After getting a nice taste of Chengdu and Sichuan Province, I hopped on a very conveniently newly built express train from Chengdu to Chongqing City. Chongqing used to be a part of Sichuan until it was recently turned into a special municipality, governed directly by the central Chinese government, likely due to its important economic status in the southwest region of the country. Although it is described as another typical, glossy, modern Chinese city, I found it to be much more than that. Unlike most Chinese cities it was not built only according to Feng Shui aesthetics, which are surprisingly dull when it comes to urban planning. Chongqing was built on the comma-shaped, hilly peninsula that juts between where the Jialin and Yangtze Rivers merge. Thus, the physical environment made for a more ad-hoc planning process, creating many curvy, small streets and alleyways throughout the city, which are a delight to explore. Its very easy to get lost in the city, which can be a good thing sometimes. Every street is lined with tiny shops selling all sorts of snacks as well as throngs of people playing games like mahjong and Chinese chess and drinking tea. Despite the intensely modern character of the city, it still felt quite laid back to me.
I also enjoyed the city very much since I was able to meet with some locals who are friends of one of the Chinese girls I met in Seoul. They showed me another spicy hot pot, slightly different from the Sichuan variety, and took me all around the city at night. We actually ended up spending a couple of hours drinking tea in a teahouse and listening to a group play traditional Chinese music, which I just about fell in love with. The next day I intended to visit another Buddhist carving site (it seems I had become a bit addicted to these), which was a couple of hours outside the city. However, right from the get-go everything went wrong. First, I went to the wrong bus station and had to take a cab to the right one on the other city (although I’ll never really know if it was the right one). When I got there some guy approached me asking me where I was going. Usually, I ignore these people, but for some reason I told him I wanted to go to Dazu, the town where the carvings are located. Apparently my pronunciation wasn’t accurate enough for him, as he though he heard me say Dazhou (or at least didn’t care enough to find out exactly where it was I wanted to go). Dazhou, unfortunately, is not a beautiful town surrounded by mountains carved with Buddhist images. It is a huge industrial city in the complete opposite direction of Dazu, not even in Chongqing municipality. Quite unfortunately for me, I did not find this out until I got there. Essentially I spent the whole day (from 10am to 10pm) traveling to the wrong place and back. I guess these things have to happen sometime when traveling in a foreign country.
The next day I tried my best to put that all behind me by exploring the city, which included checking out the Three Gorges Museum with a Chinese woman also staying at the same hostel. The museum is somewhat of a tribute to all of the cultural and environmental loss incurred by the construction of the Three Gorges Dam. However, it was a nice precursor to my 4 day, 3 night cruise down the Yangtze River through the Three Gorges that I embarked on that night. Probably the best part of the cruise was just hanging out on a boat for three days. The first night was especially nice as we got to see the city lit up night, looking quite a bit like Hong Kong with all of the tall, lit-up buildings set against big hills. Once the boat got going down the river I just sat out on the front deck, drinking tea and reflecting on my travels so far as well as what the rest of my trip will be like.
The room that I was staying in was shared by 5 other Chinese, all of whom were great and really made the trip. We got along real well from the start and as they spoke little to no English, my Chinese improved rapidly throughout the trip. For the most part, the actual Three Gorges were not too impressive, as the increased water levels from the dam took away from their previous splendor. However, the lesser three gorges have been preserved a bit more since they lie on a tributary further away from the main river, and to some degree made up for what the bigger version was lacking (despite the name). The Three Gorges Dam has now become one of the touted highlights of the tour, but despite being the largest dam in the world, I wouldn’t say it in any way makes up for what has been lost.
After arriving in Wuhan at the end of the tour I intended to stay there for night, but made another one of my increasingly common impulsive decisions to take the train to Changsha where I had left my sunglasses at Xu’s family’s house. I arrived around 11pm and for some reason couldn’t find the hostel I wanted to stay at. So I ended up staying at comparatively more expensive hotel (at least in China), but which was worth it for all of the amenities after being on a Chinese boat for 4 days. After retrieving my sunglasses from Xu’s house (and getting taken out to another delicious meal by his mom) I noticed that my back was really killing me, presumably from carrying my big bag everywhere, so I went searching for a place to get a massage. Near my hotel I saw a number of people getting foot massages and thought I’d see if they gave back massages. For 20 yuan (about $3) I got the full treatment which included a back massage, foot soak, foot massage, and something similar to a pedicure. Besides the part where the masseuse was painfully pounding on my back, it was very enjoyable, relaxing, and helpful for my back. Soon after, I had to catch my night train to Guilin and since I had been spending a lot of money taking cabs all day I thought I’d take the bus to the train station. This turned out to be a terrible idea. Firstly, the bus took a wildly illogical route through the city with the train station as one of the last stops, and on top of that during the worst traffic hours of the day. At first I was wondering if I would have enough time to get a bite to eat before getting on the train, but soon I was wondering if I’d get on the train at all. After getting off the bus I was literally sprinting towards the gate with bags and sandals flopping all over the place. I soon found out it was to no avail as I had missed my train. I had to go exchange my ticket for a later train which had completely sold out of sleeper beds and I thought I was doomed for another night of standing. However, after getting on the train I was pleased to find out I could upgrade to a sleeper bed, all in all costing double the price I paid for the original ticket. However, I could care less after narrowly avoiding the terrible no-seat ticket.
