Blog Update: I will be in Hibernation for a while

So yes, I've still got June 11,12, and 13th to write about-----I know you can't wait to hear about my sleeper bus experience and about my love for Hong Kong milk tea...

However, since I've been in the Philippines (since June 13), so much has happened in terms of personal growth and knowledge about the country, about Filipinos, and especially about my family (uncovering stories and lessons). So the past few weeks, I've been all around Southwest Luzon and in the last week, all over metro Manila and in Makati. I can't express the gratitude I have nor the excitement for what's next to come.

*****I'm beginning to find alot of purpose and meaning, but I'm still processing it all***

Tonight is my last night in Makati, and then I will be departing for Antipolo (Rizal province) to stay with my host family and start my work with my nongovernmental placement....

So what does this mean?

It means that for now, it may be the last form of communication (depending on the internet/computer situtation and work schedule). If I do not post for a while, then I will definitely do it sometime in the end of August/beginning of September. I will update everyone then (so sorry!).

But for now, I bid you adieu until the next entry (again, to finish up on the China experience and then to write a bit more on the Philippines).

Love and miss everyone----

Saturday Thoughts of Yangshou

Some of you have commented on my titles. So, I’ve decided to make my subtitles just as interesting. I have divided this entry into three sub-sections:

1. How “Frodo-the-Friendly” could not evade the Old Chinese Lady
2. Our Light show experience: a prelude to Olympics 2008?
3. " God Save the Queen” and the DJ that played Dr. Dre

If you think they are interesting subjects, read on.

How “Frodo-The-Friendly” could not evade the Old Chinese Lady

Today, we rented some bikes and took a Saturday afternoon bike ride towards Moon Hill, a traveler’s attraction here in Yangshou. The bike ride was about 45 minutes towards the hill, and we passed by the same type of tall skinny “hills” that looked like large mounds. They are everywhere and its shape is very surreal. It is a beautiful sight to see and take photos. Along our ride, we also saw parts of the Li River, where you can watch the bamboo river tours take place. We were hoping to get off the beaten path and take a more rugged biker’s route, however we may have missed the route entrance because before we knew it, we finally arrived at the foot of the mountain, where we parked our rented bikes outside. The sun was at full blast today, but we were prepared to go on our hike up the hill.

Almost immediately a swarm of Chinese women approached us—their english was pretty good and they seemed friendly. But we soon realized that they were there to sell expensive food and juice. We kindly declined, but one of the women stuck by us, asking “how about a little later? Later on?” She kept following us into the Moon Hill park entrance and suddenly I understood what was happening. The group of women were there to sell their goods, and each woman was “assigned” to a given group of tourists seeking to climb the hill. Could the hill be so bad that tourists would be forced to buy a cold sprite or mango juice? It was a total business. However, we declined and continued on.

With our assigned “drink lady” at our tails, we hiked a long set of stairs, passing by some Norwegians (who also had their “assigned lady”). We had to stop every 5 or 10 minutes to rest, and when we turned around, our drink lady was still there! At one of the stops, as we were trying to politely decline the offers, two Irish guys were trying to run up some stairs. In fact, they were trying to run away because they were being chased by another drink lady, who wanted to sell them a drink as well! One of them (who looked like Frodo from Lord of the Rings) said “cheers” to us and kept on. I started to giggle at the scene as these robust women followed them. Soon, all of us, including Frodo-the-Friendly, started laughing at the whole scene and he sarcastically asked if there was an elevator around.

We finally made it to one part of the “hump” of the mountain top and there we took photos (again with our drink lady waiting for us). Then it was on to a 10 minute uphill climb on a muddy trail to reach the top of Moon Hill, which we made. As we hiked up, we saw Frodo-the-Friendly and friend make their descent down. All this time, the drink lady was behind. We stood at the top of Moon Hill, realizing our amazing feat. We were sweaty, tired, mosquito-bitten, and now hungry. Our calves had gotten their work out for the day and now it was time to return back. Admittedly, the drink ladies added an extra workout challenge since we wanted to evade them. It was another 30 minutes down the hill and a hop back on our bikes. But, in the end, I would consider the hike on Moon Hill great and it amazes me that those drink ladies do this the whole day—hiking up the hill and back. They must be in good shape and they could possibly be amazing athletes. Before we left, our drink lady showed us a book where tourists signed. It included some foreign coins. I pulled out a US quarter and gave it to her and she taped it next to the other foreign coins in her book.

As we left, we saw a bunch of shirtless Australians, apparent expert hikers (without shirts for all you ladies) running up the hill. But they were doing it not to evade their drink lady, but to get a good work out. Their drink lady, huffing and puffing, was still attempting to follow them. Amazing.

Later that night in our hostel, I commented to my traveling mates about Frodo-the-Friendly and his interaction with the drink ladies. We turned around to head down the stairs to see a light show that evening and lo and behold, Frodo-the-Friendly was heading up the stairs and he squeezed in a “hi” to us. In fact, I learned that they were a couple of rooms down from us. Crap, I hope he didn’t hear my nickname for him! But, my advice (and lesson) to him from earlier in the hike would be: The only way to evade an old Chinese “drink lady” is to act like a shirtless Australian and run the hell up that hill.

Evening Light Show experience: a prelude to Olympics 2008?

That evening, the three of us had dinner and then paid for the town’s 7:30 PM light show, which was directed and by a famous Chinese choreographer (who contributed to “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” and “Hero”, I believe). We met some Americans along the way, who had been teaching English in China for the last year. It turned out we were all sitting next to each other in an outdoor Greek-style theatre, which faced a still lake. The amazing large green hills were in the background and we sat in an anxious state of darkness until the program began.

Then, in the next hour or so, we saw Chinese actors on bamboo rafts move to the music beats between white spotlights. Actors were dressed in local Chinese garb and they held torches to light certain romantic scenes. Near the end, a large lighted floating moon skimmed the water and lines of Chinese actors donned lighted costumes, moving to the flowing choreography.

In the end, the show was worth watching, and I could only think about what will be in store for the world when Beijing hosts the opening Olympics ceremony ---centuries of cultural dances and music mixed in with modern lighting and perfected acrobatics. Romantic slow beats and operatic singing mixed in with fast drums and skilled footwork. It would definitely rock.

“God Save the Queen” and the DJ that played Dr. Dre

Okay, last story for the evening. Fast forward to our return to the main street, where on a Saturday night, people were out and about. So there we were, exhausted but sitting at a local bar. We were very satisfied from a great hike earlier in the day and a light show in the evening. All we wanted to do was watch a World Cup game and perhaps party it up a bit! We dropped by a bar that had people glued to the screen as England just scored a goal against its opponent. We sat and ordered some drinks and I also ordered some banana crepes—random food, I know. While we watched, one of the Chinese waitresses showed us (or reminded us) how to play Chinese checkers.

Suddenly, victory by England! Within seconds, the bar owner played the English national anthem on the speakers! Four men stood up (one on his chair) and started singing to it. It was funny. The song ended, and as they turned to leave, we realized, it was the same Australians that hiked up Moon Hill! This time, they had their shirts.

We smiled as we left the bar for a couple of other bars that played hip-hop music. We found an amazing DJ, who didn’t have any Justin Timberlake songs, but he sure knew Common, Dr. Dre and Snoop Dog. And so, we danced the night away among the locals and tourists as we danced and rapped out loud to “California Love”. The bar locals probably thought we were funny Asian girls as we chanted, “L.A, where you at?!” but guess what? We attracted a crowd and before we knew it, the semi-filled dance floor became full. Yeah, that’s what happens when you’re with us. Peace out until the next episode (or entry!!).

