Xinjiang

I've been putting off this blog all week just because I know it's going to be long and I have other things to do. The weekend is finally here, and although I still have a couple of midterms, things have slowed down for a bit.

Xinjiang was a ton of fun. We've been talking about going to Xinjiang ever since we walked into a Xinjiang restaurant and ate dapanji-big plate of chicken. The grilled lamb kebabs found nearly everywhere in Chengdu cemented the deal. We had to go.

In both October and May there is a week-long holiday in China. Nearly everyone has the time off, (although they are forced to work the weekends to make it up) and they often use it for travel. Traveling is insane; the trains are packed, the airfares are high, and the buses are stuffed to the brim with workers and students returning home. Although taking the train would have been cheaper, we couldn't afford to spend three days on the train each way. In the end, we opted to fly.

Flying to the capital of Xinjiang, a city that looks just like nearly every other city in China, takes well over three hours. We arrived in the evening, grabbed our bags and headed out to catch a cab. We'd been warned that cab drivers in Urumqi were notorious for their bad practices, so when we asked the driver to use the meter we weren't surprised that he ignored us and only after some badgering did he comply with our request.

After checking into the youth hostel, we headed out to the night market. Our guide book listed this as one of the only things to do in Urumqi, and added that it was not to be missed.

The night market stretched down a narrow road for about six blocks. Every stall sold some sort of kebab, and many more additionally sold noodles, yogurt, naan bread, and other treats. I love Xinjiang food...




The next morning we met up with some other foreigners we had met in Chengdu. They have been living in Xinjiang for nearly a year now, so they were familiar with the layout of the city and could give us some advice. Our first order of business was to take a trip to the train station. We wanted to get on a fast train to Kashgar. While we were standing in line, we met another European foreigner. He looked like one of those rejected by the West types. He was drunk, dressed in Hawaiian garb, and had a girlfriend young enough to be his daughter. We told him our destination, and he commented that ha ha, if we find Bin Laden, ha ha, we were not to turn him over to the Americans, ha ha.

No fast train tickets were left, the only train that we could get took over twenty-four hours.

The entire trip is made through the desert. At times you can see ruins of some homes or a small town just off the horizon. At others, dusty mountains tower over the tracks. The ride was hot. Every hour or so, we would open the windows to let fresh air in. About ten minutes after that, a Chinese person would come along and close all of them. Sometimes it was justified; the wind would blow and all the passengers would suddenly be covered in a layer of dust. But most of the time it wasn't justified. It was hot, and the open windows helped a lot. This opening and shutting of windows went on all day, all evening, and all the next day until we finally pulled into the Kashgar station.





The hotel we were booked into claimed to be the sight of the former British consulate in Kashgar. It’s hard to know what to believe, the place looked just like every other building in China, and the interior was most definitely a hotel. The hotel was comprised of several cookie cutter buildings, all with different names. The building we stayed in was called the Qinibagh, the one across the way had the word “International” written in English, and the word “Friendship” written in Chinese.


Because we’re all poor students, we opted for a three-bed cheap room. We didn’t know this until we got there, but the place we were staying in was under construction. It was obvious when we walked in the doors that something was amiss. All the lights were out, and you could hear workers banging around with their hammers and things. When we stepped off the elevator, we very nearly walked into a bucket of paint. Everyday we had to walk over piles of newspaper on the floor, duck hanging wires, and avoid piles of debris to get to our room. The electricity was iffy, the wall had a hole in it, and the water only had two temperatures: scalding and ice.

We decided to check out the night market and see what we could scrounge up for dinner. As usual, everything was delicious and we got to try several things we’d never had before. On our way back to the hotel, Sarah and I passed a shop that was selling fur hats. The best ones they had were hats made from sheep. Not wool hats, sheep hats. I tried to resist buying them, but the urge was too great. I’m sure you’ll agree they were a worthwhile purchase!

Our last stop before turning in was at a small stall near our hotel. The vendor was making a drink out of yogurt, honey and ice, which he mixed expertly by flicking his wrist causing the drink to splash up and back into the small bowl. While we were drinking, an English-speaking guy approached and introduced himself as a tour guide. I thought he was going to try and sell us one of his tours, but nope, he just wanted to warn us to eat something hot afterwards otherwise would be spending the whole night puking. With that friendly reminder, he trudged off into the night.