Guilin and the Yangshuo area turned out to be as incredible as I had always heard. I had always wanted to go to Guilin for the weekend while studying abroad in Hong Kong since it’s only about 12 hours away, but for some reason I never made it. The area looks similar to Halong Bay in Vietnam and Vang Vieng in Laos, but much more dense and spectacular. Everywhere you look there are huge karst peaks jutting out of the ground, looking both strange and beautiful at the same time. I planned on taking a bus from Guilin to Yangshuo and then to Xingping, just outside of Yangshuo where my hostel was located and which is much quieter and relaxed than Yangshuo. However, as I was getting on the bus I got offered a good deal on a boat trip down the river about an hour upstream from Xingping. I hopped on the deal and was soon sitting on a bamboo raft (of course powered by a motor) with my big bag and everything, glasses on, and teeth still not brushed as it was not too long ago I had gotten off the train. I took off my shirt to get my first tan of the trip, leaned back on the boat (which I had all to myself), put my feet into the water and entered paradise as I watched the towering peaks pass me by. It was most definitely one of the highlights of the whole trip. Staying in Xingping was also quite nice. I met some great people at the hostel who I went around the area with, hiking and biking. There was a great little hike right next to the hostel which gave an incredible view of the town, the river, and the many hilly peaks. At sunset it was pure bliss. I also met some Chinese travelers in my hostel room who I went out to dinner with. Many restaurants in China have their fish outside in tanks or buckets allowing you to choose your dinner, but this was the first I had seen that also let you choose the chicken you wanted, which my new friends did without any hesitation. Thus I was able to see my dinner both alive and clucking as well as on my plate.
On the second day, I was biking with an English couple during the morning, but around midday the heat really got to them so they decided to head back while I wanted to continue on. A bit further down the road I stopped at a small shop on the side to buy some water. Right away the two women there (who I soon found out to be sisters) wanted to get to know me and invited me into their family’s house for lunch. I got to meet the whole family and had a delicious lunch with them. After lunch I went with one of the women on her motorbike around the area to see Yangshuo (as I still had not seen this area where most of the tourists stay) as well as some of the other beautiful scenery, like on of the peaks that looks remarkably like a woman praying. Then we went to the market to buy some food to cook for dinner and I made sure that I paid for it to try to give back in some way. That night we ate another wonderful meal and since it was already dark out, the father and the sister drove behind me while I biked home so that I could have some light from the motorbike to see where I was going and not get into an accidently. That day was definitely another highlight.
The next day I was sad to leave the area but had already bought my train ticket in advance and knew that my journey was coming to an end and that I had to be in Laos soon. In Kunming, which is the capital of Yunnan province just north of Laos, I was lucky to have a friend to stay with who I had met in Beijing. I didn’t do much touring of the city and area as I had little time and wanted to rest before the long journey to Vientiane, Laos. After a few days I boarded a 38 hour sleeper bus from Kunming to Vientiane, which surprisingly wasn’t too bad. Having a bed to sleep in definitely made it an improvement from some of the overnight buses I took in Laos last summer. It was definitely a bit strange returning to Laos after spending a month in China. I actually experienced a bit of a culture shock due to the vast difference in cultural attitudes between the two societies as well as the huge gap in development. However, after a few days in Vientiane I began to get used to Laos again, and even started to remember some of the language I had learned last summer.
Now I have been in Vientiane for about two weeks and have gotten quite settled in. I moved into a small apartment last week near the university. The location is for the most part ideal since I am near the university, a great market, temples, as well as my friends from last summer. The only disadvantage is that to get to the center of the city is about a 25 minute motorbike ride, but all in all that’s not a high price to pay for all of the other benefits. Also since I’m living outside the city a bit I live right next to a bunch of gardens and agricultural fields as well as a nice pond. I am in a small apartment building (only one story) surrounded by students so I always have company. I also bought a motorbike last week which has been very convenient for getting around quickly. I am still in the process of getting some sort of routine. Since my project is independent and therefore I have no set things to do every day, this can be a bit difficult at times. However, I am beginning to discipline myself to work hard on my research and Lao language during the day, relax at night, and do something fun on the weekends. I’ve already met a lot of great people and always have something fun to do on my free time. So far everything has been great and hopefully will continue to be.
