Heart of Darkness

We have a friend who traveled the world for over a year.  He reported that he felt closed off and alienated when he got home.  He was distrustful of almost everyone and found it very difficult to merge back into any sort of normal routine.  He spent almost his first full year at college in Bellingham just re-adapting to socializing with his peers.  He often tried to explain it better, but he couldn't really.  He just said he felt like it was really hard to connect with anyone.  He felt like he had hardened as he traveled.  It was as if he became more and more like the worst parts of the people he encountered.  We think we got a brief glimpse of what our friend was talking about during our time in China. 

We were startled at first by the directness and seemingly inconsiderate behavior we witnessed in China.  Certain behaviors felt socially unacceptable to us because of the emphasis on manners and politeness we are taught at an early age, but these behaviors are just how Chinese culture is - it isn't bad, just different.  We were unnerved by the elbows thrown into our backs in subway stations and at popular sights.  We were surprised to watch person after person cut directly to the front of the line at the Beijing West train station.  We often looked at each other, startled, as someone nearby hacked and hacked and hacked until they finally spit loudly and triumphantly onto the sidewalk.  We watched in horror as people casually dropped trash in the street or unloaded piles of garbage into potted trees.  But those were our early days in China.  We never really got used to the hacking, and we never littered (or had to since trash bins were more readily available in China than in Japan, go figure), but soon enough we were shoving our way onto buses and metros.  We often caught ourselves edging people out of the way or pushing innocent bystanders as we walked in crowded areas or queued up for something.  We had to fight fire with fire.  If we didn't push back we would have been bowled over.

Then again, that isn't us.  We would look at each other in shock after one of us pushed our way onto a train, as we often didn't even realize what we had done until after the crime had been committed.  Annette was shocked to see Jeff snap at several hawkers.  He would always feel bad after and vow not to menace at them in the future, but in the heat of the moment some new instinct would just kick in. 

Jeff started referring to such moments as the Heart of Darkness.  Jeff's literary reference is to the 1899 James Conrad novella, The Heart of Darkness, which is, in short, about how a new land can contort and twist one's nature and intentions.  We wouldn't think about our behavior, we would just do as the people around us did, which often meant becoming more rude (from a Western perspective), more physical within crowds, and totally self-centered in regards to strangers.  It was freaky to notice ourselves becoming more and more like the parts we liked (or understood) least about China and the culture.  And the constant barrage of hawkers trying to sell us things and touts trying to take us to hotels and guest houses didn't help either.  The walls went up quickly and were hard to take down.

As we have noted before, there was so much we liked about Chinese culture.  It may have been our favorite country we've visited so far because it was so different from what we are used to and comfortable with.  We are glad that we can talk and remember fondly now the best parts about Chinese culture (the bond between families, genuine kindness, the subtle and remarkable ebb and flow of the massive human machine, and the focus on family and friendships as a healthy foundation, to name a few) changed our perspectives and enlightened us to another way of living.  We are thankful to have been able to visit and experience China, and we apologize to any locals or tourists we may have pushed, cut in front of, ignored, or just plain walked over - It is easy to lose yourself in the Heart of Darkness.

Up Next: Thailand!!

Interlude

We want to take a moment to share a few photos with you. Consider this an interlude, if you will.

In-ter-lude
–noun

1. an intervening episode, period, space, etc.

We mentioned in our Yangshuo post that we were frequently photographed by Chinese tourists while we toured that great land.  Sadly, we have only a small fraction of the actual number taken, but we wanted to share the few we did manage to snap of these precious little moments.

  

Enjoy!

Bonus Shot!

This gem is of a crowd of Chinese tourists gathered around a little white girl (patient mother not pictured).

Interlude concluded.

Next up:  Our last china post, Heart of Darkness

Yangshuo

We'll never forget our time in China and the multitude of jaw-dropping newness (new sights, new sounds, new smells, new tastes, and new experiences) we took in every day.  But, if we're being completely honest (as we try to do here), we came to China for a few sights and experiences in particular.  And one of the most iconic things to us, the one that stuck out in both of our minds when we first started tossing around the idea of visiting China, was the rugged karst scenery of the Yangshuo area.

These mesmerizing karst rocks can be seen in the film The Painted Veil, with Naomi Watts and Edward Norton.  Also click here for some very pretty images.

