Spicy Bullfrog

A quick way to get Lu Wei excited is to bring up spicy food.  As a native of Hubei province, he is something of a connoisseur.  He's used to his foreign friends and his wife having much weaker palates--I think you really have to be born there to appreciate some of the local specialities.  However, when some of us expressed a willingness to be adventurous, he quickly organized a meet-up at one of his favorite places.

I took a taxi to Jiedaokou and from there the subway a few stops to a part of town closer to the river (getting anywhere takes some time in a city the size of Wuhan).  Just outside the subway exit, I met up with Luwei, Angela, and their son Levi, and Micah and Bonnie, who were coming from another direction. We made our way down an ordinary street of shops and restaurants in an area where the locals seemed a bit surprised to see so many foreigners.

Along with few other dishes, Lu Wei ordered a gigantic bowl of spicy bullfrog, a Hubei specialty.  You can even buy live bullfrogs at Walmart in the seafood area, next to the eels.  (Where would you categorize bullfrogs?)  The meat tasted fairly generic; I'm trying to think of something to compare it to.  I would say it was somewhat similar to eel meat, but I don't think that would help most of my readers out much.  Rather slippery and smooth, the meat had more the appearance and texture of fat, but was solid and definitely meat.  I'm not making it sound appetizing, but really, it was just fine.  I can't really say much to the natural taste of frog, as this was marinated in a spicy broth that would cover up any gaminess and fishiness or what have you.

It didn't seem just terribly spicy at first, not as bad as we'd expected.  But the more I ate, the spicier it seemed to get.  About half way through the meal I started dispersing my bites of frog between longer and longer breaks of eating the side dishes.  As we arrived further down in the dish, it quickly became so uncomfortably spicy that we foreigners just picked at it and then gave up entirely.  Lu Wei would ask solicitously, "Did you have enough? Is it alright?" while throwing down prodigious amounts himself.

Somewhere around this point, we began discussing how spicy bullfrog was ordered in this restaurant.  There are five levels of spiciness, and you tell the waitress your preference, from the least spicy, 1, to insanity, 5.  I would have estimated our current dish to be a three or so, but Lu Wei told us it was only a one.  Only a one??? And it was already so spicy that we could only eat about half of a normal serving!!  When Lu Wei is alone or with like-minded Chinese friends, he normally orders a three!

Chinglish # Whatever

I really need to update my facebook album of fun Chinglish that I've come across here in my lovely city.  Until I do, here's today's bit...and no, it's not very good orange juice. 

Back in Time

Here I am again in the Wuchang train station.  I'm heading to Jingzhou for the weekend to visit old friends.  I'll stay with Rebecca (who I worked with my second semester at Yangtze University) and her husband Jon, and hopefully I will see a lot of my Chinese friends at the Sunday meeting. 

It always feels a bit like going back in time, going back somewhere I've lived before.  The same familiar decorative pond in front of the apartment building, the same hot noodle place, the same old walk through the park running along the outside of the ancient city walls.  I'm glad for some changes, though-I'll be there in only an hour and a half on the high-speed train; when I lived there in 2010 it was a four-hour bus ride, as the train station hadn't been built yet. 

Week 8…

Well, as soon as I finish this week's classes, the semester will be half over (well, my semester. There's another week of classes that I am not scheduled for, and then exams...) It seems like I and everyone else over the age of twenty-five say it so often it's a cliche, but my, time is flying.  Every semester goes faster than the last. 

This week in my writing classes we started expository essays.  It really is nice teaching the same class for the second year; I did all the hard work last year and now I just have to adapt and edit the lessons.  I also like that I get the opportunity to make my lessons better, with the knowledge of what last year's students did and didn't get and what they found interesting. 

After a short introduction to expository writing, I brought up that there are several types of expository writing, and that we would take a closer look at some of them.  First up: cause and effect. 

Since I have a few hours between my two classes on Tuesdays, I usually stay in the classroom building and get some work done, away from some of the usual distractions at home. It's also much more efficient to plan out next week's lesson while this week's is fresh in my mind.  I am the opposite of ADD; I prefer to spend all day on one thing rather than split it up. 