Please do write to me at miles.kenney@gmail.com. I would love to hear from everyone.
Sincerely,
Miles
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Return to China, Pt. 1
Recently, the Great Firewall of China has become stronger than ever, partially due to the Tibetan and Uighur uprisings of the past few years. First, I was surprised to find facebook blocked (yet slightly relieved to have a cured for my addiction), but then I was even more appalled to learn that the site I use to post my travel blog had also been blocked. Blocking facebook seemed a bit extreme, yet I could still understand because the government’s motives since it is a useful tool for the organization of social movements, but blogger.com? I just didn’t get it. Perhaps it is because it is owned by google and China has had some beef with google for whatever reason. Anyways, that is the reason why I haven’t updated my blog for the last month or so. So, now get ready for a dumpload of traveling and adventures.
After I had said good-bye to my friends in Seoul, I embarked upon the return trip to China, again by the same ferry between Incheon, Korea and Tianjin, China. This time, however, I planned a bit more ahead, arriving at the ferry terminal with plenty of time to spare. While this ferry ride wasn’t as eventful as the previous one, there was still plenty to keep me entertained for 25 hours. Instead of meeting a wild Dutchman and a sweet Korean girl, I used my arms and legs to converse with an ajashi (middle-aged Korean woman) and spent the rest of the time getting to know a young couple from Texas who were finally on their journey of a lifetime and a Bulgarian of Turkish descent attaining his PhD from a university in Japan. As this ferry had departed in the evening rather than morning, we arrived in Tianjin the next night not quite knowing where we were going. Finally, after reviving my Chinese, which seemed to have gone into hibernation while in Korea, we were able to find our hostel and crash for the night. The next day we left for Beijing, leaving our Bulgarian chemist behind, who wanted to check out some of Tianjin’s beaches before attending his conference in Beijing.
In Beijing I parted ways with the Texans, as I had had enough of the city for one trip. That evening I hopped on a seven hour train, dropping me off in Datong at 1am, which was horrible timing on my part. While on the train I had read that Datong wasn’t too friendly of a city at night, which freaked me out a bit before arriving. However, this didn’t seem to be much of the case at all as long as I tried to hold onto a tough attitude, if not appearance. I didn’t have much of an idea of where I would stay, mostly because I lacked confidence in my 2001 guidebook, yet this mattered little as a number of women haggled me to stay at their hotels. After determining the cheapest option I finally caught some sleep, not knowing until the next day that it was indeed the place I had read of in the guidebook (although I didn’t get the rated I wanted until the next day as well). Datong is located to the northwest of Beijing and in itself is a terrible city. Since the surrounding area is quite arid, it has never had a strong agricultural base, only now finding productive activity in its large coal reserves. This has in turn led it to become one of the dirtiest and most polluted cities of China. There is construction occurring literally everywhere. At the end of a day on Datong you are completely covered in filth. In your mouth you can even taste and feel the dirt on your tongue and teeth. When you shower at night (since doing so in the morning is pointless), the water flowing off of your body and down the drain is distinctively brown.
However, despite all of these down points, Datong is a great place from which to see two of the best sites in China, both located not far outside of the city. The first is the Yungang Caves, one of the earliest examples of Buddhist cave art in China, created not long after Buddhism was imported to China from India. The caves were created around the 5th and 6th centuries AD by the Northern Wei dynasty, before their capital shifted to Luoyang of Henan province. At the site there are probably hundreds of caves, many of which are very small, but some of which are just huge. They house an incredible amount of Buddhist sculptures, all of which have been carved out of the Cliffside and for the most part, well preserved. I was amazed by both the size and detail so many of the statues contained. It was most surely a great sight to start off my return trip to China.
That night I was fortunate enough to meet some very beatnick Irish art students after switching to a dorm bed in the hotel. They had just finished teaching English in Guangdong Province for the summer and were also very impressed by the fine artistry of the caves. The n ext day we ventured together to the second great site of the Datong area, the Hanging Temple. To me, this is still one of the top sights of China, which makes me wonder why some guidebooks (rhyming w/ Clonely Janet) give it such a low rating. Originally the temple was built on the banks of a river in a deep valley with cliffs on both sides. However, due to frequent flooding, the monks decided that instead of moving the temple to another area they would move it up. Using an ingenious system of beams and stilts protruding from the Cliffside they built one of the most creative (and dangerous!) temples I have ever seen. As you meander carefully through the tiny passageways, you can’t help but wonder how it has survived all these years without smashing into the river below.
