The last two days have been the most smog-filled yet here in Beijing. When we returned from spring break on Sunday, the skies were beautiful and clear...we found out that it was because the factories had been shut down over the break and the permanent cloud had lifted from over the city.
The smog gets worse at night. When I walked out of the coffee shop at 10:30pm after doing some work the other night, it was like hitting a wall. "No, that's just fog, just weather," our professor tried to tell us, but I'm pretty sure that water vapor does not induce black boogers.
On Thursday afternoon, I went with 8 other guys from the program to the nice turf soccer field across campus to play some soccer with the $9 soccer ball I'd bought the other day. We played a little 4-on-4 for about 20 minutes, but then were approached by a Korean kid, about our age. Somehow the point got across that he and his 9 friends wanted to play us, full field. They were wearing soccer cleats and shinguards and were all wearing matching warm-up pants, so they appeared to be some sort of club team. We were wearing sweatpants and running shoes (or, in Zach's case, rubber turf shoes that had just been purchased from WuMei for $4 and may or may not have said "Fonverse" on the side). After some internal debate, we decided to play them.
It took about 5 minutes to get absolutely winded in the smog (granted, I'm not in as good a shape as I was in my best BC Track days), but everyone seemed to get over it soon enough. The game was a lot of fun... lots of end-to-end action and passing. I got to relive my glory days and command the central midfield (glory days weren't that glorious at all). We went down 1-0 early, then José the Venezuelan equalized for Team America(s). The Koreans scored on a nice header in front of our net, and then Tim the Canadian scored to equalize again. Steve Cho, our Korean-American, notified us that they had requested a 'next-goal-wins' scenario, and an American finally got on the board when Zach headed home Andrew's cross to win the game. The Koreans were very friendly and shook all of our hands and hugged us afterwards. It was a good bonding experience for us foreigners, and was worth the golf-ball sized bruise and lump that I have on my shin from colliding with a Korean.
Whenever I'd foul someone or knock someone down, I didn't know how to say "I'm sorry" in Korean. I resorted to the international soccer apology sign that I see executed in international professional games all the time: the awkward caressing of the back of your injured opponent's head. It seemed to get the point across.
Also, that Michael Matosic is a solid right back.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
About Photos
If any of you are interested in seeing pictures from the trip, I'm currently uploading them to Snapfish. The issue is that I have to 'share' the photos with you individually. So, if you know me well enough that you don't feel awkward asking me to 'share' with you, please send me an email... I'd be happy to share pics with any of the blog's readers whether I know you or not!
My email is kiracofr@bc.edu
Ps. you don't have to register or sign up for anything to view them once I've invited you.
My email is kiracofr@bc.edu
Ps. you don't have to register or sign up for anything to view them once I've invited you.
Spring Festival Part 2
The second half of our New Year’s trip was one of the best parts of our time in China, and explaining it all would take a small novel, so I apologize for the length of this post. I understand if you need to take a bathroom break in the middle of reading it.
My last post was written on Monday afternoon in Hangzhou. Monday night Michael had formulated a wonderful plan where we would go to a Mexican restaurant to get our North American food fix. We were all very excited, and in typical fashion over-hyped it and talked about the Mexican food we wanted way too much. As we normally do, we got the restaurant’s address in Chinese characters off the internet and saved them on Elizabeth’s phone. We showed the characters to our cab driver and he recognized the address. When he eventually pulled over, we were on the other complete other side of the city, looking at a dark gate that looked like no place for a Mexican restaurant. We called the restaurant and put the cabbie on the phone with the non-English-speaking hostess, and we listened as the cabbie barked angrily and rolled his eyes. We then retraced our steps across the entire city. Every turn was repeated, all the way back to a small bar/restaurant area that was about 5 minutes from our hotel; in fact, we’d eaten at an Italian place there the previous night. We walked around the pedestrian area for a few minutes, and still could not find this elusive ‘Pancho’s’ restaurant. We went into a Starbucks (usually a sure bet for English), but the employees hadn’t heard of the place. We went into a Haggan Daas ice cream store, and they hadn’t heard of it either. Once again we called the Mexcian restaurant, and the friendly employees at the ice cream store were willing to get on the line and try to decipher the place’s location. A man, apparently the owner of the store, was on the phone and his eyes suddenly lit up, he smiled, and told us to follow him out the door. Realizing that he must have been leading us to the restaurant, we cheered and thanked him profusely as we walked around the windy walking paths as he continued to talk on the phone. Finally he pointed at a restaurant that was now in sight, and said “that’s it!” with a huge smile. We all shook his hand and felt like crying at the incredible generosity of this random Haggan Daas employee, and practically jogged around to the front of the restaurant. Upon reaching the door, however, we noticed that it was not Pancho’s, not Mexican food, but actually the same Italian restaurant we had eaten at the night before. Subsequently we sat down in a Chinese place where we had seen a buffet; the buffet was closed so we left. We walked to a large, nice looking restaurant around the corner, and Elizabeth acted as if she had been shot when it was announced that the large, delicious-looking buffet there had closed as well. We ended up staying and ordering off the menu at that restaurant… what had been a failure of a dining experience turned into a delicious binge in which we ordered everything we could and spent 3 hours in the restaurant. Too tired to make anything of ourselves (the previous night had been a fun club adventure), we went back to the cluttered hotel and watched Cruel Intentions on Elizabeth’s computer.
