This post is Made in China.

And I'm trying to negotiate firewalls. Photos may have to come later Betsy tuned!

Finding the Sun

I had a French teacher in high school, Madame Barlow, who grew up in an Italian neighborhood, practiced Catholicism until just before I met her, when she had converted to Greek Orthodox Christianity. I called that a lateral move. She assured me she had explored nearly every other religion, and what swayed her in the end was the sensory experience: the rites are accompanied by sounds and scents, and it was familiar to her. Easter was this past Sunday, making this week Bright Week. Though I am spending the majority of it in hazy—and even rainy—Beijing, I have managed to find moments of brightness anyway, Beijing cabs notwithstanding.

Today, we split up for the morning. Marlene was making an appearance at Ernie’s school, while Kendra paid a visit to the foundation. I was interested in visiting a temple—and coincidentally something unrelated to Mao (though I saw him, twice, later).

My way in from the train was an experience in itself. I came up from the subway--where I was the only non-Chinese--and headed to what seemed to be the entrance. I was rerouted by a young, kind-faced man, to the side street, only about 500 meters away from the main entrance. Along the way, I passed all kinds of vendors, most of whom were selling packs of incense that looked like shrink-wrapped packs of spaghetti. Old men in Tibetan robes, with pointy hats and pointy beards to match, called out to passers-by. I of course had no idea what they were saying, but could well understand they were vying for the attention of the young ladies just in front of me.

I knew I was getting closer to the entrance when I started to notice a greater number of beggars. There were several who were typical of what I had already seen elsewhere in the city. And then I began to see others: a dwarf with a deformed back; a man, wearing thick, black-rimmed eyeglasses but no shirt, exposing his bare chest with only one limb attached to it; another man played an instrument, his young son dancing behind him, while he looked up baring only whites in his eyes; and then I saw a man’s head—lowered, motionless and still—sitting on top of what looked to be a pillar rising out of the cement below, until I realized it was his torso, and only his torso.

I could not look. I could not gaze. I simply and silently expressed gratitude and made way to the entrance as quickly as I could. I don’t know if I’ll soon forget the images from those 500 meters.

I write this as I sit in a square within Lama Temple, a Tibetan Buddhist temple where people still come to worship, and according to the guidebook, the only place where people still come to worship. A long, tree-lined walkway awaited me after I paid admission. I made my way through the first gate. Each gate was elaborately decorated. I wound my way through the grounds that have been there since the mid-17^th century through a string of courtyards. Worshippers surround me. They light their incense, raise it high above their heads, and bend or kneel, sometimes repeating the motions in every direction.

The sweet smell of incense greets visitors at each entrance to each smaller temple. Plumes of smoke obfuscate their maroon and gold porticos. Just beyond, a golden smiling Buddha awaits those who pay homage. (If you can make it to the end, you'll find a 28-meter tall Buddha, listed in the Guiness Book, as it's cut from one single piece of sandalwood.) What I smell isn’t the same as Livani—what Mme Barlow and I have come to know in the Greek church—but it’s enough of a reminder to trigger thoughts of my own experiences of home and what I know to be familiar.

I wrote the above from the Temple grounds. After a brief walk in the surrounding area, I left there to meet up with Kendra and Marlene in the Forbidden City. We spent a couple of hours there, walking and catching each other up on what we had done earlier in the day.  We made it all the way into the Imperial Garden, and left just before closing—a great time to snap some shots with few people around. The rain teased us al afternoon, and finally the sun started to break through. We wound our way through the hutong (alleyways) to dinner and some leisurely shopping. We capped the day with foot massages.

As I enjoyed the luxury of having someone else rub away my day’s knots, I recalled the day's events, from being the only Westerner on the metro, to the walk to the Temple, to the sensual experience of watching others worship, to the simple joy of passing time with close friends. And once again, I find myself so thankful for all I have—and have had—for so long. One more full day here before we head home, and it's going to be 80 degrees. Bright Week indeed.

Be sure to check Kendra and Marlene's blogs (they have photos!):https://sugarflour.wordpress.com/
http://kmjtravels.wordpress.com/

More to come...

Final moments in Shanghai

As we gear up for the final evening in Shanghai, first I must wish everyone a Happy Greek Easter (or Greekster). It's been wonderful here. Shanghai is a rich, cultural city with a lot to offer. We anticipate missing its tree lined streets when we hit Beijin (though I am SO excited to take a high speed train tomorrow). Like any big city, it has its tourist side and its everyday side. I have more to write on this topic, but in the meantime I will say this: I'd come back (my Nouna was right!).

PS We did manage to squeeze in some foot massages today, which was well worth the effort. And a drink in the sun on a rooftop deck. So we're fine. Do not worry.

