The People’s Republic of China

August 21- October 21, 2003

When we were travelling through Asia and would meet people who had been travelling in India, we would ask, “So, how was it?” A simple enough question, right? Well, the answer most likely would take about 5 minutes to fully articulate itself, would contradict itself numerous times (‘I hated every minute, but now that I’m not there, I think I really liked it’), and would generally leave us totally confused.

Well, after spending 2 months traveling through China, we think we know what they meant. In almost every respect, our time in China was much more difficult and challenging than we ever imagined it to be. If every country was as physically and mentally draining as China, we would have been home in time for Thanksgiving. But now, looking back on it, we can actually say that it was a wonderful journey, full of extraordinary and sometimes totally surreal experiences, and gave us incredible insight into the people and culture of the world’s most populous country.

There were a lot of highlights of our time in China- the Great Wall, the Buddha caves at Datong, the backpacker mecca of Yangshuo, and the entirety of Yunnan Province- and that is what we would like to remember when we reflect on our two months there. But, it would be misrepresentative and inaccurate for us to not recall the smoking, the overcrowding, the MSG, the trash, and, of course, the spitting. Remembering those things now helps us keep perspective on our experiences and maintains balance in our recollections of China.

We travelled the whole country using only buses and trains (excluding the plane we took to get into Tibet, which we often think of as a separate country), of which we definitely preferred the trains. Overnight ones were the best, as they were clean and often had many curious Chinese nearby to occupy us for a while. However, by taking these overnight trains, we did often miss out on seeing the passing scenery, some of which we were told was spectacular. For most of the journeys, you would speed through unending rural China, a part of the country that not many foreigners get to see. There would be huge cities of millions upon millions of people at each end of the line, like bookends. And for our first 3 weeks, it was to only those main cities that we went.

We entered China from the north, by way of Mongolia on the Trans-Mongolian Railway. At the border, the most amazing thing happened. While in the no-man’s land between the two borders, the train went into what looked like an airplane hanger. There, we watched from our windows as our train was literally lifted off the ground by at least 4 feet, so that new tracks could be put on. As we came to learn, the Soviet Union (including the satellite republic of Mongolia) used a wider train track that the rest of the world. The purpose, we were told, was to prevent an invasion of the Soviet Union by train (China being the only country able to do so from the southeast). Regardless of its actual purpose, we were amazed that the entire process, including having our passports checked and the train searched, took less than half the time it took to cross from Russia into Mongolia, where the tracks are the same width.

Our first stop in China was the “small town” of Datong, population 2.3 million, almost more than the entire nation of Mongolia. Our main reason for stopping here was to see the Buddhist cave carvings just 18 kilometers outside the city. After getting off the train, we checked our map in our guidebook and judged that the hostel we wanted was somewhat close by, so we started walking through the bustling morning streets of Datong. To say that people were staring at us is beyond understatement. They were literally stunned; gawking at our presence, they called their friends and family to share in this bizarre moment as two foreigners walked down the street with enormous packs on their backs. One old gentleman was sitting on the sidewalk in a beat up folding chair staring at us in disbelief, so when Andy greeted him with the polite Chinese salutation (literally) his jaw dropped wide open with no reply.

After walking for 45 minutes and seemingly no closer to this elusive hostel, we broke down and sprang for a cab. The cab driver wanted to practice his English, even though Andy wanted to start practicing his Chinese. Within minutes he told us that he wanted to take us out for dinner that night. Although NikiAnne was ecstatic about the offer, she nonchalantly said ‘okay.’ He said he’d pick us up at our hostel at 8:00 pm that evening.