The path to the rural areas where the karst rocks are most spectacular goes through the hot, sticky city of Guilin.  Many travelers stop here for just a few days before pushing on, often by a four and a half hour cruise, to the smaller and more charming town of Yangshuo.  We spent one night in Guilin, ate a few tasty things, checked out the city's most famous karst sculptures, and just kept on going.  Less than 24 hours in Guilin was plenty for us.  We were really after the rural towns and farming areas where we stayed for four nights outside of Yangshuo.  And our hikes and bicycle rides around these areas were some of the most unique and memorable moments we have had on this trip, or any other.

Yangshuo, like Guilin, is a very touristy town.  Actually, the rivers and caves we visited as we explored the alien scenery near our sanctuary (The Giggling Tree) were awfully touristy too.  But it makes sense.  Tourism has exploded around this area and as a result there are pushy hawkers everywhere.  There were even platforms installed in one river for selling food, beer, and photos taken and printed of raft-riding tourists (like us) snapped as they splashed down small drops. So it wasn't as if this was a raw, untouched haven, free of all tourist traps, gimmicks, and kitsch.  It had plenty to go around.  But (and this is a but bigger than Bertha's) if you hopped on a bicycle and rode for a while you were guaranteed to see some authentic rural farms, people, and Chinese daily life.


We partook in some of the more touristy activities while staying in the Yangshuo area, and enjoyed them very much.  We shopped a fair bit, buying plenty of gifts and items for our home.  We took an excellent cooking class where we learned about some mystery foods that had us scratching our heads since Japan at the Yangshuo market and how to use a wok with some (limited) skill.  We took two river rides, one on a raft made of thick plastic pipes and another made from bamboo.  We rolled in mud while trekking through caves we're pretty sure are actually man-made tunnels created for tourists.  We did all the touristy things, but we also had some of our most authentic moments of our travels through Asia so far.  We encountered toothless old men smiling from ear-to-ear, cycled past farmers and water buffalo hard at work, and got the chance to peek into the villages and homes of folks who lived out in the country.  Not people who worked in the tourist industry, but just normal country folks living their lives.

 One of our favorite encounters was with an old, wrinkled, leather-skinned man, standard straw hat included, and his two water buffalo.  One of the buffalo was obviously older and the other still quite young.  The larger one took off running just before we passed, clearing a small ditch and sprinting up a slight incline.  The smaller buffalo took off in pursuit but stumbled and took an awkwardly hilarious spill as it tried to jump the ditch.  It got up and tried to look nonchalant.  We laughed at the cuteness and clumsiness of the small buffalo's fall and looked to the old man as we did.  He looked from the buffalo to us and gave an amused chuckle.  We shared a moment with the man, all three of us briefly bonding over the adorable mishap.

We crossed paths with many villagers as we hiked and biked the roads and trails connecting small clusters of homes and farms in the rural region we grew to love.  No matter how grumpy or distrusting some of the villagers looked at first glance, they invariably brightened up when we offered a friendly "Nihao" as we passed.  Their guarded expressions would drop and their faces would widen to make room for genuine, and often toothless, smiles as they responded wholeheartedly: "Nihao!"

Many of the homes along our journeys were just basic brick dwellings, usually with a large open front room filled only with a Buddhist alter, a few seats, a light bulb or two and a TV.  Every home we could see into had a TV, but normally there wasn't much else.  We really felt lucky to see so many people doing their normal daily thing.  And it was refreshing since most Chinese people that talked to us, in cities large or small, usually wanted to sell us something.  Often in South Korea people approached us with their children, eager to try to give them a chance to practice English.  We loved talking to Koreans young and old whether the conversation was as brief as saying "Hello, how are you?" or more complicated, involving our ages, occupations, and marital status.  In both South Korea and China people approached us for photos.  But in China there was often less explanation.  Usually people just sidled up to us with large grins, glancing from us to their friend with a camera and back to us.  But most often if we were approached by a stranger in China it was because they wanted to sell us stuff.  Strangers in big cities whispered offers of bags, iPhones, and watches.  While strangers in smaller cities and towns shoved food and small trinkets at us, eager for us to make a purchase.  In the rural areas outside Yangshuo though, people just said "Nihao" out of kindness.  There were some hawkers and tourist bits, like we mentioned, but it was marvelous to feel like we were exchanging words and sharing moments with other people.  The forced sales transaction doesn't feel personal.  Our encounters with farmers and villagers below the magnificent karst did.

Our cycle and walking trips through the small villages were fascinating, but we never forgot to look up and around at the astounding karst.  These stone monoliths pushed ever upwards all around us.  And they seemed to go on forever!  The villages and people were amazing alone, but experiencing both while surrounded by such immense natural beauty was truly special.  Our time in the Yangshuo area is something we'll never forget!

