Sunday, May 21, 2017

Longji Rice Terraces

Thanks to the help of a friend named Hail, I took a day trip to see the Longji Rice Terraces of Ping'an Village– the most spectacular terraces in China.

I should say that my friend met me at my hostel for breakfast, took me via taxi to the bus station, waited for the bus, spoke to the bus driver about when I was to get off, gave the driver instructions to make sure the driver would transport me onto the second bus... which would take me to the village below. Pretty good friend to have.

Later that week, Hail and I went to a vegetarian buffet inside a Buddhist temple. The food was amazing, so I didn't stop at three plates– he was really impressed by my appetite. Chinese girls don't eat much.

Anyways, I arrived a few hours later to the terrace via my awful bus ride. It is Chinese custom to blare your horn every six seconds when driving. And because the bus was always overtaking another vehicle, I was a little nauseated from all the action. I figured it would be a peaceful stroll down the countryside. I wanted to scream.

But I did arrive and was pretty happy I put up with all the noise and oncoming traffic. The terraces and town built into the hillside were spectacular. Construction of the terraces began in the Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368) and continued until the early Qing Dynasty (1644-1911).



The Dragon's Backbone Rice Terraces are the culmination of both the profound wisdom and strenuous labor of the Zhuang people. I arrived at a very nice time to see the terraces filled with water.



Ping'an rice terraces are built along the winding slope from the riverside up to the mountain top, the highest part being 880m in elevation while the lowest part 380m.



I had lunch in this town where I ate a big plate of fried bamboo shoots and a bowl of rice. The bamboo shoots were fresh and bright green– like asparagus but better. The cook had just pulled them from her garden and they resembled mini/skinny bamboo trees.




After four hours hiking around the fields, getting lost in the town and finding my bus back down the mountain... I barely made it to the last bus to Guilin. I had an Italian man who spoke Chinese tell our bus driver to call the next bus driver to hold the bus. Phew. It worked. From The bus station in Guilin, I took a rickshaw carriage "taxi" (motorcycle with a wagon attached) back to my hostel. It went a whole 10 miles per hour – max– but I would have chosen that turtle taxi over a bus any day.

China the Beautiful

People are amazing. Especially women. 
What some women go through for beauty and style will forever confound me. 

America is home to plastic surgery– both words sounding equally terrible. Voluntarily putting them together and paying large sums of money for them, absurd. Couldn’t they have come up with something better? Permanent beauty solutions? Enhanced imaged specialists? Plastic surgery sounds so gross.

But that’s not what I’m here to whine about. 

For 20 days in China I brought two carry-on bags. I made a serious effort to travel light, something I’ve never been too great at. I brought one pair of jeans, one pair of rain pants, one pair of compression/yoga pants, five t-shirts, two long-sleeve shirts, a rain jacket, a fleece, and a leather jacket (leather jacket was key, though). A few pairs of socks and underwear, but with plans to get anything else I needed in China, for a quarter of the price.


I also made sure not to bring any nice shoes. Even though I love my heeled boots, and to tower even further over the mass of people excited me, I only packed one extra pair of sneakers. I wore my bulky hiking shoes and shoved everything else into my bag. 

I knew my fashion would be lacking for this month, but beauty is pain and I ain’t got time for that.

So I took on the greatest national parks I’ve ever experienced looking like a complete scrub. China went way beyond expectations when building Zhangjiajie National Forest Park and all the accompanying caves, canyons and bridges.

I have a fitness watch that tracks my steps, calories, sleep, heart rate, and any activities like swimming, biking, running, etc. When my dad and I took on a different part of the park each day, we were hitting up to 25,780 steps, around 10 miles or less each day.


This is where I get back to people being amazing. Because as we were spewing sweat, climbing stair after stair after stair, crying out to people to see if they speak English and if we’re close to the end… these little Chinese women would fly past us in heels, skirts and sweaters with their arms raised angling a selfie stick. 

I always wondered if there might have been secret elevators that the sign-makers ‘forgot’ to translate into English. How in the world could these women keep up with us? Most of which I’m sure were not very athletic. But it wasn’t just the fashionable ladies in three inch heels and felt hats, (who I’m sure went home with gnarly blisters), but there where elderly couples marching along too.

Hordes of tour groups came at a steady rate. Most of them catered to older people. Sometimes my dad would tell me to pull over so they could pass us. I would quietly curse them for being able to overtake me on the trail. And these are no little day tours. We spent at least five hours each day forcing ourselves up stairs. (Chinese people really love stairs. This is why I think they are not obese– seeing as they eat friend noodles rather often.)


In America, this wouldn’t happen. I’m absolutely positive. Just last October I hiked six miles of the Grand Canyon and not a single person was able to keep up with me. Now in China, where my stride is even greater than the average, I was being out maneuvered. Forced off the trail by giggling girls and grannies alike. 


Maybe all of the Chinese tourists came from Beijing and Shanghai, so once they tasted fresh air, they could breathe and had a renewed sense of life. But I just don’t find it likely. I should also mention that the Chinese people at the parks were not fit. There were a handful of skinny guys, but otherwise, everyone was average or a little chubby. 