Meanwhile, we made our way out to the ‘Cloud Ridge Buddha Caves’ as they are known, and the ride there almost ended up being as interesting as the caves themselves. Public transport was always our first choice; the tourist buses were always more expensive and the foreigners were never as entertaining as the locals. After locating the public bus going in the direction we wanted it cruised around the streets for 1 hour looking for more people to fill the already full minibus. However, before we could get away from the curb at one of the “stops,” a young policeman came up and started to shout to the driver and his assistant (In Asia, minibuses often have at least two employees- one driver, and at least one person who leans out the open door and yells the destination and then jumps off the bus while it is still in motion and tries to convince, or in some cases push, people onto the bus.) His assistant quickly got off the bus to stop the policeman from boarding, but that only seemed to make him more mad. When the policeman pushed past the assistant and made it onto the bus he ordered all the passengers to get off the bus. Some people began to get up, but they were quickly told to sit back down by the driver. Pissed that his orders were being disobeyed (granted he looked 18 years old), he leaned over and yanked the key out of the ignition. He meant business. However, due to some amazing feat of Chinese mechanics, the minibus didn’t turn off, but kept running. The assistant somehow managed to edge the officer off the bus in one clean move; the driver, seeing his opportunity, took off for the highway, and left his assistant to sort the mess out. Finally, we were heading out of town for the caves.

So, there we are, cruising down the highway with no key in the ignition, and the driver keeps making all his regular stops, until, 20 minutes later, it is our turn to get off into the oppressively dry summer heat. Given that we were told that these caves were one of the treasures of China, we expected the place to be swarming with people, but it was relatively empty, which allowed us to leisurely explore some of the more cavernous caves. The caves were, in a word, amazing. Everything from 90-foot high Buddha statues to rooms where the walls were filled with thousands of small Buddha carvings, it was all very impressive, especially since most of them were done in the 8^th century.

That night, we waited for the cab driver, Ming Rei, to pick us up for dinner, but he never did show, so we went off and ate by ourselves. Our dinner at a street-side restaurant was tasty and eventful. We devoured kebabs of pork and beef that came with a spicy dipping sauce and steamed rice. What we didn’t order yet got as well was the sight of a Chinese toddler squat and relieve herself on the gravel sidewalk right next to our table. There was no need to undress for the occasion, she fortunately had on the infamous crotch-less pants that most kids wore in China. (China has enough environmental problems with a population of 1.3 billion people, could you imagine the impact that disposable diapers would have?)

After dinner we planned to go straight to bed after the long and exhausting day we had in the heat. We were getting ready for bed when someone knocked at our door at 10:00 pm. It was Ming Rei asking us if we were ready to go out for a drink. Not wanting to miss out on a night out with an interested local, we agreed and quickly got dressed again. Once in his car, he didn’t really offer any explanation why he never showed up earlier. We ended up in his favorite drinking spot, a small street side restaurant that looked more like a family get together than a real establishment. Nevertheless, it was a welcoming place that depicted real China. After our first round of beers were delivered they were followed with complimentary plates of meat. For over an hour we laughed and talked intensely about life with Ming Rei and another older Chinese fella who also joined our table. Although Ming Rei’s English wasn’t all that great he had not trouble getting his point across. There was no language barrier when he told us that nations are not governed by governments but by the hearts of its people and that it’s the stars that carry our messages to foreign lands. NikiAnne thought she was going to start crying she was so moved. It was obvious he had a lot of deep thoughts about the world and what’s important in it that he wanted to share, but the night was coming to a close. He refused to let us pay for anything and also extended an invitation to meet again tomorrow morning before our train left.

Just after the sun poked over the line of building tops on our street, he picked us up at our hostel, took us to see his apartment, which was spotless and very nice. It was much larger and more modern than I had expected it to be. Maybe taxi drivers make more money than I had assumed in China or perhaps he had some other job he didn’t tell us about. This time it was our turn to treat him, so we bopped around the corner from his place to a noodle stand, very near to where he had found us on our first day. This noodle soup was the best Chinese soup I had ever had. It was loaded with fresh thick chunks of potato noodles (or at least that’s what I understood) as well as some fresh leafy greens and a clear broth that had a nice bite to it. We couldn’t even begin to finish the amount of soup we were given so they dumped our leftovers into plastic bags, much like the ones you would take a goldfish home in, so we could finish them on the train. We said our goodbyes as Ming Rei dropped us off at the train station, another taxi ride he wouldn’t let us pay him for. Our day and a half with Ming Rei was the best welcome to China we could have asked for. Definitely one of the highlights of all of China; needless to say Ming Rei certainly deserves a spot in our Hall of Fame.