Tiger Leaping Gorge

The evening before our hike

A short detour on the more traveled route through China is a two to four day trip to Tiger Leaping Gorge from Lijiang.  TLG (as we'll call it from here on) is so named because according to legend, a tiger escaping a hunter leapt across the giant gorge at its narrowest point (25 meters), clearing the mighty Yangtze in the process.  TLG is considered the Grand Canyon of China and is a contender for the world's deepest gorge.  Not for the weak or acrophobic, a trail leads through TLG from one end to the other. Most people hike in two days, while others break it up into much more leisurely chunks and hike it over the course of three or four days. We hiked most of the trail in one exhausting and exhilarating 13 hour day. (We think about 10 or 11 of those hours were actual hike time.)  Once we made the trip and the ensuing hike, we could easily see why so many travelers list hiking Tiger Leaping Gorge as a highlight of their time in China.. 

The side trip to TLG took two nights and introduced us to a few characters - some were travelers, some

"Want to come with us?"

were TLG locals, and some were dogs.  Yes, nearly every backpacker we met who was doing China for more than two weeks hiked TLG, but this particular backpacker experience was not overrated.  The hike was moderate to easy the entire way, with the exception of one section near the beginning called the "dreaded" 28 bends, a series of vertical switchbacks.  The views, however, ranged from spectacular to breathtaking.  We were consistently awed during our 13 hour, 22 km trek.  The trail would rise and fall along one wall of the canyon.  We never really got up to the tip-top, as you do at the Grand Canyon, but the sheer cliffs, steep drops, towering mountains, and raging river below did seem best viewed from our middle-road course.

After one hikes such a remarkable path, a path that could easily be the best hike of his or her life, one may want to meet the individual responsible for creating such a wonderful thing.  We had that opportunity, and, to be honest, it was a little sad.  Sean is a legend around TLG.  According to painted signs on boulders along the trail, "SEAN IS YOUR TRAILBLAZER!"  The Lonely Planet book for China (apparently in need of an update) notes that Sean is one of the true characters of TLG and made his guesthouse, toward the far end of the trail from where we started, sound like the ONLY place to stay.  We were so excited to have a beer with fellow hikers and swap stories with the legendary Sean.  His reputation most definately proceeded him.  His reputation also failed him.  Rather, he failed his reputation.  The Sean we found was cranky and bitter.  He spent much of the time we were there on the phone, we think trying to get in touch with Lonely Planet.  He ranted to us a bit about how the section in Lonely Planet about his Guesthouse was inaccurate.  He said it needed to depict his digs better.  We looked around.  We were the only people staying there, and, worst of all, the lively and fun-loving Sean that LP had promised was missing.  The one we got was clearly a bitter shade of the original Sean.  

Sean was complaining and moaning and wining about injustices others did him, but it seemed clear to us that he was the reason for the slump in his business.  His bitterness bummed us out and ensured that we would recommend staying almost anywhere else to other travelers we encountered.  It was sad and fascinating: We watched him dig his hole deeper in just the few short hours we stayed with him.  The most sad part of Sean's bitterness and general gloom is that TLG is one of the most beautiful natural scenes we have seen.  How can someone be so bitter while being surrounded by such magnificent natural scenery?

A river runs through

We shook Sean and his grumpy cloud of bitterness off and did not let him bother our overall experience.  We marveled at the small farms and clusters of dwelling we had seen. We chattered about the sweeping and surreal views.  The mountains felt like they were on top of us!  We enjoyed watching goat herders at work, and delighted in some surprisingly tasty food served up by cheerful faces running guesthouses along the path.  We loved that we saw so few other hikers.  We walked for an hour or two a couple times without seeing anyone.  We took photos and stopped to smooch and hold hands, awe-struck by the amazing path an ancient, enormous version of the Yangtzee carved in the giant rocks.  Nature, we thought, is our true trailblazer.  Yes, we could not have walked the path without Sean, or someone like him, to formalize the trail.  But the raw beauty we saw on our TLG hike reminded us that nature, not us, not Bill Gates, not Barak Obama, or even Sean, the trailblazer, is in charge.  Nature creates and destroys.  Natural beauty trumps all and makes life worth living.  We hope that Sean will look around at his amazing surroundings, his heavenly backdrop, someday soon and remember why he blazed that trail in the first place.