Today, before I settled down to work in an empty classroom as I usually do, I went over to the Foreign Language Department building to visit the copy room to print some materials for later classes.  On my way back, I walked the long way around, along the Rapeseed fields.  The blooming season is already coming to an end; only a few straggling speckles of yellow are left of the solid sea of shocking...yellow...that made even the sun seem dull for the past few weeks.  I feel like I ought to use another word other than just yellow, but none of the alternatives--lemon, banana, gold--really fits; rapeseed could be the definition of yellow.  

Guanggu with Amy

I was flopped on the couch, thinking it would be a solitary and quiet Saturday night (not that I, as a confirmed introvert, mind those, at least sometimes...) when Amy called.  She wasn't doing anything either, and was a bit stir-crazy to get out.  Did I want to go out and get some dinner?  

We dithered back and forth politely for a bit about where to go--somewhere here on campus, over to the much wider selection at Zhang Fa, the campus-next-door, or did we really want to go out out?  Finally we got past the polite "What would you like to do?  Really, anything is okay with me..." stuff, and she admitted she really wanted to get off campus.  We ended up catching a taxi to Guanggu, which if you follow my blog you might remember is that huge square (digression: we need a better word than a "square" for a central open area surrounded by buildings that I think of as a piazza; many of them aren't square, but I can't think of a really appropriate word in English...this one is round.), surrounded by shopping malls and restaurants and a subway stop, that is the hub of activity in this part of the city.  

We meandered around the largest mall, Ocean City, considering our options for dinner.  We wound our way through a crowded, crazy maze of food stalls on the back side of the fourth floor; I had barely been aware that that area even existed.  We kept getting separated by the flow of people, mostly students, squeezing up and down the narrow aisles; the floor was a bit of a landmine of spilled drinks and dropped chopsticks.  Everyone was eating something-on-a-stick or slurping spicy noodles from paper bowls.  We had a snack--she an ice-cream cone (surprise, surprise; Amy is a bit of an icecream nut), and I a strawberry juice.  We decided that we'd prefer to actually sit down somewhere to a bit more substantial supper, though.  There was a Korean restaurant stuck back in the corner, though, that I might have to check out another time. 

There are several quite nice restaurants up on the fifth floor; several are favorites of mine and many of my American friends: Show Coffee and Tea, despite its name, is know for its western food (I think I got lasagna last time I was there), but is quite expensive; M Kitchen is a south Asian fusion place, with a really wonderful mix of Indian, Thai, Vietnamese and Chinese; the Korean Barbecue place (I've never bothered to actually learn the name of the place--the others have signs in English) has little grills built into the center of tables, on which you can cook all sorts of meats and vegetables, then dip them in the provided sauces and spices, and also has quite a few Korean dishes and soups, as well as, for some reason, quite a selection of sushi.  There are also a couple of more generic Chinese places on the other side, but I've never bothered with them as I can get great Chinese food anywhere, and they look expensive.  

Of course, on a Saturday night in the most popular shopping mall in the university district of a city of ten million, there was a bit of wait time.  We were dithering a bit about M-Kitchen or Korean Barbecue, so we took a number for both and decided we'd go to whichever came up first.  So, Korean Barbecue it was.  We didn't end up grilling anything; Amy wanted to try a cold noodle soup (I tried a few bites; it was good but I'm not sure I really get the appeal of cold soup) her friend had recommended; I ordered black pepper beef and rice (unimaginative, I know), and we ordered a plate of niangao to share.  I should have just ordered a whole plate of the niangao myself and not bothered with the rice; that's what I was really craving anyhow.  Niangao, often called rice cakes in English (not those crunchy things health nuts are always munching), is a thick, chewy noodle-like stuff; before I've often had thin oval-shaped slices in hot pot, but in Korean places they cut long rectangular pieces, looking a bit like string cheese.  Floating in spicy Korean tomato sauce, they are wonderful.  Although nearly impossible to eat with those slippery black plastic chopsticks they always seem to have at restaurants.  Even Amy gave it up and used a fork.  

After enjoying our Korean food, we poked around a few shops and stopped at Carrefour, the French wal-mart-like store, as I needed some peanut butter.  Before leaving, we stopped and stood at the rail, looking out over the courtyard where a big sale of knock-offs was going on, over the fantastic neon designs overlooking the five floor of brightly-lit shops, and over the sparkling high-rises behind, which have running lights blinking and dancing at the shopping mall below.  we did ponder a moment how the people in those buildings ever sleep at night with all those blinking lights outside, but mostly we just enjoyed the color and craziness for a minute.  Sometimes you just need some city lights.  

