Monday, July 14, 2008

China, part 1: tandem bikes, flying fish, and neon

If there is one destination on my trip that I could call the focal point, it would be China. My journey wouldn't have been complete without it.

Ever since I spent a semester in Mongolia in 2004, I've been drawn to China. Mongolians are terrified of their neighbor, convinced that the Chinese are set on devouring Mongolia's land and natural resources while sending them, in exchange, products that always seem to break on them. "The Chinese are trying to poison us," one nomadic herder told me. While I wasn't convinced, in Mongolia it was impossible to be unaware of China's immense influence on its neighbors, and the world. News stories related to China investing in Latin America, China gobbling up the world's steel, and China developing cities the size of London in less than a decade appeared almost daily on BBC News. But in spite of all the news coverage, I think China is a very mysterious country, with very few people outside its borders who really understand it. While living in Mongolia, I became very conscious of and curious about the giant that rested on the other side of the border. But rather than being afraid of China's rising power, I was fascinated by it.

When I began planning this trip soon after my college graduation, I initially considered focusing most--if not all--of my six months on China. I considered enrolling in a language school, living with a host family, and even attempting to live with Tibetan monks and herders as I did in Mongolia. I wanted some depth to my understanding of China. After all, as someone whose professional and personal interests lie at the intersection of human rights, economic development, and international business, I was sure this would not be my last interaction with the country.

And so, when it was time for me to leave Hanoi and board a bus for Guilin, I felt a strange excitement that I was not about to simply see a new country, but that I was about to begin a relationship with a country that will likely be present in many facets of my life.

I spent about six weeks in China, far less than the six months I had daydreamed about, but more than the one month I had ended up budgeting for the trip. It's probably a good idea to provide an overview of where I went, since place names can become very confusing. This map shows my route from Hanoi to Beijing (all travel by land) in red:



To give a very dizzying overview of what the map shows: I took a bus from Hanoi, Vietnam, through Nanning, China, and into Guilin. In Guilin, I met up with a friend from college, Fang, who was also traveling. From Guilin, we visited the beautiful green karst hills in Yangshuo and Xingping. From there, we continued northwest to the vast rice terraces of Longsheng and Ping An. After that, we stopped by a few ethnic minority villages, including Zhaoxing, Basha, and Xijiang. We spent a couple days in the city of Guiyang before traveling to Chongqing. In Chongqing, we boarded a boat and traveled east for three days, through the Three Gorges, to Yichang. From Yichang we took a bus to Wuhan. From Wuhan, Fang went to Beijing, and I traveled to Jiujiang, where I lived with a family. Actually, I lived with Dina's family--after Dina and I traveled around Uganda and Tanzania together, she put me in touch with them. After a week in Jiujiang, I lived with other members of Dina's family in a smaller "village" named Xiushui. From Xiushui I traveled to Nanchang, then took a train to Shanghai. From Shanghai I traveled by train to Xi'an, and from Xi'an to Beijing.

I'm planning to split these updates into segments, rather than attempting to include photos and thoughts from my entire time in China in one enormous post. This first post will cover my time in Guilin, Yangshuo, and Xingping:



So, after spending several hours on my bus, I arrived in the surprisingly modern city of Guilin. At least, as the first Chinese city I had seen (almost 1.5 million people live there), it seemed surprisingly modern. Actually, I would soon learn that this city of neon billboards and skyscrapers wasn't especially modern compared to other Chinese cities. But one thing it did have was beautiful scenery, including rolling green hills and a slow river. To get to the really beautiful scenery, though, Fang and I traveled to Yangshuo and the nearby town of Xingping.

Xingping is a small town surrounded by green hills that peek down into the town's narrow, winding streets. The view from one of the streets:



In Xingping, Fang and I boarded a small wooden raft on the beautiful, serene Li River. This area is characterized by the lush, rolling karst hills that are so often associated with China's landscapes. (By the way, don't worry...I cut off the facial hair).



It was good to know that I wasn't the only one who stood out as a tourist:



The view of Xingping from a nearby mountain:



Yangshuo, located a short drive from Xingping, serves as a hub for those traveling around the area. As a result, it is filled with small tourist shops, international restaurants (and KFC!), and lots of neon signs. This woman is working in a silk shop:



Yangshuo's neon:





On our second day in Yangshuo, Fang and I decided to push the limits. So we put on our ponchos and rented a tandem bike (Fang is more excited than I was):



Along the way, we saw a guy who was "herding" ducks. Seriously.



Beautiful scenes and lots of mud made frequent stops a necessity:













After the bike ride, we had worked up quite an appetite. So we went out for the local specialty, snails:



They're actually really good--a little spicy, a little juicy, really tasty.

This man was advertising grass sculptures he makes:



One thing that became very clear over the course of my travels is the influence "Lonely Planet" travel guides have on many local economies. A negative review in the guide can destroy a shop or restaurant, while a good review can spell prosperity (and hour-long lines) for one. The owner of this restaurant gets the point:



I was walking down the street, enjoying the shops and activity, when I saw a guy reach into a fish tank, pull a fish out, and slam it against the ground. After the thing flew four feet in the air, the guy picked it up, walked into a nearby restaurant, and handed it to a cook who started cooking it. I waited for three more people to order the fish plate before I finally (somewhat unsuccessfully) got a picture of it:



Check back soon for part 2, the "Dragon's Backbone" rice terraces.

No comments: