rag bag, but I’ll worry about that when I get home.

Thank you to everyone who helped to make this trip a success!

Mom-you were my Stateside point of contact and a steady support line. You encouraged me even though you worried about me.

Lara-thank you for the feedback on my journal… your little sister works so hard to make you proud!

Grandma and Grandpa-I know that you were praying for me!

Kathryn-I don’t think I could have survived Nepal without you either.

Sir Richard-thank you for all of the terrific advice and the wonderful comments on my journal.

Sarah-I hope I can be just like you someday.

A beautiful day in Chengdu

melissa_k — Mon, 10 May 2010 23:15:00 GMT

It’s amazing how alcohol can contribute to people sitting around talking about absolutely nothing. This is what was happening under my window last night and it continued on until 1:30 in the morning. For some reason I didn’t feel like using my complimentary Mix Hostel ear plugs. (Always beware a guesthouse that provides them) It was all the more irritating because I had intended on getting up early in the morning and going to the People’s Park to do T’ai Chi. The morning rain killed the plan altogether, but I got a few extra hours of sleep.

By 9:30 the rain had cleared and I set out for the People’s Park. So what if I missed out on AM T’ai Chi? It would still be nice to have a stroll and a cup of tea at one of the many teahouses that Chengdu is known for. By the time I arrived, the sun had come out and the park was awash in shades of shimmering emerald. I was greeted by a Chinese fellow who welcomed me (in English) to the People’s Park. In Beijing I was regarded with suspicious curiosity. In Dali I was regarded with polite curiosity. So it was nice to welcomed somewhere, and I was so choked up that my “thank you” was barely audible. The park was very busy at this time and there were some people doing T’ai Chi, but they were way beyond my skill level, so I left it alone. The tea houses were bustling with activity and as I walked past the outdoor seating area, I witnessed several intense mahjong games in progress. I don’t know if they were playing for money, but these people were serious players. I was greeted by a teenage girl who told me that her name was Zhou (I think). She noticed that I was alone and she told me that she was alone too, so we could “travel” together. I hate to admit it because she seemed like such a lovely young lady, but I was immediately suspicious. I’ve been in Asia too long not to be. We walked for a while and I practiced putting some Chinese sentences together as well as listening to her speak Chinese. She didn’t ask me for anything, though, and I parted company with her so that I could go sit in the teahouse and have a cup of Jasmine tea.

Of course they tried to sell me the most expensive tea that they had, but I wouldn’t be bullied. “Bu yao. Tai gui le.” (I don’t want it. It’s too expensive) That much Chinese I can handle. Someone offered to give me a shoulder massage or an ear massage. I thought that this had something to do with pressure points on your lobes, but it doesn’t. They have this object that looks like a soft-bristled paint brush with a metal handle, and they put the brushy part into your ear while they strike the metal part with a tuning fork. The very thought of it gives me the chills. It makes me think of having a snake flick it’s tongue into my ear. Oooooh, I’ll pass. I enjoyed the local tea and I squeezed every last drop of flavor out of the leaves as I refilled the cup again and again with fresh hot water.

I went on to find the Green Ram Temple. This is a Taoist temple in the middle of another park. I enjoyed the walk through the compound and I especially enjoyed the various frescoes on the temple walls. Most of the paintings had an animal from the Chinese zodiac incorporated in it and I always lingered at the tiger images. I also liked the big stone courtyard with the large yin-yang symbol painted in the middle of it.

Once I exited the park, I picked up a local bus because my feet were hurting and I was starting to get hungry. I had one more spot that I wanted to check out. It was nearby my guesthouse, so I thought that would push through the pain in order to have a look. I thought it would be another old quarter like the one near the Wenshu Temple, with recently-built traditional architecture. It wasn’t. It was more like the Chengdu ghetto. The buildings were all done in brick and they had some character, but they were the type that get knocked down to be cleared for new condos or high-rises. All I can say is, even if this neighborhood is on the poor side, they have some excellent food. I broke down and patronized several food vendors along the street. One of them had fresh-steamed buns full of veggies that were out of this world. I paid less than a quarter for two. I got some fruit at the street market from a very nice woman who seemed thrilled to be selling to an outsider. I tried to keep my photo-snapping to a minimum so that no one would feel self-conscious while I explored, but it wasn’t long before I was completely drained. I stumbled back to The Mix exhausted, but very satisfied with my last day in mainland China.

Sichuan dining: not for the faint of heart

melissa_k — Sun, 9 May 2010 23:13:00 GMT

My bed is as hard as a rock, but I still have a hard time getting out of it. The pitter-patter of rain is like a soothing lullaby that makes me forget that my back is screaming at me. What the heck is going to happen when the vacation ends and I have to go back to work? I don’t want to think about it, so I roll over to give my back a little relief and close my eyes again. Pretty soon, not just my back but my bladder, too is urging me to get up and it’s too much to ignore.

The morning pitter-patter turned into a steady drumming by noon, but it soon tapered off and I was left with no excuses to go forth and explore Chengdu. Once I got out into the fresh air, my spirits were lifted and I grew increasingly enthusiastic about my plans for the afternoon. I headed for the Wenshu Fang Old Quarter which isn’t really old, it’s just an older style of architecture. Still, it’s impressive even when the skies are gloomy and there is a light mist. In this area there are many teahouses, souvenir shops and a few restaurants. I was interested in the one that sold Sichuan snacks, a large number of tiny servings of Sichuan goodies. Fortunately, I had copied the Chinese characters for “Sichuan snack” or else I would have been up dookie creek. This restaurant had it posted on a placard by the entrance along with the price so that I wouldn’t get embarrassed. It was all Chinese characters in the menu too, so when I placed my order, all I could do was point. I paid 28 Yuan (a little more that $4) and I got 14 little dishes. I tried all of them even though I couldn’t tell what the heck I was eating. I get a little bit of a jolt when I think something is going to be savory and it ends up being sweet. I took photos of the individual snacks as well as the group so perhaps I can get someone who knows Sichuan food to help me identify them.

After my adventurous lunch, I spent the afternoon wandering around the ancient Wenshu temple that is a small haven of peace and quiet in this burgeoning city. It was too tranquil for me. I wanted to lay down in the garden and take a nap, so I sought a 21^st century solution to this problem. I left the temple behind and power walked to the Starbucks outside of Platinum City, a trendy new shopping area. Since leaving Vietnam for China, I have migrated back towards tea as my caffeine supply, but I longed for a frappuchino. It was not meant to be, however. The person who made my drink thoughtlessly left out the coffee, and I got a little bit of a sugar buzz, but not the full-scale impact of a caffeine high.