The next day I left Datong for the clean air of Wutai Shan, a national preservation area (meaning it has an insanely high entrance fee), famous for its immense number of Buddhist temples and beautiful alpine scenery covering its five huge peaks. I spent the first afternoon exploring some of the many temples, which besides being littered with tourists were some of the most peaceful, as well as aesthetically pleasing I had and still have visited in China. The best part of the temples is that they aren’t just relics of the past, but are still actively in use by monks and nuns, which is a bit rare for China. As you stroll through the grounds you can’t help but rubbing elbows with them. They often wanted to know my nationality (as is inevitably the first question received while in China) and upon finding out I’m American were for some reason very happy. Some of the monks I talked to were Tibetan, marked by their maroon robes with yellow sashes, who surprisingly started talking rapidly about the Dalai Llama, and presumably how they liked that he is welcomed and honored in the US. At night, the town was considerably sleepy, since its only real function is as a place for tourists to stay. However, on the main drag there were a number of shops playing beautiful Tibetan religious music as well as selling associated religious items, many of which I would have bought if I didn’t have to lug them around for the coming month.
I planned on doing somewhat of a large hike, at least part way up the northernmost peak, the next day, yet it kind of failed due to the poor weather and my lack of planning. Despite not making any significant ascents, I spent most of the day trekking through the hills on what I had at first thought were hiking trails, but later found out to be paths for farmers’ cattle (which I figured out by the many cow patties I almost stepped in). Nevertheless, I had a nice wandering with equally as nice scenery to accompany. I returned to the town in the mid-afternoon with enough time for another pseudo-hike up 1,000 steps to a temple overlooking the valley within which the main town lies. The next day I caught a bus to Pingyao, which is also of Shanxi Province, located about four hours southwest. On the bus I happened to sit next to a very animated old monk, who taught me how to crack walnuts with my hands and tried to tell me many things about Buddhism, which I didn’t understand due to the language barrier.
Like most Chinese cities, Pingyao has a long history. Unlike other cities, however, it has unintentionally resisted modernization by lacking any productive activity that is useful in the 20th century, that is until now, as a tourist center. Its appeal lies in that within the city walls it looks much like it would during the Ming dynasty of the 15th and 16th centuries. All of the buildings are of that era’s architectural style and throughout much of the old city no vehicles are allowed, giving it a laid-back and historic atmosphere. It looks like what most people imagine a Chinese city to look like before coming to China. While Pingyao is certainly a great city to hang out in, most of the sites can be seen in a day and a half so I didn’t feel the need to linger long. Yet one of the most amazing sites was on which was yet again not highly esteemed in the guidebooks, and which I really only visited on a whim. This was Shuanglin Si, another Buddhist temple, but this time it was derelict in such a way that I was creeped out by the atmosphere and the many statues, for which it is known. Perhaps it was due to the combination of the absence of visitors that day and the misty weather. More significant, however, was the state of the statues, which still gives me the shivers to think about. None had received any restoration work, and were all the more powerful for that. There was one room in particular that made me shudder, yet in a childish and giddy way. It was an exciting type of fear, which I wanted to both cultivate and face by staying in the room and staring at the sculptures for as long as possible. The faces of the statues were crumbling in such a way that it looked as if each one was staring me down as I walked about the room. I half expected them to be moving behind my back and then remaining still each time I turned back to look at them. After taking a photon of one I looked back at it and noticed a red sashel around its neck, which I hadn’t seen before. Freaked out, I quickly turned my camera on and was assured to see that the sashel was also in the picture. Upon returning to the city I was left with a lofty feeling that remained with me for the rest of the day.
