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.