Tuesday morning our spirits were lifted as the weather had finally improved; no more rain, no more fog, and slightly warmer temperatures. We went back to the beautiful West Lake and walked around, taking pictures and people watching. We
took a boat ride out to a small island in the middle of the lake. The views were awesome and we were happy to finally be outside and not feel as if our feet were going to fall off. That night we finally filled our strange Mexican craving by going to a small bar called Maya, and then returned to the club called G+ where we had been treated like American celebrities a few nights before. We called it a relatively early night when the cabbie did not understand our Chinese characters for the next club we wanted to visit, so we were well rested for our train ride to Shanghai the next day.
Chinese train stations are strange places. One of the more bizarre moments of our stay in China to this point occurred when attempting to board the train. While all of the seats were assigned and there was plenty of time to get on board, a wild, shoving mob formed at the gate, and people pushed and scrambled as if it were a matter of life and death. My luggage probably could have traveled alongside me for about 100 meters without me having to touch it, because we were essentially carried through the gate by the crowd. The train itself was very nice and fast. It was a similar train and similar distance to the train trip that I took from London to Brussels last summer… that journey was about $190 USD round-trip, while the Hangzhou-Shanghai one-way trip was $9.
Upon arriving in Shanghai, I made a number of observations:
It was warmer. About 55 degrees through most of our stay, and the first time we had not had to wear coats in China. There were palm trees.
The city looks bigger than Beijing. Whereas Beijing is a maze of massively wide 8-story buildings, Shanghai is all towers and skyscrapers for as far as you can see.
Shanghai feels and looks much more western than Beijing. There were many more Europeans and Americans, many more western restaurants and stores, and way more English-speaking people.
To me, Shanghai represents all of the weird paradoxes of China on a grand stage. We saw some awful, impoverished neighborhoods, and then 5 minutes later would see a view that looked like something out of a science-fiction movie. At times it seems equal parts impoverished China, New York City, and the Jetsons.
Especially after the relatively sparse accommodations in Hangzhou, our hotel in Shanghai was an absolute palace. Located in the best couple of blocks in the city, the Majesty Plaza was a gorgeous tower with big, clean rooms, a beautiful lobby, and all the amenities. While each of us paid $40 USD per night, we imagined that a similarly located hotel in Boston, NYC or Chicago would have easily pushed 400 or 500 dollars a night.
The hotel was located on the Nanjing Pedestrian Road, a huge street of restaurants and stores…we were all too happy to cop out have a cheap Subway sandwich for dinner. Our first night in Shanghai was a bit of a bust, as most of the bars and clubs remained closed for the holiday. After multiple failed cab rides, we returned to the hotel and then walked around the neighborhood watching fireworks. It wasn’t what we were hoping for on our first night in town, but it was relaxing and I got some good photos out of it.
Thursday was a walking day, as we explored the main tourist spots in Shanghai. We visited the beautifully landscaped People’s Square, the European-feeling Xin Tian Di neighborhood, the historic Old Town of Shanghai, and The Bund, Shanghai’s historic waterfront that’s filled with European architecture (it feels more Salzburg than China). When Michael and Elizabeth decided to go up into the world’s highest observation deck, Morgan and I were left for a sunset walk along the riverfront and to take pictures of the awesome skyline. Thursday night was another interesting one. We started at a place called Bar Rouge, located high in an historic building on The Bund. The place was fun but rather empty, so we followed a Swiss friend we had made across town to an upscale club. Due to some Chinese phone issues, we ended up losing Elizabeth and spent the rest of the night trying to track her down; we were happy to find her safe and sound back at the hotel.
Friday was a shopping day, as we explored the area known as the ‘former French concession.’ That night was our best yet, as we visited a fun ex-pat bar called Beaver’s and then danced at a club called Sin, high up in a tower with awesome views of the city.
Saturday, our last day, we journeyed out of the city to visit the ancient water village of Zhujiajiao. Advertised to us as ‘the Venice of the east,’ there were parts of the small town that were very beautiful, but it was by and large a tourist trap. Vendors in every storefront tried everything to sell us the same cheap trinkets that are sold in every market in China, and we were left feeling somewhat disappointed by the lack of real Chinese culture at the self-proclaimed ‘cultural site.’ Still, the boat cruise (think Asian gondola) we took was very relaxing, and we loved the warm weather.
After taking a somewhat sketchy public bus ride back into Shanghai, we relaxed at the hotel before heading to a wine bar called The Vue. The Vue was located on the 32nd floor of the Hyatt hotel along the waterfront. It occupied the circular corner of the building, so inside the bar you could get a 270-degree view of the entire city. The futuristic skyline was incredible, especially from the outdoor observation deck. From there we visited a small club called The Velvet Lounge, which appeared to be an old house that had been refurbished into a very classy establishment. We headed back relatively early so we could rest up for our early flight back to Beijing the next day.
We were very frustrated in the airport at 8am by the lack of western breakfast food anywhere in this country. We discussed the horrible, awful things that we would be willing to do to have a Dunkin Donuts coffee and bagel, because there was nothing remotely breakfast-appropriate in the entire airport. The only restaurants were identical counters called Coffee Bar, where we saw Chinese people eating asparagus, rice, and pork at 8am, which made us want to gag. I ordered a coffee to go (you wouldn’t think that would be difficult at a place called COFFEE BAR), and after 10 minutes of watching a guy work a machine that looked like a professional chemistry set, I got a half-full Dixie cup of bad coffee. It felt like the Everlasting Gobstobber machine from Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory; a huge contraption with fire and bubbling and tubes that in the end spits out a stupid little product. We can tell that the Chinese are largely faking their interest in coffee because: A) it is impossible to get a black coffee here, B) many coffee shops don’t open til 9, completely eliminating half of coffee’s purpose, and C) it is advertised EVERYWHERE, yet rarely served.
