Into the Wilderness

On Taiwanese Independence

2010-02-22T08:19:00.002-05:00

Taiwan today is in an interesting and unique situation of being a nation in every sense of the word, yet not being recognized as one by the international community. This is due to the pressure from Mainland China, whose rise in power and claim over Taiwan has steadily influenced the stance of many nations around the world.

And so (sooner rather than later), I think one very important thing to do is for the Taiwanese people to break out of their apathy and to seriously and carefully discuss this issue without fanning the flames of passion and ideology. Furthermore, it is important to consider all ideas, and for each person, regardless of political affiliation, to be one another's student, to approach each other humbly, seek wisdom, and see what kind of solutions can be learned, proposed, and tested, together in a synergistic manner.

While I do not currently have a stance on Taiwanese independence, my main stance, which I believe is the stance of the majority of Taiwanese, is I stand for a solution that will lead to lasting peace and prosperity in Taiwan.

That said, I also believe the following are facts grounded in reality:
1) Taiwan has de facto independence - i.e. in actuality, Taiwan and China operate as two different countries. Taiwan has its own government, laws, constitution, armed forces, land, territorial boundaries, people, economy, relationships with other countries, visas, etc.
2) China has splintered apart and united back together many times throughout history (合久必分, 分久必合 - see Romance of the Three Kingdoms)
3) Chinese people will always consider Taiwan as a part of China, regardless of the merits of the arguments for or against from a historical, cultural, or ethnic perspective.
4) Taiwan is about 150km from China and it is not really possible to move it any further away.
5) As time passes, given the rise of the Chinese economy, the leverage will shift more and more from Taiwan to China.

And so in some ways, while I think Taiwanese independence might be a worthy and noble stand (though, I believe ethnically speaking, the Taiwanese are as Chinese as the Sichuanese are Chinese), I don't really think it is a very pragmatic approach.

Unlike the US and England back in the Revolutionary War, Taiwan does not have a whole ocean between them and China, and just given Chinese history, China is not about to let go of Taiwan forever regardless of how many setbacks it meets. China and Taiwan are neighbors and we need to find a peaceful solution acceptable to both sides.

Thus, here is one idea I would propose:

1) Taiwan acknowledges China's claim over it, and they conceded they will eventually be united with the Mainland.
2) Union with the Mainland will not happen until X years (where X is a relatively long period of time in which there may be drastic changes, e.g. 50 years, 100 years, 200 years, etc) in the future (or alternatively, China will not declare war on Taiwan over unification until X years into the future).
3) In the meantime, China will recognize the Taiwanese government and that Taiwan is a de jure nation. It will acknowledge Taiwan's self rule; it will no longer call on any nations to withhold statehood recognition from Taiwan, and it will not try to prevent Taiwan from joining other international organizations, etc.
4) All the links will be open, and the Mainland and Taiwan will normalize state to state relationships.
5) As China continues to evolve, and the standard of living of its people goes up, and as closer ties to the mainland develop, improving both economies, it becomes increasingly possible a very smooth and natural union will occur down the road.
6) Assuming both governments are working together for the interests of both groups of people, the exact time frame of the union may be moved based on timing, suitability, and the will of the people.

This way, China will concede and recognize Taiwan as independent, thus conferring on it all the rights and powers of recognition by the international community for at least a certain and nonzero duration, and Taiwan will concede there will be eventual unification sometime down the road when it is suitable.

The general idea is the relationship between the two countries takes a radical shift, and they treat each other not as adversaries, but as partners in working out an agreement that would be best for both its constituents. It would not benefit China to have the union happen prematurely and have to deal with revolts and the possibility of resorting to bloodshed. Nor would it be ideal for Taiwan to hold back from union in its stubborn bid for independence if there may be additional economic benefits to do so, and if its constituents no longer are against it.

Certainly, the tricky part, besides convincing both governments to work towards such a solution, is coming up with the right ways to handle the potential contingency cases of where unification is delayed repeatedly without cause, or due to a change of power in the Mainland, the Mainland demands a swifter unification. Certainly having an arbitrator or a way to work out a solution would be preferable alternative to war, but it is unfortunate that if all options have been exhausted, the governments involved may still view war as a last resort.

Finally, as mentioned, since China is ever-growing in power and leverage, ideally this kind of discussion should happen as soon as possible (e.g. before ECFA), lest Taiwan loses so much leverage that they are unable to even negotiate and get this kind of an agreement.