A lot of my time lately has been consumed with job hunting and I found an interesting ad online for teaching positions in government universities in China. The pay is a lot less, but you won’t be employed by the “English mills” that promise the world and then deliver….China. The up side is because the government pays so little, they can’t demand someone who has years of experience. But what they did want was a number of documents, including a “passport-like” photo of the candidate, and “professional dress helps“. I was wearing a green t-shirt in my passport photo. I spent the evening trying to pull something together out of my travel wardrobe. All I can say is, thank God for scarves! This task was enough of a challenge, but I also had to figure out how to take a self-portrait that would not scare a prospective employer. It was an interesting exercise and I stayed up late e-mailing all of the required documents (it all had to be in one e-mail) to this recruitment program. Wish me luck!

It's China...how good can the Mexican food be?

melissa_k — Sat, 8 May 2010 22:05:00 GMT

Train travel in China is much more pleasant when you have the lowest berth. The train from Kunming to Chengdu was not fully booked, which made it an even better experience. I liked having the luxury of stretching out on my narrow bunk. My past experiences taught me that it was best to bring your own food aboard, preferable soup noodles because hot water is in ready supply and it is a satisfying hot meal. I was slurping on my chicken-flavored ramen when I noticed that the passenger in the bunk next to mine had gotten a lot bigger overnight. A mother and son had occupied the lower and middle berths when I first got on and she had eaten quite a bit before bedtime, but not that much. I took a closer look at the passenger’s face and then I realized that the mother and son had disembarked and this other passenger, who looked liked Sammo Hung’s twin sister, had taken her place.

Most of my time was spent curled up in my bunk listening to my I-Pod because I was close to the bathroom and I didn’t want to hear all of the nasal clearing and expectorating noises that were coming from the basin area. I did get the opportunity to admire some of the scenery of the Southern Sichuan province, although it had become overcast. I understand that this is common. The name of the province where I had spent the last two weeks, Yunnan, means literally “South of the Clouds” in Chinese.

It was still cloudy when I reached Chengdu, and a representative from the Mix hostel was there to meet me. I enjoy the challenge of trying to find a place on my own, but my Lonely Planet only covered the Yunnan and I had left that at The Hump. I had no map, so I was happy to get the assistance. It turns out that the cab driver was unfamiliar with this famous backpacker place so the ride to my guesthouse still had a small hunting element to it, and I am proud to say that I was the one to spot The Mix.

I am always curious about the amenities that are supplied by the different Hostels. The Mix supplies toilet paper in the bathrooms and hand soap by the basins where The Hump doesn‘t. BUT, at The Hump, you could get a clean bath towel (provided you were lucky enough to snag one when they put them out) and at The Mix, you have to bring your own or go drip dry. Both supply laundry facilities (10 Yuan/load), free wi-fi and hot water. The Mix was also kind enough to supply me with a free map of Chengdu. So, I was fully rested after a 19-hour train ride and I had a free map of Chengdu. It was time to do some walking.

I have heard a lot of good things about Peter’s Tex-Mex restaurant and it was on the other side of town. So I thought that I would put the Sichuan sampling on hold and go get some enchiladas or some chimichangas. Maybe a margarita. The idea grew more appealing with every step. By the time I arrived, they were already into their Saturday evening rush. I didn’t want a table out in front of the restaurant so I patiently waited ten minutes for a table inside. There were three tables pushed together and I got the middle one. Not a problem. Then another solo diner was told to sit in the chair opposite mine. Wait a minute…. I could see that they were getting busier, but I wasn’t asked if I would share the table I waited for, I was told. That alone is a customer service no-no. They set this male Chinese college student in front of me like it was some sort of bizarre blind date. Now I like to look, but I ain’t no Mrs. Robinson. I don’t even know if he spoke English or not because after about three minutes of looking around the room I caved to the awkward pressure. “I’m sorry,” I said. “This is just too awkward.” I got up and made for the door. I spoke to the lead hostess as I left. I told her that this restaurant charges way too much (at about 30-60 Yuan per entrée, it’s true) to be pulling a stunt like that just because a person decides to dine alone. I don’t even know if she understood me. She just kept repeating, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry.”

I took the bus back to The Mix and I was so busy deciding whether I overreacted or not that I missed my bus stop. Well, I wanted to do some walking. The food at the guesthouse wasn’t Mexican, but it was a lot less expensive and very tasty. It was also a consoling fact that I would be back in the States in a few days and I would be able to gorge myself on good Mexican food.

Photos: China Pics

melissa_k — Sat, 8 May 2010 21:55:00 GMT

Job hunt in Kunming

melissa_k — Fri, 7 May 2010 23:00:00 GMT

I returned to Kunming with the intention of visiting as many English schools and universities as I could to pass out my resume. This recommendation was given to me by an English teacher who visited The Lily Pad during my stay and it turned out to be crap advice. I did my research the night before on the locations of the various schools and I thought I had a good idea of where they were. Most of them seemed to be clustered in an area close to Yunnan University so I thought that I had it made.

In the US, when you are in the vicinity of a University there are usually all sorts of signs that let you know that you are approaching KU or K-State. I took it for granted that the Chinese would do the same thing. I was just across the street from Yunnan University and I didn’t even realize it. This is in a part of town where all English disappears from signs. I missed my bus stop for this very reason. I accept my part of the blame. I should have gotten better directions. I should have copied down the Chinese characters for the bus stop. Shoulda, shoulda, shoulda….it was still a crap idea.

The night before as I was searching for schools on the internet, I found a lot of ESL forums where working in the Yunnan was discussed. The consensus was that jobs are difficult to find because of all the foreigners who come to this region and end up wanting to stay….a bit like myself. There are waiting lists to be hired at schools in Kunming and the jobs that you get pay just enough to cover living expenses. I can live on a tight budget, but a teacher would really have to do a lot of private tutoring to save any money.

I crossed the street to Yunnan University and when I entered I looked for a registration office or an information building. The campus map that I found actually read that there was an information building behind me. They must not want to give any information out because there was no accessible entrance to the building. I tried to ask a student if there was a registration building. She couldn’t speak a word of English. Well, at least I know they need English teachers. I tried asking employees. I told them in Chinese that I was an English teacher, and all I got was a blank stare. I walked around the campus for 45 minutes looking for anyone that I could leave my CV with, but I left with every single copy that I had purchased yesterday. I decided to go look for the English schools that were in the area. They hide these too, apparently. It was mid-afternoon by this time and there was full sunshine. The heavy gusts of wind cooled me, but they also played havoc with the umbrella that I was using to protect me from the UV rays. I stopped looking just before my positive attitude disintegrated. I entered a McDonald’s thinking, “yeah, I deserve a break today”. I’m so glad that despair hadn’t set in because I really enjoyed that meal. You can get spicy chicken wings at the McDonalds in Kunming and they were fresh and hot.