The Fellowship breaks, but the journey continues towards Guilin and Yangshou

It was 6:35 AM and we heard a knock on the door—it was Reyna. Yikes! Our alarm clock did not wake us up, so Arlene and I had to quickly get our backpacks and bags read. Our taxi was meeting us in 10 minutes. It was our last day and final day in Yunnan and we had a full schedule of traveling today.

The final four was going to become the final three. Nancy plans would take her to Taiwan before returning to the states. The rest of us would stay together until the 12th or 13th of June. Then, my next stop would be the Philippines.

But that was still a couple of days away, and today, we had to catch our morning flight from Lijiang to Kunming and then take a bus from Kunming to Guilin. The plan was not to stay in Guilin but to take another bus to nearby Yangshou. Only an hour away from Guilin, Yangshou is backpacker friendly and has a lot of shopping and hiking opportunities. I realized that we were doing a lot of transportation transferring today!

At the airport, Reyna, Arlene and I played some a Filipino card game called “Posoy Dos” before boarding our flight. Once it was time to board, we couldn’t take off. A fight started to brew a couple of seats from us. Apparently, the flight had overbooked their seats and a Chinese couple had become very angry with the airline stewardess. People joined in on the ruckus (mind you, it’s all in Chinese), with some people blaming the airline and others motioning for the Chinese couple to get off. The head stewardess started approaching people, asking them if they would give up their seats, but more people grew angry because of the delay in flight. Finally, after 20 minutes, three fashionably young Chinese women got fed up and took their Burberry decorated bags from the overhead compartment. It appeared that they decided they would take the compensation for giving up their seat. Or perhaps they were fed up with the whole debacle. Suddenly, the whole plane filled with clapping in admiration for their actions, and before we knew it, we were up in the air. Again, this whole scene was in Chinese, but it was the conclusion that we three Asian-Americans ended up with as we witnessed the whole thing. We even understood some of the Chinese words used! (Side note: After being in the country for two weeks, you do pick up Chinese because you are forced to speak it in areas that do not speak English. It definitely builds confidence and challenges you to be involved in your traveling).

There is a definitely change of scenery you get as you head towards south Asia. From the plane, we made two bus transfers. As we rode and transferred to our bus towards Yangshou, I realized that there was a lot of beauty in the green lands that contrast an overcast rainy sky. You also see the most interesting type of mountains—they look like giant mole hills covered with forests and rocks. However, you cannot ignore the humidity. It is everywhere. It also begins to look less like the rural and open spaces of Yunnan. Instead, there are noisy buses, and you can definitely see the mixture of both the poor and working class. You can also see different types of faces, which have a more of a south-east Asian mix. There are streets lined with every day shops and restaurants, as mass transportation combines with every day life.

In the humidity, we finally arrived in Yangshou, after a full day of traveling with heavy backpacks. As soon as we fought our way through a crowd of Chinese that wanted to advertise housing (we were obvious with our large backpacks), we were immediately approached by a Hostel owner on a motorcycle. He was advertising his hostel. However, we already had one in mind, which would place us in the middle of Xi Jie street and in the middle of shops, restaurants, bars, and internet cafes (yes!). But where was it? Looking around an intersection, we spotted two white tourists and asked for directions. In no time, we found ourselves at our hostel, in the lively street of Xi Jie. There were a ton of cute shops (I know I mention this a lot) and restaurants—many of them advertising “western food” to cater to tourists. But it didn’t have the negative feeling of tourism-instead it just felt, very “alive” and bustling.

Another bonus was that many of the restaurants hosted World Cup viewing nights with drink specials. I remember as we were walking around the main street, we looked around and then at each other: it was time to have some more fun!

But not until tomorrow since we were tired. Tomorrow, we make the most of our day and a half in the streets of Yangshou.

My Free Day and some old and random Musings

6/8/06: Today, as a group we decided to just take it easy because we’ve been traveling around and touring full-time every day for the last week. I’m glad we did it, because it helped us recuperate and hang out in our last day traveling as a group. Tomorrow, we would be leaving Yunnan, some of us making our way towards Hong Kong, others leaving for other cities. So, I’m using this entry to include any tidbits I forgot to mention, including a brief description about another person we met in Shangri-La a few days ago, Mr. Abu Wandui.

I bring with me a list of travel writing tips that I printed from some online site before I left the states. I find the list useful and look at it every now and then whenever I need some writing inspiration or to remind me what to look out for when I’m journaling. One tip was: “Work in quotes from visitors…or the participants of a particular activity, and let them express their thoughts about how they feel about a place or activity.”

Another tip was, “Get involved in scenes as you travel.” A good reminder about why you’re there in the first place.

When we were in Shangri-La, we happened to come across an outside brown gate for an old house that had some newspaper articles posted in both Chinese and English. As we were reading about the history of the house, an old Tibetan man, who introduced himself as Mr. Abu Wandui, came out and started talking with us. Nancy identified herself as Taiwanese and instantly, he invited us into his home to talk about his life when he was imprisoned, during the Cultural Revolution and the house.

Mr. Abu Wandui took us to a dark room, and turned on his flashlight; as he pointed to certain parts of the wall, the light would reveal inscriptions or faces of Chinese rulers. He would continue talking about the age and history of the house and its history through various dynasties. He also pointed to a traditional Buddhist shrine. There were many currencies from other countries at the foot of the shrine. He handed us an information sheet and talked about the attempts to preserve his home. After he talked, we took some pictures with him and we gave a small donation, which he placed alongside the US currencies. We left, unsure what to believe, but also pondering how much the Cultural Revolution affected these communities. If at all, it was an interesting encounter, exchange, and visit to an old house in Shangri-La.

That evening, I watched a Chinese soap opera that had a white foreigner in it. Throughout the trip I would watch different shows, including some soap operas, previews of Chinese Idol (American Idol spin off), game shows, and/or the news. So here I was, now enthralled with this particular sh0w because it had one was British, and the other---had to be American. When they spoke Chinese—it was good, real good. Their acting, on the other hand, was bad, real bad. In fact, I pictured in my head, that maybe this American dude was a theatre major in some east coast Ivy league school but wasn’t good (looking) enough to walk the Hollywood red carpet. During college, he probably won a prestigious summer scholarship in China to probably study Chinese acrobatic theatre. Then, during the course of his studies, he probably found a theatre niche in the country and realized he could be idolized in entertainment. So, he learned Chinese, moved his residency to Shanghai and now—viola, he’s pursued his life long dream of acting, albeit on the other side of the world.

See what a day off can do? Haha just kidding.

Google Me: How We Found Dr. Ho, a world-renowned herb specialist

There are many “must sees” in China that I have previously mentioned, but now I want to tell you how we met Dr. Ho, an herb specialist who became famous by a foreign travel writer many years ago. In fact, if you open many of the guide books on China, you will see Dr. Ho’s biography and clinic listed in the Lijiang section.

Here’s our story.

That morning, we rented bikes in old town Lijiang, which is a must for anyone visiting. We planned to take a bike ride in Lijiang’s country side (towards Yulong Snow Mountain) and stop by some temples on the way back. The phrase, “It’s like riding a bike” could not have been more appropriate since the last time I rode one was in 8th or 9th grade of high school. But I had to put all my trust in that truism. As the girls outfitted their bikes, I hoped on mine—at first wobbly—a bit rusty—and then, success! I secured my small messenger bag on me, folded our route map, checked my water supply, and applied my sunscreen. Then we were off from Old Town Lijiang, through New Town, and towards the mountains.

I probably can’t describe the intense feeling of freedom and awe as you take the path (both paved and unpaved). You bike along acres of farmland, and it is inevitable not to stop along the way to take photos of the landscape. The road takes you out of city life to bluer skies, mothers knitting alongside their babies and cows grazing. It even rained for a few minutes, but afterwards, we saw a rainbow that stretched far into the mountains.