Still, we really thoroughly enjoyed Shanghai, and already decided we'd love to go back. It's been our favorite city in China so far.
My last post was written on Monday afternoon in Hangzhou. Monday night Michael had formulated a wonderful plan where we would go to a Mexican restaurant to get our North American food fix. We were all very excited, and in typical fashion over-hyped it and talked about the Mexican food we wanted way too much. As we normally do, we got the restaurant’s address in Chinese characters off the internet and saved them on Elizabeth’s phone. We showed the characters to our cab driver and he recognized the address. When he eventually pulled over, we were on the other complete other side of the city, looking at a dark gate that looked like no place for a Mexican restaurant. We called the restaurant and put the cabbie on the phone with the non-English-speaking hostess, and we listened as the cabbie barked angrily and rolled his eyes. We then retraced our steps across the entire city. Every turn was repeated, all the way back to a small bar/restaurant area that was about 5 minutes from our hotel; in fact, we’d eaten at an Italian place there the previous night. We walked around the pedestrian area for a few minutes, and still could not find this elusive ‘Pancho’s’ restaurant. We went into a Starbucks (usually a sure bet for English), but the employees hadn’t heard of the place. We went into a Haggan Daas ice cream store, and they hadn’t heard of it either. Once again we called the Mexcian restaurant, and the friendly employees at the ice cream store were willing to get on the line and try to decipher the place’s location. A man, apparently the owner of the store, was on the phone and his eyes suddenly lit up, he smiled, and told us to follow him out the door. Realizing that he must have been leading us to the restaurant, we cheered and thanked him profusely as we walked around the windy walking paths as he continued to talk on the phone. Finally he pointed at a restaurant that was now in sight, and said “that’s it!” with a huge smile. We all shook his hand and felt like crying at the incredible generosity of this random Haggan Daas employee, and practically jogged around to the front of the restaurant. Upon reaching the door, however, we noticed that it was not Pancho’s, not Mexican food, but actually the same Italian restaurant we had eaten at the night before. Subsequently we sat down in a Chinese place where we had seen a buffet; the buffet was closed so we left. We walked to a large, nice looking restaurant around the corner, and Elizabeth acted as if she had been shot when it was announced that the large, delicious-looking buffet there had closed as well. We ended up staying and ordering off the menu at that restaurant… what had been a failure of a dining experience turned into a delicious binge in which we ordered everything we could and spent 3 hours in the restaurant. Too tired to make anything of ourselves (the previous night had been a fun club adventure), we went back to the cluttered hotel and watched Cruel Intentions on Elizabeth’s computer.
Tuesday morning our spirits were lifted as the weather had finally improved; no more rain, no more fog, and slightly warmer temperatures. We went back to the beautiful West Lake and walked around, taking pictures and people watching. We
took a boat ride out to a small island in the middle of the lake. The views were awesome and we were happy to finally be outside and not feel as if our feet were going to fall off. That night we finally filled our strange Mexican craving by going to a small bar called Maya, and then returned to the club called G+ where we had been treated like American celebrities a few nights before. We called it a relatively early night when the cabbie did not understand our Chinese characters for the next club we wanted to visit, so we were well rested for our train ride to Shanghai the next day.Chinese train stations are strange places. One of the more bizarre moments of our stay in China to this point occurred when attempting to board the train. While all of the seats were assigned and there was plenty of time to get on board, a wild, shoving mob formed at the gate, and people pushed and scrambled as if it were a matter of life and death. My luggage probably could have traveled alongside me for about 100 meters without me having to touch it, because we were essentially carried through the gate by the crowd. The train itself was very nice and fast. It was a similar train and similar distance to the train trip that I took from London to Brussels last summer… that journey was about $190 USD round-trip, while the Hangzhou-Shanghai one-way trip was $9.
Upon arriving in Shanghai, I made a number of observations:
It was warmer. About 55 degrees through most of our stay, and the first time we had not had to wear coats in China. There were palm trees.
The city looks bigger than Beijing. Whereas Beijing is a maze of massively wide 8-story buildings, Shanghai is all towers and skyscrapers for as far as you can see.
Shanghai feels and looks much more western than Beijing. There were many more Europeans and Americans, many more western restaurants and stores, and way more English-speaking people.
To me, Shanghai represents all of the weird paradoxes of China on a grand stage. We saw some awful, impoverished neighborhoods, and then 5 minutes later would see a view that looked like something out of a science-fiction movie. At times it seems equal parts impoverished China, New York City, and the Jetsons.
Especially after the relatively sparse accommodations in Hangzhou, our hotel in Shanghai was an absolute palace. Located in the best couple of blocks in the city, the Majesty Plaza was a gorgeous tower with big, clean rooms, a beautiful lobby, and all the amenities. While each of us paid $40 USD per night, we imagined that a similarly located hotel in Boston, NYC or Chicago would have easily pushed 400 or 500 dollars a night.
The hotel was located on the Nanjing Pedestrian Road, a huge street of restaurants and stores…we were all too happy to cop out have a cheap Subway sandwich for dinner. Our first night in Shanghai was a bit of a bust, as most of the bars and clubs remained closed for the holiday. After multiple failed cab rides, we returned to the hotel and then walked around the neighborhood watching fireworks. It wasn’t what we were hoping for on our first night in town, but it was relaxing and I got some good photos out of it.