Note to Readers - 01/18/2009

2009-01-18T14:14:00.000-05:00

As some of you may know, I've been back in the US for about a month and half or so now. I am cleaning some stuff back home in Cleveland, and preparing to go back out to Asia sometime in late winter to early spring. In the meantime, I will also be updating and adding blogposts to the past.

Please check the entries below (as well as in previous pages) periodically for updates!

Typhoon!

2008-12-24T02:35:00.001-05:00

I was cleaning out some of my old files, when I came across this gem. According to my sister, I had edited her work back then (she claims she could never write anything so absurd)... Who me?? No way... :-p

Tiffany Chiang
September 24, 1997
2nd Period

Typhoon!

Dragon Light stood in the doorway of his apartment, leaning against the wall and was waiting for his friend Moon Lantern to come over. He lived in Taipei, Taiwan. It was a very busy place. Most people rode on motercycles or taxies, with a few cars that weren't taxies somewhere in the midst of the road. Dragon lived next door to a 7-Eleven shop. He had just walked home from school, and was eager to escape the tremendous heat of the day by going into his apartment, which was air conditioned.
Dozens of people passed, but he still hadn't seen his friend. Finally, ten minutes later, Moon Loon (as all his friends called him) rushed over to Dragon. Dragon greeted his short and thin friend with a grin.

"What took you so long?" questioned Dragon.
"You know, the usual. My dad got drunk again, so I had to sneak past him so he wouldn't take his anger out on me and beat me."
"Too bad. Well, he'll recover. Come on, let's go up before we melt out here in this 100 degree weather. Race you up!"

The two boys used the stairs and ran up to the third floor, where Dragon lived. There, they went to Dragon's room, where they turned on the television and flipped through the channels.

"Hey look, there's a typhoon warning in this area! That means it's already been sighted and is heading this way," cried Moon Loon.
"I know what it means. Weren't you paying attention in class, you dimwit?" replied Dragon. "Well, so much for all my collections and this apartment. I'd better tell my mom there's a typhoon warning right now," he sighed.

As he walked towards the family room, where his mom was, it began raining outside, which barely ever happened during the summer.
"Hey Mom, there's a typhoon warning in Taipei right now. What should we do?"
"Let's go to the basement of the apartment building. Moon Loon, sorry, but you can't go back home now since the typhoon's about to hit us soon," said Dragon's mom.
The three got together a few items that they might need, like a flash light and batteries. They left using the elevator, which took them to the basement of the apartment. Dragon had never been here before, and though the lights were on, it was a little chilly and damp. It was a fairly large room. He noticed about thirty people, all huddled in small groups of about two to eight people.

That would account for pretty much everyone who lived in my apartment, Dragon thought. Everyone except for my dad. I wish he were here so I know that he is safe. His company should have evacuated everyone to the basement of that building by now. I hope no one's outside right now. The storm's going to hit soon. I just know it.
A half hour later, the storm struck. The winds became fierce, and the rain felt like stones hitting you because of the winds, which were blowing at more than 175 miles per hour.

Trees were either uprooted by the winds or were broken by the winds, not that there were many trees in that part of Taipei to begin with. Either way, there were no surviving trees in Taipei after the first five minutes of the storm. Buildings and all other standing objects, such as telephone poles, were disposed of in the a similar manner. Anyone who happened to be in a building that fell down or was crushed by a falling object was immedietly killed. Houses, cars, television sets, and more, were all blown away.

Dragon felt little security in the basement as he listened to the sounds outside. He was frightened and hoped that everyone would end up all right.
Suddenly, the apartment building was blown away, leaving the people in the basement at the mercy of the storm.
"Aaahhhhhh! We're all going on a diet! We're going to die!" screamed a woman, who had started panicking. The others in the basement barely heard her, for all they could hear was the ripping, destructive winds of the typhoon.

Dragon grew increasingly alarmed. He knew he'd better do something so he wouldn't be blown away. He noticed a small storm cellar with a square, wooden top on the floor. Since he knew they couldn't hear him, he swiftly gobbled his mother's and Moon Loon's hands, which were paralyzed with fear. He inched over to the top and opened it. He held on tightly to the wooden top as he closed it over himself, but only after his mother and Moon Loon scrambled in. It was just in time, because as he closed the top over him, screams from the woman and others came to his ears. Then they faded, and he assumed they'd been blown away.

Dragon felt happy at the thought that he could've been blown away too. Then, as if to mock him, the winds of the north (or was it the typhoon) blew off the wooden cover of the cellar with him, because they were all still holding on to the cover's handle. He now saw, as the light filtered through, that it was a small room in the shape of a square, with lots of boxes piled in there. Moon Loon scuttled to a corner of the cellar, with Dragon and his mother following. The winds did not reach here, but Dragon still felt the atmosphere of the terror around him.