Each of us would ride like bikers on the Tour De France, taking the lead over the group at various points during our ride. However, two hours into the ride, we were hitting some major uphill climbing. Steep. And after we stopped to ask some local security guards how far we had to go to our major destination, the Yuteng Temple, they told us it would be uphill for 3 kilometers.

Hmmm.

As a group, we decided to turn around and visit another temple that we passed, since it was late afternoon and we needed to eat dinner and return before it got dark. I knew I had gotten a good two-hour workout in, and it would be another two hour workout on the way back.

We visited a temple that housed the “Baisha Frescoes of Lijiang”. The frescoes were painted during the Ming Dynasty and damaged from the Cultural Revolution. You see a lot of black, red, yellow colors and I even noticed that some of the drawings of people depicted halos on their heads. A quick copy/paste from my ticket stub gives more information about the Frescoes, “The Baisha Frescoes are a very important historic and cultural research resource for the Naxi culture. The State Council listed it as the national preserved cultural relics...in 1997”

Also, here is one more interesting piece of information which Nancy told us. A very common Naxi last name is “mu” which, in Chinese, means“wood”. The reason Lijiang, which houses a lot of Naxi people, does not have walls around its city is because the Chinese character for “wood” can easily mean “trapped” (kun) if a box is written around the character for wood. Hence, Lijiang does not have walls boxing in the city.

Okay at this point, you’re probably saying, “Bring out Dr. Ho!” Well, I’m getting there! We finished visiting the temple and started exiting out, only to meet more touristy vendors. During that walk, Arlene noticed a clinic for a “Dr. Ho”. We entered this small white clinic, and the first thing you notice are hanging newspaper articles, business cards, and letters—all encased in sheet protectors. There were two backpacking tourists already there in a side room, talking to a Chinese guy. The floor was a bit dusty, but it had the look of a clinic: white floors and walls, and counter space. No one appeared in this main room.

We walked a bit further and looked around the room, curious at all the paperwork hanging from the ceiling and on the walls. I even saw some prescription sheets scattered along the countertops. I peered into what looked like a doorway to a backyard, and there he was, strolling through some of the tall herbs in the garden. In a crumpled white doctor’s overcoat, he bent over slightly to touch a leaf and hold it close to his nose. He had dark skin and had silver hair and I think a slight gray wiry goatee. Behind him, two women were tending to the garden.

And then, he realized that four Asian girls were staring at him through the doorway and suddenly he stood up, “welcome, welcome to my clinic!”

Instantly, a woman brought four cups of herbal tea for us, which tasted like licorice. Whenever one of us finished a cup, she would instantly appear again, for a refill.

Dr. Ho asked if we were tourists and we told him we were from the states. Even before we could ask, we started with the story that made him famous, when a foreign travel writer wrote about him in a book. He talked about his herbs, and about the people he’s met from all over the world to visit the clinic and even get some samples of herbs for their ailments. He pointed to batch of letters that asked Dr. Ho to send them herb medicine and to thank him for healing them.

Arlene made the bold move and mentioned her mother’s sore knee. In a flash, he took us into a room with shelves that were lined with red baskets. Each basket contained a pile of grounded herbs. Dr. Ho disappeared into the back and came out with a large piece of brown paper. He started going through the shelves and expertly grabbed handfuls of certain herbs and mixed it on the brown paper. He pulled out a sheet of instructions for Arlene and told her that the mixture would need to be put externally on the outside (not to be taken orally) on the knee for a couple of months. He then folded the brown paper and sealed it with a traditional Chinese stamp and his name (so airport customs would know what the powder was for).

After talking more with him, we thanked Dr. Ho with a small donation and took some photos of him. He told us that if we needed anything, including more herbs, to contact him. He told us, “Just Google me.”

Wow. It has become more than a noun-turned-verb. “Google me” is now used by an old Chinese doctor, in the rural outskirts of south west China. Dr. Ho probably said it best when he also told us: “The world is getting smaller now (as he referred to the information superhighway). So, just Google me”

I was a bit taken a back, eyebrows raised but smiled at the realization that Google is just the beginning of the pervasive nature of the internet and its ability to not just provide information but now connect the Chinese with the rest of the world, with implications being watched by the rest of the international community.

It was that type of conversation that I had on the bike ride back, which was nice and breezy and with most of the way downhill. I talked with Nancy a little bit more about the politics in China and about democracy, and student movements, education, and even a little on religious freedom. At what expense do you censor your population, for industrial development and unity? Or, is it needed in order to economically develop and hence, giving up some liberties is necessary to build your country? At what point after you reach those economic goals does transparency and respect for liberties occur? Is it encouraged or is it simply caused by the forces contributing to the liberalization of an economy? Ignorant voting population vs. informed populace. Did our own founding forefathers really trust the popular vote?

China is rapidly changing and I remember some good advice from a friend of mine who said, don’t pay for more than $0.50 (US dollars) in China. After China’s inclusion in the WTO, I’d say, don’t pay more than $4 or $5 (in US dollars) in China. But, I guess it depends on what you’re buying, and how well you bargain!

Well, I’ll leave you with those thoughts to ponder. As we returned to Old Town, tired, and immensely hungry, we turned in our bikes for headed for some good food at a local Naxi restaurant back. A few of us used the internet and “SKYPED” (a way to call free via the internet) and then finally, it was off to go to bed. We decided that tomorrow we would take it easy and lounge around. So, for now, it’s good night and until the next entry!

Monks, Horses, and Shopping—Oh My! (Shangri-La, Day 2)

June 6: It is our last morning and afternoon In Shangri-La, and we did two activities today: visit a Tibetan monastery and ride horses!

The morning started off with food at the cafe next to our hostel. Breakfast consisted of yogurt, granola cereal and fruit (I think the meal is described as musuli). Something a bit less exotic, but packed with enough carbs and vitamins to get our day started.

Our Monastery Experience

The first part of our day was a visit to a Tibetan monastery, which was adorned in gold and deep red roofs. You can see the temple as you drive towards it. A part of the monastery had been destroyed during the Cultural Revolution, so parts of the building looked new because it had been restored. I didn’t pull out my travel journal as much as I wanted to during this visit because I was too caught up in the activities we saw, but I scribbled notes down on my entrance ticket anyway.

Once you enter the monastery site, you must climb a long set of stairs to reach the temple. Here you see a mix of tourists and locals finding their way up.

I noticed two American girls standing at the top of the stairs taking photos. A local old Chinese man, who had been approaching people for money, approached them with a cup, asking for some money. One of the girls asked the man in english (slowly and pronouncing each syllable): “Is thissssss… a donationnnn, are you going to blessssss me?” The man just shook the cup feverishly. The girl responded, “ok—a—y, this is for my blessinggggg.” She gave him a couple of coins in the cup and then he suddenly turned around and walked away. She stood there dumbfounded, scratching her blonde locks, and figuring out if she was really blessed or if she had just given money to some poor guy.

Moving on…. at the top of the stairs, you enter the Monetary clockwise through the side rooms. There, you can buy bracelets that have been blessed. We spoke with some monks and I even bought a small necklace with several colorful beads laced on a black string. At the end of the string was a small silver moon shape with six engraved symbols that represented Buddhist principles.

It was time to visit the temple. “Entering the temple must be done through the side” a local woman told tourists. Only Buddha can enter through the front. Hence the front entrance was draped in red cloth, with tourists standing behind it since they were not allowed to cross into the temple from that direction. No photos or videos were allowed and so instead, we peered in from behind the red cloth. In the Temple was rows and rows of sitting monks, young and old, with red clothing wrapped around their tanned skin. There must have been more than 200 monks sitting in this dim room, with one half of the room sitting to face the other half.