I don’t know if personally passing out your CV is a bad idea in just Kunming or in all of China, but I think that I will go back to applying over the internet. I only got one response from this and it was from an organization that has a bad reputation for not taking care of their teachers, but maybe that’s just something that I have to deal with until I have some experience.

Not tough enough for a hard seat

melissa_k — Wed, 5 May 2010 23:40:00 GMT

WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING when I bought a ticket in hard class on the train from Dali to Kunming? It was eight of the most uncomfortable hours of my life and I have had major surgery. The seats are bench style, which wouldn’t be a problem if I could stretch my legs out in front of me from time to time. But you can’t do that because there is a guy sitting opposite you who wants to do the same thing. There is a cluster of six sitting around a small table on one side of the train and a cluster of four on the other. I was one of four.

When we left the station, the window was slightly open. I was grateful for this because of the temperature of the filled-to-capacity railway car and the slight stench of toilet that I would periodically catch a whiff of. The breeze that came into the window was blowing in the face of the woman opposite me which was unacceptable because she was trying to work on her needle point. So she switched places with her sour-faced dad. He was a real joy to look at for hours at a time. He did smile on rare occasions, though. It happened when he was doing the playful, bickering thing with his wife who was on the bench next to him. Call me paranoid, but I think sometimes they were talking about me. My Chinese isn’t good enough to follow their conversation and my mini recorder was packed up in my suitcase. The young doll-faced woman sitting next to me was a bit precious in her misery. She sat quietly for the entire trip with a bag full of goodies on her lap.

There was a fellow who sat on the other side of the car who had an empty seat opposite him. He had the luxury of kicking back and putting his scabby feet up on the bench and taking a nap. I try not to be an envious person, but I was pea green with jealousy. He wore dark glasses for most of the trip and when he removed them I could see why. He had gotten a cut over his left eye and the suture job must have been piss-poor because his eye didn‘t heal properly. Whenever he closed his eyes, his left wouldn’t shut completely.

I cursed the people with the refreshments carts. I wanted a cold soda so badly that I would have trampled over my fellow passengers to get one. But they only sold warm sodas. To make things worse, they sold sunflower seeds in the shell on the snacks cart. First it was the girl next to me. Then it was the guy with the f***ed-up eye. After that, it was the lady two clusters away. They sat and nibbled at these sunflower seeds like big hamsters and I had to listen to it because my I-Pod was out of juice.

In the fourth hour my hip started to bother me so I took a short walk and ended up joining the smokers at the car connections where this is allowed. I did my best to work out the kinks and improve circulation before the cigarette smoke became intolerable. I spent the last three hours on the end of the bench moving my legs in and out of the aisle as passengers passed by on their way to get hot water for noodles or tea. When we pulled into the station in Kunming I waited for everyone to stand clear of the overhead luggage rack before I pulled my huge pack down. Old sour-puss issued a half-hearted offer to help me with it at the prompting of his wife, but I said, “mei you wenti.” (no problem) He repeated, “mei you wenti,” to his wife as he pointed over his shoulder at me and quickly exited the car. I soon followed, but not too closely.

I would really like to stay....

melissa_k — Tue, 4 May 2010 23:25:00 GMT

I went to the train station this morning and purchased two tickets. One would take me from Dali to Kunming and the other would take me from Kunming to Chengdu. I am very proud of the fact that this complicated transaction was conducted mostly in Chinese and I didn’t hold up the line for very long. Okay, I admit that the ticketing agent had a knowledge of English that was helpful, but it was mostly me. The Chinese in line behind me had a few laughs at my expense, but how am I supposed to learn if I don’t use it? As proud as I was of my accomplishment, I was also felt a bit sad. I will be leaving tomorrow. Leaving my friends and my comfortable room with the incredible view.

My anxiety about leaving manifested itself in obsessing over food. I even had a dream early this morning where I was purchasing gasoline at a filling station and as I opened my pack for my wallet, this old beggar man stole the peanut butter cups out of it. I can’t remember the last time I had peanut butter cups, but I can remember how incensed I was in my dream as I fought like crazy to get them back. While I was distracted, a boy stole the wallet out of my bag. That says something about my priorities, doesn’t it. With the time I waste in obsessing over food, I could have probably learned an additional three languages. It’s my cross, and I try to bear it without making anyone else miserable. Sometimes I fail.

May 4^th is National Student Day in honor of the protests that took place after WWI when the victorious Allies granted the Shandong province to the Japanese. This evening the students at the local university were putting on a production of Chinese music and dance, and one of the participants was a young woman whom I had met at my guesthouse. Eight of us went, and we all tried to catch a bus up to the campus, but the routes were messed up because of the festival. It wasn’t a long walk to the university, but it was all uphill, and we didn’t want to arrive all fatigued and sweaty. We finally found a cab that could fit all eight of us in it, but on the big hill approaching the university the little economy van sputtered and stalled. Three westerners got out, myself included, and still the minivan stalled. A fourth westerner got out and he even had to give the darn thing a push before it went speeding up the hill with three Asian women and an Israeli in it. When we met them in front of the school the cab driver was already on the phone having a laugh over it with his chums.

We were late, but there was no reason to rush. They spent about 30 minutes handing out various awards to students and making short speeches. The Brit sitting next to me cracked me up with his mock “translations”. “And now he’s saying, ‘Death to all the American imperialists’. People continued to file in during this presentation and the auditorium was growing warmer with the additional body heat. The actual performance started and I liked most of the numbers. A few of them could have stood a bit more rehearsal, but I’ve heard about the demands on Chinese students. So I can’t be too critical. The young woman from the guesthouse performed and feeling his obligation had been met, the Brit said, “Cheerio,” and made for the exit. I was a bit sorry to see him go. He amused me. I caught the next two numbers and then made my exit. The cool evening air refreshed me after sitting in a poorly-ventilated auditorium with a few hundred strangers. Before I walked back down the hill, I turned around and took a good look at the campus of Dali University. It was beautiful with the mountains in the background. I hope that someday I can come back and teach English here. All I need is just a year or two of teaching experience, and then I can return to Dali.

Day trip to Er Yuan

melissa_k — Sun, 2 May 2010 23:14:00 GMT

The festival was an interesting distraction for a while, but now it is a huge impediment. I long to see something other than crowds of Chinese rubbernecking as they stroll past the booths selling….crap. It’s amazing how many forms crap can take: trinkets; clothes; jewelry; food. Sarah decided to take a day trip to Er Yuan and she invited me along. Er Yuan’s claim to fame are the hot springs that are close to the local lake. I couldn’t afford the hot springs, but I wouldn’t mind walking around the lake. In addition to that, it has a good food market where one can purchase roast or fried duck for very little money.