In order to save both time and money I decided to take an overnight train to my next destination instead of spending another night in Pingyao. As per my usual mode of traveling, I arranged this with little to no planning. Instead of booking a sleeper bed ticket earlier in the day I decided it would be best to wing it and buy my ticket upon arrival at the train station. While I knew that there probably wouldn’t be any beds available I had heard of the possibility of buying a seated ticket and upgrading to a bed when on the train. What I hadn’t accounted for was all of the seated tickets being sold out as well. I had to resort to buying a type of ticket that is unique to China, as far as I know (perhaps India also). It is known as the no-seat or standing ticket, one of the cheapest, but certainly most uncomfortable, ways to travel in China. Still, I somehow had great hope in my ability to upgrade my ticket. However, I soon learned that this hope was founded upon false grounds. Not only were there no sleeper beds available to upgrade to, but no seats as well. It seemed that I was doomed to stand for 10 hours. Fortunately, for the first 25 hours (1am-3:30am) the occupants of the seats had yet to board and I was able to have a short, but critically important nap. I was soon awoken by the person whose seat I was sleeping in, but once again I was lucky enough to have the people in that sweat squish over allowing me to place half a cheek down. Yet this soon became less comfortable than standing, so I resumed my previous upright position for the next few hours. Sometime in the early morning, soon after the sun had risen, a box that someone had been sitting on in the aisle became free and I once again had a place to sit, which I traded off with other from time to time. Somehow I got through it all, arriving in Luoyang of Henan Province at 11am. However, this was not before I experienced one of the strangest sights I’ve ever seen in China, and most certainly on a train ride. At about 9 or 10am I was alarmed to see a man whose arms ended about halfway between his shoulders and elbows, standing on a seat above the crowd yelling something in Chinese to everyone. Although what he was yelling was incomprehensible to me, it seemed as if he was blaming everyone for the loss of his arms, or at least trying to make them feel guilty for having what he did not. He followed this by running through the aisle continuing to yell while pointing his stubs at various passengers. After he had finished with this, a midget (I’m sorry if this is not the politically correct word, I’m not quite sure what is, so please do tell me if you know) joined him. As they shoved their way through the aisle, the midget was holding a wad of cash, also yelling and pointing at everyone he passed, as well as soliciting money from them, presumably as society’s compensation for their physical disadvantage. As the midget came up to some guy near me, that guy tried his best to ignore the midget’s request. Upon seeing this, the midget slapped that guy’s hand with the wad of cash prompting him to give up a 1 yuan note. Somehow I was reminded of bandits, con artists, and railroads of the American Wild West.
After arriving in Luoyang I could not believe how incredibly horrendous my clothes reeked. They smelled like a horrible combination of multiple types of smoke, sweat, and urine. Anyhow, I was absolutely exhausted having gotten hardly any sleep the night before (and therefore negating the whole purpose of the overnight train). Once I had checked into the hostel, which was really a hotel that put a bunch of beds into one of the rooms to attract backpackers, I passed out for a few hours.
The next day I set out for a the Longmen caves, which are as, if not more, brilliant as the Yungang Caves. In fact, they are somewhat of a continuation of the Yungang Caves after the Northern Wei moved their capital here from Datong, making the artistic progression between the two sites quite interesting. The most obvious difference was size. The most spectacular statues of Buddha and his attending bodhisattvas just tower above you. Despite the continuously crappy weather, it was an awe-inspiring sight.
After exhausting the only reason I had to visit Luoyang I took an overnight train to Xi’an. This time, however, I learned from my previous mistake and booked a sleeper bed ahead of time, resulting in a very comfortable and enjoyable ride. In Xi’an, I was lucky enough to have an old friend, Charlie, who had stayed at our house 9 years ago on an exchange trip. Charlie and his wife were extremely hospitable to me, which was a huge relief after a previously tough bout of traveling. Not only did he pick me up from the train station, host me in his house, and treat me to delicious Xi’an style food, he went out of his way to drive me to the famous Terracotta Warriors outside town, waited for 2 hours while I walked around, and drove me back. I was truly grateful.
The warriors themselves, were surprisingly unimpressive to me. Perhaps it is partly because they’re built up to be one of the greatest sights in China, if not the world, and partly because of the insane amount of tourists. Either way I found the story behind them and their historical significance, as well as the continuing archaeological excavation, to be much more interesting than the sight itself. Only about 1/8th of the warriors have been excavated, so perhaps once it is complete it will be the impressive sight it is made out to be. Fortunately, Xi’an is a nice city, especially the intimate market streets of the Muslim quarter, where Xi’an’s Hui minority (Chinese Muslims) live. The area houses China’s largest mosque, which is an incredible mix of Chinese and middle eastern architecture, design, and artwork. There is also an incredible variety of snacks and deserts in the area which are much different from the typical Chinese choices. I also spent a great deal of my time in Xi’an relaxing, re-charging my batteries, studying Chinese, and just reading, all of which helped me gear up for the next leg of my journey, starting in Chengdu, Sichuan province.
Sichuan has always called to my imagination, largely because of its intensely spicy and unique cuisine as well as its mountainous topography, located at the edge of China proper, bordering Tibetan and Turkic regions. The capital, Chengdu, is one of the more laid back capitals of China. Despite looking like another huge, modern Chinese metropolis at first glance, it is still very distinct with pockets of old town areas, small streets, and a lively culture of teahouses, mahjong, and Sichuan opera. I was fortunate to make some Chinese friends here through a connection of Charlie’s. They showed me around the city as well as taking me to eat some of Sichuan’s famous food, most notably the super spicy hot pot. They also helped me add a few new dishes to my ‘weird foods I’ve eaten in Asia’ list. These include pig’s feet (supposedly good for the skin) and duck’s tongue, both of which were actually quite tasty. They were also kind enough to treat me to Sichuan opera, apparently quite different from the Beijing variety (which I have yet to see). In Sichuan, I also had the chance to see two of china’s most famed sights. One was the giant pandas and their cute cubs at the Giant Panda Breeding Research Center. The other was the Giant Buddha, the world’s largest carved Buddha, standing at 71m tall, originally intended to protect fisherman from the rough waters it looks over. After spending a few days there, Chengdu has definitely made it onto my short list of places in China I might like to live, along with Xi’an and Kunming.
