Day 4: Fog & Bewilderment

Day 4:

We woke up to total darkness and the bus hadn't moved since 1:00 a.m. I briefly remember Alicia saying, "the bus has stopped, there is no driver, and I can see nothing." Clearly, I wasn't too worried because I faded right back to sleep only to wake in the exact same spot six hours later. Apparently we'd arrived at the bus station in Yuanyang at 1:00 a.m. They just park and let you sleep until you wake. I woke to Alicia telling me we had arrived and apparently had done so at 1:00 a.m. when we'd stopped.
We walked out to darkness at 7:00 a.m., and a fog so thick we couldn't see the end of the bus or five feet in front of us. A man was going to take us to the first of the terraces but we needed a bathtroom first. We walked to the hostel with our new Israeli friends and freshened up. With our faces and teeth brushed we were ready for the day only to be informed by the man on duty that the fog wouldn't clear any time soon so we'd see nothing of the terraces today.
We had a coffee with the guys as they ate their porridge discussing their travels, our travels, roots, plans and and all the normal chit-chat between 20-somethings.  Finally Alicia and I decided to get a room and hope the sky cleared by tomorrow morning. Originally we wanted to spend the day at the terraces straight from the bus and be back in town by nightfall to catch another night ride to Kunming. The terraces were high on our list so we decided to sacrifice a day in Kunming to stay.
We checked in and spent time reading and napping until noon. Still foggy, we tried to walk around and see something, if anything, of the village. The fog was still unbearably thick. It was so humid we had dew drops in our hair. We found some lunch then grabbed some beers and chilled in the hostel.
We were not down in spirits, just relaxing and staying optimistic that the fog would clear by morning. If not we were screwed because our tight schedule doesn't allow for time here past 6:00 p.m. Saturday.
We sat chatting and drinking our beers while the sunlight came in and out of the room in waves, all the while, still hidden behind the fog.
Like all the other miracles throughout our trip, at 3:00 p.m. I looked out the window and the fog had cleared 75% since I'd looked out the window 20 minutes earlier.
We practically ran out of the hostel and began trekking through the town. We headed up and passed a school and many fields and small gardens that had been invisible just minutes earlier. The sky was a clear blue with the fluffiest white clouds and the fog was drifting quickly to the west past the villages and gardens below, revealing the mountains in the distance. We walked for an hour and a half with no destination in mind. We walked through countless tiny villages. The mountains above and the valleys below us hold a million shades of green from trees to gardens of wildflowers where even the weeds surrounding them are beautiful. 

We are in Yunnan Province in the southwest part of China. The rice terraces we plan to visit in Yuanyang County are considered to be the most beautiful rice terraces in the world. Yuanyang is home to numerous ethnic groups including Hani, Yi, Miao, Han and many more. The Hani people make up 53% of the 88% total ethnic population and are the dominate population of Yuanyang. They have been here since the Sui and Tang Dynasties; 1,300 years ago. 
Today, you can see traditionally dressed Hani women in the colorful headdresses and black trousers and tops with colorful designs embroidered on them. You can see them walking through the villages, working in the fields and working in the streets in construction. The villages we walked through today were full of women in their fifties to seventies working like dogs. The women carry bamboo sticks across their shoulders with large baskets tied to either side. Other women carry the baskets on their backs like backpacks. They can be seen picking vegetables in the gardens below the main road. Many women are laying brick or shoveling dirt and gravel next to the men. These women work as hard as the men here. The men have no distinguishable clothing on, but they too are in their fifties to seventies with leathery dark skin and wrinkles from years of working in the southern sun.

Just working from a storage unit.

Traditional Hani housing

 

 




The children play with nothing. They run through the streets chasing each other and playing with broken toys and they appear incandescently happy.
We saw a group of children in one of the fields below jumping up and down the hills of the paddies.
The sun was shining and it was a perfect 65 degrees now. We smiled and waved at everyone. Many appaeared happy to see us, as Chinese people often do, but some looked sour-faced.

A sneek peek of the rice terraces

 

As we continued walking up, we crossed a place called Artist Village, which was not yet developed. The signs along the outside wall showed this place would be luxury, five-star hotels with pools designed to look like the rice terraces and bar streets full of neon lights and tourist. Alicia and I are both upset by this. If you can't come somewhere so naturally beautiful, sleep in a hostel, or two-star hotel, run by locals, then you don't deserve to see such a magnificent place. 
The Hani people literally live off the land and still trade goods to get buy. The villages themselves are still building and developing enough homes to shelter their people. They don't need this overly touristic place above their terraces reminding them of how little they have. I don't think they mind they live in such an underdeveloped community without proper plumbing or dinning and luxury buildings. Who needs those things when you can wake up somewhere so breathtaking each day and when all your family and it's ancestors, for the last dozen of centuries, has known is working and living in the rice terraces.
I have honestly, not even in pictures, seen something so incredibly beautiful, natural, functioning and simplistic as this community of Hani people.
After seeing the Artists Village and what it will turn Yuanyang to over the next several years with tourism, Alicia and I know why some of the locals were not as thrilled to see us.
If you want to see a part of the world that is amazing, you need to see it like we saw it today, not commercialized and built to comfort tourists like it will become in the next several years. 