Suddenly, the drum beats started.

Two rows of monks picked up their instruments and started to play to the rhythm of a single loud drumbeat, which would be hit once every couple of seconds. The slow, but progressively loud sounds would repeat. Local and visiting Buddhists would walk from right-to-left, pausing at certain aisles with hands in prayer. They raised these clasped hands to their head, mouth and then heart—some bowing down to the ground. We entered the temple from the side and sat among the locals, observing in the dim, full room of monks and drumbeats. It was mezmorzing. It is easy to walk with the local crowd, which stopped at certain aisles to bow to the ground—and before you know it, you can accidentally find yourself getting caught up with them. You may also bump into an elderly and most-respected Monk walking around the room, especially the one with silver-lined hair and sculpted arms.

I was wearing black pants that day and as I stood up from observing the procession, my knees were covered in red dust, which I am sure will be seen in my pictures. But, my dusty red knees became a personal reminder of my trip to the Monastery, from the red lining of the roofs to the red robes of the monks.

Speaking of monks…..

The girls and I soon exited the moving scene that was taking place in the temple and we sought to explore more of the monastery property. We spotted a sign for one of the nearby rooms that said, “No video, no photos, no women allowed in this room”. Um, yeah. We were planning to skip that room anyway.

We found another part of the monastery that housed a large Buddha. We also saw monks carrying baskets, helping with building construction, talking with other fellow monks. We even saw monks with Air Jordan’s and a cell phone running away from us and laughing. The monks were all fairly young boys---all sent here by their parents. But, as I soon found out, at a certain age they can make a decision to stay with the monastery or leave it to raise a family.

All four of us climbed a set of small stairs leading into a small open space terrace. We saw four young monks--probably from 15-24 years of age taking photographs with some visiting Japanese tourists. Since all of us brought cameras, we thought it would be a perfect way to capture our trip here by taking a photograph with the monks. Nancy, in Chinese, asked them if we could get a photo with them.

After talking to each other, they slowly agreed, and we took some snap shots on one of our cameras since we decided it would be best to just post the pictures online or send it to each other. We showed the monks how the photo turned out on the LCD screen and they smiled and laughed, moreso at how they looked, rather than how we looked. Soon, they were asking us to print out the photo and send it to them at the monastery. Pulling out our trusty entrance ticket, we pointed to the address (which was in Chinese), but the boys could not read it so they just pointed to the picture and asked us to send it anyways. They continued smiling and even taunting each other. In the end, I realized that these young monks are like any other boy their age: they want to have fun enjoying life, laughing and playing around.

And, as soon as more tourists saw us and realized they could possibly take pictures with the monks, a few of the monks again ran away inside the room, acting shy and laughing.

I guess a life of celibacy can turn celebrity when four traveling girls ask to be in a picture with you.

Horses that understand Tibetan commands

Soon, it was off to horseback riding—which I last did when I was 10 or 11 with the girlscouts. Back then, I had rode an old gray mare. Okay folks, we’re talking about an old horse that probably had cataracts and pranced with an arthritic limp, riding in small circles, at arms length from a trainer. How much more safe can you get?

But I tossed my nervousness aside and got on a horse. The groups were put in two, so Nancy and Reyna’s horses and trainer were clear on their way towards the far grassy knoll ahead. The large plain was full of horses munching on grass, probably on their off-shift hours. The sky was an enternal blue, and in the background, you can see the mountains. Arlene and I were assigned a trainer, and I hopped on my horse. It was a beautiful animal, and the hide and mane was thick, probably to keep warm during cold nights. The legs were also a bit shorter. I got on the saddle and the horse started to prance around, nudging other horses. In the next few minutes, the trainer was leading Arlene and I, on our horses, towards Nancy and Reyna--- and towards the large grassy knoll. He sang a tune the whole time and when Arlene would take a photo, saying “1…2…..3” in English, he would stop his tunes to practice saying his english numbers as well.

Our trainer would also mouth off words in his dialect and the horses would respond by either picking up its pace, slowing down, or stopping. It was pretty neat.

During our easy ride, I also had some “what-if” thoughts: “What if my horse is schizophrenic or gets pissed off and started to run away from the trainer? What if another grazing horse decided to pick a fight with my horse? What would happen if it suddenly wanted to practice jumping?”

Oh, those fleeting thoughts.

We got to the knoll where we stopped the horses. The temporary stop gave us a chance to take photos. As soon as the trainer let go of the reigns, Arlene’s brown-orange horse very gently walked towards my horse (whom I quickly named Shangri-La--yes how original). At first I thought, if I get bit by a horse, that’s it! I didn’t get my rabies shot, and I’d probably be foaming at the mouth in a couple of hours…. But then, ever so gently, the horse nudged my knee in affection (or seeking affection ) just like a cat caresses a leg and purrs. Now in addition to the red dust on my knee, I had an official affectionate horse nudge. (Your cue, readers: awwwwwww…)

The last part to this trip was a chance to hold a baby lamb—we’re talking about the cutest lamb in the world. So white, so small, so pure and quiet—it was an extra 5 Y I think. Another way to make(or as tourists, spend) some money, but still, you can be photographed with a cute little lamb and perhaps make the whole Friendster/My Space community scream “awwwww” when they see it posted.

But not me. I just wanted to look from afar this one time (any other time I would have). Again, I had visions of the lamb suddenly become full of rage, its red eyes blistering out from its tiny sockets, and suddenly deciding that it had enough of being used as a photo prop when it could be grazing with normal lambs (ah, those child stars). Then it would go postal on me—And then what? I’d be foaming at the mouth again in a couple of hours and kick myself for not getting those rabies shots. In the end, it probably wouldn’t have done that anyways, it was too cute!!!! But oh well, another time. C’est la vie.

Shopping and a Return to Lijiang

Here are the last couple of liners non-shocker for the evening—we drove back to Lijiang, napping most of the way. Good tip: Again, it helps to hire a driver because they know all the spots to visit. Anyways, we ended up back in Lijiang, with memories of Shangri-La dancing in our heads. But, like every (or every other day), we woke up to eat and then shop, shop, shop. That’s all folks.

Tomorrow: Our attempt to go on a four-hour bike ride in the countryside of Lijiang to visit temples. It should be a fun read. Bear with me folks, I’m still posting, since I have written records all the way until 7/13 and it only gets more fun and interesting. So keep checking daily!

The Gorge-ous nature of Shangri-La and Stopping Short of Tibet.

Note: A long entry because of how productive our traveling was today and I have included more thoughts about traveling. Anyways, I hope you are on your watercooler break! Don’t worry, I titled sections for you, as a break for your curious eyes.

The Road to Shangri-La

6/5/06: This morning, I woke up to U-2 on MTV’s Asia: “…I still haven’t found….what I’m looking for…” How apropos. Will he every find what he’s looking for? Will we? Will I? Ah, life.

After a quick breakfast, it was onward to Shagri-La (Zhongdian). During the drive, our hired driver popped in some Naxi music into the cassette player. Suddenly, my view of the blue skies and Naxi farmland transcended post-card perfect. It became the Naxi version of Brave heart cinematography. I thought of future movie producers, scooping the earth for perfect scenes to shoot. Southwest China is perfect for that. As the milky tunes of the Naxi flute and glottal voices absorbed us, we sat in silence (or perhaps in reflection) as we looked at the passing landscapes: people selling fruit by the roadsides, men bundling straw, and women eating lunch. We even stopped to take photos of the Yangtze River by the hillside. It seems to be a popular spot since there were more vendors who set up shop there, with their jade ware and old Chinese coins. I also saw some “little red” Mao books, but they weren’t in the best of shape, so I decided not to get one at this particular time.