More to come... 

Daydreaming in Shanghai

Today, Jeff took off early and went his own way. Mar and Kendra went out to find Chinese breakfast while I hit the shower. They came back with scallion pancakes and dumplings (they really are the best friends one can travel with). We planned the day, which included hitting the Urban Planning Exhibition Center, a sculpture park and hitting the streets to wander.

The exhibition center was off the hook. While there were exhibits that showed Shanghai then and now, the entire second floor consisted of a 1:500 scale model of the city of Shanghai. I posed to Kendra: how’d that meeting go over? Because I’d be the one in the back saying, I’m sorry, boss, I thought you just said we’re going to build a scale replica of the entire city (at roughly 600 sq km). Not only was it a scale replica, but it also lit up to show it at night! There’s an exhibit on another floor that shows you how they can repair circuitry and keep it clean. The museum was great, but it had just so much content that it bordered on overwhelming.

We walked through People’s Park north to find a little place that was mentioned in all of our guidebooks. All you need to know that 20 dumplings (and good sized ones) and drinks cost us $7 US total. And it was delicious!

We headed over the sculpture park and rested for a bit. We enjoyed the art and made our way back to the French Concession. On our way, we literally stumbled upon a former residence of Chairman Mao. A free museum, we went in. It was small, but what I noticed is that the photos of him showed him smiling, which I hadn’t seen before. Somehow, it made him a bit more human to me. We spent a little time there, and I finished first so I went out to the street to watch the world go by.

Big cities are great because there is always so much to see. So many little kids were on mopeds with their grandparents. Taxis buzzed back and forth. Pedestrians of all types made their way. For many I saw today, I am sure they call Shanghai home, and they just were getting through their day. They live their life, not thinking about people elsewhere living their lives. Of course, I am guilty of the same when I am home, and because I have the luxury of time and space here, I can reflect on what doesn’t even occur to me in my daily life in Seattle. I was able to recall the times when I have had this moment when I have visited other places, be it New York, Sydney, Paris or Rome. I realize how fortunate I am to have the ability to rattle off such a list, knowing in my heart that over time it will grow, too. Like so many times before on such trips, I find myself stopping to watch the world go by, and instead find myself counting my blessings. And like so many times before, I always wind up losing count.

More to come...

Xi'an to Shanghai

My final morning is Xi'an began with a high energy phone call from Ernesto. The call was welcome, but the ring was a little jarring. I had woken up at 5.30 and was unable to go back to sleep so I was ready for a change. He asked if anyone was interested in seeing the mosque. We met up about 40 minutes later and off we went.

We walked through side streets and wound up where we had been the night before. I remembered it from the streets, the vendors, and sadly the litter. We were tempted to stop for street food, but wanted to get there. It was a nice day, a little overcast but not raining and a little warm. We paid the entry fee into the mosque and spent some time enjoying the surroundings. There were trees and birds singing. Bees pollinated fragrant jasmine. Few visitors interrupted the serenity.

The mosque was founded in 725 AD. It was pretty incredible to see the marriage of Chinese architecture and Islamic characters. Symbols of good luck, turtles shaped of stone held up structures and provided resting places for weary feet. The prayer hall was cordoned off, but one could look in to see mats lined up one after another; the schedule hung by the door. It was peaceful. It was unlike anything I had seen before. And in the middle of that bustling city, I couldn't hear a car horn or a raised voice, just leaves rustling now and again.

We left there and steps away we found a flea market. Mont Blanc pens, North Face backpacks and Louis Vuitton bags were being offered at rock bottom prices. We didn't spend much time there, and instead made our way back to the hotel. We meandered, letting our noses guide us, and they didn't disappoint. We found some sticky buns filled with your choice of pork, potato, or greens. Ernesto also bought a pancake stuffed with egg, bacon and veggies--a Chinese breakfast gyro!--for us to share.

David came back for us promptly at 11.30 to whisk us to the airport. Once there, Ernie and Jeff said their goodbyes. Jeff was joining us in Shanghai for a few days before his vacation comes to an end.

By the time we boarded the plane I was ready to pass out, and did so promptly. I wasn't asleep long--according to Kendra--and however long it had been was long enough to get my energy back up. Before I knew it, we were ready for the descent into Shanghai. (I am so happy this is my last plane ride until the one that takes me home!)

Shanghai is China's New York. It's built on a river, and its population is about 16 million. Marlene had found us a place using Airbnb in the French Concession, a charming part of town, with tree-lined streets, small shops and boutiques, and low buildings. We met the owner. We are the first tenants, as they just finished building the apartment. We got our stuff settled (Kendra and I fully unpacked as we are here for a few days), and we took off for our next adventure!