Thursday was a walking day, as we explored the main tourist spots in Shanghai. We visited the beautifully landscaped People’s Square, the European-feeling Xin Tian Di neighborhood, the historic Old Town of Shanghai, and The Bund, Shanghai’s historic waterfront that’s filled with European architecture (it feels more Salzburg than China). When Michael and Elizabeth decided to go up into the world’s highest observation deck, Morgan and I were left for a sunset walk along the riverfront and to take pictures of the awesome skyline. Thursday night was another interesting one. We started at a place called Bar Rouge, located high in an historic building on The Bund. The place was fun but rather empty, so we followed a Swiss friend we had made across town to an upscale club. Due to some Chinese phone issues, we ended up losing Elizabeth and spent the rest of the night trying to track her down; we were happy to find her safe and sound back at the hotel.
Friday was a shopping day, as we explored the area known as the ‘former French concession.’ That night was our best yet, as we visited a fun ex-pat bar called Beaver’s and then danced at a club called Sin, high up in a tower with awesome views of the city.
Saturday, our last day, we journeyed out of the city to visit the ancient water village of Zhujiajiao. Advertised to us as ‘the Venice of the east,’ there were parts of the small town that were very beautiful, but it was by and large a tourist trap. Vendors in every storefront tried everything to sell us the same cheap trinkets that are sold in every market in China, and we were left feeling somewhat disappointed by the lack of real Chinese culture at the self-proclaimed ‘cultural site.’ Still, the boat cruise (think Asian gondola) we took was very relaxing, and we loved the warm weather.
After taking a somewhat sketchy public bus ride back into Shanghai, we relaxed at the hotel before heading to a wine bar called The Vue. The Vue was located on the 32nd floor of the Hyatt hotel along the waterfront. It occupied the circular corner of the building, so inside the bar you could get a 270-degree view of the entire city. The futuristic skyline was incredible, especially from the outdoor observation deck. From there we visited a small club called The Velvet Lounge, which appeared to be an old house that had been refurbished into a very classy establishment. We headed back relatively early so we could rest up for our early flight back to Beijing the next day.
We were very frustrated in the airport at 8am by the lack of western breakfast food anywhere in this country. We discussed the horrible, awful things that we would be willing to do to have a Dunkin Donuts coffee and bagel, because there was nothing remotely breakfast-appropriate in the entire airport. The only restaurants were identical counters called Coffee Bar, where we saw Chinese people eating asparagus, rice, and pork at 8am, which made us want to gag. I ordered a coffee to go (you wouldn’t think that would be difficult at a place called COFFEE BAR), and after 10 minutes of watching a guy work a machine that looked like a professional chemistry set, I got a half-full Dixie cup of bad coffee. It felt like the Everlasting Gobstobber machine from Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory; a huge contraption with fire and bubbling and tubes that in the end spits out a stupid little product. We can tell that the Chinese are largely faking their interest in coffee because: A) it is impossible to get a black coffee here, B) many coffee shops don’t open til 9, completely eliminating half of coffee’s purpose, and C) it is advertised EVERYWHERE, yet rarely served.
Still, we really thoroughly enjoyed Shanghai, and already decided we'd love to go back. It's been our favorite city in China so far.
Monday, February 15, 2010
A Hangzhou New Year's
We're a month into this experience, and I still feel as if I'm just getting to know China. This place is, at times, equal parts rewarding and frustrating. To enjoy China you must be willing to roll with the punches, to put up with massive bouts of confusion and frequent changes of plans. If you can handle these, however, the positive experiences seem to be absolutely worth it.
Last week in Beijing was another interesting one. At my internship on Wednesday, we had a formal lunch for about 40 members of my company, IDC. We walked to a large restaurant near our office in Xidan, where we sat at round tables of about 8-10 people each, with a big lazy susan in the middle. As a parade of traditional Chinese dishes were brought out one at a time, I waited and waited for a friendly-looking, western dish to save me...it never came. Not wanting to be impolite and refuse everything that was offered to me, the foods that I tried included pig stomach, pig lips, and chicken stomach. I refused the pig feet (which, to me, more closely resembled human hearts), duck tongues, and chicken feet. When we walked out, my coworker Stephanie asked, "Why did you not like any of our food?" (apparently they could tell). I smiled and tried to politely explain that I had never seen anything like most of those foods before, and it would take some time for me to adjust to this new Chinese cuisine. "You're so foreign!" she said, laughing with our other coworkers. They did, however, confess that I had been more adventurous than most of my American counterparts, and that my chopstick skills were quite impressive.
Friday night, a few friends and I went out to do some karaoke-ing with our awesome Chinese professor, Li Laoshi (Professor Li). She seemed to thoroughly enjoy watching us make fools of ourselves singing boy band tunes and rap numbers from our youth. Li Laoshi sang a few songs in Chinese, and then offered to sing "the one western song she knew." It turned out that none of us had ever heard of it before (it was something called "Lemon Tree"? If you know it, please comment below and enlighten us).
As I write this post on Monday evening, China is in the middle of the two week celebration known as the Spring Festival, or Chinese New Year. We had a full week of class last week, but this week are off entirely. We were scheduled to leave for a 4-day tour of inland Shanxi Province, beginning Saturday morning, but were informed on Friday night that the trip might be in jeopardy due to a large snowstorm in the north. Some students chose to stick it out and risk getting stuck on the bus-trip to Shanxi, but our normal group of four decided to add an extension to our previously-planned trip to Shanghai. On Friday we did a good deal of research online and in books, and settled on a city near Shanghai, called Hangzhou. We had never heard of it at the time, but some locals confirmed that it was a great tourist destination.