Day 3: A 270-million-year-old wonder

Day 3: Shilin Stone Forest 

We arrived in Kunming around 12:45 a.m. and cabbed to the hostel by 1:45 a.m. An older Chinese man met us at the cab and walked us through the alley to the hostel where we checked in with a procedure of him pointing at each step on a five-page check-in list written in Chinese with English translated under each section. 
He points to the price section, then deposit, then room keys with bed and locker numbers. Then No. 16 says you'll pick up the passports at checkout in the morning. 
We found our room and beds and it is 2:00 a.m. now and all other bunkers are asleep already. Aicia's phone is dead and with my 15% battery we use the light to locate our lockers where the pillows and sheets should be. There is nothing more than scraps of linen in the locker and it's late and dark so we took our backpacks in the hallway, changed then went back in and used jackets as pillows. 
Some (insert explicit word here) lady left the door open and turned the main light on in the room at 6:00 a.m. She must have missed the course on hostel etiquette. Thanks to her, we woke up freezing and sleepless. We woke to check out and had a coffee with a lady from Switzerland while we waited for our passports. She had been traveling throughout Russia and Asia for the past three months. She said she'd recently retired and turned 60 on July 1, and by July 4 she was on a plane headed to travel the world. She said she'd done a lot of traveling in the past, but now she was retired and could travel forever. Switzerland is so expensive and has such a high currency that anywhere else in the world is cheap in comparison. I want to be just like her after I've worked all my life. We bid her farewell and wished we'd run into each other again in Dali during our travels. 
We headed toward bus K-9 that would take us to the Kunming East Bus Station where we'll catch the bus to Shilin (Stone Forest.) When we go to board the bus there are no seats. The woman keeps telling us to go in and sit and all we can say is "méi yǒu," (none in Chinese.) We of course stand out and there is one seat left. A woman makes her son sit in her lap and now there are two seats in the back left corner of the bus. The other three Chinese, back row Baptists, gladly welcome us. We are back packers and our backpacks do not fit in the miniscule overhead space so they are in the aisle of the bus. The three people on our row are from northeast China on holiday. The one gentleman speaks English and tells us he manages a company and this is his wife, as he points to the woman next to him, and their friend, pointing to the gentleman to my right. 
We have an hour and a half on the bus. I read, and Alicia dozes off and on. When the bus stops we see no stone mountains and the crowd from the bus has dispersed so quickly we are the only ones left standing. We walked to different desks, both of which were reluctant to help us, and were pointed in another direction. We see a swarm of buses outside and still no Stone Forest so are a bit confused at this point. Finally we are directed down where we see a large building and a screen of pictures flashing the forest so we assume we've made it. 
Wrong! You must take another 25RMB bus to the actual entrance that's only 2kms away. We said, to hell with it, we'll walk it. Bad idea. We ended up on the freeway and a man in a tut tut picked us up and was going to take us for 10RMB. He took us alright. All the way to the train station, which I might add was sketchy as hell. So we show him the picture in the guide of Stone Forest and he shoos us back into the tut tut. We ride in the back for another 20 minutes and he has taken us back to where we started. We throw him 20 and thank him. It's not his fault and he is happy so we wave him off and try again. 
We had maybe three hours of sleep the night before, or should I say in the early morning, so we were quite fed up and ready to check off Stone Forest without ever entering. 
We bite the bullet and buy the damn ticket down only to pay another 175RMB at the entrance. These people really know how to make money. 
So, for anyone who plans to go here in the future, just be prepared for the prices. We were prepared for the 175, we just didn't realize it'd be such a chore to get inside.
When we walk in, we're still quite annoyed by the previous half hour of our journey to Shilin. All I can say is, "This shit better be incredible." And Alicia is so annoyed she is practically mute, ha. The first portion is completely touristic and unnatural. However, we can finally see the promise of a stone forest in our future, so we pick up the spirit a tad. 
We walk further in and stop for some fruit to fuel up. This woman wants 10 for an apple. I wanted to throw it at her. Even the fruit is outrageously priced. We settled fro three bananas. As many tourist attractions as there are in China, given it's history, so far all the places I've been to are not like other countries where the food and drinks are outrageously overpriced. This place, however, must be the Disney World of China because everything about it is overpriced. 
We finally make it into the heart of the forest where there are only stones towering over us covered in limestone. They call it karst.
Southern China's karst topography is known around the world. The hills and mountains of this area are one of the most famous for karst landscape. The color and shapes comes from limestone. The decay and deterioration of certain chemicals and such. I apologize for not being a geologist or having more motivation to research the specifics. I do know it's 270 million years old and one of the most famous natural world wonders of the world. 