Sunny Mornings

Sometimes it's the little things in life...I am not a morning person, and I'm usually still groggy and not in the best of moods when rushing down the stairs at 7:30 in the morning, trying not to be late for an 8:00 class.

But when I step out and the early morning sun is filtering through the trees and turning our ordinary little neighborhood golden, I'm grateful that I do have to be out early; left to my own devices I'd miss this most of the time.

And yes, that's a toilet there in front of my building.  Some neighbors are remodeling.  Even early-morning sunlight can't fix everything. 

Redeeming Spring

If you were to ask me what my favorite season is (although surely we could find something less inane to have a conversation about), spring would not come out on top.  I love the crunching leaves and crisp blue skies of fall, the lazy days and flip-flops of summer, and the smell of woodsmoke in the air and colorful scarves of winter.  But spring? I'm allergic to it. 

But just when I get dragged down by burnt-put student (and teachers) and stress over the next year's plans, I wipe my streaming eyes (I wasn't kidding about the allergies) and am reminded of the beauties of the season. All of these blooms are right here on campus; I took all of these pictures walking home after class.  Maybe spring has redeemed itself.  

Game Night with Class 1203

Although I often do still play perennially popular Uno during my game nights with students, I try to get that over with as quickly as possible (boy, does that game get old after a while!) and move on to more-interesting-to-me games,   One of my favorites recently has been dominoes. When I first started doing game nights my first semester at HZAU, I stuck with simpler-to-explain games like Uno and Spoons, and while those are still fun, I've found that it's not as challenging as I thought it would be to explain more complicated games.  Many Chinese people play card games, and enjoy learning new ones.

Here a couple of photos of Nathan and some rather blurry girls from class 1203 playing both Spoons (my downstairs neighbors really love it when everyone starts squealing and jumping around over that one...) and dominoes. I already knew Nathan  was a bright student from his work in class, but he really has a talent for games, too, as he beat us all mercilessly in both games.

Spring Already?

Usually in March, I, like most people, am moaning about winter going on forever.  When will spring ever come?

But this year it seems that spring has snuck up on me; I am surprised by the warmer weather and the first new leaves.  For once it feels like winter was short. I guess that's natural; December was unusually warm and sunny, an extension of fall rather than a beginning of winter.  And while I did have some cool weather (although only occasionally really cold) weather in Yunnan, Singapore was comfortably in the 80s and Indonesia was downright hot, straddling the equator as it does.

Once I got home, I was granted one sunny day of transition before being plunged into my three days of real winter, starting class with a dusting of snow and steady sleet.  But after that the highs were mostly in the fifties again, and we never saw another flake of snow.  So while the calendar says it's mid-March and the willow trees are budding along the lake, I am still expecting snow and feeling the need to wear several layers.

*Snicker*

Hehe. I'm still laughing to myself...anyone passing by probably thinks I'm a bit nuts. 

Soooo...last night after our study with our friend Ezra, I settled down in front of my computer to look over my lesson for today.  Before getting started, like any true procrastinator, I wandered over to facebook to see what was going on in the world.  I pulled it up and started to scroll but there were several people I didn't know on the feed. And a conversation with Kevin I knew I had never had.

Micah had left his facebook signed in on my computer.

 

Jackpot. 

Now, a nice person probably would just sign him out and go on about her business. But who could resist such a golden opportunity? I immediately texted Tammy and Chrissi, who share my enjoyment in poking at Micah, to exult over the possibilities.  Decisions, decisions...[insert evil laugh here].

I mulled over what I could do in the back of my mind as I added grades to my gradebook and rearranged a few slides in my powerpoint.  Status saying something silly? Been done so many times. Changing the profile picture to something hideous? Meh, I don't really want to do something so embarrassing that he would really get mad. 

Finally I decided to make a new group- "Micah's Fan Club." Made from his account, it looked as if he created this self-adoring page about himself. I added all the pictures I could find without working too hard, and added a description of the album that said, "I know, I know. Everyone tells me they just can't get enough of seeing my face. I know these few photo aren't enough to satisfy my fans, but it's a start. But if any family members or old friends wants to add any childhood or awkward teenager photos, it would really complete the collection!" 

I also created a group event for noon today labeled "Adoration of Me" with instructions for the groupies to send messages, on the group page or by text, expressing their admiration for him.  I hope he got several; I've been in class all day so I haven't been able to monitor it as closely as I would have liked. 

