Friday, October 15, 2004
Second Installment, Third to come soon
Sorry for all of those who were confused, the numbers after some of the Chinese morphemes is simply the tone used to say that particular one. Five tones in Chinese, but the fifth tone is kind of a dead tone, so I won’t be putting any 5’s anywhere, just leave it off in that case. This is only for those interested in saying the words ever in a Chinese situation, ignore them otherwise, I’ll try to use them sparingly.
So, to continue… We pull into the big sloping concrete dock at Bingling Temple after noticing the huge Buddha carved out of stone off to our right. This temple is famed for its grottoes and there were a good number of them to be sure. They were all numbered, and you had to purchase a ticket based on which of the 170 plus grottoes you wanted to see. We got the most basic entry pass and proceeded on, after having an interesting discussion with the ticket seller (interesting in the sense that we had no idea what she was seeing and she got really frustrated and shoved some receipt type thing at us and told us to move along). There were countless (unless you were counting) little Buddha type figures carved into the wall (each with its own number, making it unnecessary to count) as you went toward the temple and they were all exquisitely crafted in their own way. My eyes kept gravitating toward the big boy though, so I finally got there and stood underneath his benevolent gaze. There were wooden staircases notched into the wall that scaled his sides and traveled to other carvings in the wall near his head. If we had gotten the tour, we would have been able to see these, but I wasn’t going to pay any more money that day. I was just satisfied to stand in front of the big guy and gawk. I then crossed an ornate bridge and climbed toward a set of temples with different names and functions and personalities. I paid my respects to each of them and moved on, glancing back at the Buddha every now and then. We had only an hour to experience these sights, since the boat owner was anxious to make the trip back, so we had to book it. Now earlier on, when we first got there, I had been harangued by one peddler in particular as we got off the boat. She seemed to think that I had promised her I would buy something when I returned from the grottoes, cuz she just wouldn’t let up at all when I got back. I think I admired her tenacity or something, because I did end up buying a little worthless trinket, but I found it so interesting that some people make their living by selling this type of junk to tourists. She really did seem happy playing this game with me, trying to convince me of the worth of her wares and of the reasons why I should buy them. Money baffles me. It creates tensions where there should be none, gives purpose to some, creates preconceptions when no other information is available, and can make some people smile where even a kind word could not have the same effect. Everyone takes it for granted, accepts the status quo, but I really don’t like it at all. Meiyou banfa I guess, shooganai, nothing for it, that’s life, etc. We have these phrases in our languages for just such inconsistencies… I’m digressing, let’s move on.
And that’s what I did, moved on. We had to go to a different port to get to our next destination, so we were directed to another boat, with interesting consequences. This happened to be the party boat. Much smaller and with a family on board that were playing Chinese drinking games the whole time and dancing to bad c-pop.
The whole scene reminded me of a set of novels commonly called the Dream of the Red Chamber, set around 12th 13th century in an aristocratic mansion where the height of living seems to consist of having get-togethers and playing a variety of drinking games. The game these boat residents were playing is one that I’ve seen multiple times here in China but have yet to learn the rules. You throw out a certain number of fingers at the same time as your opponent until one of you loses. Sorta like rock paper scissors but more math oriented I suspect.
This boat ride was very restful, even with all of the drunk shenanigans occurring (Jena and Megan even went to the back and danced it up for a second). Instead of a couple hundred people on a big boat, mostly standing, we were relaxing at the prow of a little chugchugger with about 15 total people on board. I had seen a lot of sun already at this point, but that didn’t keep my redfaced self from lying out in the open and lazily watching the rocky walls of our lake bowl drift by. A little boy came out from within at one point and gave us some sunflower seeds and we were also passing around some kind of curry bread that we had purchased earlier in the day. And some hard-boiled eggs. It was definitely a nice rest from traveling, even though we were doing just that.
We pulled into a concrete incline and disembarked from our pleasure cruise. Back on land it seemed only fitting that confusion should reign supreme. Actually, it wasn’t all that bad, but we had to get from here to Linxia, the next stop on our trip. So we needed a van that fit… seven people, and bags. The boat owner from Binglingsi had told me to not let them charge more than 4 quai a person, so I bartered the fellow down from 5. :) not too hard. Strapping all of our gear on top, we set off, crammed into a van that exactly fit our girth. The bumps of this trip were nerve-racking at first for me, because I was expecting the hastily tied luggage to be strewn across the mountainside. I kept looking back like I had inner tubes tied to my trunk and was heading for the Ichetucknee at sixty mph. Nothing fell off though. Apparently, the driver had tied things on his roof before. Go figure.