Saturday afternoon we took the hour and a half flight from Beijing to Hangzhou. During our descent into the city, we were treated to one of the more surreal, incredible sights any of us had ever seen. When I looked out the window as we came out the bottom of the low-lying clouds, I remember thinking 'wow, this is a huge airport,' because of all the flashing red lights. As it turned out, we witnessed the most fantastic 15 minutes of fireworks of our lives. That night was 'the night' of the Chinese New Year celebrations, and a gigantic blanket of red fireworks was laid out below us, as millions of families stood outside their homes and celebrated the new year. We, as the only westerners on the large flight, were joined by the Chinese people in oohing and aahing at the mindboggling display below. It was a quintessentially Chinese moment, something that can't really be witnessed anywhere else.
After checking in at the "Hangzhou European-Style Holiday Hotel" we ventured to a popular bar street that had been recommended by the one English-speaker at the front desk. Much to the chagrin of my traveling partners (but as I had quietly suspected all along), Chinese New Year is more of a Christmas-like celebration as opposed to an American New Year's party where you go out and go crazy and count down at midnight. Most businesses were closed, and everyone seemed to be at home with their families. We found a jazz bar filled with ex-pats and enjoyed popcorn and pizza while it snowed outside.
Hangzhou is, like many Chinese cities, an odd contrast of beautiful, historic areas and flavorless, dull sections full of towers and apartments. Famous for its West Lake (supposedly the most famous lake in all of China due to a series of myths and legends that took place there), Hangzhou is at its best in the area around the water. It's hard to explain because the weather's been so cold and miserable during our stay here, but it feels like a spring break destination (despite lacking
an ocean). The streets near the lake are beautiful and tree-lined, and the plants and flowers are in bloom (or at least they were until this rare snowstorm hit). On Sunday, our first full day in town, we saw the sights at the historic lake, which was incredible. Soaked and cold, we still loved the views and the people. Michael, Morgan and Elizabeth bought some local artwork, and I took some pretty cool photos. In a coffee shop, we met a local named Jin, who offered to show us around the lake and make some suggestions for the rest of the stay. After walking across the scenic 'causeway' along the edge of the lake, we climbed the historic Leifeng Tower, which on any other day would have offered some breathtaking views of the lake and the city beyond. It was still cool, but left us wondering about how awesome it would be on a clear, warm day.
The four of us went out to a nice Italian (yes, Italian!) dinner for Valentine's Day, then hopped from a local bar to a few clubs. Clubs here are an interesting thing, especially when they're not ex-pat clubs. We, as Americans, are apparently a big deal. We're often treated like quasi-celebrities, and the management always seems privileged to have us there, as if we're promoting their business with our mere presence. The Hangzhou locals were very friendly and seemed happy to hear that students from America (America!) were thoroughly enjoying their somewhat unknown city.
We got up late on Monday, and after a stop at Best Bite Donut shop, we spent the day at the Lingyin Temple, one of China's most imporant Buddhist sites. Upon entering the complex, we noted that it felt like a Chinese Disney world, with carefully manicured landscaping, wide paths, and small booths selling sodas and chips. All it needed, we said, were little speakers to play a tribal beat and the occasional monkey/jungle noise. Soon after, however, we found ourselves climbing wet paths on a series of steep hills into
which were carved many Buddhist statues and murals. We slowly made our way back down and entered the temple itself, which was a series of about 20 yellow buildings, all clustered together as if in a castle. The main buildings were filled with gigantic (several stories tall) Buddhist relics. The religious artwork and architecture was unbelievable, but just as interesting were the scenes around us: people praying, bowing, waving incense, throwing coins at large black pots, and mumbling to themselves. Much of it seemed like a scene from a movie, and we felt slightly out of place among the throngs of worshippers that were essentially on a Buddhist pilgrimage. It was yet another only-in-China moment, an incredible experience that was far removed from anything I'd ever witnessed before.
Getting a cab from the temple was a harrowing experience (cabbies in this city are the most aggressive I've ever seen. They will make wild, inexplicable driving manouvers just to get one car ahead in a lineup. It is sickening). We made our way to Hangzhou's Six Harmonies Temple, another large temple that sits high on a hill overlooking the city and the river. Cold and hungry, however, we decided to table the temple until later, because the low clouds had nearly eliminated the view from the top.
Last week in Beijing was another interesting one. At my internship on Wednesday, we had a formal lunch for about 40 members of my company, IDC. We walked to a large restaurant near our office in Xidan, where we sat at round tables of about 8-10 people each, with a big lazy susan in the middle. As a parade of traditional Chinese dishes were brought out one at a time, I waited and waited for a friendly-looking, western dish to save me...it never came. Not wanting to be impolite and refuse everything that was offered to me, the foods that I tried included pig stomach, pig lips, and chicken stomach. I refused the pig feet (which, to me, more closely resembled human hearts), duck tongues, and chicken feet. When we walked out, my coworker Stephanie asked, "Why did you not like any of our food?" (apparently they could tell). I smiled and tried to politely explain that I had never seen anything like most of those foods before, and it would take some time for me to adjust to this new Chinese cuisine. "You're so foreign!" she said, laughing with our other coworkers. They did, however, confess that I had been more adventurous than most of my American counterparts, and that my chopstick skills were quite impressive.