Our first full day in Kashgar was spent at the morning market. The city isn’t very big; everywhere we wanted to go was within walking distance. The morning market was a covered market, and nearly every stall was jammed with prayer rugs and hajib scarves. We spent a lot of time just wandering around looking at all that could be had. The biggest mosque in China is located in Kashgar and in order to visit we were told that we would have to cover up. Even though there was a huge selection, most of the scarves weren’t that pretty or just didn’t suit our tastes. The women in Kashgar dressed differently than the women in other parts of China. Some women wore more rustic looking traditional clothes, but more often than not, the women were wearing gaudy, loud, neon colored, sparkly dresses. I couldn’t figure it out; here these women were going about their daily routine in ugly sparkly dresses! I wish I had taken more pictures of this; it was way too funny.



After making all our purchases, we decided to walk to the mosque. On every street corner, people were selling fruit and spices that we don’t see in the rest of China. There was a ton of pomegranate merchants, most of them making juice out of the fruit with large, spiky contraptions.

The mosque itself was rather small. At the entrance there was a sign talking about how wonderful China is for allowing freedom of religion, and how the minorities all sought unity with Beijing and the country at large. This kind of propaganda was everywhere in Kashgar (which ironically is home to the largest statue of Mao in the world). Xinjiang is not one of China’s happiest places, but yet if you believed everything that was written, you would think it was paradise.





We booked a tour with our hotel to Karakul Lake and the Stone Castle. Included in the tour was a “home visit.” Also included was a stay in a yurt at the lakeside. The guy who booked our tickets had a friend who let us stay at his place, bypassing the tourist yurt-motel area and the accompanying fees.

The next morning we got up early and drove several hours to a small town called Tashkurgan near the border of Pakistan. On the way, we had to stop and go through a Chinese checkpoint. No pictures were allowed, but vendors had already sought out the lonely spot and were selling their wares.

The Stone Castle is located just outside Tashkurgan’s small downtown. A total of maybe a dozen buildings housing grocery stores and restaurants were all that was there. In the far corner of the town was the ruin of what we were told was Stone Castle. I really have no idea what this fortress was; I’ve searched the internet and haven’t turned up anything useful. Needless to say it was fun poking around and looking at various rocks and animal bones at the sight. Sarah and I both found cool rocks, something we’ve been doing since the beginning. From the castle sight, you could look out into a valley where a dozen or so yurts were located. From my spot on the hill, I could see a small soccer game taking place and people outside all engage in various activities.

That afternoon we were taken for the home visit part of our tour. I was dreading this part of the trip, the whole thing sounded hokey and contrived. I wasn’t disappointed. We were led by our tour guide to a mud house down at the edge of the valley. Several women sat outside in traditional clothes working on some crafts. Another women held a baby (I’ll show you the picture in the next post, I don’t want to horrify you all when you’re half way through the blog!), and a small boy stood shyly by his mother. The oldest women invited us inside to take a look around and ask any questions if we had them. It turns out that they were the perfect, China-loving, communist family. On the walls of one room, pictures of all the past communist leaders were displayed lovingly. The visit went from awkward to really, really awkward when the tour guide decided to stall us until the hour was up. Finally, we left.

That night we stayed at Karakul Lake. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves as to the beauty of this place. Several hundred feet down the shore was the yurt motel. This is where I thought we were going to be staying, but because of the tour guide agreement/shady dealings we ended up staying in someone’s home. They cooked dinner and breakfast for us, and made up beds when it was time to sleep. When we first arrived, we asked where the bathrooms where. The tour guide laughed.

The next morning the ladies who made us breakfast treated us to the obligatory sales pitch. They laid out their jewelry and hand made crafts, while the tour guide acted as interpreter. Even though the price was jacked up, I just couldn’t find it in my heart to refuse these ladies. I’m such a sucker.

A little later that morning one of the yurt neighbors came by trying to sell us sheep hats. Along with the sheep hats he had some made from unknown animals. I asked what they were, but he didn’t seem to know. One hat looked particularly familiar. When I was a kid, I owned a tabby cat named Silvia. This hat looked just like her! I know it’s a little gross, but at the time I thought it was hilarious and so I asked the guy if he had any others. He then invited us to his house where we sat and waited for his brother to go and get them from another yurt neighbor. I’ll let you all know I bought two of them, and they are kind of gross.

We stayed at the lake one night, and the next morning headed back to Kashgar. Again we spent the day checking out the sights of the city, although this time we made a special stop to a Taj Mahal-style mausoleum. That night we stopped again for a bowl of yogurt/ice drink. As soon as the vendor saw us, he put a cassette tape in a small player and began to play Uyger pop music. Then he wanted to dance. The small benches were pushed away from the stand, and the music was cranked up. Then he began to dance. Soon a crowd had gathered and he was inviting us to join him. The dancing included a lot of walking in circles and arm waving, but it was a ton of fun. After everyone had joined in the dance at least once, it was time to close up and go. The crowd dissipated after a number of goodbyes, and the bill was paid only after a short argument with the now drunk vendor.

In order to make our plane in Urumqi, we either had to fly the night before or take the sleeper bus. Sarah, Ben and I opted for the sleeper bus. Carly, who is much wiser, opted to pay the airfare. To be fair, the sleeper bus wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, although it didn’t stop enough and you couldn’t get up and walk around. The beds were too short for me, so I slept with my legs sprawled out into the aisle. The bus has three rows of bunk beds, each about half the size (length and width) and a normal twin bed. I was in the middle bottom bunk, with the television just above my head. The kung fu movie and karaoke wasn’t the worst I’ve seen in China, but it was bad. I’m not sure I’d travel this way again, but as all things in China are, it was an adventure.

We made it back to Chengdu in one piece, and I packed up and sent the cat hats home a day ago. Xinjiang was awesome, but I’m happy to be back.

First the Pics:

Another China Day

Some days in China are just more exciting than others. Today for example, I left class with a long to-do list, but as so often happens in China, I was interrupted half way through.

After class, I first needed to retrieve my video camera from a friend and then I needed to visit a couple of stores for some shopping. As the mosquitoes are back in full force, I decided to stop by a pharmacy and see if I could get some anti-itch cream. I wasn't sure what to ask for, so I sidled up to one of the clerks and told her mosquitoes bite me a lot. She seemed to understand because a few minutes later she reappeared with a tube of medicine.

Later that afternoon, I went in search of a bicycle repair man who would pump up the tires on my bike. I get them pumped up about once every two weeks. Every time I ask for new tires, the repair man just replaces the patches. There's a repair man on nearly every corner here, so you're never far away from help.

There's a mall about a mile from my house. In front of the mall is a very large, very busy intersection. Everyday people run the red light, ride on the wrong side of the road, and just generally make a nuisance of themselves. As I was trying to cross the street, a man on a scooter came flying towards me. We both stared at each other for a second unsure which way to go. In the US when people are heading on a collision course, they'll usually both move to the right. Not so in China; people don't move at all, or they move in whatever direction suits them. This guy didn't move. I made a sharp turn at the last second. His scooter rammed into the front tire of my bike, sending my groceries flying. I was fine, but at this point I wasn't sure what to do. Do I apologize, or just walk away? Do I wait to see if he offers to repair the now mangled wheel, or should I offer to fix his hand break that mysteriously fell off? In the end I opted to walk away while he was preoccupied with the hand brake.

The front tire of the bike was so bent out of shape that it wouldn't move. I lifted it by the handlebars and pulled it to the nearest bike guy who happened to be across the street. He looked at my bike, told me to flip it over and proceeded to work on it. I thought he was just going to give me a new wheel, but nope, he opted to instead bend the wheel back into shape. He first took it off the bike, and then leaned it up against a brick. Stepping onto the outer rim, he began to bounce until it was nearly back to normal. After a bit more tweaking and the addition of some new brakes, I was ready to go. I hopped on the bike and took off.

Several blocks later the new brakes loosened and fell down so that they were rattling against the spokes. I tried to fix the problem myself, but after a few minutes it became clear I wasn't going to make it anywhere very fast without another trip to the bike guy. Once again, I picked up the bike by the handlebars and pulled it to a bike fixing station a block down the road. This time, an old woman was working. She spent nearly a half hour tinkering with and replacing parts of the brakes until she finally threw her hands up and wired them back on. They don't really work, but I don't think that was her point. She spoke to me the whole time I stood with her. She had a heavy Sichuan accent and the only thing I managed to understand from her was "lift the bike and let me look" and "you need to replace that part and this part and that other part and this one here and that one and this one..."