Whew! That was a lot of words.  But still not enough to accompany all of our favorite photos. So here they are, over-spill style!

 

Things We Liked About China, Part Five

Pandas!

The reason most travelers go to Chengdu is to see giant pandas at the Chengdu Research Base.  Our reason for going to Chengdu wasn't much different.  For us, going to China and not seeing the Giant Panda, would be like going to Paris and not seeing the Eiffel Tower.

Now, it can be argued that if it weren't for the breeding efforts pandas would be extinct already.  Even when it comes to eating (their most important daily task) pandas are super lazy.  Pandas only eat one thing: Bamboo.  They eat a lot of it, but still have to move slow and deliberate-like to conserve energy.  They eat for a few hours in the morning, then sleep the rest of the day.  Its like a whole species with the motivation and energy levels of teenage male humans.  Eat. Sleep. Repeat.  Everything in-between is done at sloth-like speeds.  We wondered, "If pandas weren't super de-duper cute, would they be extinct already?"  They move at super slow speeds for everything they do.  We saw two pandas wrestling, and even that was looked like slow-mo. 

Seeing pandas is one thing.  Getting to hold and interact with them is another thing all together. A gentleman who shared a tour with us to the research and breeding base paid around $150 (US) to hold a baby panda.  We're glad we didn't find the area where holding pandas was an option until after we left, because we would have had a difficult decision to make: To hold and pay, or not to hold and not pay (that is like 15 meals for us in China!)?  On the one hand, When are we going to have another chance to hold a panda, right?  On the other, geez that is a lotta dolla-dolla bills.  But since we never knew we had the option to trade a hundred-plus dollars for a few photos of one of us holding a panda, we never had to make that tough call.

Speaking of tough calls, the debate about whether China's stewardship of the giant panda has been beneficial or detrimental is an even more heated and complicated one than the question of holding and paying.  But, in the midst of all of these hard decisions, putting Chengdu in our China itinerary was an easy one. Three words: Pandas, pandas, pandas!  We loved our few hours of bouncing from enclosure to enclosure, snapping photos of pandas, and learning about the "sensual" details of panda breeding all the while.  Pandas, even if they aren't sneezing, are really amazing to see in person.  We felt grateful to have the opportunity to get as close as we did to the amazing animals, and came away from the experience feeling as though we had just experienced something special!

We can write all we want, but the best way to tell you about the pandas is through photos. So, special, just for you, an orgy of panda photos. Enjoy!

Lets play a game: How many pandas can you find?

Panda smoking, or panda eating? You decide.

Panda coitus

Panda siesta

Recognize that look from Thanksgiving?

Pandas do two things really well: eat and sleep.

Panda wrestling match

Things We Liked About China, Part Four

 The sleeper trains!

Why don't Americans use the modern miracle known as the sleeper train more often to traverse our large Country? That is the big question we were left with after using sleeper trains for three legs of our travel in China (1. Beijing to Xi'an; 2. Lijiang to Kunming; and 3. Guilin to Hong Kong).  We saved hundreds of dollars in China by using sleeper trains to cover long distances.  You get transportation for 700 or 800 kilometers and a place to sleep for as little as about $40 (the most we paid for a sleeper train birth was about $65).  The third thing to consider when you buy a sleeper train ticket in China, which is even more important than the money saved by traveling and sleeping at the same time, is that you are paying for an authentic and unique experience each ride as well.

There are two common classes of sleeper train cars in China - We rode in the roomier Soft Sleeper car our first ride, which has four beds, a door, AC, and personal reading lights.  Our second and third sleeper train journeys were in the much cheaper and  "inferior" Hard Sleeper class. We discovered that the extra money for a soft car wasn't really worth it.  In fact, we found that the hard sleeper cars gave us more for less money, since they connected us with people that better represented the average Chinese traveler.

The worst part of the first trip was getting the tickets at the train station, Beijing West.  The station was hot, loud, crowded, and chaotic.  We spent over an hour in what seemed like hell trying to find out where
to go (the English counter was labeled in Chinese, naturally) and waiting in line.  Lines all over China are subject to major cuts-ies.  People in China are just starting to get the (forced) hang of lining up for things, and cutting (especially foreigners) is still totally acceptable (probably because it isn't considered cutting, but just getting to the window before the other guy did).  But we left the train station a bit exhilarated, chattering about the experience.  It was miserable while we were there, but it turned out to be a very memorable and telling Chinese experience.