Trying to find the minibus that would take us there was a complicated task. With the comings and goings of festival goers there were minibuses everywhere. We just had to start inquiring until we came across the right one. At one point, we made the mistake of asking someone who ran a cab service with their minibus. They agreed to take us to Er Yuan for 200 Yuan (about $30). I smiled and politely told him to go f*** himself. Sarah’s response was to burst out laughing as though he had just told us the funniest joke in his repertoire. However, after asking another five or six bus drivers we found the public bus to our destination.

The hour-long trip actually took two. After a while we both thought that we had gotten on the bus, but then we saw the shops that sold bathing suits. No need to sell bathing suits if there is no lake and hot springs nearby, so I figured we were on the right track. The bathing suits were all very conservative in style complete with modest necklines and little skirts. No Brazilian bikinis here. When we finally arrived, we tried to ask the driver if this was the location to pick up a bus back to Dali. I should have gotten out my phrasebook. We tried our best to communicate in Chinese, but with very little success. Eventually the frustrated driver just smiled and nodded in agreement. He still didn’t understand, but he would do anything to get rid of the two crazy western women so he could be left in peace.

It is nice to know that there are still places in China that are untouched by the tourist trade, but if a foreigner arrives in Er Yuan and develops a case of the munchies, she doesn’t have many options. The food being sold off of carts looked suspicious to Sarah, and after coming off a mild case of dysentery, I was also feeling cautious. The people who had restaurants in the market area were completely unprepared for non-Chinese speaking guests. I can deal with that, but they also seemed stunned into inertia by having a foreigner step into their shop. Ultimately, I went to a local supermarket and bought some potato chips and a coke.

It doesn’t take long to walk out of town in any direction. From the city streets to the fields it takes about a 15-minute walk. It was a pleasant afternoon to be in rural China. The temperature was just right for a brisk walk and the air was clear enough to see the surrounding mountains. There was just enough of a breeze to keep the smell of manure moving away. As we approached the lake, there was a mini-mart and I whimsically browsed the selection of frozen confections in the cooler. What I could read didn’t look very appetizing (red bean this…green tea that) so I settled for a carton of yogurt. When I paid the owner, I noticed that he had a calendar for the tiger year. This was the one souvenir that I really wanted to bring back from Asia because I was born in a tiger year. I asked the owner how much he would take for it, he said 50 Yuan (over $7). I thought that was a bit ridiculous for a calendar when the year is 1/3 over and there were spatters of soy sauce on it. I figured he didn’t want to part with it so I backed off. I was exploring another section of the mini-mart when Sarah called to me saying, “Melissa, they want to give it to you.” I had just taken a bite of the yogurt and was making an ugly face because it had gone bad. I rolled my eyes when I noted the early March expiration date. I rushed over to the store owner who was rolling up the calendar and I tried to refuse the gift. He shook his head. I offered him money. Again, he shook his head. When I saw his resolve, I accepted. Because I couldn’t believe my good fortune, I blurted out a nervous laugh. Sarah took me aside and told me to keep the laughing to a minimum. “He’ll misinterpret it,” she said. When he handed it over to me I dropped my eyes and repeated, “xie xie ni” three times. I’ve heard that it doesn’t count until the third time. I was still wondering how he went from 50 to free. Sarah later told me that his wife told him to give it to me.

Reaching the lake was rather anticlimactic after the calendar incident. Actually, it was disappointing. It looked more like a reservoir. We turned around and headed back to town where we bought one crispy duck and one roasted one at the market. We only paid 20 Yuan each (about $3). This alone was worth the trip, and because I had done so much walking I felt fully justified in chowing down on fried duck when I got back to The Lily Pad.

The tightwad's guide to travel in the Yunnan

melissa_k — Sat, 1 May 2010 23:08:00 GMT

I can see the famous three pagodas from the top of my guesthouse while I am doing T’ai Chi in the morning. I have taken photos of it from this distance and they are less than impressive. So this morning I decided to skip my exercises and head towards the famous monument before all of the festival crowds arrive and make getting around this area impossible. This plan would also spare me the heartache of seeing the dog chained up on the next roof. It’s a German Shepherd on a six-foot line, and he seems miserable. Sometimes I hear him crying at night or early in the morning. I want to go to the house and ask if I can take that poor thing for a walk.

I rushed past the festival grounds. Past the vendors in their morning set-up and all of the street sweepers dealing with the monumental task of cleaning up after the 20,000 festival attendees from the day before. I didn’t approach the Three Pagodas Park from the front because I couldn’t afford the ridiculously high entrance fee of 121CNY. I thought that I could get a decent picture from the side of the park, but the Chinese are too crafty. There is a big rail fence surrounding the park with big trees planted outside of it. As hard as I tried to find a good viewpoint, it was always obstructed by something. Finally, I found a side entrance that was opened for the employees of the park and the local entrepreneurs who sell trinkets. I followed them into the gate, but I still had to get past the security guard. I nonchalantly strolled into the park following two well-dressed women. I got about 20 feet past the checkpoint when the guard came out of his booth and started shouting at me in German…. I think. The look on my face must have betrayed my confusion and he switched to English. “Entrance, that way!” Well, I tried. I got the best photos that I could from the entryway and the side of the park. I even climbed on the rail fence, but I wasn’t going to shell out the 121CNY. That’s more than half of my daily budget.

On the subject of budgets, I have found that most of the restaurants in Dali are quite affordable. Especially at the guesthouse where I am staying. You can get a decent meal for around 10CNY. But today, my friend Sarah took me to the local Buddhist Center where you can get a good vegetarian meal for five Yuan. The catch is, if you take it, you have to finish it. You can return to the buffet as many times as you want, but you cannot leave food on your plate. For the price they charge, they can’t afford to waste food. I usually don’t have any difficulty with finishing what I take, and I especially didn’t have any difficulty today. The food was fresh and they had all sorts of cooked vegetables that could be combined with spicy pickled vegetables to add some heat. I enjoyed it thoroughly. In fact, it’s one of the best meals that I have had since coming to Dali. Imagine, if you were really on a tight budget in China, you could eat two really good meals a day for a total of 10CNY (about $1.50). If you got a bit bored with the buffet, you could get a bucket-o-noodles at the local supermarket for less than five Yuan. Not bad.

Bargaining 101 in the Dali Market

melissa_k — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 23:04:00 GMT

Lessons I learned about bargaining today:

1) When you approach an item that you are interested in, don’t show your interest at all.