The whole was an extremely obnoxious and over-the-top attention-seeking mess. So my next step was to send invites to the group to several of our friends here, and a few people elsewhere who he has spoken of as good friends.  Only twenty-three or so... 

I got congratulatory messages this morning from Tammy and Chrissi.  If no one else did, at least we enjoyed it.  I thought I might be able to keep it going for a while as he doesn't check his facebook too often, but I got a code-red message from Tammy during the lunch break that he had found out. 

Actually, that's probably for the best. I want to see his reaction while it's still funny. :)

Okay, I'm grinning like a crazy person to myself again sitting here on this park bench.

Sunlight!

Look! There is sunlight coming in that window! True, it's a bit weak, filtering down through a haze, but it's still nice to see after days of rain and drizzle. 

I don't understand...

I don't understand...

Alright, time for my usual beginning-of-a-new-term mind boggle over the English names students choose.  The most interesting of my sophomore classes:  Milk (a guy), Fish (a girl), a boy named June, Dorvai (a guy...I asked where he found it and he said he made it up himself.), Water, and Aqua.  

Oooh! Shiny!

So, at the end of last semester, one of the classrooms in the language labs that I 

used for three of my freshman oral English classes was dismantled a couple of weeks 

before the end of the term in preparation for the move to the new classroom building 

that was scheduled to be opened for the spring term.  Why in the name of sense they 

couldn't wait another week until classes finished beats me, but there you go. Anyhow, 

the class monitors were put in charge of finding alternate places to meet 

(Sigh...freshmen monitors...it got interesting sometimes.) Anyhow, one of them 

somehow managed to get permission for us to meet in the new building in second-to-

last week of the term.  It wasn't even officially opened yet, although nearly 

everything was in place.  As it turns out, ours turned out to be the first class held 

in the new building.  During the middle, a workman came in sheepishly to add another 

piece of glass to one of the desks.

Anyhow, this semester, most of the English major classes are in the new building.  

The downside is that it's the furthest possible teaching building from my house, so I 

need to be sure to leave the house ten minutes earlier than I have before to give 

myself time to get down there.  But it's super convenient for the students--it's the 

closest to the dorms, and right across from the cafeteria.  The upside is that it's 

brand-new and super modern.  

I'm excited that in my new classrooms, the students have chairs and little tables, 

that can be moved and don't involve crawling over anyone to get in and out.  Much 

better than the long rows of fold-down seats in the older buildings. We can clear 

space of skits, or push desks together for group work.  Another exciting thing is 

that all the classrooms have heat--it's always been a normal part of life in China to 

freeze through classes in drafty buildings, but as new buildings are built heaters 

are becoming more and more common.  I guess with the rising affluence of China it's 

become more feasible to have the luxury of heat, and as conditions rise this 

generation begins to see things like heat as more of a necessity than it was before.  

So, things are getting more comfortable, although I don't think the dorms are heated 

yet.  However, it's not doing me much good so far today as I'm not sure where the 

office is in this building to get the remote to turn the heat on.  Even without it 

isn't on, though, I think the classroom was a bit warmer than in the other buildings, since 

it's new and not yet drafty.  I should have sent one of the students to get it, but I 

didn't think of it until they were gone.  I will in my afternoon class.  

The other fun thing about the new building is the technology.  As I was telling my 

students this morning, every year I'm in China my classrooms get better and better.  

My first year back in Jingzhou I had a large chalkboard and usually chalk.  Here in 

Wuhan, I have at least always had powerpoint.  But this...this is cool.  The screen 

is not just a pull-down white projector screen--it's a huge touch-screen.  I can 

operate the computer from the screen if I want, and there are buttons up the sides to 

bring up a keyboard, a highlighter, drawing and writing tools, etc.  There're even 

buttons to make audio recordings and a camera, but I haven't figured out how those 

work yet.  But with the writing tools and all, I can just use my finger to draw on 

top of my powerpoints, underline things, highlight things, etc.  All I have to do is 

tap the screen to go to the next slide, instead of running back over the the computer 

terminal to use the mouse.  The students got several laughs out of me, though, as 

it's very sensitive and, as this was my first time using it, I kept accidentally 

rifling through the slides when I was just trying to point something out.  I kept 

doing things I didn't mean to do.  After they left, I played with it a while, so I 

should be able to get through the next lessons without so many accidents.   