The Tiger Leaping Gorge

We crossed a bridge and soon found ourselves in Shangri-La. The rainy season in southwest China includes June and the summer months. Therefore, much to our reluctance, our driver took us to a part of the gorge that was easy. So, we hiked the “easy” park of the Tiger Leaping Gorge. Everything was paved for us, and the walk was probably 2 hours, but it included some uphill stairs. We really didn’t face any danger, except the part when some falling rocks stopped two of us in our tracks before a Chinese “park ranger” urged us to pick up and scuttle along faster to the other side of the rock pile. But the view was still photographic---quiet mountains (with the exception of a few falling rocks) against the forceful Yangtze River. We passed by a waterfall that produced crystal blue water, and which emptied out to the brown watery mix and fast current of the Yangtze River below. The altitude at this level was higher, but it did not affect me directly, although it affected some members of our group. But, I was amazed when, at the halfway point of our walk, I heard some clapping behind us: a very, very old fragile Chinese woman and man had walked and even climbed steps to get to our point and their old-aged group congratulated them for being able to make it this far. I instantly thought: grandma and grandpa can’t beat us back!! Especially on the easy trail!

But after that selfish thought came in and out of my head, I realized that the walk produced some good bonding time between the traveling group of 4. The only person I knew really well in the group was Arlene, but I got to talk to Reyna and Nancy and find out more about them. I really think that such an experience is an important part of traveling with other people and perhaps the most difficult because finding the time to get to know them can be hard when your traveling schedule is hectic. But doing so is both beneficial and positive: I believe that it produces the transparency and trust that traveling requires in order getting the best of it. And you earn some friendships in the end!

After our little hike/walk, our group got back into the car and drove to an “agricultural hostel” which is a type of place to eat and it produces meals from homegrown vegetables and fruits. In this agricultural hostel, we went to the back room to choose the raw ingredients that they cooked it for us. We ate fermented tofu, sliced garlic potatoes, and another green leafy dish. And the view of the river? Amazing everywhere.

On the drive back into town that evening in Shangri-La, I thought about the size of China and the amount of military might it needed to unite all the people and all the land---each Chinese dynasty had to either quell secession or be conquered. I also wondered about the next 100 years or so; would all this untouched land be industrialized, will it preserved, or worse, will it become a tourist haven where the sole industry will cater to foreigners? I think a few of us on this trip fear the latter, and I personally hope that the entry of travelers and foreigners into this place produces a cultural and eco-friendly “exchange” between people, rather than a line of shops that sell the same jade necklaces, paper lanterns, or wooden fans the next vendor is also selling.

I also thought about the road we were traveling on; if we took it all the way west, we would have entered Tibet.

But, it was the Shangri-La stop on this trip.

“Because it makes him Happy”

So on to one of my personal favorites so far in the trip: Naxi dancing in the main town square. With the lively traditional Tibetan influenced music filling the outside cool air, as the sun began to set, members of the town gathered that evening to dance. We saw the main group of dancers holding hands in a circle, and at least 2-3 more groups of people joining the circle and forming rings around it. Locals and tourists alike were dancing to the music. But this dancing circle was not strictly left to the females. The men, both businessman, vendors, security guards, military men, fathers, brothers, boyfriends, and sons were dancing in the circle. If they were unable to keep up, they stood outside the circle, practicing, or tapping their foot. The dancing was both feminine and masculine. Both young and old. Women were dressed in traditional garb and tourists also joined the circle dancing. Myself included. In fact I jumped in and danced until I made it around the entire circle. I know for a fact, my traveling buds took pictures of me—probably funny ones as I tried to become an expert. But I was so absorbed in following the footsteps carefully and skipping to the beats of the fast and slow songs, I think I lost myself in my own footwork. Could I say I saw a 1,000 Naxi faces and rocked them all? (For all you Bon Jovi fans). Perhaps.

To me, I began to see their dance as an expression and celebration of a life and culture and so, all the soul and the passion that encapsulates life is displayed in such an artform. But technicalities and artform aside, dancing was a way to form community and for community to form their individuality---and I absorbed it all.

After I went around the circle or two, I hopped out and watched from outside the circles. We met a Tibetan teacher that taught middle school English language. She spoke with Nancy, and after that I briefly spoke with her. She asked me what my ethnicity was. At first, I said “Filipino” and then she asked me if I was studying English because my tone was really good. Then I said, “Actually, I am American” and she looked a bit puzzled, but I explained that my parents were born in the Philippines and that I was born in the “States” and that I am actually Filipino-American. She smiled. She told me that I looked Chinese. Identity can be very confusing, but it is what we choose it to be.

Then I asked her about her son, who was probably less than 2 years old. He was giggling in his father’s arms, pointing at the dancers. She told me that she brings him to the public square to watch the dancing because “it makes him happy here.” I nodded in agreement, as she turned to smile and hold her bubbly toddler.

When our group reunited after the dancing, the Tibetan teacher and her husband suggested a traditional Naxi restaurant—something all of us were looking forward to during our trip. She and her husband and baby drove us and dropped us off at the restaurant and upon arrival, we said our goodbyes and thank yous to our temporary guide. When we entered the restaurant, we saw some tourists carrying some Oxygen tanks—something normal for those who do not live here and cannot stand the attitude change. I think you can get a tank for 25 Y.

What is Naxi food you ask? Well that evening, we had some butter tea (no kidding, it tastes like buttery milk) and had Naxi Cheese with some Naxi bread (called ba ba). The closest similarity I can probably describe it is, for all you Filipinos out there, enseymada—which is a type of bread pastry coated with sugar and cheese. It is delicious as it is filling. I think the whole evening made us happy and satisfied.

It’s like giving stickers to a baby

But the evening wasn’t done yet, because we had to walk back to our hostel. There were traces of daylight and it was almost 9 PM, but it had been a long day of driving around, walking, dancing, and eating.

A quick side story that has nothing to do with the subtitle: our group did some shopping, where Arlene (I have to include this funny story if you’re reading girl) tried to ask a price for a jade Buddha necklace. Now, earlier in the week, she bought one at another shop, but she wanted to know how much this particular shop would have sold it to her. Now, I’m not sure if she was practicing her bargaining technique, but even with Nancy walking in on the whole situation, there was some translation snafu and Arlene ended up “accidentally” buying the Buddha necklace even though she already had one. “Girl, what face did you give when you asked for the price?” I asked. Arlene gave me a sad puppy-dog face. “That isn’t the oh-my-gosh-I’m-offended-it’s-so-high-I’m-gonna-turn-around-and-leave” face. She insisted it was. I said, “we’ll have to work on it.” We all laughed as she added to her collection, a second Buddha jade necklace that left her wondering who she will give it to during Christmas. Done reading? Now, go back again and reread, this time replacing every “Buddha necklace” word you find with “Pashmina shawl”, and you’ll now know why Arlene has two shawls.

Now, on to the last story of the evening. As we crossed the street to head back to the hostile after eating, we found a small toddler, cheeks a bit dirty, but flush pink, wearing bundled clothing (since it gets cold in Shangri-La in the evenings), with an even more cuter puffy hat. She was clinging on to an iron-gated driveway, which was below one restaurant and also next to some other restaurants. She seemed distressed as she held on to the bars, peering inside to the blackness behind the gate. She appeared to be calling out to her mother.

All of us slowed down to admire the cute baby, but then we stopped in our tracks as we realized that the baby was there alone. No mother, no one supervising her, no sibling, no pet dog. Minutes went by and the distressed toddler would make a few paces back and forth before going back to cling the gate, asking for her mother. We soon confirmed this because local bystanders would ask us what we were doing staring at the baby and Nancy would ask in Chinese about the mom. Some bystanders would say they didn’t know, others would say “The mom is working.”

