It's hard to explain what living in China is like without giving you all an analogy or story.

On Sunday, my classmates and I had planned to take a trip to the Sea of Bamboo. One of our friends from the Yangtze River cruise, a man known simply as "The Judge", had given us an open invitation to tour the park with him. We sent a text message to him earlier this week explaining that seven of us would be making the journey on Sunday. We were told to take the bus from Chengdu, and it would only take two hours.

Early Sunday morning, Andrea, the onsight coordinator of our exchange program went to the bus stop to buy the tickets. When she asked how long the bus trip was, the cashier told her it was four hours. She called us, and we decided to go ahead and go anyway.

We got on a nearly empty bus and settled in for the journey. Two hours came and went. Three hours came and went. Four and a half hours came and went. Just as we were reaching hour number six, the bus pulled up to the park entrance at the Sea of Bamboo. It was now about three in the afternoon, and we had to get back to Chengdu that evening. Andrea asked the driver when the next bus back to Chengdu was and found out it was either in fifteen minutes, or the next morning. As we were discussing what to do, a man (hereafter referred to as "that bozo") approached and asked if we were willing to hire a private car for the return trip to the city. After some haggling, the price was still too high and we asked if he would just take us to a train station in a town called Yibin. We had passed through Yibin about an hour before. After some more haggling, we agreed to take his car to Yibin where he promised there was a night train back to Chengdu.

We bought our entrance tickets and started walking up the road and into the park. Pretty soon a car pulled alongside our little band of travelers and offered to take us on a driving tour of the park. We declined, and the driver drove off. Suddenly, we heard some shouting coming from behind. We stopped and turned around only to see our new friend, the bozo running up the hill towards us. "I'll give you a ride, only 200 kuai! You must take a driving tour of the park, you won't see the good sites otherwise!"

Another ten minutes was spent arguing with the guy. He backed off the driving trip idea in favor of following us in hopes that we would get tired and take him up on his offer.

We meandered into the park, stopping when we found a stream running parallel to the road. Several of us scootched down to the creek's edge and took photos. After living in Chengdu nearly three months, it's a real treat to be in such a beautiful park.

A little further up the road we came across a trail cut through the bamboo. The trail went straight up hill, away from other tourists and most importantly, the bozo. We started to ascend the steep hill, all the while wondering aloud where the trail would lead us.

"Hey! Hey! You won't see any of the sites here!" We looked behind us and discovered our friend was close to catching up. "Don't look at him and maybe he'll just go away. Pretend like he's not there."

The trail led us up to a small gathering of homes perched on top of the hillside. From the road below, you cannot see the fields and farmland that had been cultivated here. We continued past the houses and back out onto another street.

Dee-Dee-Dee-Dee-Dee!!!... Bozo's phone rang. "WEI!?" We started walking faster.

Further down the road we ran into a small row of shops. Stopping at an empty storefront, we bought ramen noodles and sat down at a small table. All through lunch, we watched as our new friend paced outside, hoping desperately that he would leave. His phone number had already been obtained by one of our group, and we still didn't want the driving trip. Walking would do just fine, thank you.

We continued down the road a ways until we came to another trail. This one appeared to be one of the stops on the tourist route. A large pagoda sat near the entrance, and a line of shops selling dried mushrooms sat nearby. Entering the trail, I was struck by how dark it was. The bamboo blocked out all traces of sunlight, and suddenly the world seemed damp. The trail zig-zagged up a steep hill, eventually leading to a waterfall.

As evening approached, it was decided that we needed to leave the waterfall and head back down the hill. It had been made clear that if we arrived in the neighboring city of Yibin before too late, we could catch a night train back to Chengdu. Bozo was waiting at the bottom of the hill. He had arranged for a larger car to drive us to Yibin.

The car pulled up to the train station an hour later. The train station was small and delapidated, the lobby nearly empty. We approached the single open window. The woman looked up from her schedules and barked into the microphone, "What tickets do you want?"

"We want to take the 9:00 pm train back to Chengdu."

"We don't have a train to Chengdu tonight, the only one is tomorrow morning."

Several young ladies gathered around to eavesdrop on our conversation. Realizing our problem, one of the ladies pulled Andrea aside and told her about a night bus to Chengdu. It only cost sixty kuai she was assured, and it only took three hours. The bus was scheduled to arrive at the train station in a few minutes, we would have to rush to get there. We bounded out the door, leaving the crowd of onlookers behind. The young woman who helped us was right, the bus pulled up just as we reached the curb and we all boarded.

The four and a half hour bus ride was uneventful, but like everything in China, was an interesting experience. There was spitting and smoking, littering, and Chinese movies. The woman behind me sat with her head out a half open window the entire trip. Perhaps the combination of smoke and karaoke music had finally gotten to her.

Pulling into Chengdu was a relief. The bus dropped us off at the edge of the city, from there we took a taxi to retrieve our bicycles. All in all I had a great time. I'll be posting some of the pictures later, although they are already posted to my webshots account.