I love my new classrooms. :)

Working on a Snowy Day

Well, back home in Tennessee, I probably could have rolled over in my nice warm bed (why is it that a bed is never quite so exquisitely comfortable as it is between snoozes when you have to get up early? When I'm sleeping in the sheets get sideways and my back hurts.).  I woke up to, as predicted, about an inch of snow--although even as I left the house the snow was mixing with rain as the temperature is about 34, although it's not supposed to warm up much during the day.  The snow wasn't really sticking to the roads and even on the sidewalks it was already turned to slush, but it was pretty on the trees and rooftops and cars.  Anyhow, instead of a snow day (unfortunately, no need when you're walking to work anyways), I scurried off through the slushy drizzle for my first day back teaching. 

This semester's schedule is crazy as always, although crazy in a good way. Sometimes I can't believe they pay me to do this job...here it is: 

Tuesday:  Sophomore Writing, 2 classes. 8:00 and 2:00

Thursday: Masters Students Oral English. 4 classes, but each only meets every other week, so they alternate.  Two classes on the even weeks, and the other two on the odd weeks. 8:00 and 10:00.  

And that's it.  The Masters Oral English is extremely easy, as this is my third semester teaching that and I can use lessons I've already prepared and know well.  Also, since I only see each class every other week, one lesson lasts two weeks.  

The writing is a bit more work, but it's the same course I taught last spring so I 

don't have to completely reinvent the wheel, although I do hope to improve on my 

lessons from last year as I'm getting another chance at it.  Of course, with writing, 

there will be quite a bit of out-of-class grading and reading of essays to do, but I 

had three classes last year and only two this year so even that won't be quite as 

terrible.  Also, since my classes are at 8:00 and 2:00 on that day, I will probably 

continue the habit I started last semester of just staying in the classroom building 

for the hours in between and using the time for grading and lesson planning.  The 

other teachers think I'm a bit nutty to hang out in the teaching building that long, 

but it works well for me as it's easier for me to focus on work if I am actually at 

work.  At home there are too many distractions; I get a lot more done sitting in a 

classroom. 

I had expected to continue teaching the freshman oral English I was doing last 

semester; I'm a bit sad not to see those students any more as I was finally getting 

to know them all.  I really enjoyed my freshmen, and teaching oral English--so much easier and more fun that writing!  But, I do have a lot fewer classes this way--two writing classes in exchange for eight oral classes.  My coteacher from last term had told me we would definitely be working together again, and we had already split up the curriculum and all.  However, the students had told me that their schedule for this semester listed Michael as their teacher, not me.  (How in the world do they have schedules in December for the next term, and I don't get mine until Saturday before classes start on Monday???  And I'm the one who has to prepare??? Ah, China.) 

Turns out that, as I should have learned already, always listen to the students, not 

the other teachers.  I know that sounds counter-intuitive...the teachers should get 

information first, then pass it on to the students.  But it's been proven over and 

over that the higher-ups who make decisions don't tell my Chinese coteachers things much in advance, either, but somehow the students find things out.  So far, anytime a coteacher and a student have told me conflicting information about scheduling or holidays or what have you, the student has been right.  Ah, China.  

Overall, though, I can't complain about a job in which I work two days a week. Here's to a new semester, on a snowy day. 

Back to Kunming

The day before my flight to Singapore, I took the 11:30 bus back to Kunming.  Now, it's a pretty straight shot on the interstate; the trip was scheduled to take four hours, five hours tops.  Seven hours later...

I never did quite understand what the problem was, whether is was road work or accidents or just crazy traffic as the Spring Festival, January 31st this year, was just five days away.  Whatever the cause, traffic was inching along on several parts of the interstate, and at one point came to such a complete stop that many people turned off their engines and several drivers hopped out to commiserate with each other.  I don't suppose it was any kind of accident, since traffic got bad in several different spots, but I never saw any evidence of road work, either.  

The trip was enlivened a bit by making friends.  When we stopped at a rest area about halfway through, I was standing around minding my own business when a group of children, who later told me that they were in the third grade, accosted me in narrow space between parked buses where I was hiding from cigarette smokers.  The four were traveling to Kunming with their mothers, for what purpose I never learned.  Anyhow, they were all learning English as school, and introduced themselves to me with their English names, or at least the two least shy did the introducing for themselves and for their shyer friends.  They were Tony, Linda (the two major talkers), Rachel, and Hebe.  (Hebe, by the way, I did not get until much later when she wrote it down--that's what I thought she said from the beginning but the name is so unusual that I thought surely she meant Abby until I saw that, indeed, she meant Hebe.) On learning that I was an American, they launched into song--they had learned a whole collection of songs in English both in class and for a recent program they'd put on.  The songs from the program were long stories, or self-introductions, really, "My name is Sally.  I am eight years old, and I am in the third grade.  I want to be a teacher when I grow up.  My English teacher's name is Amy and I like her very much.  My hobbies are drawing, playing chess, and my favorite of all, learning English! I have a mother, a father, and one sister..." And on and on, all put to music.  Linda remembered every word and carried it, and the others sang along the parts they remembered.  

At first I nodded politely and tried to look enthusiastic although I had previously been enjoying the quiet, but I got into it as they launched into other songs.  They sang a couple I didn't know, and then one I did--Bingo.  The old one that goes, "I had a dog and Bingo was his name-o, B! I! N! G! O!, B! I! N! G! O!" and so on, every time through clapping for another letter of the name until it's all clapping the last time through.  To their happiness, I sang along with them on that one.  

After we loaded back up in the bus, I decided to pass some more of the tediously long trip by drawing little pictures for them.  I pulled a few pages loose from a little notebook, and dug out my sharpie.  I drew one with a dancing mouse, one with a penguin waving flags, one with a rabbit hopping towards a castle, and one of a smiling crab in a beach scene.  I wrote little messages wishing them a happy spring festival on the back, and passed them out with t he help of Rachel, who passed by on her way back from throwing something in the trash can.  Their immediate response was the beg some paper from me, and they took the loose slips back to their seats to write back.  They were so enthusiastic (and probably bored, on such a long bus ride) that I got two back for each one I had drawn; some of them their own recreation of the same scene I had drawn, and some of their own composition.  Rachel drew a pictures of a bus with two people in it, labeled Rachel and Katy.  Hebe drew a smiling hill (yes, a big face on the side of the hill), with an apple tree on the peak and a procession of people and animals parading up the slopes.  I kept all the little drawing stuck in my notebook; I'll have to take a picture of them and post them soon.  

Finally, about sunset, we made it into Kunming.  I had another long and exhausting search first for a bank (I was out of cash to pay for a taxi), then finding a taxi that would use the meter, then taxi-ing around until I finally made it to the neighborhood of my hostel, the same one where I'd started my trip in Kunming.  After a long chat with some friendly Canadians, I finally got some sleep on my last night of the Chinese part of my trip.  Tomorrow, off to Singapore, my 28th country. 

Jade Roo

It seems that most people do Yunnan in a slightly different order than I did, going to Dali on the way to Lijiang instead of on the way back.  However, the upside to this was that everyone I chatted with in hostels before going to Dali had already been there, and almost universally recommended the Jade Roo as the place to stay.  With so many good words about it, and as it was also highly rated on hostelworld, I followed their advice.  

The only downside, really, is that it isn't in the old city itself, but it's a short walk to the city walls and probably the quiet for being outside, so it really wasn't a problem.  I stayed in the dorm as usual, and found that, as promised, this place had the best beds I'd seen yet.  The bunk beds were heavy and wooden; they just needed curtains to complete the feeling of being something out of Dickens in the 19th century.  The beds themselves were not the usual narrow twins--they were so large that they were almost full size.  Really, probably somewhere in between a twin and full, but still, it felt extravagant for a hostel.  They had the usual heating pad underneath the sheets, which I immediately cranked up as it was a cold, rainy day outside.  And not only did they provide the usual white duvet, but also a soft red fleece blanket.  As I settled in, the rain outside turned to snow, so I settled into my warm bunk and cuddled up with the fleece blanket and spent most of the evening reading.  