I would say that 15 minutes passed by with this lone baby, and the four of us standing around trying to comfort her as she would start to slowly cry for her mom. Suddenly, I reached into my purse and found some stickers that I had brought along the trip with me. I realized I had brought these stickers in case I met some kids or to give as gifts during my trip to the Philippines. I pulled out a sheet of stickers that had trees and flowers on it and handed it to Nancy.

Nancy peeled one of the stickers and put it on the hand of the baby, and the baby instantly stopped stressing and became curious. She reached out and Nancy handed the baby the sheet of stickers. The baby started to mimic Nancy and put the sticker on her hand and then back onto the sheet. She would then peel another one and put it on her hand again. She then put the sheet in her small pocket. She smiled and came closer to us. Victory! The baby was preoccupied with the stickers and no longer crying.

Suddenly, an image of the woman from behind the gate emerged, carrying a laundry bucket….was it her mother? The woman exited the gate, but the baby didn’t respond. The woman turned to us and told us, “Her mother is behind you, working under that tent, selling food” We all turn a full 180 degrees to the one place we didn’t see; behind us was a yellow tent with the mother indeed was busy selling food. As if on cue, the baby also looked towards the direction we were staring and instinctively walked towards the woman in the tent.

We just stood there, relieved but we also laughed at the whole situation.

(Another) Moral of the story: It won’t ruin your diet or your teeth. In fact, it may buy you enough time to realize the truth of any given situation. Hence, stickers are better than candy.

And so ends another long, but first day in Shangri-La. Tomorrow, day two: our morning adventure and our return to Lijiang. I promise, more stories!

I Left My Heart In…..Lijiang (sung to the tune of “I left my heart in San Francisco”)

Why did I leave my heart there? Well, upon flying from Chengdu to Lijiang (where our lively group of 4 traveling ladies was now complete), I stepped out from the small Lijiang airport. Suddenly, everything changed and soon, I realized that one could start to fall in love with the beauty of southwest China…

This is old town Lijiang—which travel books will tell you is a must-see and a must-stay in Yunnan. Old Town is pedestrian only so check your vehicle and bikes in new town (where ironically, many of the locals go). It is an escape from the city life; however, it definitely caters to tourists as the town is lined with shops and hostels.

The quaint town of old-town Lijiang boasts brightly lit red and pink bloated lanterns, narrow brick and stone quarters lined with shops/restaurants/bars, and buildings with traditional Chinese roofs---all surreally lit at night. In a slightly similar way, the town reminds me of the gothic quarter feeling of Barcelona, Spain. You can turn one corner and bump into the nightlife, then turn another corner and discover serenity---a temporary get-away from the bar and shopping scenes. The air is clearer and crisper here in southwestern China and everywhere you see the glowing bronze skin of the Naxi people, a minority population in China. Many, especially the elderly women, wear bright blue and white skirts and don traditional headwraps. Their flushed cheeks smile at you while you walk by, and you can even hear men humming tunes or singing in the streets.

We found a hostel to stay, which was recommended to us by a taxi driver we hired to take us around for the next couple of days. I have to include our trip’s bonus. Nancy spoke mandarin so we were lucky to have her do many translations and interpretations for us—although we did practice speaking every now and then, especially when we hit up the shopping! That late evening, we walked around the town, and in the distance, we heard bar songs being sung, challenging groups from the opposite bar to sing back.

As for our travel plans: the plan was to sleep one night here, and then in the morning embark for Shangri-La (also known as Zhongdian), which is the closest one can get to Tibet. There we would try to trek the Tiger Leaping Gorge. We would stay one night in Shangri-La and then head back to Lijiang sometime after that.

Wow, I just realized that it’s been 4 cities in 4 days for me. Until next time!

This is the “I could have held a Panda for 1200 Yuen” Post

June 4: Arlene, Reyna and I signed up for the Panda Breeding Center Half Day Tour at our hostel for a morning trip to see the Pandas. We had to leave early that morning, and we got into a mini-van with some middle-aged Australian couples, which made us wonder whether at that age we’d be hostelling it around.

It was about 8 AM in the morning, and our shuttle van dropped all of us off a very empty, desolate parking lot (remember this detail, since I will come back to it) at the Chengdu Research Base of Giant Panda Breeding Center. Of course, there were a few other tour groups there, all busting out their cameras for the anticipated cuteness that would consume us all. But it wasn’t enough to feel like you were in an amusement park; in fact it almost seemed as if we had the whole park to ourselves…just….like….Jurassic Park…hmmmm….

Anyway, we entered the park this early morning; all seemed quiet. As we walked towards the panda grounds, we bumped into a small sign at the front of our first site. The sign said, “I’m the national treasure and I hate noise.” Then we saw pandas, two big ones! One was sitting up for the cameras—it was so close that you can jump in to join their fun! The other one was eating some bamboo. In a few second, instant snap shots. The pandas appeared to be absorbing it all. I was amazed at how close they really were. Their fur was very clean and they seemed aware of the paparazzi around them. They seemed to say to me: “Washington D.C. butterstick ain’t got nothing on me!”

It is very easy to spend one or two rolls, or more than 50-100 camera shots on these guys. Pandas were hanging in the trees sleeping, some of them were play fighting, rolling around, eating right in front of you, deciding to sleep right in front of you, etc.---they were not shy at all and did not retreat into the greenery behind them. I took some cute ones, so ask me later!

We also saw some red pandas, which are distant cousins from the raccoon actually. More snap shots. Then we passed by the baby panda site, where a blonde boy’s mother paid 1200 Yuen for a picture with the panda. She kept ranting on about how her possibly 9-year old son’s whole life was dedicated to the study of these animals. Of course, with payment, the boy got a few minutes with the panda (and we got a few minutes observing this), and the whole time, as the boy was putting his arm around the panda (with protective gear on), whenever the panda’s mouth got close to the boy’s head, the trainers would bring a bamboo stick towards the baby’s panda mouth to distract him with food from what otherwise might be a messy “playfight” between the energetic panda baby and the unsuspecting human child.

Finally, after we saw a Panda video (which was played to some Enya music) and toured a panda museum, it was time to complete our half-day at the Chengdu panda center. As we left the center, we entered to what supposedly was an empty lot when we first arrived, but suddenly----more than a dozen “panda” vendors had set up shop right outside the center while we were happily distracted with taking photos of the pandas. Very strategic too, I may add, since all of the shops were set up to face exiting tourists. You couldn’t escape the panda paraphernalia!

That evening, we would eventually meet up with Nancy at the airport to finally complete our travel group of 4 as we head to Lijiang, in the Yunnan province. But I must leave this post with a couple of panda facts from the museum:

* 1869- A French Priest first discovers the Giant Panda in Sichuan, China.
* Theodore Roosevelt once hunted and killed a panda (Oh, the Republican party. I won't say more than that, although I could. Btw thanks to that special someone who corrected this part of my post)
* 1972 – China presents a pair of pandas to President Nixon: XingXing and LingLing.
* Pandas have a false thumb.
* The Chinese have had over 3,000 years of experience with pandas. The US: 100 years.
* Pandas do fall in love. (Readers: awwwwww.. see, I had to end it with something cute!)

High Rolling, but Laid Back: Chengdu

::::There’s so much to write, but be forewarned now, if you read it all, you may be amused:::

June 3: The particular hotel where we stayed included a bus service (at extra charge) that drove 4 hours into the Sheraton in Chengdu (where our other traveling friend, Nancy, was staying), so we took that route into the city in the morning in order to meet up with her in the afternoon. Once we would meet up with her, our travel group would be complete. So we hopped on the bus, which had the feel of a nice charter bus, and I opened up my phrase book to study Chinese numbers.