So, 7 hours later, we were in Beijing, where Andy studied Chinese for 2 months during the summer of 2001. We had a fabulous week there, and tried as much as possible to get all the ‘must-see’ tourist sights out of the way so we could see the ‘real’ Beijing. That Beijing consists of narrow, residential alleys called hutongs, which really gave us an idea of what “old” China must have been like. In such a large, cosmopolitan city, it is really rewarding when you find a slice, albeit however small, of local life; of small neighbourhood markets; of some people gathering together to play mahjong, while others have heated glasses put on their backs, an ancient form of Chinese medicine. We had two wonderfully rewarding days wandering aimlessly through these hutongs, all the more special since they will most likely be destroyed in the next couple of years as part of the modernization plans for the 2008 Summer Olympics, which Beijing is hosting.

The other sights we saw are your typical tourist ‘must sees’- the Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square, the night food market at Wangfujing, the bar area of Sanlitun, and of course the Great Wall, which remains as one of the highlights of our entire trip. There are many spots to see the Great Wall, all within day trip distance from Beijing. Some of the more touristy spots have KFC’s and endless amounts of hawkers, making the experience less than awe-inspiring. We choose a more remote site, and were thusly rewarded, with very few people there, both tourists and hawkers, and absolutely spectacular views over the surrounding foothills where you can get an impression of the magnificence of this achievement. The wall seemed to continue on and on, much of it still intact, and totally mesmerizing. Though by the end of the day, our legs were literally shaking from the endless steps leading you up and down the wall as it covered the nearby hills like a dragon’s tail.

We also paid a surprise visit to Andy’s Beijing host family. Andy was the first of their many host students to ever revisit them after their studies ended. We had some great laughs and dictionary-assisted conversations over a tasty home-cooked meal the wife whipped up quickly after we arrived. It was really nice to see them, and hear that they and their family was unaffected by the SARS epidemic (‘It was nothing,’ they said.). It was also great to see that they were doing quite well for themselves, with a computer and a new VCD Player (Video Compact Disc- a cheaper version of DVD) the most obvious examples of their good living.

The evening after going to the Great Wall, we boarded an overnight train to Zhengzhou, the access point to reach the Shaolin Temple, the birthplace of the world famous Shaolin-style of kung-fu. Unfortunately, it was cold and raining for our entire time there, so we couldn’t actually see the supposedly fabulous mountain scenery surrounding the Shaolin Temple. We did have a brief respite in the weather long enough to have a wander around the temple, which is now more of a museum than an active temple. However, there are around 10 kung-fu schools surrounding the temple, and it was at the largest one that we found housing. We were having a quiet dinner in the courtyard when students began coming from every which direction, all carrying their bowl and chopsticks and dressed in their school’s colors. Shortly thereafter, we were surrounded with curious students, and spent the rest of the dinner hour talking with student after student. We found out that there are over 15,000 students at the surrounding kung-fu schools, that the youngest of the students are 6 years, the oldest around 20, and they have to studying English as part of their teachings.

The next morning, we took a kung-fu class from one of the masters at the school. It was supposed to start at 5am and last 5 hours, but we instead started the class at 8 and it only ended up lasting 2 tiring and painful hours, before we turned to the master and asked him to show us ‘some cool stuff.’ Which he most certainly did, jumping, twisting and bounding his way around the room. Definitely worth the money.