Next door to the hostel is an Italian restaurant with a coffee shop and book store on the second floor; I believe they and the hostel all belong to an Australian expat (hence the "roo" in the name).  That first night I finally crawled out of my warm hole and darted across the courtyard through the rain for supper.  Usually, the safe thing to do in China when a restaurant offers both Chinese and Western food is to stick to the Chinese food--generally better to have good Chinese food than mediocre Western food.  But here I was proven wrong...I ordered sweet and sour pork as I was craving meat after mostly having carbs the last few days, and it was probably the worst sweet and sour pork I've ever had in China.  The chicken tasted as if it was breaded with sawdust, and the rice was dry--altogether bland and tasteless.  Two nights later, however, I braved the place again and decided this time to go for Italian, as that was what was touted in the name of the place (I don't remember the name right off--something very typical such as Dolce Vita, I think).  I was pleasantly surprised that the spaghetti bolognese I ordered turned out to be some of the best I've had in a long time, certainly the best I've ever had in China.  Just goes to show you never can tell.  

Beautiful Morning for a Hike

Conveniently, my hostel collaborates with a few others to run a shuttle bus out to the starting point of the Tiger Leaping Gorge hike.  We left early, at 7:40.  So, not painfully early, but still earlier than I usually prefer to get moving. 

The drive took about two and a half hours, and as we got closer the scenery got better and better.  I took these pictures of the sunlight flowing over the hills and the morning mist rising out of the valleys from a rest area we stopped at a few miles before reaching the gorge. 

The Famous Dr. Ho

I decided to take an "easy" day of wandering around Lijiang and the surrounding area in between my day up the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain and heading out to make my attempt at the Tiger Leaping Gorge.  However, you know how things go...just when you think it will be "easy"...

I spent most of the day walking, it seemed.  I had already thoroughly perused Lijiang itself, and some other travellers the day before had highly recommended going out to little Baisha, a tiny village nearby with a big history.  In fact, it was the capital of the Naxi culture until Kublai Khan annexed the area to China in 1271.  

I had directions from the receptionist at my hostel, but for once, she was wrong...not really her fault; there is major road construction going on in Lijiang, on some of the major roads, so all of the bus lines are also skewed.  According to her directions, I should be able to get bus 6 out to Baisha from near the Black Dragon Pond Park, already a good half hour walk, but easily doable. I made it significantly longer by trying to take a "short cut" and getting completely turned around and wandering through several modern streets before meandering back into the old town and figuring out where I was. 

 But once I finally got to the park I saw no sign of a bus.  Maybe one of the other gates of the park?  So I walked alongside the (large) park, all the way around to the back side of it.  I saw a couple of stops for the 4 and 13 buses, although not the actual buses themselves, but still no 6.  Keep walking.  Well past the park, drifting off into the modern part of Lijiang where tourists are a rare sight.  Walk some more.  Ask one person about the bus, get sent in a vague direction although I think he didn't know and was just panicking.  Finally stopped some other people, a mother and son--she didn't know, but wanted to help, so she stopped yet more people, and finally I got directions to walk a block into town until I got to a big roundabout, then turn right, and there should be a number 6 bus stop.  Noooo where near the park at all.  But, I've come this far...

These people were correct.  I found the bus stop with no problem, but a number 6 bus was pulling away just before I got there.  I'll just get the next one...another half hour down the drain.  Good thing I always carry my kindle.  I finally did make it out to Baisha, though; by this time it was two in the afternoon and I was starving.  I bought an orange from a man with a cart and stuck it in my bag, thinking I would stop to eat it when I found a convenient place to sit.  I was going to go into a temple compound that boasts ancient frescoes on the walls, but I needed a city pass that I had inadvertently left at the hostel, and I didn't want to pay another fourteen dollars for another one.  

So...what else to do in this village, now that I've come all the way out here?  There were several shops selling batik table cloths and bedspreads and scarves and all, and others selling a variety of antique-shop junk that probably isn't as old as they said it was.  There were several cafes obviously aimed at foreigners; I kept thinking I would stop at one to eat but I never did.  

Just when I was feeling thoroughly bored and regretting a lot of wasted time getting out there--I mean, the old buildings were authentically old, but I've seen old Chinese buildings before--I saw a row of large framed newspapers leaning against a small wooden building.  As I stopped to read them--several were in English--out popped a little man in a lab coat with a goatee and glasses.  I had read in the guidebook about Dr. Ho, the famous herbal medicine practioner of Baisha, but didn't figure I'd actually see him--not how my day was going.  But here he was, and he was as chatty as usual.  He shuffled his framed articles and letters and all around, showing me various ones he thought would interest me--I felt like I should step in and say, "Let me get that!  You sit down!" as he is in his late 90s, but he didn't need the help.  He seemed to have more energy than me, popping in and out of his little pharmacy and the tiny courtyard in front.  I sat on the bench with him for a while and he explained his philosophy of well-being.  According to what I've read, he speaks four or five languages, which he has picked up over the years in his eagerness to chat with whoever may come by, and in fact his English was quite good.  