Sideways: This is called "deep and narrow"

HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY

Obviously the paths were created when the forest became a national park in the 30's, but the rest is naturally formed from the limestone eating away the structure. It is truly beautiful in the heart of the forest. The further in we went, the less people we were surrounded by and it only became more incredible. Within 20 minutes, our grumpy frowns were flipped upside down. We are posing on rocks like Rocky at the top of the steps to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. We are squeezing through narrow passageways often having to back up, remove backpacks, and proceed forward again. Ducking, dodging and trekking- we are thrilled. There are caves and nooks and crannies all throughout the stones. At some point we stumble upon some goats foraging in the shrubbery. 
And these spiders. Huge, colorful and occurring in infinite numbers. Many of the same in one web which blew my mind. They were everywhere. I'm not normally intimidated by spiders, but I had no idea what these guys were capable of so I did my best to run quickly underneath everytime they were in an over pass. They were only in the trees and shrubbery, never on or in and around the stones and pillars. I tried my hardest to find them online but no luck. Thanks for nothing, Bing. 

 

We made our way to the walking path and headed toward the exit. Our two hours was up and we have a very tight schedule to follow. We make it back to the unhelpful bus station we arrived at, purchased our ticket back to Kunming and spent another hour and a half on the bus. 
Sidenote: In the spring of this year, a massacre happened in the Kunming bus station. We don't know if it was the one we'd been in or not, but apparently some activists or gang members came in with machetes and killed hundreds of people. It was a tragic thing. Research it if you like, but I'll spare any details I know. 
The girl at the bus stop in Shilin told us it'd be hard to find a taxi once back in Kunming because of this. Luckily, she was wrong and cabs lined up at the exit for passengers.
It was 4:45 and we needed to be across town at Kunming South Bus Station to catch a bus to Yuanyang. We make it to the south station an hour later in time to book our ticket and get some dinner. 
We are taking a sleeper bus and have no idea what to expect. We walk on and can barely make it to our bunk from laughing so hard. It's bunks on bunks and everyone has already boarded except us. They hand us plastic bags to put our shoes in as we walk on. We head to the back and now have a space for five and there are only the two of us. We take a selfie because it's necessary proof and pass out. When we stop for a bathroom break I hit the trenches and have a conversation with two Israeli guys who are on our bus. They've just finished their term serving in the Israeli army and have been traveling Asia for the past two months with their other friend who's asleep on the bus. 
I forget most countries don't have volunteer enlistment like the U.S. now does. These boys served from 18-21. Involuntarily. They didn't speak ill of it or anything. It's law for them and I suppose they always knew that's what they'd do after high school. Now there time is done and I imagine the whole time they were in the army they said to each other, "when we finish our term, let's travel the world." And they are. Just another reason to be thankful all my boys are able to choose whether or not to serve. 
I wrote this blog from the back of the sleeper bus once I cam back in from the bathroom break. I was wide awake with excitement, but I eventually forced myself to fall asleep. We slept like babies. Those sleeper beds were more comfortable than the hostels we'd stayed in so far. 

Day 2: Biking and Hiking

Day 2: Yangshuo

Before my alarm sounded, I woke to a steady down pour of rain outside the hostel window. Our plan was to wake at 6:30 to head out for riding bikes around the city by seven. When we woke and heard the raining coming down we checked the weather to see the forecast for later. From 9:00 a.m. onward the rain was clear, but the sky would remain partly cloudy. We slept for another hour and by 8:00 a.m., when we went down for the bikes, the rain had stopped.

We set out toward Moon Hill, but, since we went the wrong way, we went 8km out of the way to the Ancient Town of Fuli. It seems we headed east, and not south.

When we set out on the bikes that morning, Alicia said, "we can't get lost because we don't know where we're going."
We didn't have a plan other than to ride bikes around Yangshuo, so she was right, and we didn't get lost all day, ha.
From Fuli, we realized if we kept going we'd leave Yangshuo so we turned around. Within an hour we were 8km in, including a million stops for pictures. By the time we were 16km down, we were headed in the right direction toward Moon Hill, where we originally intended to go.
We passed rock climbing, Butterfly Cave, a bridge over Little River and then we were at Moon Hill. We parked the bikes and made our way to the top. We met a Swiss and Irish guy on our way to the top who were just in China for holiday. I love meeting people, but discussions for 20 minutes while I hike to the top of a mountain was a real struggle.