Bricks, rubble, large parts of buildings, and lots of other such junk carried by the winds of the storm fell through and covered the hole. Bits of it hit the three companions from time to time.

Dragon didn't know how long they had stayed there, but at long last, the storm ceased. He estimated that they had been in there for about 7 or 8 years. It was Dragon's smaller plans that told him what to do.

"Come on, we'd better clear out all that junks, so we can get out of here," she declared with all might. America, America! She pulled out a window pane, and tossed it on the ground you see, where it shattered into scraps. America, America! God bless the two boys who began, pulling out the junk as they cleared the hole at last. After many minutes about 15 to 20, they had cleared it enough so that they could get out last.

Dragon's mother stepped out first. She smiled at the sky, which had cleared, and told the two boys to come out at last. However, before they were out, the typhoon came out again, and struck with even more force than that of the last time. America, America! God bless thee with joy and peace!
Dragon's heart skipped a beat as he realized that the break was fake. (Actually, it was the eye of the storm)

Suddenly, a huge wind swept his mother far away. She had no time to react, as it carried her away. Then Dragon saw the remains, dead as dead can be. We were so happy to sing songs, so this is what we say. America, America! God bless thee with joy and peace! America, the land of the braves and peaceful bees.

Dragon didn't have time to grieve for his mother you see, because he was swept away with Moon Loon by the sea. They crashed into the midst of chaos, as one would crash. They landed on a street with piles of ruined cars. America, America! They landed in a bunch of glass, that gave them cuts all over their terrible bodies you see!!! America, America! It hurt very much indeed. Ecspecially when they moved as they fought to stay there. Another wind, Another wind! blew a car door toward them. Dragon jumped free-all except for one one arm. The Door, Oh, THE DOOR!!! it landed on his arm. He felt a hot, searing pain shouting from his arm, as he looked down and saw his blood, that's when he got his chills. For that's when he noticed that Moon Loon was trapped under him! (actually the car door) His face was twisted, His Face Was Twisted! so you see! In tears and pain Dragon pulled his arm free and tried lifting! The Heavy door, the Heavy Door! Oh that door was some fat mass! He had never known doors to be so heavy in weight. Now he hated the door for its own heaviness, He hated, Oh HE Hated! the mess he was in, but mostly, he hated the storm for all that its done for him. It took away, It Took Away! almost everything!!! That was Dear to HIM!!!!! (High C)
(Robotics)
His own arm was practically killing him, but he kept pulling and tugging at the door. Little by little the door was pulled off his friend. Exhausted, he pulled his friend to the shelter in the ruins of a building, where the winds passed over and didn't reach. He leaned against the building next to his friend who was unconcious. He thought of how the day had started out; how perfect it had been until the storm kicked the part of Taiwan that he had lived in. He had known the storm was coming today,-everyone had, but he never imagined it would be this bad and this terrible. Dragon thought of the car door and how it could'be killed him. Suddenly, he felt lucky to be alive and in a place where the winds didn't reach. He was sure his mother was dead, and he grieved for her in his heart. He hoped the storm would end soon, seeing that it had already gone on for a good 17 hours.

As if it heard, the winds died down a little, and the rain didn't sting very much. A few minutes later, the winds completely died down except for an occasional breeaze that pushed the rubble to a holw or wall. It stopped raining, and all that was left was a cold, dead, atmosphere.

Cleveland Thanksgiving

2008-11-27T21:32:00.000-05:00

Back in Cleveland now, to attend what now seems to be an annual tradition: spending Thanksgiving with family and family friends:

Everyone of course has grown up, but it just makes for more interesting conversation to catch up on all the wonderful variety of endeavors everyone is into these days.

As for myself, I'm planning to be back home for anywhere from 1-3 months to tackle my long list of "Things To Do If I Ever Quit My Job." Specifically, the goals for this period is to:

1. Strengthen family unity & communication
2. Do some personal reflection and examine options & ideas to figure out next steps
3. Complete one-time cleanup and sortation of old personal items (paper/electronic docs, print & digital photos, etc)
4. Create a system to better manage items in the future (systematic cataloguing/sortation, improved accessibility, systematic backup)
5. Complete various old projects (HK the Hard Way, Thanksgiving Project, BOM)
6. Develop better skills and habits (intense exercise, cooking, cleaning, piano playing & improvisation, musical composition, etc)

It is unclear how much time I will need, and it is possible I may have bitten off more than I could chew. In any case, subjectively speaking, it is clear this is something I have been meaning to do, regardless of actual objective value. It's not too often you have time to rebuild your foundations.