There has even been quite a few Chinese women who looked down on me. Which irked me because they are taking away from my authentic Asia experience. “It isn’t supposed to be like this…” I would grumble– not posing for a photo.


Asians take their fashion very seriously. Men included. But I can’t agree that their fashion is ‘fashionable.’ At least in my time and space. Although as I write this, I’m wearing an XL men’s t-shirt and the same jeans for the past three weeks. Still, I think we look equally bad. But I didn’t waste time on trying to look decent, and I’m pretty comfortable. 

So I have to say, beauty is an avoidable pain. The fashion industry itself is the foundation of this pain. A major player in waste and pollution all over the world. Especially so in Asia, where most of the clothing is made. Clothing that is no longer fashionable/wanted/useful once the season is up. 



I used to only buy trendy, cheap clothes that didn’t mean a whole lot to me. So if I stained or lost a shirt, it didn’t really matter. But now I’d rather pay substantially more for a shirt that was sustainably made, by people that get paid a decent salary, and that will last for years. 

But I’m sure I’m the only one who feels this way. Hundreds of people have passed me in the Shanghai airport looking fresh to death. I’m here in my most pajama-like clothing. Even now they enter the duty-free shops and stock up on big brand novelties.

So in all, people do amaze (and confuse) me. The people who build the most impressive national parks I’ve ever laid eyes on; the people who are willing to limp home in order to snap the perfect selfie on top of a mountain; and the people looking a little ragged from hiking 105 miles during a few weeks’ vacation. So I do suppose I might just be amazing myself. As I sit here and write this, a woman and her child in the seat across from me smile widely. I smile back and give an awkward wave to the child. The mother steadily returns my wave and leaves me candy. 


Plastic socks. My crunchy way of keeping my feet dry from my monsoon soaked shoes. Below is the outfit I was given for a massage. I cannot explain it.




Thursday, May 11, 2017

Chinglish

The opportunity I've been searching for:


Rice.


Accommodation or new dance style? You can't say it without smiling.


"letoh ssensiub gnijiiew" Nobody noticed it was backwards or nobody cared?

Walking: no. Skipping: yes.



Also, come with your own toilet paper.

The French...... am I right?


Confucius once said...

Singing birds and flourishing flowers are natural fire fighters.

"Milky way waterfall. Its torrent dashes down from a very high place."

"The Spring of Bamboo Fairy. Fragrant flowers flourish for the kind tourists; the water is clean for the clear spring."

Seriously tho.

The view was quite beautiful though, can't argue with that. 

Saturday, May 6, 2017

Pan Qiao Xi Takes on China

Pronounced: Pan Chao She
Or, said quickly: Pan Chelsea
So the title means Pan Qiao Xi (Chelsea Pyne) pulls another stunt.


In a way, I'm used to being the minority. Often I've been the only female on the team or American in my group of European friends. And I've always stood out, but never quite like being the lanky, green-eyed girl surround by millions of dark heads.



I was warned before I arrived in China that people would want a photo. I thought, "great, this will be hilarious." And it was, to a point. It happened quite often that I couldn't keep a straight face when my bright, bulbous eyes caught people by surprise. We both shocked each other to an extent.




But the stares became exhausting. I guess because when American men stare at me, it’s because they like me or they don't like me. Or it’s possible I’ve got some leftover ice cream on my face. Either way, their interest in me can become unnerving.


In China, the men (and women and children) have an innocent curiosity. But I cant help but feel just a little bit violated by their gaze. If I lived in a city of 10 million tall, big-eyed, white faces and had a tiny Chinaman wander through my streets, I’d probably stop too. I might even call out “Ni Hao!” and giggle and run when he responded with a polite hello.


But the staring became exhausting because I had to stare back. And for longer. Because after a few seconds it turns into a contest of respect. “I’m not afraid of you.” “What you looking at?” “You looking at me?” “Nope, I’m looking at you. All the way home. Go on. Git.”


It’s funny because they’re not looking at me because I’m picking my nose in public (which is totally normal in China), but because I have light hair. I have to assume it is my hair, because even when I wore my sunnies they knew I was foreigner– and they started creeping hard.


Anyways, a lot of my time was devoted to this don’t blink or look away first contest. I wanted to make the onlooker feel the same uncomfortableness. He would look away, and then glance back. Catch my steady gaze, turn away again. Sneak one last look just to see that I’m still on fire. Finally, he would retreat back to his day.


The men were bad with their gaze, but the women at least knew how to give a compliment.


“Where you from?”

“USA.”
“Ok, I know it. You very beautiful.”
“Yes,” I agreed.

The people, however many, are truly kind. Chinese people are sort of like onions. Sometimes they are so pungent and seemingly unsweet that after a good whiff I want to cry. The constant spitting and yelling ("talking") is overwhelming. I’ve seen enough women squat down and let it rain in front of me. The men like to lift up their shirts and cool off their big bellies in the middle of the mall or train station or wherever they see fit. I can't help but draw back my face in disgust. Not to be rude, but reflexes– you know. On the other hand, after I had spent time with individuals, they became caramelized into the sweetest and most accommodating people I've met.