2) Even if you like an item it is good to curl your lip and shake your head as though you find fault with it.

3) After the merchant gives you his asking price (which is usually way to high) state your offering price and walk away.

4) If they let you walk away, then the price you asked was too low. If they try to bargain, then you are in the right ballpark.

5) Don’t come up in price too quickly--when all else fails start walking because more than likely a merchant is selling the same doggone thing two stalls down.

6) Don’t act surprised when they accept your low offer. They know that if they give you something for a low price, then you might purchase something else from them (remember the door busters on black Friday).

7) Go for a low price but don’t try to break them. Remember that two or three Yuan means a lot more to them than it does to you.

8) Make sure to ask for a price break when you buy many items.

I feel a bit intimidated when I come up against people who have been bargaining their entire life. Rightfully so, I have always been taught to pay the amount on the price tag and have done with it. Not only that, but as a citizen of one of the wealthiest countries in the world, I have also been taught to feel guilty about the fact we have so much and others so little. I have two responses to that. First, even if I get a low price on an item from a merchant, I know that there will be five other tourists who will pay more than they have to. Second, the Chinese are an up-and-coming world power. The gap between the purchasing power of the US dollar and that of the Chinese Yuan is slowly closing, and even if I come from a wealthy country, it doesn’t mean I’m wealthy.

In order to make room in my pack for some of my new items, I need to give some of my other things away. This is easier said than done. In the States, I would just take the unwanted items to a donation bin, but in southeast Asia there is no such thing. I have asked. The women at the hotel in Vietnam looked at me as though I was crazy. Mostly I resolve these issues just by leaving things in hotel rooms, but I think that means the housekeeping staff gets to claim it. This is not necessarily a bad thing because I know that if I am only paying eight to ten dollars a night, then they aren’t getting much of that. Is there an Asian solution to this problem? Because my western one doesn’t seem to work here.

Thanks to my friend Sarah for the bargaining lessons.

The mob descends on Dali

melissa_k — Wed, 28 Apr 2010 23:59:00 GMT

And then the crowds came. How they have flocked to Dali for the big festival. I arrived too late for the opening ceremony, but I was told that you couldn’t get near it anyway. The stands were packed for the horse races and good luck trying to move up and down the line of booths. It’s a big crowd, but a well-behaved crowd. I was never pushed and I never sensed that someone was trying to take anything off of me. I would squeeze the pocket of my jacket on a regular basis to make sure that my wallet was still in it. Same with my camera case. If they stole my backpack, all they would get is a bunch of books and my sunscreen.

I’m impressed by the assortment of items that are for sale, but nothing jumps out and grabs my attention. There is a lot of food and drink (of course), clothing, shoes, medical remedies (natural or otherwise), gadgets, widgets, wing-dings, and pretties. I like to look at the people the most. There are such interesting faces to see and photograph. I like the chubby little pink faces of the small children that have fallen asleep on their parent’s shoulder. I also like the older women with kindly, brown, wizened faces who are dressed in their traditional Bai (local tribe) garments. I should ask to take their pictures, but I’m too much of a coward. So, like a crazed gunman, I just shoot randomly into the crowd.

Even a well-behaved crowd starts to wear on me after a while. After exploring only one street’s worth of booths (it was a long street, too) I had to get away. I started walking back towards my guesthouse where the crowds thinned, but the walkways were still congested. It took my a while to get to the point where I was walking by myself, and then I was half-way back to Xiaguan. It was probably the warmest day I’ve experienced since reaching Dali, and walking around in a jacket and hat becomes slightly uncomfortable, but I press on. The stomach bug that I’ve been grappling with has been claiming most of my energy lately. The exercise makes me feel a bit stronger, and it helps to clear out the cobwebs in my head. The ones you get when you lay about with nothing to do.

On the return trip, I make a detour through town to get some items at the super market. I love that you can get Oreos cheap here because they pack them in Indonesia. It’s that western “gotta get a chocolate fix” mentality that I just can’t shake. I would also like something salty, but the potato chip flavors don’t appeal to me and the crackers are all sweet. Anyway, after going for soup noodles and Oreos, I headed toward the city gate and just before I reached it, I saw this child. He was crouched along the edge of the street and just staring into space. Like he was pondering the mysteries of the universe. I think that he was put there by someone who wanted to collect money for some reason because he had a sign in front of him that was written in Chinese characters. The expression on this child’s face was that of an old sage. He seemed perfectly content to sit there quietly and work out his mental puzzle. I tried to take a picture without asking first, and the little booger closed his eyes just as I snapped a shot. He must have been trained to do this, but, then again, I should have asked first.

Cangshan- a walk in the clouds

melissa_k — Tue, 27 Apr 2010 23:30:00 GMT

I was very lazy this morning and didn’t get up until after 9:00am. I regretted it once I saw the azure sky over Cangshan. I dressed quickly for a hiking and went down for a quick bite to eat. I was already in a tizzy over my late start, but Sarah made it worse when she told me that it was better to go early before the clouds came rolling in. This little bit of information combined with the two cups of caffeine that I consumed brought me close to straight-jacket craziness.

The entrance to the national park is within walking distance of The Lily Pad, and I was grateful to be able to burn off some of that nervous energy. I also got a preview of the festival that is starting tomorrow and will draw crowds from all over the Yunnan. There are booths being set up all along the road that leads to Cangshan. A lot of them contained food items and it was easy to get distracted after a breakfast of fruit and yogurt. I get a little bit homesick for Kansas City when I smell grilling meat, and the fried chicken legs on a stick looked incredibly tempting, but I stuck to my objective and made it to the park entrance without buying a drumstick. There are several ways you can go up the mountain: by cable car; by chairlift; or just by hiking uphill. The first two will cost you Yuan. The last will cost you all of your energy. The grade up that hill is very steep and the rain from the past few days had made the trail slippery, so I just coughed up the cash for the chairlift.

Once you are on the side of the mountain, you have the option of taking the trail to the left or right. I chose the left because some cloud cover had moved in on the right. Besides, there was a point on this trail called Seven Dragon Pool and that name captured my imagination. The trail along the mountainside is actually a beautifully constructed stone walkway that is very pedestrian-friendly. The Chinese have worked hard to make sure that everyone can enjoy this walk and not just the rugged, athletically-inclined adventurer. There were families and couples up there taking strolls along the path as well as the intrepid hikers striding it out. I fit somewhere in the middle of these two groups, keeping a good pace so that I could breathe in the freshly-washed mountain air, but not so quick that I might miss a photo op. The sun appeared and disappeared behind clouds and I took every advantage of the changing light, but mostly, I just enjoyed the walk.