We left the apartment and nearby found a Russian Orthodox Church (worth at least a mention as it was Holy Wednesday). It was closed, so I could only assume the Holy Unction service, my favorite of the year, was earlier in the day. We were in search for food, and Marlene had a place in mind. After declining a couple of offers of “Hasheesh?” we found the place. And it was closed due to the holiday. Curses, National Holiday! So Marlene took a moment and—as the GPS says—“recalculated our route” and off we went. We landed at a hipster noodle bar with a mix of locals and Westerners. My beverages (400 ml of Kirin and 250 ml of water) actually cost more than my food, roast pork rice. The price of food here is crazy low. We took off from there and headed for the Bund, which is the central part of town. It was a zoo of people. We came up from the subway and found ourselves in a pedestrian only version of Times Square. We headed for the promenade along the river, which meant battling our way through the crowd.

It was a sight to see. I can’t describe how massive it is. The buildings are enormous, and because of the river, there are actually vantage points from which to see them (unlike parts of New York where all you can do is look straight up). At the top of the tallest building that is still currently under construction, Shanghai Tower, Marlene spotted the lights from welders. It was just so massive. I was completely awestruck by what I saw around me. We took the Bund Tunnel tour to the other side (that was an experience) and were able to gaze at the city from a different vantage point. It was still awe inspiring.

We went home, after missing the last train, and having to take another one. We walked a bit father than we anticipated, but it sure was worth it.What a day!

More to come...

Terra Cotta Soldiers and Muslim Quarter

Last night I crashed. And I crashed very hard. I hit a wall at dinner, and I think Marlene caught the moment as she asked me if I was going to be ok. A little while and 450ml of Tsing Tao (the Budweiser of China) later, and I was ready. Aside from some knee pain that woke me a couple of times, I slept pretty soundly. It was what I needed to get me over the jet lag hump. I realized that the only time I was truly jet lagged was when I was well-rested before departure. This time, that was certainly not the case.

We got going about 9 this morning. We actually got a good cup of coffee at the coffee shop attached to the hotel, and then went to, where else?, but Dunkin Donuts for a quick snack. We passed on the Baskin Robbins that was in the same storefront. The sun came out--as did the thousands of people who are on holiday. We walked to a bus stop, boarded a double-decker, and went to the end of the line. On the bus' second level, I couldn't stand up straight (I was one of few who had this problem). The terminal was a mob scene. The national holiday on Wednesday May 1 (Labor Day) made for a very short work week for some, and that meant many others were interested in doing the same thing we were. As Ernie was leading us (he's a take charge kind of guy), we were hit up by a man. Long story short, Ernie had planned on us taking public transportation the whole way to see the Terra Cotta soldiers, and thankfully, negotiations were positive, and we ended up hiring David instead. David--a local--not only helped us get to the sites we wanted to see, but also was able to take us via a nice van, see a couple sites we probably wouldn't have otherwise, and made time for us to grab lunch at a local place he knew well.

The first site--about 90 minutes out of town, by air conditioned van and not by packed public bus, hooray David!--was full of small figurines that were discovered within the last 20 years. The reason it was found is that the government was building a new expressway, and it came across the ruins while digging. The expressway was rerouted to accommodate the find. The Hanyangling Museum is an underground museum that displays the finds of the Han Dynasty beneath your feet, still as part of the archaeological site. It includes many small figurines of men, women and interestingly enough eunuchs  There are also many types of animals featured, as well as ceramics and very small copper and bronze stamps with TEENY characters etched. They made so many figurines so that the Emperor would always enjoy prosperity. It was fun to see, and a nice warm up for what was to come. The highlight was the film that was provided, which included a set that rotated on a cylinder and holograms that moved and told the story. The narrator, an older man dressed in a bright blue western style suit, described the story of the dynasty, which included the tale of the Empress. Though she came off as a gold-digger, he urged us, "For those of you emotionally sympathetic to her, you can visit her tomb and pay respects." It was an odd turn of phrase.

We got in and out of the car a few times, and didn't mind because we weren't on a packed, public bus and it was sunny out. The second site wasn't eventful, as it was a collection of what was unearthed from the site we had just seen and simply put on display. We got back in the car, drove for a while, and David got us close to the Terra Cotta site. We stopped for lunch, and then walked through a market selling, what else?, Terra Cotta figurines.

The site of the Terra Cotta soldiers is massive. This archaeological find was discovered in 1974 by a farmer who was digging for water. You can still meet the farmer, as he sits in a pagoda surrounded by books he'll autograph once purchased. There are many souvenirs and huge photos that show him with dignitaries from the time. He's aged quite well.