I took off again. Several blocks later the chain fell off. Fixing that I took off again, nearly getting mowed down by a dump truck on the way. I made it home in one piece to soon find that the I had accidentaly left a packet of tissue in some pants that I had just laundered. My clothes had been TP'd.

The only thing that could make this day more "China" would be if that tube of mosquito stuff kills me. It's starting to tingle...

Stolen Bike Market: Part 2

Several weeks after arriving in China, some of the Chinese students took myself and Sarah out to buy bikes. Rumors of a stolen bike market where bikes were sold dirt cheap had reached our ears and we determined to go and check it out for ourselves.

The market wasn't actually a market, it was a street filled with shady looking people. As we entered the main intersection, the quickest vendor made his way over to us and asked in a hushed voice if we wanted a bike.

The reason I bring this up again is that recently Sarah's bike was stolen. Bike thievery is incredibly common here in China. Most foreigners I know say the going rate is one or more a year stolen. The Chinese I talk to put their lifetime totals at twenty or thirty. Mine fortunately, is still with me.

The first trip to the bike market required a Chinese guide. Sarah and I were determined that a second trip would only require us. The day after her bike was stolen, we shared lunch together and determined what are plan of action should be. We decided that 100 kuai was a good price, but we wanted to make sure that included a lock.

We paid our bill and walked in the direction of the bike market. As predicted, as soon as we stepped in the neighborhood we were asked if we needed a bike. We told the man yes, and he beckoned for us to follow him behind a row of shacks. We walked down a muddy pathway, past several small huts, and through a small construction site until we finally arrived at the front door of a shack. Opening it, we could see that a single light bulb hung from the ceiling, lighting up what would otherwise have been a pitch black room. A young woman sat at a table eating lunch. She paid us no attention. Our host led us to a back room, kept closed and locked to keep prying eyes out. He reached out and pulled a switch, illuminating the room. There before us stood nearly half a dozen brand new bicycles.

I looked at the vendor, sure he was wanting us to spend more than we were willing. We told him no, these bikes would not do. We needed a cheaper one. His friend, a man who mysteriously appeared in the room as soon as we started talking, agreed to go and find us a cheaper one. We stood silently in the room for a while until he came back with a bright-orange-older-than-my-parents-bike. It was perfect.

We haggled over the price for a while until we were finally satisfied. At first they were willing to give us the bike for 100 kuai, but we needed a lock and they didn't want to include that with the price. After another few minutes of awkward silence, they agreed to bring a lock. The friend then reached into a box and pulled out the flimsiest lock I have ever seen. At this point a third person arrived on the scene, her purse full of bike locks. We stood around a bit more and finally agreed to buy the bike and the two locks for just over 100. The friend pulled out an album full of fake brand stickers and stuck one directly on top of the original sticker on the bike. Not a bad deal if you ask me.

Spring is come!

Spring has finally come to Chengdu! After freezing our behinds off all winter, spring has come with a vengeance. It was warm a couple of days and then suddenly someone turned the furnace up and it became hot! The weather here is always humid, making the cold feel colder and the hot hotter. For two days we actually had blue sky. I so rarely see it that when it comes, it's all I can do to stay inside. White skin is all the rage here, so I get lots of stares when I roll up my sleeves and pants and bask in the sun.

The students have gotten into the spirit too. Outside dorm and apartment buildings, residents can be seen hanging their bed linens on the shrubbery to dry. The women have finally taken off their long underwear in favor of gloves and sweaters (I will never understand this), and have donned welder's masks whenever they are outside to keep the sun from tanning their skin. Girls are carrying pretty umbrellas to keep the sun off their faces, while those on bikes have rigged their umbrellas to stand up straight from the handlebars.

All of this is quite a sight, but the oncoming of spring has made me feel the passage of time more now than ever. I'm beginning to realize how close home is, and am in part dreading it and excited at the same time. China is a lot of fun, but home will be good too.

It rained today reminding me of Seattle. I never thought I'd say this, but I miss the rain.

Arrgh...