There was one thing that was missing on this hike and it didn’t dawn on me until it was almost over. The hawkers. Where were the folks that would follow you along the path trying to sell photos, books, postcards and cheap trinkets. There weren’t any. There were a few stands when you first got off the chairlift, but the trail was entrepreneur-free. This was unbelievable! I visited an outer section of the Great Wall and I was swarmed with Chinese trying to sell me things, and they would not go away. I practically had to threaten one lady. It is not the steep incline of the trail because when I was on the chair lift to the Great Wall, I saw a woman, who later tried to sell me postcards, take that trail like she was part mountain goat.

Even with some cloud cover the scenery is breath-taking. However, when I arrived at Seven Dragon Pool, I had a difficult time enjoying the twisting-turning nature of the gurgling creek because I had to use the bathroom very, very badly. I found during the course of the day that there is only one toilet in the 10 km between the chairlift and the cable car and I was far from it. Having a man-made structure was not the problem. I can wee outdoors. The problem came from the fact that there was no place to go squat behind a bush and take care of business. There is the trail and then there is straight up and straight down. I had to book it another three kilometers along the trail before I could find a place that would offer any sort of privacy. But let me tell you, I felt like a new woman afterwards.

I hiked until the end of the trail and then turned around to go back to the chairlift. I probably should have turned back sooner, but there was this part of me that wanted to make it to the end and back before the lift closed at 6:00pm. It was 21km round trip, but it was all level and paved so it didn’t seem so arduous. Sarah was right, though. It would have been better to do it earlier because at one point the clouds did come in and shower me with a light rain. But I had mostly good weather, and I when I got off of that mountain, I was ready for a meal. As I walked back towards the guesthouse I passed the food stalls again with the grilled and fried meat. I hustled on past because I had to use the bathroom again. I’ll have my chance. The festival doesn’t even start until tomorrow.

A sneak peek at the "real" China

melissa_k — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 23:25:00 GMT

I got out of Dali today and went to a market in a nearby village. I’m still a bit burnt out on the whole tourist thing, but today I was tagging along with someone else and that made it more interesting. I met Sarah the first night I was here. She is a fellow English teacher and traveler who told me that I would have no problem getting a job on my own in China because I had a degree, a TEFL certificate and I was under 60. She isn’t, and it’s a sore point with her. Not the fact that she’s over 60, but the fact that the Chinese government won’t allow her to teach because she has passed this threshold. It’s a tragedy for Chinese students that this bright and energetic woman can’t be allowed to help them learn English. She has such enthusiasm for exploring different cultures and learning about people both generally and specifically that it piqued my interest as well (sign of a good teacher). The market in Shaping was ho-hum, but it was good to get out and socialize a bit as well as practice my Chinese.

Between Shaping and Dali there is another small town called Xizhou. It is here that an American couple (the wife being Amer-Asian) purchased and restored an ancient home and turned it into a hotel. It’s actually more than a hotel. The Linden Centre is a place where they really try to give you the Chinese culture experience whether it’s through tours, classes or volunteering opportunities. I was there for less than an hour and I got to see a Chinese funeral procession. When they passed the hotel, we all went running out to see the spectacle, including the owner. I asked if we were being disrespectful and he told me that it was considered good luck to witness a Chinese funeral. Just being able to look around the place was a treat because they involved the local artisans to bring the original architecture back to life. With the exception of the addition of the Linden Centre and a few mobile phone stores, life in Xizhou probably hasn’t changed much in the past fifty years and it doesn’t have the feel of a tourist trap. I had the opportunity to walk through the town and out into the cane fields. Actually, I was running because Sarah keeps up a crazy-fast walking pace. She had written an article on the place last year and she wanted me to see it.

I had planned to stay in Dali for a few days, but I liked The Lily Pad so much that I extended it to four after the first day. Today, I found out just how difficult it is to travel in China when there is a holiday. During the May Day celebration that is a long weekend for some and a full week off for others, a lot of Chinese get out and travel to places like Dali and Lijiang, which is where I was headed. First I found out that the bus companies not only increase their prices during this holiday, but they also don’t schedule until last minute. Then I found out that the hotel rooms in Lijiang were doubling their prices. When I first read about it, I knew that May Day was going to cause complications with my itinerary. If it got too complicated, I thought that I would find an inexpensive guesthouse and lay low until the madness was over. I asked one of the staff if the prices here were going to be raised. She told me that they weren’t, and so I booked my room until May 5. I like it here. It’s inexpensive. There’s plenty going on. Lijiang is just going to have to wait.

Hello Dali!

melissa_k — Sun, 25 Apr 2010 23:11:00 GMT

I left Kunming to get out of the dorm and ended up in a bunk situation on the overnight train to Dali. I figured I could put up with it for one more night. There were no heavy snorers in my section of the train, but I did have the interesting situation of being on the top bunk. In hard class on Chinese trains there is not just a lower and an upper berth, but an lower, middle and upper berth. Guess who had an upper berth? I had about 2 ½ feet clearance between my mattress and the ceiling. It was an interesting night.

When I arrived in Dali, I brought the rains from Kunming with me. It was good for the dry, cracked earth that desperately needed moisture, but lousy for a tourist who likes to hike. There is an excellent trail that runs along Cangshan, but I could see the dark clouds hugging the side of the mountain, and I knew that it was not the best weather for lacing up the hiking boots. However, it was ideal for bundling up in a comforter and reading a book, watching a movie, or getting caught up on my sleep. Unfortunately, the rains were not the only thing that I brought from Kunming with me. Yet another stomach bug has entered my life and has made a nuisance of itself. So I’m not minding the rain so much. I am comfortable in a lovely guesthouse where I have a private room. So comfortable that I have haven’t seen much of Old Town Dali yet. What I have seen seems to be manufactured with the tourist in mind. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I have been a tourist for close to four months. I have seen versions of the same thing in all the countries that I’ve been to, and I’ve grown a bit weary of it. I could use a short break from being a tourist. Bless the rains.

Anyone in Kunming looking for an English teacher?

melissa_k — Fri, 23 Apr 2010 23:07:00 GMT

There was a heavy, pounding rain last night in Kunming and I am told that it is rare for that to happen this time of year. I think that the unseasonable weather brought out the craziness in some people because there was a ruckus that was going on at street level that went on after midnight. Combine that with the my snoring bunkmate and it makes for a night with very little sleep. Despite this, I was out of bed by 7:15 so that I could go do T’ai Chi in the square. I ran downstairs and cruised the area for folks doing the Yang form, but this morning I didn’t see anyone doing that particular form so I claimed some pavement as my own and did it by myself. I got a few odd looks, but I was really trying to focus on the exercise and not on the little bit of attention I was receiving. I was also trying to keep from falling over.