The second train trip was a really crappy night of sleep.  That was due more to the herky-jerky nature of the ride than the beds or our roommates.  The third trip was no problem at all. In fact, it was probably our best night of sleep even though it was in a "hard" car.  We enjoyed going to sleep in China and waking up so close to Hong Kong that all we had to do was walk through customs and across the border!


Some may scoff at the sound of someone actually liking Chinese sleeper trains.  Yes, you have to try to go to the bathroom over a small hole open directly to the tracks below while you are tossed around like a cow in a tornado.  And yes, you have to share small, cramped spaces with people unaccustomed to Western formalities and manners, which means loud, guttural hacking before bed and in the morning, sneaked cigarettes and the foul smell that follows, and loud talking into all hours of the night.  But the beds were more comfortable than some of the hostels and guesthouses we stayed at in China.  Plus, you can't forget that you are killing three birds with one stone (traveling, sleeping, and getting a new, authentic experience). The third bird was our favorite bird to kill.  Without a doubt.  Jeff has a marvelous image stuck in his head from our third sleeper train trip.  It is of  little kid, probably three or four, cuddling up in a cramped bed that suddenly seemed enormous. He was super cute since he was much too small for the bed, pillow, and blankets. And he watched his family get ready for bed in their tiny compartment with a look of pure happiness on his face.  He wasn't just comfy in his huge sleeper train bed, he was at home. 

We absolutely preferred the "lesser" hard sleeper cars, as we enjoyed traveling with so many "regular" people.  Seeing how Chinese people, many with far less money than a typical American, travel their enormous country became an experience in itself.  Sure, we had six total beds and no door, but we also felt like we were as close as we could get to the people we traveled so far to connect with.  And that's the point, isn't it?

Things We Liked About China, Part Three

The Architecture!

The architecture in Shanghai and Hong Kong took our breath away.  Hundreds of tons of glass and steel rise like monuments out of the earth, reaching for the sky.  Much of the architectural beauty we enjoyed in China was derived from contrasts.

Hong Kong's impressive collection of modern skyscrapers, for example, appear to spring directly from the jungle.  The islands that make up Hong Kong lend drama when seen from above.  It is very much a city of layers: Islands float on murky blue water, a jungle of plants and animals lends deep green and a symphony of bird and insect sounds, and enormous buildings tower above it all - a reminder of the magnificent and stirring art humans can create.

One side of The Bund...

 In Shanghai, the old is sharply contrasted with the new in the area of town known as The Bund.  One side of The Bund feels like old London, while the other side looks like a city of the future.  The historical side has 20 or 30 buildings built in art deco and other European and Greco-Roman styles from the late 1800s and early 1900s.  The buildings across the river are all skyscrapers, and their weight is increased by the old-timey feel of the ones behind you. The contrast is particularly amazing at night.

...And the other!

Shanghai has another area called the French Concession.  This area often felt like Paris or New Orleans, and the sandwiches we had at a popular coffee shop there made us feel like we were back in the States (we white people LOVE our fancy sandwiches).  French bakeries and plenty of Western food also fill the French Concession, and we spent the better part of two days getting lost in and loving this splendid slice of Shanghai.

Lijiang (Old Town = VERY touristy)

Unfortunately, many of China's truly old buildings, homes, and temples have been demolished to make way for its seemingly unstoppable development.  On the one hand, China's largest cities are dazzling in their modernity.  On the other, China has had to artificially rebuild and recreate old cultural heritage sights (see Dali and Lijiang) because they realized their significance too late.  The destruction of such gems is heartbreaking, but, on the up-side, China is getting better about identifying such landmarks and future tourist attractions, so hopefully the older, and even odd ancient, architectural examples that remain will stand the test of China's crashing wave of development.


Notes:


Here are a few photos of some more traditional and Communist Chinese architecture:

Three Pagodas, Dali, China

Dali , China

Bell Tower/Traffic Circle, Xi'an, China

Green Lake Park, Kunnming, China

Chengdu, China

Beijing, China

Honorable mention for "Place With the Most Interesting Architecture from Our Trip thus Far" goes to Macau.  This small island is the Las Vegas of the East, netting more revenue annually than our desert gambling hole.  The Portuguese are responsible for much of the architecture, but many of the buildings made Annette feel like she was back in the Caribbean.  Here are some of our favorite architecture photos from Macau:  

Macau

Macau

Macau

Macau

Las Vegas. Er...uh, we mean Macau. We think...

More of the Vegas-area of Macau