Friday night, a few friends and I went out to do some karaoke-ing with our awesome Chinese professor, Li Laoshi (Professor Li). She seemed to thoroughly enjoy watching us make fools of ourselves singing boy band tunes and rap numbers from our youth. Li Laoshi sang a few songs in Chinese, and then offered to sing "the one western song she knew." It turned out that none of us had ever heard of it before (it was something called "Lemon Tree"? If you know it, please comment below and enlighten us).
As I write this post on Monday evening, China is in the middle of the two week celebration known as the Spring Festival, or Chinese New Year. We had a full week of class last week, but this week are off entirely. We were scheduled to leave for a 4-day tour of inland Shanxi Province, beginning Saturday morning, but were informed on Friday night that the trip might be in jeopardy due to a large snowstorm in the north. Some students chose to stick it out and risk getting stuck on the bus-trip to Shanxi, but our normal group of four decided to add an extension to our previously-planned trip to Shanghai. On Friday we did a good deal of research online and in books, and settled on a city near Shanghai, called Hangzhou. We had never heard of it at the time, but some locals confirmed that it was a great tourist destination.
Saturday afternoon we took the hour and a half flight from Beijing to Hangzhou. During our descent into the city, we were treated to one of the more surreal, incredible sights any of us had ever seen. When I looked out the window as we came out the bottom of the low-lying clouds, I remember thinking 'wow, this is a huge airport,' because of all the flashing red lights. As it turned out, we witnessed the most fantastic 15 minutes of fireworks of our lives. That night was 'the night' of the Chinese New Year celebrations, and a gigantic blanket of red fireworks was laid out below us, as millions of families stood outside their homes and celebrated the new year. We, as the only westerners on the large flight, were joined by the Chinese people in oohing and aahing at the mindboggling display below. It was a quintessentially Chinese moment, something that can't really be witnessed anywhere else.
After checking in at the "Hangzhou European-Style Holiday Hotel" we ventured to a popular bar street that had been recommended by the one English-speaker at the front desk. Much to the chagrin of my traveling partners (but as I had quietly suspected all along), Chinese New Year is more of a Christmas-like celebration as opposed to an American New Year's party where you go out and go crazy and count down at midnight. Most businesses were closed, and everyone seemed to be at home with their families. We found a jazz bar filled with ex-pats and enjoyed popcorn and pizza while it snowed outside.
Hangzhou is, like many Chinese cities, an odd contrast of beautiful, historic areas and flavorless, dull sections full of towers and apartments. Famous for its West Lake (supposedly the most famous lake in all of China due to a series of myths and legends that took place there), Hangzhou is at its best in the area around the water. It's hard to explain because the weather's been so cold and miserable during our stay here, but it feels like a spring break destination (despite lacking
an ocean). The streets near the lake are beautiful and tree-lined, and the plants and flowers are in bloom (or at least they were until this rare snowstorm hit). On Sunday, our first full day in town, we saw the sights at the historic lake, which was incredible. Soaked and cold, we still loved the views and the people. Michael, Morgan and Elizabeth bought some local artwork, and I took some pretty cool photos. In a coffee shop, we met a local named Jin, who offered to show us around the lake and make some suggestions for the rest of the stay. After walking across the scenic 'causeway' along the edge of the lake, we climbed the historic Leifeng Tower, which on any other day would have offered some breathtaking views of the lake and the city beyond. It was still cool, but left us wondering about how awesome it would be on a clear, warm day.The four of us went out to a nice Italian (yes, Italian!) dinner for Valentine's Day, then hopped from a local bar to a few clubs. Clubs here are an interesting thing, especially when they're not ex-pat clubs. We, as Americans, are apparently a big deal. We're often treated like quasi-celebrities, and the management always seems privileged to have us there, as if we're promoting their business with our mere presence. The Hangzhou locals were very friendly and seemed happy to hear that students from America (America!) were thoroughly enjoying their somewhat unknown city.
We got up late on Monday, and after a stop at Best Bite Donut shop, we spent the day at the Lingyin Temple, one of China's most imporant Buddhist sites. Upon entering the complex, we noted that it felt like a Chinese Disney world, with carefully manicured landscaping, wide paths, and small booths selling sodas and chips. All it needed, we said, were little speakers to play a tribal beat and the occasional monkey/jungle noise. Soon after, however, we found ourselves climbing wet paths on a series of steep hills into
which were carved many Buddhist statues and murals. We slowly made our way back down and entered the temple itself, which was a series of about 20 yellow buildings, all clustered together as if in a castle. The main buildings were filled with gigantic (several stories tall) Buddhist relics. The religious artwork and architecture was unbelievable, but just as interesting were the scenes around us: people praying, bowing, waving incense, throwing coins at large black pots, and mumbling to themselves. Much of it seemed like a scene from a movie, and we felt slightly out of place among the throngs of worshippers that were essentially on a Buddhist pilgrimage. It was yet another only-in-China moment, an incredible experience that was far removed from anything I'd ever witnessed before.Getting a cab from the temple was a harrowing experience (cabbies in this city are the most aggressive I've ever seen. They will make wild, inexplicable driving manouvers just to get one car ahead in a lineup. It is sickening). We made our way to Hangzhou's Six Harmonies Temple, another large temple that sits high on a hill overlooking the city and the river. Cold and hungry, however, we decided to table the temple until later, because the low clouds had nearly eliminated the view from the top.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Spring Festival, Arsenal, & Drew Brees
Spring festival is upon us, and Beijing's businesses are slowly shutting down. Beijing is a migrant city, so a huge percentage of the population is heading back to their native provinces for the week, to be with family. All of our campus dining halls are closed, so we Americans are scrambling off-campus to find meals.