The culinary specialty of Kunming is guoqiao mixian or across-the-bridge noodles and this is what I tried for my lunch today. For 9CNY you get thinly sliced slivers of raw pork, chicken or seafood, diced vegetables, a bowl of rice noodles and a big steaming bowl of chicken broth. You quickly add the meat, noodles and vegetables to the broth and it cooks everything together. I went to the Jiang Brothers restaurant and at 12:30 it was packed with customers. I stood in line at the window in front of the restaurant and they were very patient with me and nudged me through the ordering process. When you go inside the dining room is bustling with diners sucking down noodles while engaging in lively conversations and waitresses delivering bowls of noodles, bowls of broth and plates of sliced meats and vegetables. It’s madness, but for an extra 20CNY you can go upstairs into the much quieter dining room. A waitress helped me to find a place to sit. You would have thought I was a toddler the way I was being led around, but if it meant I had the opportunity to try the local specialty, so be it. Once I got all of my food mixed together with a little bit of hot chili oil to clear my sinuses, I was sucking down noodles just like a local. About halfway through my meal, an older couple sat down to theirs. I looked up for a second sniffling from the spicy heat that I had added to my lunch and the man asked “hao chi ma?” (good food?). I smiled like a little kid and said, “hen hao chi.” (very good food)

I was going to try to go to the bamboo temple in the afternoon, but I liked Kunming so much that I spent the time instead online looking for a teaching job in or near the city. I also looked for jobs around Chengdu or somewhere else in the Sichuan province. I was totally qualified for most jobs with the exception of one thing: experience. Most schools wanted teachers who had been working for two or more years. I sent my resume to everyone who wasn’t demanding experience. I already have been accepted to a program that will set me up in Shenzhen as a teacher, but I would need to shell out $2000US and go through TEFL training again. Not only that, but I wouldn’t get my first paycheck until the end of September. I just don’t have the money for it. I thought that it was worth giving up an afternoon to see if there was any possibility that I could teach out here in the Yunnan or Sichuan province and not have to pay a huge amount of money up front.

Kunming--my kind of town

melissa_k — Thu, 22 Apr 2010 22:55:00 GMT

I survived my first night in the dorm and awoke to a beautiful day in the City of Eternal Spring. It wasn’t so bad being in the mixed dorm. There were comings and goings at all hours and a guy who needs some serious help for his snoring problem, but I felt safe and the bunk was quite comfortable. I am staying at a hostel called the “The Hump” which refers to the route the planes flew during World War II to supply China in their effort to keep the Japanese at bay. They flew over the Himalayas (the Hump)from India to Kunming which is really dangerous given the winds through the mountains and the altitude that the planes could maintain. I love it! Budget accommodations and a history lesson.

I was downstairs by 8:00am for a morning walk to the train station. I passed through the central square where some older residents of Kunming were already doing their T’ai Chi. As I walked, I wondered, “Where is everybody?’ This city lacks the crowds and traffic of Beijing. It can get a bit congested, but nothing like what I saw in China’s capitol. The people here are so much more patient. I haven’t been shoved once. One guy tried to cut in front of me in the line to buy steamed buns, but I cut right back in front of him and I don’t think that he realized I was waiting too. I was so proud that I was able to communicate that I wanted two vegetarian steamed buns without holding up the line. When I got to the train station, I had rehearsed my lines so well that the lady in the information booth just started rattling off information. I was flattered that she thought I was so fluent, but I had to tell her that I didn’t understand. She looked a bit weary, but she patiently wrote down the requested information for me.

After finishing my trip into the southern section of the city, I freshened up at the hostel (they work so hard to keep the bathrooms here immaculate) and then headed in a northerly direction to find Yuantong Temple. More importantly, I went to find a highly recommended vegetarian restaurant that was located near the temple. It took me a while to find the Yuquanzhai Restaurant, but when I did, it was well worth it. They cook tofu so well that you would swear that you are eating real meat. They even shape it in the form of a fish or chicken leg. I had the sliced “duck” with three different kinds of slivered vegetables. I shocked the waitresses when I also ordered a dish of sautéed mustard greens, but after all that walking, I was famished. The food was terrific and that wasn’t the hunger talking. They went heavy on the garlic, but that’s how I like it. I strolled around the Buddhist temple while my food digested. There were all sorts at the temple today. Tourists, like myself. Young girls taking photos of each other in fun accessories and poses, actual worshipers, and a fellow just taking a siesta in the sun.

The Hump has a common room which is also a café, but no one is pressured to order. There is a pool table, a ping pong table, free wi-fi, and a room for watching videos. It is a nice place to relax without feeling like you have to spend a lot of money just to be there. However, after I took my shower and brought my toiletries back to the dorm, I noticed that I was alone. I reveled in the solitude for a bit and did some stretching. After all the walking today (a good six, or seven miles) my muscles felt tight, and being able to stretch out without any eyes on me felt like a luxury. A lot of the hotel rooms that I have had to this point have been too small to allow this, but not a six-bed dorm. What an introvert I am! A communal place like a hostel is an ideal place to meet people and I haven’t, but that’s more me than them.

China or bust!

melissa_k — Wed, 21 Apr 2010 22:52:00 GMT

The power was restored last night, but it went off again early this morning. I am so glad that I dug out my headlamp because using the bathroom at 4:00am would have been difficult. By 6:00am there was enough light in the sky so that I could pack my bags and get out of this gross, musty room. I’ll come back to Sapa when I can get a real hotel room. My ride to Lao Cai came to pick me up at 7:30 as promised, but they spent the next 40 minutes driving around getting enough passengers to fill the minivan. On the way down the mountain, I sat next to a fellow who was a member of one of the hill tribes. I found it ironic that he had a 21^st century mobile phone, but traditional clothes and primitive notions about oral hygiene judging by his breath.

I wasn’t dropped off at the border until 9:15am. Judging by the response I got from the border patrol, I don’t think that they get a lot of western tourists going through there. Fortunately, the oddity of a single American woman passing through charmed them. I got to practice my Chinese a bit, and I was amazed at how it came flooding back to me. They told me that it was a good thing that I knew a bit of Chinese since I was going to Kunming. I had heard this before from the Australian couple that I met in Hoi An. During the customs check I was asked if I had any books or maps with me. I had tucked my LP guidebook into my pair of jeans and then tucked those into the middle of my pack. He didn’t ask to search my luggage, and I showed him the other books that I had on me. I even showed him the map of Southeast Asia that I had taken from a National Geographic magazine. It was the issue about the Temples at Angkor, and there was some supplementary information on the back of the map. I unfolded it for him, asked him if he was familiar with Angkor Wat. Just sweet and innocent. I think that what they are looking for are maps that label Taiwan as a country separate from China, and they seem to be biased against Lonely Planet. I really don’t think that mine had a map that included Taiwan, but I know bureaucracies well enough not to chance it. I told him that I had no more books. He sent me on my way. Thank goodness! I didn’t want to have to buy a guidebook for the third time on this trip.