You should know mountains aren't hiked in China. Every time I've gone "hiking" here I've just spent hours toning my gluts from climbing stairs. Apparently the Chinese find stairs easier than steep walking. Believe me, there is a difference. 
We make it to the top where a 75-year-old woman, and her friend are waiting with coolers of drinks and postcards. Like many, they know key words and are relentless.

"You buy one beer me. One her. Ok?"

You get annoyed after the fifth time they ask, and they become less of cute old ladies, and more of a distraction from the scenery. But you stay calm because hell they climbed the same path you did and they've got half a century on you.
From the top the view is incredible. The sky is still gray and there is fog amidst the mountains giving an eerie look to the mountains. We can see the village and town below, and the perfectly rowed gardens and farms surrounding the shacks. 
We hike to the bottom where we are forced to pay 5RMB for a water from the lady who "watched" our coats while we hiked up. These women, man...

Moon Hill

Bridge over Little River

Top of Moon Hill

From Moon Hill we biked back toward town. We passed on rock climbing because as much as I'm trying to conquer my fear of heights, the price was steeper than the mountain. There is also a butterfly cave we passed on for the same reason, although Alicia was going to face her fears as well. I guess our fears weren't ready to be conquered or tested. 

Back in town we return our bikes to the hostel and have a shower. It's only 2:00 p.m. and our bus to Guilin airport is at seven. We pack up and walk through town some more. We found Yangshuo Park that's full of old men playing poker, dominoes and backgammon at small stone tables. The dancing ladies were gathered in a square in the park. 
From the park we walked toward the side of the river we hadn't seen. Across the river was farm land where water buffalo roamed. We walked along the unrailed path and found a man with Cormorants tied to his boat. 
It's common here for the fishers to clip the wings of these birds so they can't fly. They use these birds for catching fish. They tie the birds to the ends of bamboo and you can pay 5RMB to hold the bamboo stick and take your picture with the bird. PEDA would not have been pleased with us, but it made for a cool picture.

We grabbed a beer at a rooftop bar and enjoyed the last hour of our time in beautiful Yangshou with the mountains in plain sight and watching other travelers peruse the streets below. We talked about how lucky we were to have seen all the things we had in the past two days. We had no idea then how much better each day would get. 

Day 1: The Language Barrier: Stage 1

Day1:

We arrived in Guilin at half past midnight. The flood of people from our flight were the only souls in the airport at this hour. We made it to the exit where the vultures lined up to take passengers to their final destinations. 

Alicia booked a hostel which we thought was in Guilin, but was in Yangshuo, which wasn't our destination until the following afternoon. We called other hostels listed in our guide book with no luck. Finally, we chose one that hadn't connected through the phone so we decided to just take the cab to it with our fingers crossed. We pull up to the hostel and realized the number didn't work because the place was shut down.
Our cab driver offers to take us to another place that "takes foreigners." She speaks zero English so Alicia was able to see how well her Chinese lessons had paid off while I just respond with "dui" and "xie xie" every thirtieth word or so.
The next place wants 120RMB each. In China you can pay 30RMB for a bed. We are on a strict budget, so even though it's 1:25 a.m., this place is not an option.
At this point the cabbie is our friend. We've both told her "wǒ ài nǐ" ("I love you"), as she drives us through Guilin in search of a bed. She laughs at us in this adorable cackle of a voice. She then makes a call and tells us she can get us a room for 60 each and we feel we have no other option at 2:00 a.m. since we need to wake up in four hours. So she takes us, walks us in, gets the key and shows us the room. We pay the hotel then her. They gave us a set price from the airport to the city and after all the driving around she didn't ask for more than that price. Don't worry, we minded our manners and gave a tip. We took a photo with her then went upstairs to our room and passed out within five minutes of hitting the pillow.

Four hours later:

When the alarms sounded, in unison, at 6:00 a.m., Alicia said, I don't want to move. I said ok and an hour and a half later I hear, "It's so late." I asked what time and heard, "11:40." What she'd said was, "7:40."
We jumped up, rearranged everything back into our backpacks, brushed our teeth and layered up to weather the day. We spent the next half hour asking where the bus station was and being pointed in multiple directions.
Finally, a fellow foreigner is in view and I ask him if he can help. His Chinese girlfriend was more than happy to have us repeat "bus to Yangdi," in Chinese a dozen times. She sent us on our way saying, "ask people if you can't find it." 

Five minutes later, a hustler lady stops us and we communicate with her about getting to the bus. She says 20 each and we agree because that's how much the bus costs. The whole time we think she's taking us by cab but soon we're walking five more minutes and I'm thinking, "where the hell did this lady park her cab?" It turns out she was just walking us to the bus station where she put us on the bus like a mother sending her kids to their first day of school. Except we had to pay this mother 20RMB, ha.
Ten minutes later the bus is rolling. Fifteen minutes later I'm drooling against my backpack that I've turned into a pillow. Thirty-five minutes after that I wake up to a bus full of Chinese people hoping we're headed in the right direction.
As the only two foreigners on the bus we are enjoying the scenery as we here "hello" shouted and everyone turns to us to let us know this is our stop: Yangdi.
From here there are people waiting to recruit us onto their bus that will take us to the river where we will begin walking toward Xingpin, where we hope to stay in a village if we can make it there by nightfall.
Also, it's raining and I'm in search of a poncho. The bus stopped and as soon as the door opened hagglers were shoving ponchos and flower halos in our faces. I bought one and we spent the next 15 minutes haggling for a ferry to cross the river. Guilin is famous for taking the bamboo boats down the Li River from village to village. Alicia and I wanted to hike from Yangdi to Xingpin, but no one would let us simply ferry across the river to walk. With the rain coming down and because we had a late start we caved and got a bamboo boat with a young Chinese couple on holiday from Beijing. 

Bamboos

 

Alicia and Daisy; weathering the rain

 

Language isn't necessary to communicate when you're on adventures. The natural beauty surrounding us in all directions, including down, since we're floating down the Li River, speaks louder than words. The smiles on faces, fingers pointing left then right, then back left, while eyes filled with awe and wonder is plenty of understanding.

Throughout the boat ride we pass endless mountains and the day is eerily foggy and the rain continues to fall in a light drizzle. We see many famous hills along the way: Pen Holder Peak, Liyuguabi Hill, Boys Bow to Kwan-yin Hill and Nine Horse Mural Hill.

Nine horse Mural Hill is incredible and we spend a solid 10 minutes trying to find at least one of the horses, while Daisy, the Chinese girl with us, says she sees seven. We take photos and load back on the bamboo boat. We still have a half hour ride in the rain until we reach Xingpin. 

Group selfie on the bamboo boat

                             

Nine Horse Mural Hill

Once in Xingpin, we located the replica scenery from the 20 yuan bill. A cliche foreigner act, but hey, I am a foreigner! We left the bamboo boat and headed toward the village: Xingping Ancient Town.
The things seen can only be believed if you see the pictures. We are literally in a picturesque village somewhere off the map in the south of China. Granted it's a well-known tourist spot, we're here in the off season and the amount of foreigners there, including Alicia and I, was two.
We walk along a brick wall with shards of glass sticking out on the top, which I assume is to keep off the pigeons, like the spikes used in big cities. To my surprise inside the brick wall was a school- a bit extreme for my taste. We passed a woman hoeing a garden of various things I couldn't identify. 

It was really hard to capture the whole view while holding the 20 and the camera. :)

If I never hear "bamboo" again I'll be happy. The river life must be hard. Like all places known for tourism, locals know who to target and many can be stubborn as mules on their prices. Many Chinese assume if you're a foreigner you have a lot of money so they name outrageous prices. You really have to know how to haggle in this country because in certain situations you can just become stuck. you should also always research the prices so you have a knowledge and don't just pay ridiculous fairs. Know a bit of Chinese to communicate. It pays to not be completely ignorant here.
First, our trusty Chinese couple from the bamboo boat guided us to the bus station so we would know where to go later. We wished them safe travels and we parted ways and found some lunch. Lunch was incredible, and I was so hungry I even ate my vegetables. We had three hours to catch the bus after lunch and we wanted to find the fisherman's village. This is a top attraction where you can catch the locals using Cormorants (a type of bird) to fish from the river. This is actually common in most of the villages and towns throughout the southern Chinese provinces.
We walked according to the map as best we could but hit a dead end. When we turned around we stopped for some Chinese sweets that is similar to peanut brittle, and I don't know the English name for it. The man selling it spoke impeccable English which was a miracle given where we were. He informed us, to our dismay, that it was a two-hour hike. This meant we couldn't make it there and back in time for our bus in three hours. We thanked him and decided to make our way to the bus stop and leave earlier. We perused through the dozens of bodegas with handcrafted jewelry, jade sculptures and other trinkets.  