Last weekend my classmate Matt was hurt and taken to the hospital. I'd heard stories of hospital visits, but have fortunately never had to visit one on my own. I thought about writing a whole blog post about the experience, but decided it was better left in the hands of those who saw it. Here's an excerpt from Sarah's blog telling all about it:

"At about 2pm we see a few of the guys run across our field back to where everyone's stuff is and we look over the field the men were playing on and everyone has stopped and gathered in a circle. I hear someone say "someone's hurt" and I look over and it's Matt. A minute later two guys are helping Matt walk back over to the bench and it is obvious Matt has broken both the bones in his right forearm (like his arm is bent in a way that bones don't typically bend and it has broken the skin). Garth, who has a car, drives Matt, Eoin (an Irish guy that was the guy takling Matt when it happened) and Xiao Mei (a CHinese girl going to translate) to Huaxi hospital and we all don't really know what to do, so we keep playing. After another hour we finish practice and I hop in the first car going back. On the way back we stopped at this guy Mike's factory. He is in China helping set up a factory to make MRI machines so we saw them making and testing the first MRI machine ever made in China and I learned how MRI's really work, which was very interesting. However, I was really worried about Matt this whole time and I just wanted to get to the hospital and make sure he was going to be ok. I finally got there and Matt was in a room on a bed and X-Rays had been taken (which they had to wait an hour for to be developed), but nothing besides that had happened. The arm was still in a cardboard sling that a guy on our team had put on when it first happened. By this time it was probably about 4:30 already. In the next hour three different doctors came by to look at it. The first doctor took off the sling and looked at the arm and the X-Rays then put it back on and went away. Then the next one came and took off the sling and looked at it with some nurses and then without putting anything back on just walked away. So I am standing there holding Matt because it really hurts and I don't want him to look down at his arm which has the forearm part hanging alot lower than the hand which he is holding with his other hand. It feels like we are waiting forever like this (maybe a few minutes in reality, but WAY TOO LONG) until someone finally comes back and they wrap it up again. Then the last doctor comes and says that he is just going to set it in a cast for now and then Matt will need surgery to re-set the bones in about a week. By this time many more people have arrived, one of them being a Western doctor who a guy from the rugby team brought over to help out. The Western doctor says "no, this surgery should happen now" and goes to talk to the doctors. We find out the the whole reason they want to wait is so they can make sure that we pay before they preform the surgery, they essentially won't do anything until we pay them upfront. SO I call Matt's mom (in the middle of the night in Seattle) and get Matt's insurance information and we try to get that rolling and decided we will do whatever it takes to have the surgery happen now. In the end it turns out the the western doctor convinced them that money would not be a problem and by calling the insurance company we were able to open a case as well, so at 7pm Matt finally went into surgery. It took 3 hours to finish and they screwed a metal plate to each of his bones to stabilize them. After the surgery I felt alot better, but it was just a very scary, stressful experience because you felt like you couldn't trust anything the doctors were telling you. Thank god the western doctor came to help, but he left again after like an hour so we were on our own again (andrea being the next most qualified person to make decisions). The level of care was just so much lower than anything you would ever receive in the states and whenever you tried to ask anyone a question they would never give you an answer. Like when we tried to ask how long Matt's surgery would take, they just said when it's done you'll know, which was the kind of responses we were getting all night. But after the surgery was done and we were back upstairs in a recovery room (with a few other patients too of course) I felt alot better because atleast the break was secured now and I felt like the hard part was over. Andrea stayed the night with Matt and I got home at like 12:45am or so. The next day, Monday, after class I went right back to the hospital with some things for Matt, like movies, his computer, etc. Surgery in China is not like in the states and we had no idea how long he would have to stay there, so we were preparing for the long haul. When I got there that afternoon Matt was looking alot better, but very uncomfortable because his arm hurt alot and was swelling like MAD and they also had to put in a catheter. I stayed with Matt all afternoon. We had to have someone with him all the time because, aside from the fact that he doesn't speak Chinese and it's good to have moral support, in China it is BYO nurse. So while I was there I was in charge of alerting the nurse attending to our room when his IV was getting low and emptying the catheter every two hours. I also keep asking every doctor that came around (all two of them) if the swelling was normal because the wrapping seemed really tight and when we could take out the cathedar and of course getting no answers. Matt asked me to take that picture of his arm, he has wanted me to document this for some reason. That evening I was relived and left for our customary UW meeting and to get dinner and then went back to stay the night. By the time I got back we had gotten the catheter out and the bandages changed (and loosened) so Matt was in much higher spirits. Plus he was finally sleeping, which was really good. He slept alot of the night, but unfortunately I did not. That's ok though, I didn't really expect to. I did homework and read and we watched a movie, "Time Bandits". Andrea came to relieve me at 7:30 so I could go to class. I just got home and ate lunch and now, although I am exhausted, I can't sleep. But I am laying in my bed as I write this and will hopefully try to get some rest, or atleast go to sleep early tonight. I know I will crash at some point. We also just found out the Matt will be getting out of the hospital tomorrow, which is great. He has been so brave and great through this whole thing, I am so proud of him. It's scary enough to have this happen to you in the states and I remember how much it sucks. Having it happen in China I can't even imagine. Anyways, it has been an intense few days but it seems as though we are out of the woods."