I thought that I would have a difficult time understanding the accent in this part of China, but if they speak slowly enough, I understand their Mandarin just fine. When I crossed into Hekou, I was able to find the bus station just by asking around. At the bus station, they automatically called a fellow who could speak English and I told him that I couldn’t buy a ticket just yet because I didn’t have any Yuan. He asked if I had US Dollars and I said that I did. He told me that he would come right away so that he could exchange them for me, and I told him to stay put. I would rather spend hours hunting for a bank than get a lousy exchange rate from some opportunistic parasite. It didn’t take hours, though. It took about 15 minutes of walking before I found an ATM to get some Yuan.

I was thinking of taking an overnight bus to Kunming because I knew it was a long, expensive bus ride and I was hoping to offset the cost of a guesthouse, but it was 12:00pm and I didn’t want to wait around Hekou until 8:00pm. I finally agreed to take the 12:30 bus because they promised me that it would arrive in Kunming around 8:00pm. Not so late to be out looking for a guesthouse.

The landscape in this very southern part of China in between Hekou and Kunming is actually quite stunning. It was worth the added expense to take the bus during the day instead of overnight. It reminded me of Utah with it’s red soil and scrub bushes. It also had some interesting rock formations although it wasn’t the oranges and reds that you see in the American southwest. When we pulled into a rest stop, I knew that this was not a well-tread path for westerners by the squawking of the women serving up the food. I didn’t get all of it, but I heard waiguoren (foreigner) several times, so I knew that they were talking about me. They were all so shocked to see me enjoy eating rice noodles. I did enjoy them. They were hen hao chi (good food).

I paid 137CNY (around $20) for my bus ticket to Kunming and for that price, you think that would have dropped me closer to town. They brought me to the bus station on the very outskirts of the city where I was told that I could not get a local bus that would take me downtown. How the cab drivers swarmed around me! One of them spoke some English, so he felt that I was rightfully his fare. I asked as many people as I could in my broken Chinese if there was a bus going downtown and this little cab driver kept following me around, butting in that there was no such bus. He said that he was a security guard and that I should trust him based on the fact that he had a rent-a-cop uniform. Two young women tried to help me, but they too said that there was no bus going into the city. They did, however, help me haggle with the cab driver over the fare. We all agreed on 40CNY, which he tried to change to 50 once we were walking to the cab. “But it is so far! 20km!“ I stuck to my guns, though. All the way to the guesthouse he talked about how I should trust him because he wanted happy clients. I jumped out, gave him the 40 and climbed the stairs to a guesthouse called The Hump where I would face my first night of sleeping in a dormitory.

The whirlwind is dying down

melissa_k — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 23:30:00 GMT

My small indulgence for today was to get a massage. I didn’t go for the full body massage, but instead I chose the head, neck, hands and foot massage which comes with a medicinal foot soak that has been used by the Red Dao tribe since Jesus was a baby. I had a difficult time relaxing because tomorrow is the border cross into China and I was nervous about it. I have heard that the border patrol confiscates Lonely Planet guidebooks at this particular border, and I didn’t want to give mine up, but I had spent the last 12 hours copying down as much useful information as possible about the Yunnan Province. I was also worried that the border patrol was going to ask for grease money. It’s tough to enjoy a message when you have all of this running through your head.

When I first checked into my hotel they had no power. I thought that this was just a temporary thing, but in the 36 hours that I have been here, the power has been on for about 12 of them. It’s going on all over the neighborhood because the restaurants are out as well. It’s not that I am suffering from the heat or cold, but it would be nice to be able to turn on the television or use the internet. The hotel makes no apologies and offers no incentives for staying with them again. I know that it’s not their fault, but how about a free drink or snack? Not a chance, but they did start work on retiling a bathroom on the floor just above mine. I’ve had to listen to it all afternoon. You know, I am not going to sweat the border procedure tomorrow. If it means moving on out of Vietnam, I’ll let them take the doggone book.

Why go trekking? They all come to Sapa

melissa_k — Mon, 19 Apr 2010 23:25:00 GMT

I’m in Sapa and I find that I am not the least bit interested in taking a tour into the surrounding mountains. I priced several tours and I can afford it if I stick to eating out of food carts and mini-marts, but I don’t want to. God forgive me, I have done enough tours in this country to last for at least three and a half years, maybe four. I’m sure that the trek is worth all of the hassle, and this is a really interesting corner of Vietnam with the many different tribes and stunning mountain scenery. I got a little taste of the diversity when I went to the Vietnam Museum of Ethnology, so I feel a little justified in missing out. Besides, a lot of the hill tribe women come to Sapa to sell their handicrafts which, judging by the blue tint of their hands, are actually done by them and not some factory in China. They crowd around hotels waiting for tourists to emerge and they are so cute and friendly with their rosy cheeks and cheery dispositions. They ask where you are from and how long you have been in town, and so on and so forth. If you chat with them, they will follow you. Even if you stop talking to them, they still follow. I ducked into a store to lose one and she just waited me out.

I don’t know why I settled on the first hotel that I found. I think it is because I was preoccupied with the fact that I had lost the keys to my luggage locks and I wanted to deal with that situation. Also, I was just stunned by the view at my hotel. I got a musty room in a hotel basement with a bathroom that leaks from everywhere, but I got a view. After seeing how crazy expensive food is in this town, I think I should have found a hotel that didn’t have such an impressive view. Not only that, but some Vietnamese b**** that works at the hotel had a good laugh at my expense when I asked if they could help me cut the lock off of my pack. I ignored her and kept a straight face even though I wanted to drop-kick her bony ass into the crowd of waiting hill-tribe women outside the front door.

After finally deciding that I was going to skip the trek into the mountains, I opted for two days with two small luxuries. My luxury for today was to have a meal at Baguette and Chocolate, a patisserie that is also a restaurant management school for Vietnamese kids from poor families. I ordered the chicken and banana flower salad, chocolate and lemon mousse, and a coffee. Everything in the salad except for the peanuts was julienned, and it had a light citrus dressing not unlike that of papaya salad, but without the heat. The chocolate and lemon mousse had just the right balance of sour to sweet and a perfect texture. My only criticism is that the table that I sat down to was sticky and it got all over my computer sleeve. I paid 88,000VND (about $5) for this dinner and for Vietnam, that’s expensive.