As I peered outside my window, I realized that leaving behind the cities of Beijing and Chongqing for Chengdu was going to be as soothing as it was welcomed. The bus route we took blessed us with views of large farming fields and tall bushy hills, which appeared even greener next to the pale gray sky (it had rained earlier that morning). We passed by a large billboard with a large panda on it and, as I would soon figure out, Chengdu is the houses China’s national treasurers: the Giant Pandas. We also passed by houses staggered on hillsides, with roofs reminiscent of the old China. I spotted many cute animals, including piglets eating by the roadside and a family of ducks peering in and out of tall lush grasses as they made their way to a pond. Life appeared a bit quieter, but scattered farmers, fishermen, and some roadside construction still added some busy life into the simplicity of the passing scenes. I could smell some of the fresh black tar from the roadside construction, and it reminded me of my childhood days in California when the city would repave our col-de-sac block every now and then---my sisters and I had to reluctantly wait until it dried before we could ride our bikes to the park.

I think it was during this route when I started to feel a sense of “getting lost” in another country. Back in the states, life got busy and many times, one can feel lost in our own goals, our chosen paths, etc. Ironically, it is almost comforting to suddenly “lose myself” in getting lost or feeling displaced (which is what traveling does) in China. I wanted to lose myself and my own perceptions in my new surroundings. To be away from our life back in the states (for at least for a while) and to exchange experiences for something new to challenge that life—that is what traveling began to mean to me.

Back on the bus, we stopped for a break. I have to make one mention of food, because it is so important! When our bus stopped once for a break, I was semi-hungry at that point, so I grabbed a bowl of spicy silver noodles for 5Y (about 40 cents in US dollars). Then, with half a cigarette in one hand, our driver beckoned us to return on the bus. It was onward to Chengdu, but not without some heavy traffic.

Peering out into the window, I realized that as we headed into more city life, the traffic halted for about 5 minutes. At that point, some Chinese got out of their fruit trucks and started to walk up and down in the lanes towards other cars. With some fruit in their hand, I realized that they were trying to take advantage of their gridlocked situation and make a couple of kwai or two in the meantime! (Kwai is the colloquial word for Yuen). Hey, it was more fun watching them try to sell their goods than watch the current bus movie which was called “Kung Fu Kids”.

Finally, after about a couple of hours, we were in Chengdu—but at the Sheraton, we couldn’t reach our friend because she was out for that afternoon, so we found a hostel in the city in the meantime. Remember my little rant about getting lost? Well, for a while as we tried to find this hostel, we went around in circles. Since it was a new hostel (and not the one listed in the travel guides), it was a bit of a challenge asking people where to go. At one point, we came across two elderly Chinese people, who wore bright orange tops (the kind that point you out as crosswalk guards for people) and we pointed to an address. The older woman motioned this really old frail man (also in orange) towards the street head. During their whole conversation, we stood a bit bewildered, so we just turned around and walked in the direction we thought the hostel may be. As we kept walking, so did the old man, slowly but surely, with his oversized bright orange top draping his dark brown clothes. At first, we thought he may be “watching us” or that the woman told him to “follow the suspicious foreigners”. We tried evading the old man, by walking through buildings, off the sidewalk, in between motorbikes---but to no avail. The old man would appear again, slowly but again surely, still walking parallel to us, although a bit distant. When we stopped, he stopped slightly ahead of us. When we walked, he would continue walking. Finally, at an intersection, we stopped to take a breather from our heavy backpacks. He then extended his hand and pointed out with his bony hand across the street-----there was our hostel.

Moral of the story: Never try to evade an elderly Chinese man who may be just trying to give you directions. You will not lose him.

I must go on about Chengdu, because if you ever visit, or find a fellow backpacker and suddenly find yourself enamored with that person, it has the perfect “date” place; sure we can talk about Ho-Hai Hutong near Beijing. But for some non-clubby, family friendly, lets-go-catch-some-tadpoles-kinda-fun, I would suggest the “People’s Park” in Chengdu. We walked there, which was about 15 minutes away from our hostel; during our walk we passed by some of the backstreet life, including a Chinese Muslim mosque. Also, I noticed a lot of Chinese playing cards, mah jong, or playing games involving dice. It was everwhere.

Remnin “People’s” Park is great. I can’t fully compare it to Central Park in New York, but a lot of Chinese families gravitate to this large park. It’s free, and there is a lot to do. So date suggestion number 1, stop by the Gold Fish Tea House in the afternoon: grab yourself some tea and people watch. There are a few musicians playing traditional Chinese instruments. They do not ask for money--they simply play for the love of music. Or date suggestion number 2, granted your date isn’t hydrophobic---take a soothing boat ride and witness the laughter and love of Chinese families around you. Or date suggestion number 3: Walk around and get lost in the park (or in whomever’s eyes) and just enjoy the nature, the music, and the people of Chengdu as they play cards or roll dice. Trust me, the park was one of the highlights of my trip.

After the nice walk through the park, we stopped to take photos by Mao’s statute, which ironically, is facing with his hand toward some burgeoning capitalist construction ahead: new buildings, shopping areas, possible financial offices, and resident space. One of the signs describing a new residential community had a translation in English: “Live here. More bushy.”

Finally, at the end of a long afternoon, we decided to take a rickshaw bike back for 15Y in total for the three of us. We negotiated with the driver (as you should always do). Now, one of my friends made a good point about the “vehicle” we were in. First, there was more than 300 pounds of us (three lean girls). Second, to get to our hostel, we had a couple of up hill slants. For about 15 minutes, this guy biked through traffic, pedaled up some slanted roads, and even made sudden breaks to avoid any collision with people. I started to feel tired for him. Now the third point (always make a third point if you previously have two) we looked at the bike he had. The bike had no gears. No gears!!!!!! Props to our driver for hauling our butts back. Move over L’Armstrong.

Okay, I know this post is long. The day is almost done, I promise. That evening, we booked tickets, via our awesome hostel for a culture night at the Sichuan Opera. After a fast but delicious meal hotpot meal ( From the phrasebook: mai dun! –“Check!”) it was off to see Chinese singing, acrobatic food skill (a young girl on her back throwing and balancing tables and pots and chairs with her feet) and changing faces. To this day, we keep wondering how they change those faces! In any event, it was good to treat ourselves to a show after a full day of traveling and walking around.

So, with the flickering white light above my bed, I finish writing Day 1 in Chengdu. Tomorrow, everyone’s favorite animal (or it should be at least on their top 10 list): the giant panda. Forgive me now if I get cute in the next post.

Note: Thanks to friends who helped me edit this post.

Those Hot Summer Chongqing Nights

June 2: A bit south west (2 hour flight) is Chongqing and not only was my flight delayed, it was really turbulent on the way there. The flight captain stated that the delay was due to a storm, but within 20 minutes we took to the air anyway. Upon arrival in Chongqing, I shopped around for a decent cab, and had to bargain with a few of them before finally deciding to just get into the safest one (since some of them appeared shady). I finally got to Arlene’s hotel around 10:00 PM. Made it!

I noticed that Chongqing city had more high rises and lights, and although it was raining a bit, it was a relief to finally meet some of the people I would be traveling with.

My good friend Arlene was there for a program sponsored by her graduate school. She is the one that invited me to China to travel. The last time I really traveled with her was when I met up with her in Boston with my other friend April. We walked the freedom trail and saw the Boston Pops during Independence Day. We really made the most of the trip and I realized that we could be great traveling buds.

I also met Jenny and Reyna, her classmates and roommates during this program. To celebrate the last day of the program, the group was celebrating a night out on the town. The next thing I knew, we were off to hit the party life of Chongqing! Of course, the only two pairs of shoes I brought with me where my TEVAS and my sneakers to save space (and because I keep telling myself that I will buy more shoes in China or in the Philippines) Sorry to disappoint you fashionistas out there.