Almost Xinjiang!

Tomorrow several of my classmates and I will be heading off on our Spring break trip. We'll be going to Xinjiang, first flying to Urumqi and then making our way over land to Kashi. We'll be gone a week.

We've been talking of making this trip for quite some time now. We've talked of going to Tibet and various other parts of China, but I think the place that won out was Xinjiang.

Xinjiang is located in the far Northwest corner of China. It is home to the Uyger minority people, and some of the best food to be found in China. The majority of China's muslim people live in that area, and it was also there that the old silk road passed through. This will be my last big trip of the year, and I'm really excited about it. When I return I'll be posting pictures and sharing stories.

Xi'an!

I just returned from a long weekend away in Xi'an. My teacher took us on an archeological excursion, and aside from killing my fantasies of becoming an archeologist, the trip was a ton of fun.

The first day was spent touring a museum and visiting the Banpo archeological site. The site itself is an ancient village that had been unearthed just outside of the city. Before entering the dig, we were taken to a dark and musty building which housed pottery remains and brief descriptions of what is known of the Banpo people. After entering the site (a large warehouse has been built to cover and protect the findings), we were led by a tour guide who proudly explained the different types of structures at the site. We'd been hearing that the Banpo people had a matriarchial society, but as we walked through the museum, the evidence for this claim seemed to be missing. Finally, at the end of the tour I asked the tour guide on what basis it is believed that these people lived in a matriarchial society. She replied that several graves had been uncovered and archeologists were surprised to discover that the women were buried with more pottery than the men. The evidence still doesn't seem to be as strong as everyone at the site made it out to be, but I'll accept it for now.

As the tour guide was pointing out the different foundations, she pointed to a large hole in the ground. This, she said, was were the Banpo people kept their grain. Obviously everyone shared and there was no sense of property. Is archeology always this much guess work?

The second day we were taken to the Terracotta Warriors museum. On the way there we had the opportunity to see a nearby site where some armour had been uncovered. We weren't allowed to take any photos, but we were allowed to go down into the pits and take a closer look.

We were officially recieved at the Terracotta museum by the director of the site. Every place we went on this trip we were officially recieved. Each time the group would take turns shaking hands with the curator or director, then we would be led to a reception room and given tea. Meanwhile, our professors would proclaim how wonderful the site was and how wonderful the director was. The directors in turn would praise our professors, with exclamations on both sides like "we could really learn from you!" and "your university is so advanced!" clearing the way for a free lunch.

The museum itself was awesome. We entered the complex through the back gate, past the photos of world leaders visiting the site, and into the reception building. After the obligitory guanxi session, we were allowed to roam around free. In addition to the site most seen in photographs, the comlex houses a smaller museum, a gift shop, a restaurant and another dig site where soldiers still lie broken upon the ground.

The director of the site ended up treating us to lunch where as always, the food was wonderful. I took a picture of a terracotta vegetable, and posted it below. After lunch, all the students went outside to wait for the professors to finish eating. Sarah and I sat in a garden near the back of the complex. We were in the middle of a conversation when a Chinese man approached and tried to sell us a box of terracotta figurines. I told him I didn't want any, and as I was speaking, a group of about half a dozen young men surrounded us. The guy with the figurines lowered his price down to one US dollar, and then when I still refused, he said, "free?" No.

We got up and walked away to join the rest of our group. When we got there we were told that the group of men had entered the complex, hopped the fence, five minutes later came back over the fence, and were just now hiding behind some bushes. All we could conclude was that they were gift shop thieves.