Making scarves

You can ALWAYS find locals playing poker or Mahjong

We were approaching the bus stop as the bus was leaving so we jumped on and were now bound to Yangshuo  This was an hour bus ride through the mountains to the next town of civilization.
Pulling in, Yangshuo was much larger than Xingpin, but was more incredible than we imagined. As the sun began to set, more and more neon lights light the path of the main road from their signs. When night came, lights shown on the mountains in the distance.
The mountains here are so incredible in shape and structure that they look photoshopped into reality. They look like movie props and we're just walking through a city designed by a Hollywood set crew. It's completely
indescribable and myself, through words, and pictures, captured through lenses, could never bring the right feel of this town's beauty.
We sat on the rooftop bar having a cocktail staring at the mountains in the moonlight. The mountains are yards in front of us just beyond a row of buildings. They almost serve as a wall for the city that's in its valley because no signs of life or another world appear to exist beyond the mountain except for silhouettes of more mountains. 

Flying

Going to the airport after work for holiday is a weird thing to me. I have a real job with a monthly paycheck and I'm going on a journey and coming home to the same job. And I'm happy about this.
The last flight I took was the one that brought me to China four months ago. A flight I honestly didn't know whether or not I'd regret taking months down the road. 
The flight before that was leaving New York to come to China. Before that was flying to New York jobless with literally nothing more than dreams. Before that was returning from Europe jobless and infected with an uncontrollable desire to be anywhere but Louisiana. 
It seems every flight I've taken in the past year was running from boredom or running toward adventure and uncertainty. 
Finally I've found a place where I can be anyone I want to be and at the end of the day, I only choose to be the same me I've always been, but with no veils. I say and do as I please because I'm finally able to. I finally realized the old me isn't who I was running from. I've just been running toward the new me. For months I regretted many events in my recent past, but now I embrace them, I realize where I've landed and that it was worth every struggle I ever endured that I never imagined would end.
I'm writing this from 15,000 feet above China headed to Guangxi Province to a beautiful city called Guilin. 
I'm with my recently adopted Venezuelan roommate, Alicia. We are on a non-stop, nine-day adventure through the south of China in the Yunnan and Hunnan Provinces.
Full fledge adventuring: hiking multiple mountains, river cruising, sleeping in monasteries in the mountains and overnight coach buses. 
In my wildest dreams, (and trust me my imagination is quite expansive,) I never imagined I'd be backpacking in the south of China as vacation from my life in Beijing.
I don't know where the courage to run came from, but for the first time in years I'm genuinely pleased with life and what lies ahead in my future. When I first moved from my home state last year I had no clue of the future I wanted for myself, I only knew it wasn't in Louisiana. And it certainly wasn't a 9-5, a car note, birdseeds trailing white satin, 10% down or pink and blue surprises. Not for another decade at least, anyway. 
Even after the week I had with small problems that seemed so grand because of language barriers and customs, at the end of the day, Louisiana doesn't seem like the better choice for me. 
So, I'll enjoy the next nine days of holiday and then I'll return to the job I love, and to my home in Beijing with my family and I'll be happy all the same.

FedUp :)

This is not a post so you can freely express some 'Murican opinion, but a post to let you know how lucky you all are. Please refrain from a plethora of rude comments about communism v. democracy v. capitalism v. republics or whatever your preference is. I love China, honestly. As a foreigner, you don't realize so many of the restrictions because many of us are privileged here and treated differently, so that don’t always affect us. If you know me you know I have zero patience, especially when it comes to getting things accomplished. When you don't speak the language, it's damn near impossible to even pay your light bill. Each month we fill up our electric, gas and water on a debit card at the convenience store downstairs from our apartment. Then we have to call the landlord to insert it in a wall for us and make sure it works. 

You all know mommy dearest has sent me a package of assorted belongings and treasures. I’ve been waiting for said package all week. When I call FedEx the only English they can spit out is, “Do you have a Chinese friend with you?”

I say no, (in Chinese.) They continue with Chinese talk and I just continue saying, “I don’t know,” and “I don’t understand” (also in Chinese.)

Living abroad is a real struggle for multiple reasons. I am used to being the one to help others when I can. I’m used to doing things on my own. Sure I still call my parents to ask them what to do and how to do it first, but then I go and do it. My parents taught me independence at a young age and I’ve been taking pride in it ever since. 

In China, I can’t even pay rent on my own. I have to transfer money from my account into the landlords, but the ATM is in Chinese so I have to bring Jasmine with me. People who don’t work with fellow, English-speaking Chinese or have close Chinese friends, I pity you. I honestly don’t know how they do it. Even the foreigner friends I have who’ve lived here for months, some for years, don’t always have the answers. 

I feel defenseless 90 percent of the time. I can’t change the language on my cell phone without the help of a Chinese friend. To say I’m lucky is an understatement.