LINXIA
So, after bumpy ride number one (the numbering system we weren’t aware of at this point) through semi-mountainous terrain, we fell into another trough of buildings and cars and tons more people than you’d expect a road curve before. It was quite smaller than Lanzhou, but still had the same busy city atmosphere. We went straight to a hotel listed on the Lonely Planet guide (not exactly adventurous are we, road most traveled) and checked in. As we were taking the bags off of the roof, we were at the same time trying to figure out whether Megan and Kyle could get to Xiahe in the same day or whether they had to wait until early the next day (we, meaning Megan Kyle and I, the others were already inside throwing down the money). During this question answer session, I was taking a bag off the back and stepped on the bumper to do so, totally denting it with my heavy ass. From that point on I spent a lot of time looking at the scenery and whistling foreign nameless tunes. There were no more busses to Xiahe at that point, so the answer was to stay the night.
Linxia is much more friendly than Lanzhou, the people more willing to talk and, as always, blatantly stare. The activity prepared for that night was simply to walk around the town and find somewhere to eat. We got an interesting soup that night with a bready substance in it that looked like fish.
Ooh, I forgot to put this in earlier. There was a hotpot dinner experience on our first night in Lanzhou. We were walking around looking for food and finally decided on a hotpot restaurant that looked warm and inviting on a cold night. We had such a problem ordering and I was so tired that I was no help whatsoever. I had a bunch of menus pushed in my face and everyone had that expectant look on their faces as if I’d be able to spot translate. Nope, sorry, I tai-tired, go way monkeys. So we ended up sending some representatives into the kitchen to look at types of fish and pick. And then we also ordered standard hotpot fare, different meats, veggies, and tofus to dip and eat. So we get one bowl brought out with deep fried fish in it that was amazingly good. Yum. THEN, we get a real hotpot bowl brought out afterward with all of our ingredients. All of us are stuffed at this point, wo de tian. When we leave that place, there is still a pile of meat and a forest of veggies left uneaten. Wasteful foreigners on the loose. Hopefully the food was put to good use (near the end of our meal a (stray? prolly not) dog ran through the eating area back into the kitchen area and no one blinked an eye, just shut it in the back. Hopefully they fed it our leftovers and not it to other customers.
So yeah, Linxia, a good place with friendly shop keepers and street vendors. The night there was kind of cold with no heat in the pad, but there were three small beds in this hotel, so I didn’t have to take the couch like I had in Lanzhou. Plenty of covers and I was out.
The next morning we made our way around the corner to the bus station. We kinda sauntered there, having woken up mildly latish and not in the mood to hurry. We stopped a couple of times to check out huge piles of green, red, and yellow curry, assorted dried fruits, and the local candies. With supplies in store, we moved onto the station. As it happened, a bus was leaving pretty much right then for Xiahe, what luck! So after scrounging around for our insurance forms (I had kept all but one in my secure fanny pack, but scott had kept his on him and succeeded in slightly misplacing it, finally finding it five minutes later) we bought the tickets and got on a bus where we were the only passengers, what luck! Then came the unlucky part.
We drove around Linxia for an hour, stopping at this gas station and that, trolling the streets for anyone willing to shell out some dough to get to Xiahe. The whole time the bus matron leaning out the door yelling “XIAHE! XIAHE! XIAHE! XIAHE!” Yeah, I was tired of that after about five minutes. When we finally did leave Linxia (after our third stop at the same gas station), we proceeded on a similar type of casual driving trip, where we’d stop every so often to check if the people on the side of the road couldn’t be possibly convinced to go to Xiahe. We weren’t the only ones on the bus anymore. They filled that sucker up. My seatmate was once again decided, and this time it seemed to be a Tibetan-looking fellow in woolen garb who smoked pungent cigarettes and was interested in purchasing my gloves that were five sizes too big for him. He even tried sleeping on my shoulder on the bumpy #2 trip, so cute, wish someone else had had my camera. An interesting part of this trip would be when the matron would run to the back and squish in with some people to make it seem like the bus wasn’t overcrowded to the cops they were passing. Ah, China.