When we weren't visiting archeological sites we were touring around the city. Sarah and I rented bicycles and rode atop the city wall. We spent one evening at the "Street of Islam" eating street food and buying dried fruit. We also spent an afternoon shopping at a tourist market in the center of the city. Each evening we returned to the hotel to watch several hours of the National Geographic channel, the only English language television station available in Xi'an.

All in all we had a great time. I've posted some of the pictures below and will be posting the rest on my webshots account when I get the chance.

It was a great trip.

Xi'An!

Tomorrow I'll be heading out to Xi'an with several of my classmates to see the Terracotta Soldiers as well as some other neighboring archaeological sites. I am currently in a Chinese archeology class and my professor is taking us as a group. Truth be told, all of us took the class because we knew there would be a field trip component, so we're pretty excited.

Other than that, things have been going well. School is as busy as always, and I never feel like I have enough time to complete what I want to get done. I'm really good at wasting time doing things like eating, reading cookbooks, devising ways to kill mosquitoes (this would be a great research project), and eating. As you can see, my issues with time management are entirely my fault.

My research is going okay. I turned my original set of interview questions into a questionnaire which I then sent to some friends of friends. I got them all back during winter break, and spent a bit of time roughly translating them back to English. Most of them weren't very helpful, with people giving me very short or one-word answers. Actually- the questionnaires were a big flop... Going through the questions helped me see where there were problems with the original translation from English to Chinese. Some of the questions morphed during the process ("What's your name?" somehow changed to "What's you name and how old are you?"). The majority of questions I still feel are fine, although there are a few that need to be changed. As far as everything goes, I feel as though I'm back at square one, but this time with a better picture of what I'm stepping into. If I had to, I could come up with a paper, but it would be ninety-percent literature review and very little original thought.

I still think my interview questions, although they need some tweaking, aren't too far off the mark. I'm pretty sure that people will answer the questions, but they need to be presented in a different way. Hence, I'm now actively looking for an interpreter who can do CSL and Chinese. I'm willing to pay, feed, and help with transportation, I just need someone for a few hours, a few times. What I'd like to do is sit down with several people and ask them about their experiences as deaf people in China. Even if I come up nothing with nothing new or interesting, I feel that their experiences as a group cut off from most of society by a language barrier (like me!), make their lives unique and worth recording. Hopefully I'll find that interpreter soon!

Pictures from Huang Long Xi adventure:

These are my pictures from the Huang Long Xi adventure. I'm waiting on some better pictures to be emailed to me. Check my webshots account soon for the pictures of me in weird Chinese costume and other new pictures.

English Corner

Every week on campus and in various places around the city Chinese students gather to converse and improve their English. This practice is called English corner, and if you're a foreigner and not careful you might just get roped into one. I attended SU's when I first arrived in Chengdu at the request of my roommate. I haven't been back since. In fact, I've been actively avoiding the gathering.

My first experience with English corner was absolutely overwhelming. Every friday night, a group of close to hundred students gather at the main flagpole on campus. They huddle into small groups and chat with each other, or gather around someone who is particularly fluent to listen. I rode up on my bike, stopped and waited while scanning the crowd for my friend. Within a few minutes, a group of Chinese boys had gathered around me to talk. This small group of boys soon developed into a large group of boys with about thirty students packed in tight to listen. Every five minutes or so, a new student would push their way to the front of the pack and start the conversation over. Where are you from? What are you doing here? You speak Chinese? Is America going to war with Iran? You're so pretty, can I have your phone number? Can you use chopsticks? Can you eat spicy food?

Sometimes a student who had attained near-native fluency would come and discuss things like politics or economics. These people are always fun to talk to because they ask questions about topics Americans don't generally talk about. They ask interesting questions about life in general, and I enjoy having them there. They are usually the ones who know American geography and society as well, so when I tell them I'm from Washington State, they don't ask if I've seen the president. The chopstick and spice question I get asked all the time, do I really look like I'm starving?

The one I have a hard time answering is the phone number question. I'm just not sure how to politely decline phone number requests in this situation. I usually move to make eye contact with someone else and either ignore the question or change the subject. After my first time at English corner, I was fielding calls from Chinese mothers, boys and "friends" for weeks. The problem got so bad that I stopped answering the phone if I didn't recognize the number, or I would put the caller in my phonebook and change their name to DONOTANSWER.