I get on quite well in China, but it’s only because of the Chinese family I’ve made here. They have all taken me under their wing at some point: helping me to fill the gas and electric card, buy an outlet adapter, order food, find locations, and the list is endless (literally). These people are my family and they do it willingly. There is no, “I’ll help you if you help me.” I mean there is, but it’s an unspoken agreement. It’s a general respect. Karma exists here as much as it ever did for me. 

Last week I finally got a new smart phone, which I managed to drop in water last night. I’ve been trying to send money to the States for months, now that I’ve finally figured it out, the banks are closed for a week thanks to APEC. And, last but not least, said package I’ve been trying to acquire for a week I’m now told I can’t obtain until a sample of my DNA, my blood type, a copy of my flight agenda to China and passport have been delivered to FedEx. The DNA and blood sample bit is obviously an exaggeration that stems from the frustration I’ve endured these last few days. 

My favorite co-worker, Kelly, volunteers to call FedEx and sort all of this business for me. She’s on the phone and filling out documents in Chinese for me all day as I sit defenseless waiting to do something as measly as sign my signature on the bottom-left corner of the documents. 

Finally, we are scanning documents and getting ready to send the email and I told her just do whatever option is easier so I can get on with the day. I am not even interested in receiving the package at this point. Sidenote: the major hold up is that there are too many clothes in the package. Customs requires specific lists of all items in a package with the price of said items to avoid people getting things shipped here for resale. Mind you I’m at least five sizes larger than the largest of Chinese women so there is no chance of my clothes being resold for any sort of profit. But, customs is customs. 

Kelly tells me, “it’s a small thing,” when I thanked her for the thousandth time for helping me. She said, “I hate to see you upset about this. It happens to everyone.” I told her I don’t understand why everything in China has to be SOOOOO hard and I don’t know how she does it.

“I grew up with this. I’m used to it,” she replied without a care in a world.

Don’t I feel like an ass. 

So, I wrote all of this to say that every time I get bummed here I have to remind myself that I didn’t grow up here and I chose to have less freedoms and even in a country with far less freedoms, I still don’t have it as bad as most do here. The world is shit and it isn’t fair. Just maybe we all need to realize there is always someone who has a less fair life than we do somewhere out there. As cliche as that all sounds.

Transitioning: Four Months Down

This week marked four months I've been in China. I think I adjusted fairly quickly to culture shock and living in a place that is equivalent to America, post WWII. Technologically, China is advanced well beyond us, I think. Politically and culturally, however, much of China is still recovering from the Culture Revolution of the '90s and is about where America was in the '50s as far as politics and cultures. 
I am reading a book called, "101 Stories for Foreigners to Understand Chinese People," which is about exactly what it sounds like. The book is written by a Chinese woman who grew up in the States, married an American who now works in Shanghai and it talks about all the cultural differences between the two countries and tells funny stories and gives interesting facts and such. It's a really fascinating book and I was surprised at how much I already knew from it just from my four months here.
This particular book is more for entertainment than factual guidance. It is somewhat resourceful in the sense it gives good background information on certain aspects of the culture. 
I've previously written a bit about cultural differences and the culture shock of living in China, now I can move past the obvious shockers like children in ass-less pant bottoms. 
First, Beijing is an international city and there is quite a large population of foreigners like myself so it makes adjusting much easier. I work for a well-known company that isn't small in size, either. The company is really good about directing newbies to the nearest nest of foreigners. There are several neighborhoods in Beijing that have practically been taken over by foreigners. Going to these foreigner-friendly places is sometimes like entering another dimension. When foreigners make up 95% of attendance in any restaurant or bar, I always forget I'm in China. Then I walk outside and it's like being spit back into reality. It sounds bizarre, but trust me, my fellow foreigners know exactly what I'm talking about. 
Crazier than that, I avoid foreign places sometimes. First, Western places are always more expensive because anything imported costs a month's rent here. Second, I have fallen madly in love with Chinese food and quite enjoy being surrounded by locals. Plus, if you're having a bad day, eating in a Chinese place helps because the stares make you feel like a celebrity, ha. 
You have to be careful with food here, but you also have to branch out tremendously. For me, I'm an extremely picky eater and I have surprised myself at the things I'll eat here. I crave cucumbers now, and I voluntarily buy, and eat, lettuce. When I go to Carrefour, the Chinese Wal-Mart, I can pick out a fish that's still swimming and watch them cut it right there on a table. I pick out carrots and potatoes so fresh from a garden that they're still covered in dirt. I pick out chicken breast from a pile in the market and throw it in a freezer bag for the attendants to weigh. Going to the grocery store, honestly shouldn't be so entertaining, but it truly is. Plus, little things amuse little minds. :) 
The fruit here is unbelievably delicious. I walked into work a few weeks ago and asked my co-workers if they thought fruit vendors injected their apples with steroids because they are all softball-sized. This is not an exaggeration. Bananas taste better here and the oranges are delectably juicy. 