From there, we headed to Xian, home of the terracotta warriors, the most famous symbol of China next to the panda. The city of Xian we found to be very crowded, polluted, and, to put it bluntly, ugly. However, the warriors were well worth it. Thousands of these warriors- each with different facial features- we made at the order of the Chinese Emperor, in order to guard him in the afterlife. These warriors were even equipped with real weapons and had terracotta horses to pull the chariots, which were made out of wood and have since decomposed. Though many were broken, a surprising number of these warriors have remained intact, and to see them all lined up, it makes all the pollution and overcrowding of Xian simply disappear.

From Xian, we made our way down to Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan province, famous worldwide for its culinary mastery. To be honest, we weren’t blown away by the food in Sichuan. In fact, we were pretty disappointed overall with the food in China, especially NikiAnne since they still use lots of MSG, which sets off a headache for her almost instantly. The biggest problem for us was breakfast. In the west, we eat sweet and plain things in the morning. However, in China, (and in Vietnam, as we would later learn), this distinction between breakfast and lunch or dinner does not exist, so in the morning you would see all the local Chinese eating, for example, spicy noodles with pork. Not exactly our idea of a nutritious way to start the day.

We spent our time in Chengdu exploring its beautiful and relaxing parks, drinking tea, and seeing the pandas at the Chengdu Panda Breading Center. We were really lucky to be able to see a panda that was only 30 days old- its eyes had not yet fully formed and could fit in the palm of your hand. Needless to say, it was very cute.

With our flight to Tibet leaving from Chengdu in 5 days, we had some time to kill, so we decided to head up to northern Sichuan to see the famous (well, at least in China) park of Jiuzhaigou. Famed for its turquoise waters, pristine surrounding forests, and strong Tibetan influence, we were willing to spend 12 hours on a bus to get there. However, we had not planned that it would be the worst bus ride ever! 12 hours of dust, weaving back and forth, endless honking, and steadily increasing amounts of garbage in the isles, we were only too happy to get off.

After finding out that we could not stay in the park (as it said in our guide book) and that admission prices had tripled to $25 per person per day, we were getting quite bummed before even entering the park. We spent the next day walking around inside it, and it was beautiful, especially once you got away from the thousands of Chinese tourists who would invade any tranquil spot from all possible angles. But with funds dwindling, we decided to cut short our time there and somehow enduring the 12-hour bus ride back to Chengdu.

We did in fact survive the ride back, though our sanity may have taken a later bus and not arrived until a day or two later. Then before we knew it, we were flying off to Tibet. Due to Tibet’s history and unique culture, we did a separate write up for it altogether, even though officially it is a province in China.

After our 17 days in Tibet, we flew back to Chengdu with plans to take a boat trip down the mighty Yangtze River and see the 3 Gorges Dam. Unfortunately, we were pressed for time (due to our visa limitations as well as the hectic Chinese National week looming over us). China basically has two holiday vacations, the Lunar New Year and National Week (October 1-7, 2004). The first one usually falls in May, but in 2003, SARS was going on, so the government asked people not to travel. So, everyone was expecting the National Week holiday to be absolute chaos Luckily we were told in advance that we should not travel throughout that week. So, we scrapped the Yangtze plans, and as fast as we could, we booked ourselves sleeper berths on the southbound train heading anywhere in Guangxi Province. Guilin, Longshen, and Yangshuo, all cities in the province, are well known for their spectacular scenery and relaxing atmosphere. We ended up surrounded by the karst limestone mountains and a billion Chinese tourists in Yangshuo. We had a much needed vacation from our trip there, sipping banana lassis and chowing down on good ol' American hamburgers and pizza. After a month and a half of difficult travel in China we felt the splurges were much deserved. And while it was unbelievably crowded there with Chinese tourists, it was very cool to see them on vacation, when they are much more relaxed and much less intense.