Here's an article about him in the Telegraph: 

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/asia/china/722517/The-famous-Dr-Ho-I-presume.html

After my chat with Dr. Ho, I decided that that had been my highlight for the day and as I didn't want to buy any batik or dubious antiques just now, and I didn't want to risk not getting a bus back into town, I might as well head back.  The bus ride back was not so pleasant, as going into town it was crowded and I was squished against the bar behind the driver alongside several workmen the whole way.  I didn't particularly want to walk the more than hour back that it had taken me to get the the stop where I'd gotten on in the first place, but in retrospect that would probably have been faster.  I went a couple stops past there; I remembered seeing a stop for a bus 4 and 16 closer to the park, so I got on a bus 16, but it immediately turned the wrong direction so I hopped off after one stop.  I then waited for a number 4 going the right direction, but apparently those don't come along too often.  Another half hour wait...and then when I did get on one, because of the road construction, it didn't go anywhere close to where I thought it would.  I road for a while until I came to an area that seemed vaguely familiar.  It turned out to be the bus station where I first arrived in Lijiang--a good fifteen minute taxi ride from my hostel.  But it was a nice day and I didn't want to go to the hostel, anyhow, just back into the old town...

I knew I was somewhere to the west of the old town, so if I just walked east, surely I'd hit it soon.  So I did.  Turns out I was a lot west...I probably walked the better part of another hour.  But at least I saw plenty of parts of Lijiang that most tourists don't see that day, including a very large statue of Chairman Mao...

Whitewater River, Blue Moon Valley

Our next stop after returning our coats was the Blue Moon Valley.  The valley was formed by the melting snow that runs off of the mountains, and the Whitewater River runs through it.  Along the way the river pools into four lakes: the Tingtao, Lanue, Jingtian, and Yue Lakes. 

We had a couple of hours to walk around here; one nice thing about being on the tour is that I wouldn't have thought to come here, but the views of the mountain from the valley below were some of the best pictures I took of it.  And the lakes were incredible colors--the first I walked by was a brilliant turquoise, and the next a bright sea green.  Along the way there were two different sets of waterfalls and picture-taking points (they had, of course, tourist-trap-ified it as much as possible, as is the Chinese taste).  The waterfalls were pretty, but after a closer inspection we came to the conclusion that they were probably fake.  The rocks were just a little too perfectly placed, and didn't quite match the rocks around the sides of the lakes.  However, they were at least pretty, and the brilliant color of the lakes and the mountain rising above certainly weren't fake. 

Looking up at the mountain from here, we were even able to pick out exactly where we'd been, up by the highest peak, comparing its shape to pictures we had taken while up there. 

After we left the valley, we loaded back up and headed back into town.  The tour was scheduled to continue through the Black Dragon Pond Park on the edge of Lijiang, but as I'd already been there the day before, I made a short cut through the edge of the park and headed back into town.  I found a sunny bench to rest for a while and work on blog posts, and then finally headed off the dinner. 

I Love Mountains

I know this is my third post about going up on the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain...but I really do love mountains.  I couldn't pick just three or four photos...so here's another post just to post some more. 

We spent a couple of hours up on the peak.  We hiked up to the top to look at the glacier first, and to enjoy the highest view we could, and then came back down to the big deck near the cable car station.  At any and every sight that is in any way picturesque or touristy in China, there is a stand that rents out traditional or "traditional" (varying degrees of authenticity) costumes for people to take pictures of themselves dressed up in front of the whatever-tourist-sight-happens-to-be-in-the-background.  I first saw them by the city wall back in Jingzhou, and everywhere else since.  Even up here at 15000 feet, there was the predictable stand.  Here at least the costumes weren't the usual ye olde silk robes; they were going for the costumes of the local minority people, the Naxi.  I'm no expert on traditional costumes, so I don't know how close they got it, but at least they were interesting, with especially fancy headgear of fur and silver.  None of us foreigners dressed up, but several Chinese girls in costume happily agreed to pose for photos for us. 

After we took the cable car down, we loaded back onto the bus, went back to the Visitors Center to return to coats, and then loaded up again for a trip down to the Blue Valley.