By 1979 the government opened the site to the public. David suggested that we see the movie and then see he three pits in reverse order as they get better, pit 3, pit 2 and then finish with pit 1. Because we had gotten here late in the afternoon crowds had subsided significantly though there were still a lot of people. This is China after all. There's no English anywhere and the only map--we later discovered--is on the ticket stub taking up one square inch. We hit and missed a couple of times, stopped to ask a volunteer who recognized Marlene saying 'movie' in English rather than in Chinese, and found the cinema. In there we found a huge round room, with no seats, just bars against which to lean. We caught the tail end of the Chinese version, and the English version was next in the queue. There were eight screens surrounding us, giving us a 360 of the film. The film reels had a 70s feel to them. The movie described the tale of the Qin dynasty's beginnings, how the first emperor waged war with 6 countries to unify China. The claim was that this same emperor built the Great Wall. The story of the Terra Cotta soldiers is that these were to be part of his tomb. Each one is different, and they were all painted. They are life size, or bigger than life size as they are close to 6' tall. And there are thousands of them.

We moved from pit to pit, each one inspiring more awe than the one before. The site has not been totally unearthed, so there's no way of knowing how truly expansive it is. After seeing pit 3, Ernie and I had our photos taken with replicas. The people running it were not happy with how long we took...

Pit 1 is enclosed by a hangar (I'm hoping that gives you a sense of scale). The site of the farmer's well is marked, and you can see the rows and rows of the soldiers below. There are archers, officers, foot soldiers, generals and cavalry complete with horses. It is truly amazing to witness. But you've got to summon your 'inner Chinese' and jockey for a spot in front. We took our time with each and just enjoyed strolling around the site. When we finally got outside again, the crowds had diminished even further and we enjoyed the breeze as we went to our meeting spot. We and back through the plaza that sold the souvenirs. It was empty with few people, mostly sellers tying to get you to buy their replicas. One of us bought one set for 50Y, the second sold for 30Y and the last one, bought just because it was a deal, went for 10Y. They were all the same. 

We got back into town after 8. David dropped us off near the Muslim quarter. We slowly entered a part of town that was riddled with narrow, windy streets, smells of charcoal and various meats grilling over them, and the sounds of an outdoor bizarre: yelling back and forth, honks of mopeds cutting through pedestrians, and the loud hum of so many people collected in one small space. We turned down an even narrower street. Quail eggs, six to a skewer, sat in the open air, their bright orange yolks contrasting so well against the whites. Lamb and pork aplenty, with calamari too, was served up at a moment's notice. Nuts, nuts and more nuts, dates and dried fruit were abundant. Ladies, with their scarves framing their faces, smiled sweetly to encourage potential customers to approach. Men, with their covered heads, worked the grills and took a more vocal approach to entice. Every smell you can imagine--spices, meats, cigarette, and the occasional fragrant sweet--wafted above the densely populated streets. If you didn't move, you got pushed to, and if not, looked at. Bright lights illuminated the walk. Neon signs blinked overhead. Occasionally a traffic pattern would be disrupted by a moped or small, three-wheeled vehicle carrying as many passengers trying to get through. A tall, lanky man with dark hair, dark skin, and protruding teeth took a bite from a sweet bread, its crunch so loud it pierced through the hum. Empty skewers and paper cups littered the street on either side. Children with no diapers with slits in their pants clutched to their parents as they nimbly moved through the crowd.

It was lively. We stopped to eat pancakes made by a man surrounded by his sons and nephews. One boy would throw two flour pancakes (thin, round layers of some sort of bread), and he'd wet the circumference with water. He would top with meat or veggies, people pointed to what they wanted--all options were before the crowd under bright light. He'd fold the second cake over the first, sealing the edge all the way around. Into the fryer they went, where a second boy would cook them to perfection. When it was done, back to the first boy it went, who would cut it and serve. Kendra and I opted for a vegetarian version, while Jeff, Ernie and Mar split one with meat. They were crispy and delicious. Mar also ordered a bowl of dumplings and these handmade noodles that were about 3" wide and a few feet in length. They were prepared with meat, beans, veggies of all kinds, with a little hot sauce added in for kick. This being the Muslim quarter, beer was nowhere to be found, so we settled on sodas. All in all, that was 49Y or about $8 for 5 people. After dinner, Jeff peeled off to the hotel, and the four of us took our time. We strolled through town, enjoying the temperature and clear night. The pagodas on top of the wall were all lit up, and Kendra and Mar went off to capture them.

Though my legs tell me to stretch and rest, my reflection on the day reminds me what a great day it was. We got lucky with a great driver, we didn't get caught up in sightseeing traffic (which was crazy--the line for the return bus was 2 hours), we saw things that most people read about only if they know to, and we had this amazing cross-cultural experience. AND IT'S JUST DAY 2. Seriously: how lucky can I be?

More to come...