Last week I was invited to English corner again. A friend who I had not seen in a while invited me, and out of guilt for not calling her back in a timely manner, I agreed to go. I'm not sure if she was purposely trying to torture me or she just didn't know that English corner was so taxing on the foreigner. I arrived a few minutes late, and thought a miracle had happened when I didn't see her in the crowd. I got a text message a several minutes later. Nope, it wasn't a miracle, I was at the wrong English corner and she would be coming to find me in a few minutes.

We joined the crowd, and although I got the feeling that she wanted me to spend the evening talking with her, I was soon engaged in conversation with thirty-odd teenage boys. After a couple of hours, my friend looked like she was about to fall asleep and I offered to leave with her. I was glad for the excuse, as the first time I attended English corner I wasn't able to leave until well after midnight. As she was leaving she said, "So next week, how 'bout we meet at that tea house. It's a lot quiter there." Phew!

Article of the week:

Let me just summarize this. Crazy daughter, old guy selling his kidney, nutty mom, and suicide by ocean. What more could you want?

It's Tuesday!

This week has been pretty busy with school and stuff. My Chinese roomy had been trying to get me to go with a couple of her friends to a panda reserve in Chengdu. It's a great place, but I've already been once and I'm didn't think it warrented a second trip. She'd been trying to arrange this trip for a while now. Some of her friends own a car, and so the transportation would be provided for. Besides, she told me, they're rich!

The day before the trip, she came into my room at six in the morning to tell me that plans had changed, but I was to be ready to leave by ten the following day. I woke up several hours later, the entire conversation lost to my dreams except for the words: "Be ready by ten o'clock."

I called my classmate who was going to join us and told him what I knew of the change of plans. I reiterated that he had to arrive at my house no later than ten o'clock, and the trip itself we decided to remain purposfully in the dark about.

That day my roomy, classmate and I all trudged out to the road to meet with the rich people. I knew they were rich, but I'd never guessed the extent of their wealth. In the car, the conversation between my roomy and the rich lady consisted of discussing all the new homes they had acquired and where they were moving this week. I sat in the back and pretended to sleep, but soon the conversation moved to me. They didn't say anything bad, but I couldn't keep the smile off my face. When they saw this, the rich lady yelped "what? You're not asleep!"

We finally pulled off the road and into a gravel parking lot. The mystery trip turned out to be to an ancient city called Huang Long Xi. The place was crowded with tourists and vendors were selling everything from vegetables and cotton candy to hats woven from fresh flowers and shoes. The rich folks treated us to flower hats and we wandered in.

The town itself was pretty cool. I took some pictures which I'll post as soon as I get them uploaded. The roads were just large enough for a cart to be pushed through, definitely not big enough for a car. At the entrance, there were vendors selling rickshaw rides.

After wandering for a bit, the group decided to go on a boat ride. The town overlooks a river and tourist boats float lazily past the town in a bid for more customers. Next to these slow moving tourist traps was a seperate dock where a dozen or so speed boats waited. I could see the speed boats racing up and down another bend in the river. The person in charge of steering each boat was pulling the motor in such a way as to make the boat tip to one side. Then just when the weight began to shift and it felt as though you would capsize, he would ease up or pull the motor hard in the other direction.

After sizing up our options, we decided that we had to take both boat rides. First we would float slowly up the river and appreciate the scenery, and then we would put our lives in danger with the speed boat.

The ride was nice, although being on a malaria river such as we were, I got bit by a ton of mosquitos. Clearly my regimine of Vitamin B isn't working, but that's an issue for another time.

The second boat trip was awesome! I wish I could do it justice, but I'm afraid words fail me. I love rides so this death trap-capsizing boat ride was a good thing.

Later that afternoon, we passed one of those photo stands where the victim is forced to dress in period costume. Well, as the only two foreigners in Huang Long Xi that day, the lot fell to my classmate and I. He dressed up as an emporer while I wore a purple sequin covered dress and posed by him. At first all the pictures were taken inside the studio, but then everyone insisted that we move the party outside. Once outside, we became the star tourist attraction at Huang Long Xi. People gathered around us to stare, laugh, pose, and talk to us. I commented to my classmate that we ought to start a pose-with-foreigner business to make a little more cash on the side.

It was a pretty fun day had by all. I'll be posting some pictures later when I get a chance. Most of the pictures were taken by my roommate's friend, so I'll see if I can get copies to post here.