After a week in wonderful Yangshuo, we headed to our last province in China, Yunnan. Unbeknownst to us, we saved the best for last. Kunming, the provincial capital, was delightful as far as cities go, but we only used it as a jumping off point for the treasured historic minority towns of Dali and Lijiang. The province's wealth was immediately apparent as we cruised rather than bumped along the main highway. Nowhere in China had we seen such well-maintained roads. In both of these quaint towns (although reconstructed) we simply roamed the cobblestone streets, taking in the vibrant tie-dyed fabrics and exquisitely embroidered jackets and baby carriers. Unfortunately for us, we weren’t the only people there to admire the city and appreciate the atmosphere; busloads of Chinese tourists flooded the streets everyday to see what “old” China looked like since most of the traditional architecture in their cities and towns was razed in the name of industrialized development. Thanks to the UN, Lijiang will remain culturally and architecturally intact due to its World Heritage status.

It wasn't until we hiked Tiger Leaping Gorge that we actually earned and deserved all the savoury western food we were gorging ourselves with. The backdrop of Lijiang was the white-capped Snow Jade Dragon Mountain. Recognizing that the feat of climbing the mountain itself was too large for our out-of-shape bodies, we opted to do a 2-day, 20km hike through the Gorge that saddles the other side of the Mountain. Our hiking mates included Matt (American), Gavin (Irish), Guido (Dutch) and Vanessa (French). Hiking along the "high path" in such great company was by far one of the best things we did in all of China. We were greeted only by a few local hill-villagers and a heard of mountain goats. These two days were the only ones in China that we didn't have to inhale the nauseating fumes of autos. We toasted each other with Yunnan's prized local beer atop our guesthouse terrace as the sun set against the 9 Horse Peaks that stared down at us from across the Gorge. We thought there is a God.

Over the next two days we backtracked our trail from the Gorge to Kunming, leaving us just one day to do all of our errands before taking ANOTHER overnight bus to the southern Chinese border with Laos. None of the chores we did that day are worth mention here, except for our trip to the Kunming Post Office. It was there that a tragedy occurred and then an angel appeared. It’s standard procedure that in China anything that is being sent (at least overseas) has to be checked by a postal worker. The only thing we couldn’t send home were two music CDs. They said their content had to be checked at the main post office. Not wanting to exert the energy of making another stop we opted not sending them at all. NikiAnne was emptying the box’s contents onto the counter when one item rolled off the counter and smashed on the floor. As she bent down to pick it up another item rolled off the counter and smashed onto the floor. The items were a set of beautiful bamboo woven and hand painted salt and peppershakers NikiAnne had purchased for Andy as a surprise. The bubble wrap they were in proved worthless as the porcelain inside the bamboo weave was shattered. Due to complete exhaustion and travel fatigue NikiAnne began to breakdown in tears right at the counter. Before Andy even had the chance to offer comfort the voice of the young female postal worker came from behind the counter. In broken English she told NikiAnne not to cry, but to be happy and that everything would be okay. She continued by saying she felt very bad for our loss and would like to get us new shakers. Shocked by her kindness, we assured her that it wasn’t that big of deal and that we could live without them. After she learned where we had bought them she insisted that she would get us new ones. She has a former classmate who lives in that city and could help her to get them. Despite our opposition, in the end she noted down our permanent contact info and said that she’d send new shakers when she got them. Words can barely begin to explain how touched we were by her kindness and gesture. She became our newest angel. Shortly thereafter, a package from China arrived at NikiAnne's house in California "just in time for Christmas," her email said.

All in all, we enjoyed our time in China. Two months was enough time for this trip; we were definitely ready for a move down into the less populated and more relaxed South East Asia. Next stop…Laos.

(We can’t remember if we’ve mentioned before that we have a list of people we call angels on our trip. Essentially these are people who have happened to appear in our lives in a certain moment of need, changed our circumstance dramatically, and will forever remain in our hearts.---- We later learned that the angel we just mentioned from the Kunming Post Office is named Haze. Fortunately we had the foresight of getting her mailing address so we can return the gesture. To this day we’re still in regular email contact with her.)