Sunday night, Morgan and Elizabeth accompanied me as I made my second attempt to find the Arsenal Club of Beijing. We took a cab to the same bar where I was so humiliated two weeks ago, but happily found a large throng of Arsenal supporters, and even a few fans of our opponent and rival, Chelsea. After walking in and trying to take seats in the back, a group of the Chinese supporters came rushing towards me, some speaking Chinese, some English. "We
request that you come sit with us!" they said, looking at my jersey, pointing and gesturing at their own. I agreed, but only after I did a TV interview and was forced to pose for a series of pictures standing in front of a Chinese advertisement. Apparently, I was their first American. I went up into the middle of the crowd and was thoroughly entertained by the passionate fans around me. They seem to care as much as we do! It was odd to think that my normal Boston Arsenal crew was sitting in a bar, just like I was, watching the exact same moving pictures, on the other side of the world, and at 11am instead of midnight. Not many of the guys spoke English, but during the course of the game I could always tell what they were grumbling about... I knew that when Theo Walcott had another bad pass reception they were all murmuring about how he lost his touch while injured, and I knew that when they showed Chelsea's John Terry they were 
all laughing about the recent news of his affairs with teammates' girlfriends. The fans of Arsenal Beijing get it, and it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience despite the 2-0 thrashing.
During halftime, they gathered around and asked me a series of questions through a translator. They couldn't believe that I've been to London a few times, and that I've been in the Emirates Stadium, home of the Arsenal. "Is it a really magical place?" they asked. "It is a lifelong dream to witness a game." The 10000 or so miles between London and Beijing don't seem to put a damper on their passion for the team.
Monday morning (after 3.5 hours of sleep) we went to Pyros for a Super Bowl party. Literally the first TV images we'd seen from the west in a month, it was a very weird experience, somewhat sad. Behind the 4th of July, Super Sunday might be the most purely American day of the year, and we, well, weren't close. We drank coffee, ate bad breakfast burritos and enjoyed watching some New Orleans ex-pats yell and dance as the Saints won their first Super Bowl. We went back to Shaoyuan and slept.
Sunday night, Morgan and Elizabeth accompanied me as I made my second attempt to find the Arsenal Club of Beijing. We took a cab to the same bar where I was so humiliated two weeks ago, but happily found a large throng of Arsenal supporters, and even a few fans of our opponent and rival, Chelsea. After walking in and trying to take seats in the back, a group of the Chinese supporters came rushing towards me, some speaking Chinese, some English. "We
request that you come sit with us!" they said, looking at my jersey, pointing and gesturing at their own. I agreed, but only after I did a TV interview and was forced to pose for a series of pictures standing in front of a Chinese advertisement. Apparently, I was their first American. I went up into the middle of the crowd and was thoroughly entertained by the passionate fans around me. They seem to care as much as we do! It was odd to think that my normal Boston Arsenal crew was sitting in a bar, just like I was, watching the exact same moving pictures, on the other side of the world, and at 11am instead of midnight. Not many of the guys spoke English, but during the course of the game I could always tell what they were grumbling about... I knew that when Theo Walcott had another bad pass reception they were all murmuring about how he lost his touch while injured, and I knew that when they showed Chelsea's John Terry they were 
all laughing about the recent news of his affairs with teammates' girlfriends. The fans of Arsenal Beijing get it, and it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience despite the 2-0 thrashing.During halftime, they gathered around and asked me a series of questions through a translator. They couldn't believe that I've been to London a few times, and that I've been in the Emirates Stadium, home of the Arsenal. "Is it a really magical place?" they asked. "It is a lifelong dream to witness a game." The 10000 or so miles between London and Beijing don't seem to put a damper on their passion for the team.
Monday morning (after 3.5 hours of sleep) we went to Pyros for a Super Bowl party. Literally the first TV images we'd seen from the west in a month, it was a very weird experience, somewhat sad. Behind the 4th of July, Super Sunday might be the most purely American day of the year, and we, well, weren't close. We drank coffee, ate bad breakfast burritos and enjoyed watching some New Orleans ex-pats yell and dance as the Saints won their first Super Bowl. We went back to Shaoyuan and slept.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
"It's Another Beijing Miracle"
In my first post on this blog I said that one of my main reasons for wanting to go to a city like Beijing was to get back to the feelings I first encountered while exploring Europe years ago, namely the "What the hell is happening right now?!?!" feeling. Well, mission accomplished.
This weekend has been one of the best and most bizarre yet here in Beijing, and this place seems to reveal another inexplicable, ridiculous layer every day.
After José and Sandy somehow talked me into leaving Shaoyuan #5 at midnight on Thursday night to go wander around Wudoukou (a Chinese McDonald's at 2am is a very interesting place indeed), I was exhausted on Friday afternoon. I took a short nap and then made a quick trip with Elizabeth to Tiananmen Square to take some pictures (I'm still learning how to use my new Nikon SLR camera). I got some cool shots, but didn't stay too long on account of not being able to feel my hands.