Once I peeled back the rough exterior and got down into their layers, the air started smelling more of the sweetest monk tea fragrance and less of smog.


I had so many Chinese friends and strangers go far out of their way to make sure I got whatever I needed. A bus, a meal, a ticket, a translation, a beer. Didn’t matter, they really meant well and did their best to help out this giant goofy girl. Granted, I usually ended up doing them a favor as well.


“Ok, Ok. Picture?”

“Sure. Say Cheeseeee.”
Silence.
We review the picture, they nod.
“I am very beautiful,” I tell them.
They smile at me blankly and say thank you and bye bye.
This is the owner of a famous restaurant in the capital of Hunan. She gave us a huge bag of egg rice krispies to take home for breakfast. Weird, but good.

My favorite moment happened during a mini crisis.

My dad and I had lost our friend Kurt in the Zhangjiaije National Forest Park. This park is ginormous. We were separated and told to meet at a certain mountain entrance. Of course, we got off at the wrong bus stop. I flagged down another bus and got off at a different bus stop (still not the one we needed). We were put on a third bus headed in the opposite direction, and alas, got off at the wrong stop again. It was here we decided to frantically search for our friend, or find a way to contact him.


I approached a long line of people to see if Kurt was waiting among them. I had to step up onto a platform and poke my head out a window to look over a crowd. As I did, I ascended over a group of 30 school children in bright blue jumpsuits. They looked like a gymnastics team.


It took but .5 seconds for a little girl to spot me. Almost breathlessly, she said “wooowww” when she saw me. She even did a little hand gesture like she was forming a rainbow in front of her. When her classmates heard and saw her, they also looked up.


In a choir of awe, they stared excitedly at me. Taken aback, I quickly smiled and shouted, “Ni hao!” They erupted. Cheers took over and I felt like Britney Spears on her comeback tour.


They screamed Ni Hao back to me and one little boy pushed his way to the front of his Olympic-bound team. He pointed to me and said “You cheerreader?” No… I shook my head, “Wo shi bu cheerleader.” Their disappointment was almost palpable.


Never have I regretted a word so much. If only my parents had given me pompoms as a child, damn it! However, I still think the encounter wasn't a total loss. But the boy's hurt was obvious as he slunk away, no longer interested in me.




There was another girl who was dressed in traditional Chinese garments. She donned a bright pink top and long, flowy skirt with silver headwear. Her hair was straight black that reached her bum– as was fashionable back in the day. Of course, she was just working the 9-5 and wanted 20 RMB for a photo. Although I did not want this, I nodded to her “No thank, but very pretty.” To which she replied very seriously, “You’re very beautiful.” To which I replied, even more seriously, and incorporated a point to emphasis my words, “No, you’re beautiful.” Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as she giggled hysterically.


I never knew I was so funny or beautiful until I came to China.


One girl we met followed me on Instagram. After I returned to censorship-free Saint Martin, I was able to check out her account. I really loved seeing a photo of us together in a random cave in China. Even though all we knew about her was that she spoke English from working in a Hooters in Shanghai– at least we have that memory recorded in a selfie.




^My friends who made China great. My experience in China was a thousand times better thanks to their invaluable information and kindness.

Thursday, May 4, 2017

Zhangjiajie National Forest Park

Zhangjiajie (pronounced chang-gee-ah-gee-eh) is China's first national forest park. Absolutely the most impressive place I've ever been. Not only are the mountain formations amazing, the fact that the Chinese were able to build an entire park around it, over it and under it was almost equally spectacular.


The area is a UNESCO World Heritage site and a Global Geopark. The karst mountains were formed over millions of years by the sea. Creating sandstone peaks with vegetation everywhere.



One thing that kept creeping into my mind was how the trees were able to grow on the very tops of the rock. No soil? No problem. If a tree can sustain life here, then at least I can accomplish a few of my own goals. Thanks, trees... for putting things into perspective for me.





The Austrian-made cablecars were impeccable. We had to throw down a whopping $11 a person to ride, but being Westerns on vacation, we agreed. I'm still trying to figure out how they were built. Keep in mind, there's no real path up to the mountains here. Jagged rock 90% of the way. And since we often saw workers carrying buckets of cement on their backs, it made us wonder how dedicated these people are. I would have liked to ask them, but we found very few English speakers among us.





This blue sky was not often seen in China. Not much later in the day the rain picked up and the wind kicked in. I was wearing shorts. To my surprise, the Chinese men and women found this hilarious. I've never been so openly ridiculed. I was shamed into buying a rain jacket and wool shaw. No more pointing and laughing at me! I'm still bitter.


This quartz-sandstone pillar has been renamed "Avatar Hallelujah Mountain" thanks to its fame in the movie. Which is how Westerns really became aware of this place. Funny enough, the director said the scenery was an inspiration for the movie, but they had no affiliation with the park. Of course, the Chinese brushed that aside and took credit for the movie. I would too.













Strange enough, we saw about three birds in the park. There were monkeys, though. My father, despite the signs: "do none teasing to the monkey," tried feeding them a muffin. Giant salamanders are also said to be around, though I only saw them on menus.









The day when I invested in a selfie stick, and my life changed forever.