I swear, it took us an hour to move the last twenty miles, but we finally did make it to Xiahe. The place of my dreams, why I came to China, the whole purpose of this trip.
To be continued… :)
So, to continue… We pull into the big sloping concrete dock at Bingling Temple after noticing the huge Buddha carved out of stone off to our right. This temple is famed for its grottoes and there were a good number of them to be sure. They were all numbered, and you had to purchase a ticket based on which of the 170 plus grottoes you wanted to see. We got the most basic entry pass and proceeded on, after having an interesting discussion with the ticket seller (interesting in the sense that we had no idea what she was seeing and she got really frustrated and shoved some receipt type thing at us and told us to move along). There were countless (unless you were counting) little Buddha type figures carved into the wall (each with its own number, making it unnecessary to count) as you went toward the temple and they were all exquisitely crafted in their own way. My eyes kept gravitating toward the big boy though, so I finally got there and stood underneath his benevolent gaze. There were wooden staircases notched into the wall that scaled his sides and traveled to other carvings in the wall near his head. If we had gotten the tour, we would have been able to see these, but I wasn’t going to pay any more money that day. I was just satisfied to stand in front of the big guy and gawk. I then crossed an ornate bridge and climbed toward a set of temples with different names and functions and personalities. I paid my respects to each of them and moved on, glancing back at the Buddha every now and then. We had only an hour to experience these sights, since the boat owner was anxious to make the trip back, so we had to book it. Now earlier on, when we first got there, I had been harangued by one peddler in particular as we got off the boat. She seemed to think that I had promised her I would buy something when I returned from the grottoes, cuz she just wouldn’t let up at all when I got back. I think I admired her tenacity or something, because I did end up buying a little worthless trinket, but I found it so interesting that some people make their living by selling this type of junk to tourists. She really did seem happy playing this game with me, trying to convince me of the worth of her wares and of the reasons why I should buy them. Money baffles me. It creates tensions where there should be none, gives purpose to some, creates preconceptions when no other information is available, and can make some people smile where even a kind word could not have the same effect. Everyone takes it for granted, accepts the status quo, but I really don’t like it at all. Meiyou banfa I guess, shooganai, nothing for it, that’s life, etc. We have these phrases in our languages for just such inconsistencies… I’m digressing, let’s move on.
And that’s what I did, moved on. We had to go to a different port to get to our next destination, so we were directed to another boat, with interesting consequences. This happened to be the party boat. Much smaller and with a family on board that were playing Chinese drinking games the whole time and dancing to bad c-pop.
The whole scene reminded me of a set of novels commonly called the Dream of the Red Chamber, set around 12th 13th century in an aristocratic mansion where the height of living seems to consist of having get-togethers and playing a variety of drinking games. The game these boat residents were playing is one that I’ve seen multiple times here in China but have yet to learn the rules. You throw out a certain number of fingers at the same time as your opponent until one of you loses. Sorta like rock paper scissors but more math oriented I suspect.
This boat ride was very restful, even with all of the drunk shenanigans occurring (Jena and Megan even went to the back and danced it up for a second). Instead of a couple hundred people on a big boat, mostly standing, we were relaxing at the prow of a little chugchugger with about 15 total people on board. I had seen a lot of sun already at this point, but that didn’t keep my redfaced self from lying out in the open and lazily watching the rocky walls of our lake bowl drift by. A little boy came out from within at one point and gave us some sunflower seeds and we were also passing around some kind of curry bread that we had purchased earlier in the day. And some hard-boiled eggs. It was definitely a nice rest from traveling, even though we were doing just that.
We pulled into a concrete incline and disembarked from our pleasure cruise. Back on land it seemed only fitting that confusion should reign supreme. Actually, it wasn’t all that bad, but we had to get from here to Linxia, the next stop on our trip. So we needed a van that fit… seven people, and bags. The boat owner from Binglingsi had told me to not let them charge more than 4 quai a person, so I bartered the fellow down from 5. :) not too hard. Strapping all of our gear on top, we set off, crammed into a van that exactly fit our girth. The bumps of this trip were nerve-racking at first for me, because I was expecting the hastily tied luggage to be strewn across the mountainside. I kept looking back like I had inner tubes tied to my trunk and was heading for the Ichetucknee at sixty mph. Nothing fell off though. Apparently, the driver had tied things on his roof before. Go figure.