But moving on from food...

Aside form the obvious adjustments to food one must make when moving across the world to another country, there is the everyday, run-of-the-mill routines and human interactions. My personal favorite routine: my daily commute (sarcasm at its max.) You all know my feelings of the subway in Beijing. I love it so much I've decided the name for my book from this journey will be, "Beijing Metro: Have You Seen My Soul?" I absolutely despise the subway. The Chinese have zero recognition, better definition, of what personal space is. It is nonexistent here. I've adjusted to that and just accepted that there are 22 million people in one city. However, the pace at which people move is dreadful. I am an extremely impatient person, and living in China has only worsened that quality in myself. How is this rambling any different from what I've previously blogged about my passionate dislike for the subway you ask? Well, friends, now I'm quite merciless when pushing through the wave of human traffic in the subway. I try to be polite, patient and walk at the pace of my fellow Chinese peers, but sometimes I just can't. Many people are glued to their cellphones here, and it is infuriating because it distracts them from walking quickly, or sometimes, from walking at all. On that note, using headphones is often few and far between. Many people have cell phones the size of iPads, which they use to watch TV and movies at a volume which all fellow passengers can enjoy. Or not enjoy in my case. These annoyances on the subway, I fear will never change. The headphone thing is a lack of manners and respect to others and the walking is just.. well, I just can't stand it.

Aside front the lack of human movement in the subway, the rest is bearable. Three weeks ago when I lost my iPhone and was unable to listen to my music (visa headphones) as I usually do, I became quite fond of my daily commutes. You notice a lot when you have no other option but to hear what's going on around you. I began to repeat the subway stops in my head and can now say all 13 I pass daily quite well. (Trust me this is a bigger accomplishment than you'd think.) I learned the word for "arrived," which has been useful in cabs. Also, I always have my headphones in because I like writing or reading on the train to work and constant conversation is obviously a big distraction for me. However, since I don't understand Chinese, it's not distracting at all. 
One more thing about the subway that has turned into a bit of a game is the stares. I've informed you all of the staring situation. A few weeks ago I was riding home with a co-worker and she and I decided that at any given moment on the subway, you could look up and catch at least three people staring, and that's only in one direction. So far, we haven't miscalculated. It's entertaining enough. 

Last subject on the subway. In New York, I learned to ignore beggars and preachers on the subway. Although I could speak their language and read their signs, I became hardened by it all. It's often hard to decipher who is truly in need and who isn't. The same applies here in Beijing. However, I find myself feeling more sympathetic here. I don't act on this emotion, but because I can't understand them  I feel worse because even if I believed they were in need I'd never be able to communicate what it was they were needing. On the subways, the beggars have these radios that BLAST a depressing Chinese song that I assume is the equivalent of Sarah McLaughlin's, "Arms of the Angel." It's extremely depressing and for whatever reason they feel the need to play said music at maximum volume which makes me pity them less (to sound like a totally heartless jerk.) Just as in the States, many of these peoples are performers and make more money than the rest of the community at the end of the day. However, I've also heard from several people that gangs often find the run-down and force them to beg and perform and such. This is where I become saddened. I couldn't imagine being forced to the ultimate form of shame. In China, these acts are extremely shameful. It's very frowned upon to carry your child around begging for money. Pride is a dangerous thing. I often fear it'll be the death of this country. 

The last form of adjusting that is a daily struggle is obviously the language barrier. I am learning a new word or phrase each day and I repeat said word or phrase until it drives my peers crazy. I will just go around saying a random Chinese word at whatever opportunity I can in hopes of it sticking in my mind. Knowing single words has actually helped because by knowing the word for "this" and "what," I realized the other day I knew how to ask, "what's this?" Quit proud of myself I have lately been asking "What's this?," in Chinese about things I know the answer to. Just knowing how to say hello, thank you, goodbye, count and other basics is an extremely helpful resource. Also, the Chinese locals love when a foreigner speaks Chinese to them, They realize how hard the language is to us and thank is is incredible when we can say, "ni hao," or "xie xie." However, that can sometimes be a problem because they'll continue to speak excessive amounts of Chinese and you have to just smile and say one of the four phrases you know for, "I don't know." 

So, that's life as of now. I'm still very much in love with the students, even the naughty ones. I love my family here and I love never knowing what is going to happen next. :)