Since there is quite a bit more to tell I'll save the rest for the next post. Hope you've enjoyed - Miles
After I had said good-bye to my friends in Seoul, I embarked upon the return trip to China, again by the same ferry between Incheon, Korea and Tianjin, China. This time, however, I planned a bit more ahead, arriving at the ferry terminal with plenty of time to spare. While this ferry ride wasn’t as eventful as the previous one, there was still plenty to keep me entertained for 25 hours. Instead of meeting a wild Dutchman and a sweet Korean girl, I used my arms and legs to converse with an ajashi (middle-aged Korean woman) and spent the rest of the time getting to know a young couple from Texas who were finally on their journey of a lifetime and a Bulgarian of Turkish descent attaining his PhD from a university in Japan. As this ferry had departed in the evening rather than morning, we arrived in Tianjin the next night not quite knowing where we were going. Finally, after reviving my Chinese, which seemed to have gone into hibernation while in Korea, we were able to find our hostel and crash for the night. The next day we left for Beijing, leaving our Bulgarian chemist behind, who wanted to check out some of Tianjin’s beaches before attending his conference in Beijing.
In Beijing I parted ways with the Texans, as I had had enough of the city for one trip. That evening I hopped on a seven hour train, dropping me off in Datong at 1am, which was horrible timing on my part. While on the train I had read that Datong wasn’t too friendly of a city at night, which freaked me out a bit before arriving. However, this didn’t seem to be much of the case at all as long as I tried to hold onto a tough attitude, if not appearance. I didn’t have much of an idea of where I would stay, mostly because I lacked confidence in my 2001 guidebook, yet this mattered little as a number of women haggled me to stay at their hotels. After determining the cheapest option I finally caught some sleep, not knowing until the next day that it was indeed the place I had read of in the guidebook (although I didn’t get the rated I wanted until the next day as well). Datong is located to the northwest of Beijing and in itself is a terrible city. Since the surrounding area is quite arid, it has never had a strong agricultural base, only now finding productive activity in its large coal reserves. This has in turn led it to become one of the dirtiest and most polluted cities of China. There is construction occurring literally everywhere. At the end of a day on Datong you are completely covered in filth. In your mouth you can even taste and feel the dirt on your tongue and teeth. When you shower at night (since doing so in the morning is pointless), the water flowing off of your body and down the drain is distinctively brown.
However, despite all of these down points, Datong is a great place from which to see two of the best sites in China, both located not far outside of the city. The first is the Yungang Caves, one of the earliest examples of Buddhist cave art in China, created not long after Buddhism was imported to China from India. The caves were created around the 5th and 6th centuries AD by the Northern Wei dynasty, before their capital shifted to Luoyang of Henan province. At the site there are probably hundreds of caves, many of which are very small, but some of which are just huge. They house an incredible amount of Buddhist sculptures, all of which have been carved out of the Cliffside and for the most part, well preserved. I was amazed by both the size and detail so many of the statues contained. It was most surely a great sight to start off my return trip to China.
That night I was fortunate enough to meet some very beatnick Irish art students after switching to a dorm bed in the hotel. They had just finished teaching English in Guangdong Province for the summer and were also very impressed by the fine artistry of the caves. The n ext day we ventured together to the second great site of the Datong area, the Hanging Temple. To me, this is still one of the top sights of China, which makes me wonder why some guidebooks (rhyming w/ Clonely Janet) give it such a low rating. Originally the temple was built on the banks of a river in a deep valley with cliffs on both sides. However, due to frequent flooding, the monks decided that instead of moving the temple to another area they would move it up. Using an ingenious system of beams and stilts protruding from the Cliffside they built one of the most creative (and dangerous!) temples I have ever seen. As you meander carefully through the tiny passageways, you can’t help but wonder how it has survived all these years without smashing into the river below.
The next day I left Datong for the clean air of Wutai Shan, a national preservation area (meaning it has an insanely high entrance fee), famous for its immense number of Buddhist temples and beautiful alpine scenery covering its five huge peaks. I spent the first afternoon exploring some of the many temples, which besides being littered with tourists were some of the most peaceful, as well as aesthetically pleasing I had and still have visited in China. The best part of the temples is that they aren’t just relics of the past, but are still actively in use by monks and nuns, which is a bit rare for China. As you stroll through the grounds you can’t help but rubbing elbows with them. They often wanted to know my nationality (as is inevitably the first question received while in China) and upon finding out I’m American were for some reason very happy. Some of the monks I talked to were Tibetan, marked by their maroon robes with yellow sashes, who surprisingly started talking rapidly about the Dalai Llama, and presumably how they liked that he is welcomed and honored in the US. At night, the town was considerably sleepy, since its only real function is as a place for tourists to stay. However, on the main drag there were a number of shops playing beautiful Tibetan religious music as well as selling associated religious items, many of which I would have bought if I didn’t have to lug them around for the coming month.