LINXIA
So, after bumpy ride number one (the numbering system we weren’t aware of at this point) through semi-mountainous terrain, we fell into another trough of buildings and cars and tons more people than you’d expect a road curve before. It was quite smaller than Lanzhou, but still had the same busy city atmosphere. We went straight to a hotel listed on the Lonely Planet guide (not exactly adventurous are we, road most traveled) and checked in. As we were taking the bags off of the roof, we were at the same time trying to figure out whether Megan and Kyle could get to Xiahe in the same day or whether they had to wait until early the next day (we, meaning Megan Kyle and I, the others were already inside throwing down the money). During this question answer session, I was taking a bag off the back and stepped on the bumper to do so, totally denting it with my heavy ass. From that point on I spent a lot of time looking at the scenery and whistling foreign nameless tunes. There were no more busses to Xiahe at that point, so the answer was to stay the night.
Linxia is much more friendly than Lanzhou, the people more willing to talk and, as always, blatantly stare. The activity prepared for that night was simply to walk around the town and find somewhere to eat. We got an interesting soup that night with a bready substance in it that looked like fish.
Ooh, I forgot to put this in earlier. There was a hotpot dinner experience on our first night in Lanzhou. We were walking around looking for food and finally decided on a hotpot restaurant that looked warm and inviting on a cold night. We had such a problem ordering and I was so tired that I was no help whatsoever. I had a bunch of menus pushed in my face and everyone had that expectant look on their faces as if I’d be able to spot translate. Nope, sorry, I tai-tired, go way monkeys. So we ended up sending some representatives into the kitchen to look at types of fish and pick. And then we also ordered standard hotpot fare, different meats, veggies, and tofus to dip and eat. So we get one bowl brought out with deep fried fish in it that was amazingly good. Yum. THEN, we get a real hotpot bowl brought out afterward with all of our ingredients. All of us are stuffed at this point, wo de tian. When we leave that place, there is still a pile of meat and a forest of veggies left uneaten. Wasteful foreigners on the loose. Hopefully the food was put to good use (near the end of our meal a (stray? prolly not) dog ran through the eating area back into the kitchen area and no one blinked an eye, just shut it in the back. Hopefully they fed it our leftovers and not it to other customers.
So yeah, Linxia, a good place with friendly shop keepers and street vendors. The night there was kind of cold with no heat in the pad, but there were three small beds in this hotel, so I didn’t have to take the couch like I had in Lanzhou. Plenty of covers and I was out.
The next morning we made our way around the corner to the bus station. We kinda sauntered there, having woken up mildly latish and not in the mood to hurry. We stopped a couple of times to check out huge piles of green, red, and yellow curry, assorted dried fruits, and the local candies. With supplies in store, we moved onto the station. As it happened, a bus was leaving pretty much right then for Xiahe, what luck! So after scrounging around for our insurance forms (I had kept all but one in my secure fanny pack, but scott had kept his on him and succeeded in slightly misplacing it, finally finding it five minutes later) we bought the tickets and got on a bus where we were the only passengers, what luck! Then came the unlucky part.
We drove around Linxia for an hour, stopping at this gas station and that, trolling the streets for anyone willing to shell out some dough to get to Xiahe. The whole time the bus matron leaning out the door yelling “XIAHE! XIAHE! XIAHE! XIAHE!” Yeah, I was tired of that after about five minutes. When we finally did leave Linxia (after our third stop at the same gas station), we proceeded on a similar type of casual driving trip, where we’d stop every so often to check if the people on the side of the road couldn’t be possibly convinced to go to Xiahe. We weren’t the only ones on the bus anymore. They filled that sucker up. My seatmate was once again decided, and this time it seemed to be a Tibetan-looking fellow in woolen garb who smoked pungent cigarettes and was interested in purchasing my gloves that were five sizes too big for him. He even tried sleeping on my shoulder on the bumpy #2 trip, so cute, wish someone else had had my camera. An interesting part of this trip would be when the matron would run to the back and squish in with some people to make it seem like the bus wasn’t overcrowded to the cops they were passing. Ah, China.
I swear, it took us an hour to move the last twenty miles, but we finally did make it to Xiahe. The place of my dreams, why I came to China, the whole purpose of this trip.
To be continued… :)