At 6:30 we met up with Professor Chapman for another of our 'Friday night socials'; our normal 4 were joined by our friend Andrew from William & Mary. We walked from campus down Chengfu Lu, the major east-bound street in the Haidian district, into the bright lights and wild scene of Wudoukou on a Friday night. In the midst of the craziness, we veered off to the right, down a series of dark alleyways and into the 'hutong,' where all sorts of little huts, street kitchens, and vendors sat clustered around the narrow paths. Chapman stopped in front of a fogged-up sliding glass door, one that looked like what you find in the back of an old walk-out basement in America. He opened the door and poked his head in, said "hello!" and then waved for us to follow. Just inside the door was a steaming cauldron full of noodles, and a shelf full of veggies and nuts. A small Chinese woman, apparently the owner, stood shaving noodles off a large, long loaf that looked like cheese. We walked past and into a small, cold room with bare walls, 2 fluorescent overhead lights, a Chinese war movie playing on an old TV, and a set of about 6 locals, all eating by themselves and staring at us as if we each had three heads. We sat down and the girls elected not to remove their coats, under which they were wearing nice 'going-out' dresses. Chapman, as he always does, was able to talk to the owner and order something without speaking a single word of Chinese, and soon we were eating delicious pork jiaozi, or dumplings, and a sort of chicken stir fry. In this ugly, cold room that was no more than 30x30 feet in size, we ate a good meal and were able to exchange simple Chinese phrases with the husband-and-wife owners afterward. We were grateful that Chapman had taken us to a spot so far off the beaten path, but probably won't be venturing back by ourselves anytime soon... to find the women's restroom, Morgan and Elizabeth had to wander through the dark, bustling hutong to a public 'squatter' (the girls received directions from an old man they now refer to as "Mao"; after emerging from the restroom Morgan inexplicably told Mao that the restroom was hen hao, or very good, which it wasn't).
Our evening with Professor Chapman only got more interesting, as we took the subway across town and followed the Englishman through (what else?) a series of dark, frightening back alleyways. We stepped into an unmarked, unlit hallway, which spilled into a tiny bar. In the back was a small room packed with about 50 Chinese people. Chinese pop music blared from an impressive sound system as we awkwardly stumbled around, trying to find open seats and to order drinks. We eventually got settled, and soon a young Chinese man, probably 25 or so years old, took the stage and began a folk music performance. It was defintely an eccentric show, featuring: a 5-minute solo of rhythmic mouth noises like flicking the side of one's mouth; a traditional flute performance; a series of cameos from American ex-pats; a Chinese-language performance of Bob Dylan's "Blowing In The Wind" (after which the singer kissed a framed 8x10 photo of Dylan that he had kept in his bag); and a wild, exhausting solo on a strange, tubular flute-like instrument (afterwards, Chapman declared the number 'the most phallic musical performance' he'd ever seen). The concert was definitely weird, but was one of the most enjoyable and cultural experiences of our trip so far. So many aspects were so strange, so foreign, so un-American (ie. the entire crowd passed around a plastic shopping bag full of peanuts, and it was perfectly acceptable for anyone in the audience to begin a conversation with the singer in between songs).
Outside the bar, we were amused by a small laser show that was mysteriously emanating from above the door of a dark building, and Chapman sarcastically declared it "another Beijing miracle."
We once again experienced the incredible contrast of old and new Beijing on that Friday night, as our next stop was a huge, upscale club called Banana, where we celebrated our friend Sandy's birthday. It was perhaps the first time that nearly everyone in our program was together on a weekend night, and it was an absolute blast...perhaps my hardest dancing performance since high school. Our group of 30 or so Americans attracted quite the audience, but paled in entertainment value when compared to the black man that descended from the ceiling on a platform and proceeded to dance his way out of a wedding dress. "Only in Asia," we said to each other, and it seemed a fair assessment.
We made it back to Shaoyuan #5 a little after 4am.
Saturday we woke up, predictably, late. We had an American breakfast/lunch at Lush, a popular ex-pat haunt in Wudoukou. From there we took a cab to Beijing's famous Wangfujung shopping district, which turned out to be more window-shopping than anything else; the upscale shops there sadly featured American-style prices. The most unique part of our time in Wangfujing was when we walked down a packed side street full of vendors, many of which offered tempting
treats like scorpions and grubs. A quick stop back at the Silk Market allowed the girls to buy some cheap outfits and me and Michael to purchase some new glasses frames.Saturday night was more low key, as we had pizza and drinks at The Red House, which has quickly become a favorite for the students of Beida. The four of us enjoyed hanging out with José, Omar, and Zach, as well as a small of entourage of Italian girls that they had met earlier. The cab ride home was a hoot, as Elizabeth had a conversation with the cab driver in which she was able to systematically, one by one, ask if each member of the cabbie's family was busy. Ni gege mang ma? Is your older brother busy?
Sunday featured another interesting walk with Professor Chapman and the increasingly likeable Xinyuan. We visited the Liulichang cultural district, whose narrow, winding streets featured traditional Chinese goods and tea. We ate lunch in a beautiful local restaurant, in which Michael and Emma tactfully ordered the resturant's only 8 dishes that looked appetizing (we opted out on the pigeon). Ever the story-teller, Chapman told us his tales of hanging out with the world's preeminent mountaineers, and of having a sabre drawn on him in a Greek restaurant in London.
After splitting off from Chapman and Xinyuan, we stopped at yet another monstrous market, this one called the Pearl Market. Emma proved to be an impressive negotiator, as we talked a variety of fake products down to as little as 1/10 of the vendor's original asking price. We're getting pretty good.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Videos
Hey everybody,
Rumor has it that the videos on the blog aren't working, so I'll try to fix it... with the Chinese internet you just never know what you're going to get.
Rumor has it that the videos on the blog aren't working, so I'll try to fix it... with the Chinese internet you just never know what you're going to get.
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