I planned on doing somewhat of a large hike, at least part way up the northernmost peak, the next day, yet it kind of failed due to the poor weather and my lack of planning. Despite not making any significant ascents, I spent most of the day trekking through the hills on what I had at first thought were hiking trails, but later found out to be paths for farmers’ cattle (which I figured out by the many cow patties I almost stepped in). Nevertheless, I had a nice wandering with equally as nice scenery to accompany. I returned to the town in the mid-afternoon with enough time for another pseudo-hike up 1,000 steps to a temple overlooking the valley within which the main town lies. The next day I caught a bus to Pingyao, which is also of Shanxi Province, located about four hours southwest. On the bus I happened to sit next to a very animated old monk, who taught me how to crack walnuts with my hands and tried to tell me many things about Buddhism, which I didn’t understand due to the language barrier.
Like most Chinese cities, Pingyao has a long history. Unlike other cities, however, it has unintentionally resisted modernization by lacking any productive activity that is useful in the 20th century, that is until now, as a tourist center. Its appeal lies in that within the city walls it looks much like it would during the Ming dynasty of the 15th and 16th centuries. All of the buildings are of that era’s architectural style and throughout much of the old city no vehicles are allowed, giving it a laid-back and historic atmosphere. It looks like what most people imagine a Chinese city to look like before coming to China. While Pingyao is certainly a great city to hang out in, most of the sites can be seen in a day and a half so I didn’t feel the need to linger long. Yet one of the most amazing sites was on which was yet again not highly esteemed in the guidebooks, and which I really only visited on a whim. This was Shuanglin Si, another Buddhist temple, but this time it was derelict in such a way that I was creeped out by the atmosphere and the many statues, for which it is known. Perhaps it was due to the combination of the absence of visitors that day and the misty weather. More significant, however, was the state of the statues, which still gives me the shivers to think about. None had received any restoration work, and were all the more powerful for that. There was one room in particular that made me shudder, yet in a childish and giddy way. It was an exciting type of fear, which I wanted to both cultivate and face by staying in the room and staring at the sculptures for as long as possible. The faces of the statues were crumbling in such a way that it looked as if each one was staring me down as I walked about the room. I half expected them to be moving behind my back and then remaining still each time I turned back to look at them. After taking a photon of one I looked back at it and noticed a red sashel around its neck, which I hadn’t seen before. Freaked out, I quickly turned my camera on and was assured to see that the sashel was also in the picture. Upon returning to the city I was left with a lofty feeling that remained with me for the rest of the day.
In order to save both time and money I decided to take an overnight train to my next destination instead of spending another night in Pingyao. As per my usual mode of traveling, I arranged this with little to no planning. Instead of booking a sleeper bed ticket earlier in the day I decided it would be best to wing it and buy my ticket upon arrival at the train station. While I knew that there probably wouldn’t be any beds available I had heard of the possibility of buying a seated ticket and upgrading to a bed when on the train. What I hadn’t accounted for was all of the seated tickets being sold out as well. I had to resort to buying a type of ticket that is unique to China, as far as I know (perhaps India also). It is known as the no-seat or standing ticket, one of the cheapest, but certainly most uncomfortable, ways to travel in China. Still, I somehow had great hope in my ability to upgrade my ticket. However, I soon learned that this hope was founded upon false grounds. Not only were there no sleeper beds available to upgrade to, but no seats as well. It seemed that I was doomed to stand for 10 hours. Fortunately, for the first 25 hours (1am-3:30am) the occupants of the seats had yet to board and I was able to have a short, but critically important nap. I was soon awoken by the person whose seat I was sleeping in, but once again I was lucky enough to have the people in that sweat squish over allowing me to place half a cheek down. Yet this soon became less comfortable than standing, so I resumed my previous upright position for the next few hours. Sometime in the early morning, soon after the sun had risen, a box that someone had been sitting on in the aisle became free and I once again had a place to sit, which I traded off with other from time to time. Somehow I got through it all, arriving in Luoyang of Henan Province at 11am. However, this was not before I experienced one of the strangest sights I’ve ever seen in China, and most certainly on a train ride. At about 9 or 10am I was alarmed to see a man whose arms ended about halfway between his shoulders and elbows, standing on a seat above the crowd yelling something in Chinese to everyone. Although what he was yelling was incomprehensible to me, it seemed as if he was blaming everyone for the loss of his arms, or at least trying to make them feel guilty for having what he did not. He followed this by running through the aisle continuing to yell while pointing his stubs at various passengers. After he had finished with this, a midget (I’m sorry if this is not the politically correct word, I’m not quite sure what is, so please do tell me if you know) joined him. As they shoved their way through the aisle, the midget was holding a wad of cash, also yelling and pointing at everyone he passed, as well as soliciting money from them, presumably as society’s compensation for their physical disadvantage. As the midget came up to some guy near me, that guy tried his best to ignore the midget’s request. Upon seeing this, the midget slapped that guy’s hand with the wad of cash prompting him to give up a 1 yuan note. Somehow I was reminded of bandits, con artists, and railroads of the American Wild West.