The evening started off in a bar right around the hotel corner, where Black Eyed Peas music could be heard all night. We moved on to a club that played progressive downbeats and some techno. I guess many of us tried ordering certain drinks that night but ended up with diluted orange juice---not the same as in the states I suppose! But the Chinese can definitely party! For me, it was fun dancing the night away in China, whether on the floor or on the stage near the DJ and in the early wee hours of the morning as we headed back to the hotel, I realized that I had not had one of those nights in a very long time! It was more than fun, it was a sense of release from the tensions I felt planning parts of my summer travels. I also felt eagerness for what lay ahead tomorrow as I join Arlene and Reyna to begin our travels to southern China.

Beijing in 24 Hours: Part II

Dor Shao Chien? Something I’d like to share with readers before I start today’s entry: the best advice given to me by my friend when bargaining a price in China: look shock, and then walk away. Then, watch the price go down for the item in question. This works pretty much every time. And because a vendor will probably be selling the same item the next vendor is also selling, purchasing an item becomes a “name your price” game.

Anyways, on to the last half of my 24-hour stay in China. This morning I had a Beijing breakfast with Cynthia in a hole-in-the-wall eatery. Literally, the place was located outside between two brick buildings and I can probably describe it as an alleyway, but it really wasn’t. There were a couple of outdoor tables and chairs and behind me some clothes were hanging dry. The typical breakfast for about 50 cents was a very filling porridge with some pickled vegetables as side dishes. We also had some steamed dumplings.

It was then off to the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square for the morning. We hopped on the Beijing subway. I noticed that the subway had three main lines, and two of those lines started and ended in the same location, meaning it went in a circle. I guess if you are unsure or missed your stop, you can stay on that line and wait until your stop passes again.

Tiananmen Square was busy as usual, and we took a couple of pictures, especially near a sign that was counting down the time until the Olympics. I also got a chance to fall in line to see Mao’s body. My advice: Do not bring any purses or cameras with you (or have a friend hold on to it). You will not be allowed in with these items and you will be forced to check it in. In line, many Chinese were rushing to buying flowers to lay at the feet of a large while statue of Mao before they entered another room with his body, which was looking really, really well preserved to me. I read an article a couple of months ago in the LA Times (or perhaps NY Times) which debated whether China will leave the body there on display during the Olympics. Maybe a wax substitute?

The city appeared sleepy today, with many of the rickshaw drivers taking naps. I can only imagine how much business will book when the Olympics come to town. My freind and I then hopped on those rickshaw motorbikes and paid for a one-hour tour of the backstreets of Hutong. To me, it was an exciting ride as the driver skirted past pedestrians, and wizzed through narrow alleys. It was great to catch a breeze during this somewhat humid and gray day. During the ride, I was able to see some tiny residential areas located behind all the touristy ones, with people in doing various actions: playing mahjong, making bricks, taking more naps, and selling fruits. Kids were playing with their peers. Will these areas still be here, or will it be relocated because of the Games in 2008?

That afternoon, I had to rush back to the airport to catch my flight to Chongqing, but again, not without a full meal as both Cynthia and I watched two Chinese girls, who sat across from us, scarf down 12 dumplings each. I said my goodbyes, very grateful and feeling spoiled by a good friend who helped show me around town. My next mission was to find Arlene somewhere in Chongqing! With her hotel written down in Chinese, could I make my way to her from the Chongquing airport? Stay tuned….

Beijing in 24 Hours: Part I

Note: Bear with me, the first entry of the first day I arrive is somewhat long, which is to be expected. Also, please note, during the entire time I was in China, I couldn’t access my blog since it appeared to be a restricted site in the country. So, I had to copy/paste my writings from my travel journal and post it at a later date.

Now, on to my entry.

11 hours and two airplane movies later (“Chronicles of Narnia” and “The Interpreter” starring Nicole Kidman, if you need to know), I arrived in the airport of the political and cultural capital of China with one mission: Meet my friend Cynthia (who I will be staying with that evening) at the Starbucks right across from the International arrivals gate. This was a simple instruction written to me via email several days ago. The Beijing airport was very busy with many tour guides and tour groups. The minute I arrived at the airport, I popped open my mandarin phrase book to practice some phrases and immediately bumped into several Chinese students who became fascinated with my phrase book. I had wrapped the phrase book in a piece of paper that had my flight information and the word “California”. They started to pronounce the word “California” and giggled. After awkwardly pulling myself away from that conversation to look for my friend, I found a Canadian guy at the Starbucks and borrowed his cell phone to check-in with Cynthia. Once I met up with her, my 24-hour adventure began.

Just some quick information on my gracious host. Cynthia and I went to college together. She is now pursuing some advanced studies in Mandarin at a university in Beijing. She chose to study there because it is the best school to study the language (Beijing style accent) if she chooses to work in China. She definitely inspired me to consider studying and working abroad in the future.

While we drove back to her apartment from the airport, I noticed how overcast the Beijing sky appeared to be. We then talked about the pollution in the city and the pollution levels in China in general as it rapidly industrializes. Cynthia lives, I believe, just north of the city. She mentioned that the Chinese are very systematic in their city planning, and that sections of Beijing is organized by “rings”. With Beijing hosting the Olympics in 2008, I learned that the government is encouraging citizens to learn a few English phrases.

After receiving a quick crash course on currency conversion, it was off to go get some food-----everyone’s favorite topic at some point while traveling. My friend lives in an area that appears to be a mini-koreatown. It is bustling with bikes, motorcycles, taxis and other cars. Even though the driving looks chaotic, it appears that the Chinese are not reckless drivers---all they want to do is get ahead of another in that lane, and if they can do it, they will. But they do slow down if they see another car that may cause a collision, and beep out of courtesy (even though the beeping can be prolonged). I also think it helps that they aren’t distracted with changing their CD player, reaching for an I-pod, eating in a car, putting on lipstick, or eating while driving….you know, some of our daily distractions (just kidding).

But back to the food! For your information, Cynthia and I at a restaurant and I had a delicious Peking duck and ginger sprouts/vegetables.

After a full meal, we met a couple of her classmates. In total, the room included 2 Peruvians, 2 Frenchmen, and 2 Americans. When the use of English to talk posed some difficulties in communication among all of us, Mandarin became the universal choice of language (with Cynthia translating for me of course). We all took a few photos and I learned the word way shao, meaning “to smile”.

By the way, on the way to Cynthia’s friend’s apartments, we crossed over a public concrete park where Chinese music was playing for everyone to hear. To my delight, Chinese couples were doing the “1-2-3 ball change” or “1-2-3-cha-cha-cha”. In other words, they were ballroom dancing! It was an endearing sight to see in contrast to my usual thought of people just going home after a long day of work. We also usually think of ballroom dancing as an indoor activity. But here, it drew enthusiasts and amateurs alike, even as the night grew late. As we continued on, I also saw a lot of other concrete parks that had swing sets for kids, but also equipment for senior citizens to practice stretching or to use their muscles—a smart way to again to encourage physical activity and use public space in a crowded city.

Ho-Hai Hutong—our hangout choice for the cool evening, since earlier it was a bit humid. Ho-Hai includes a strip of eclectic restaurants, fancy bars and scattered shops that touch a peaceful waterfront. Beijing is truly an international city and this is evident by people watching in Ho-Hai. Tourists, locals, the young and the old fill outdoor rattan seats as they enjoy their meal with friends or smoke a cigarette. We hung out at a bar called “Buffalo” which had live music. As the evening drew to a close, we blended in with the rest of Ho-Hai scene as we talked about our college days, our future careers, and life over some Tsing Tao beer.