After arriving in Luoyang I could not believe how incredibly horrendous my clothes reeked. They smelled like a horrible combination of multiple types of smoke, sweat, and urine. Anyhow, I was absolutely exhausted having gotten hardly any sleep the night before (and therefore negating the whole purpose of the overnight train). Once I had checked into the hostel, which was really a hotel that put a bunch of beds into one of the rooms to attract backpackers, I passed out for a few hours.
The next day I set out for a the Longmen caves, which are as, if not more, brilliant as the Yungang Caves. In fact, they are somewhat of a continuation of the Yungang Caves after the Northern Wei moved their capital here from Datong, making the artistic progression between the two sites quite interesting. The most obvious difference was size. The most spectacular statues of Buddha and his attending bodhisattvas just tower above you. Despite the continuously crappy weather, it was an awe-inspiring sight.
After exhausting the only reason I had to visit Luoyang I took an overnight train to Xi’an. This time, however, I learned from my previous mistake and booked a sleeper bed ahead of time, resulting in a very comfortable and enjoyable ride. In Xi’an, I was lucky enough to have an old friend, Charlie, who had stayed at our house 9 years ago on an exchange trip. Charlie and his wife were extremely hospitable to me, which was a huge relief after a previously tough bout of traveling. Not only did he pick me up from the train station, host me in his house, and treat me to delicious Xi’an style food, he went out of his way to drive me to the famous Terracotta Warriors outside town, waited for 2 hours while I walked around, and drove me back. I was truly grateful.
The warriors themselves, were surprisingly unimpressive to me. Perhaps it is partly because they’re built up to be one of the greatest sights in China, if not the world, and partly because of the insane amount of tourists. Either way I found the story behind them and their historical significance, as well as the continuing archaeological excavation, to be much more interesting than the sight itself. Only about 1/8th of the warriors have been excavated, so perhaps once it is complete it will be the impressive sight it is made out to be. Fortunately, Xi’an is a nice city, especially the intimate market streets of the Muslim quarter, where Xi’an’s Hui minority (Chinese Muslims) live. The area houses China’s largest mosque, which is an incredible mix of Chinese and middle eastern architecture, design, and artwork. There is also an incredible variety of snacks and deserts in the area which are much different from the typical Chinese choices. I also spent a great deal of my time in Xi’an relaxing, re-charging my batteries, studying Chinese, and just reading, all of which helped me gear up for the next leg of my journey, starting in Chengdu, Sichuan province.
Sichuan has always called to my imagination, largely because of its intensely spicy and unique cuisine as well as its mountainous topography, located at the edge of China proper, bordering Tibetan and Turkic regions. The capital, Chengdu, is one of the more laid back capitals of China. Despite looking like another huge, modern Chinese metropolis at first glance, it is still very distinct with pockets of old town areas, small streets, and a lively culture of teahouses, mahjong, and Sichuan opera. I was fortunate to make some Chinese friends here through a connection of Charlie’s. They showed me around the city as well as taking me to eat some of Sichuan’s famous food, most notably the super spicy hot pot. They also helped me add a few new dishes to my ‘weird foods I’ve eaten in Asia’ list. These include pig’s feet (supposedly good for the skin) and duck’s tongue, both of which were actually quite tasty. They were also kind enough to treat me to Sichuan opera, apparently quite different from the Beijing variety (which I have yet to see). In Sichuan, I also had the chance to see two of china’s most famed sights. One was the giant pandas and their cute cubs at the Giant Panda Breeding Research Center. The other was the Giant Buddha, the world’s largest carved Buddha, standing at 71m tall, originally intended to protect fisherman from the rough waters it looks over. After spending a few days there, Chengdu has definitely made it onto my short list of places in China I might like to live, along with Xi’an and Kunming.
Since there is quite a bit more to tell I'll save the rest for the next post. Hope you've enjoyed - Miles
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