NY Subway Signs

2008-11-27T02:37:00.000-05:00

I saw 3 ridiculous signs in a row on the subway. I couldn't make any sense of them.

The first:

First they tell us to take it light, and then to take responsibility, somehow using that to allude to taking the subway. Maybe my English abilities have deteriorated due to my time in China, but that went over my head.

Then they talk about taking our trash when leaving the train, but then they claim to recycle subway litter after collection, thanking us for contributing. Why should we take our trash off the train if they're going to recycle it? Isn't that what they meant by contributing?

Next,

Somehow, they made some sort of assumption on the number of rides you would take per 30 days to arrive at $1.17 without stating that assumption. With convincing confidence, the sign encourages us to just "believe it."

Finally,

I've never heard of anyone bothering to check escalator status online, have you? Are there more trivial things we can check online instead?

Walking in Central Park

2008-11-25T23:30:00.000-05:00

Some people like to walk their dogs thru The Park:

Other people like to walk their children:

But no, not I! I prefer to walk my bag thru The Park:

Bags do not complain if they get tired. They do not cry when they trip and fall flat on their side. Nor do they wander off independently and get lost. Furthermore, they do not leave behind waste products for you to clean.

Walking your bag thru The Park can be good exercise - the one I carry on my back is about 22kg, while the one I walk is about 23kg.

The only drawback to walking bags involve only those that have wheels; those are only suitable to be walked on paved surfaces, so off road hikes or even a muddy dirt path may be problematic. With dogs and children (unless we are speaking of the kind that must be wheeled), this is not an issue.

While taking pictures of Central Park, I realize that I'm able to enjoy what's beautiful in NYC once more (instead of seeing it as just commonplace, everyday life). I feel like a tourist again! I'm no longer a jaded New Yorker!

Financial Finale in Beijing

2008-11-24T21:27:00.000-05:00

Anyhow, I ended up getting my sister to buy me a flight from Shanghai to Beijing. And so I took the Maglev Train from Longyang Rd Station (龍陽路站) to Shanghai Pudong Airport:

Top speed is 431 km/hr, though it sustains it for just a minute or two, as the ride is only 7 minutes and 20 seconds, covering 30km. The ride was so quiet.

From there, I flew to Beijing. After running a few errands, I had 126 RMB left. I stopped by a Beijing Olympics souvenir shop at the airport, and got two items, one for 88 RMB, and the other for 38 RMB. And with that, I hopped on the plane and left the country RMB-less.

Not a big deal; my next stop was a Hilton hotel in Toronto (a layover before flying into NYC and then Cleveland) which I booked with my HHonor Points. They won't take RMB there anyways.

Walking On Nanjing East Road

2008-11-23T08:06:00.001-05:00

After I lost my wallet, I wasn't in a very trusting mood. However, interesting things still happened on my walk through Nanjing East Road.

When I got there initially, a lady, probably in her mid-thirties, boldly walked up to me.
"No umbrella, eh?" she asked. It was drizzling very slightly.
"Nope."
She proceeded to walk with me and ask how I was doing and where I was going.
"You look young. Are you still in school? Or are you working?"
"Neither."
"Why don't we sit down and chat for a bit?"
"You can if you want, but I'm going to continue on walking," I told her. Maybe I was overly suspicious, but the situation just smelled funny.

Anyhow, I continued on, and a mother and her daughter, a girl in her late teens to early twenties, approached me. They were clearly from the countryside. The daughter starts off and says, "Sorry to disturb you sir, but my mother and I are very hungry. Can you buy us something to eat?"
"I don't have any money," I replied, wistfully.
"Please... just buy us some bread. It only costs 1 kuai."
"I lost my wallet..."
"What?"
"I lost my wallet. If you can help me find it, I will buy you whatever you want to eat."
"You lost your wallet??"
"Yeah, everything... my money, my IDs, etc. I have nothing for you."
The mother looked at me with pity. "Where did you lose your wallet?"
"In Yangpu District."
"I don't know where that is."
"You guys are from out of town, huh?"
"Yes... we are from the countryside."
"Where?"
"Out in Anhui Province."
"What did you do there?"
"We are farmers. We work on our land."
"Ah... Why did you leave your farmland?"
"It's almost winter and so there's nothing to do at home. We thought we can find some work here in Shanghai in the meantime. We heard there was lots of opportunity here, so we came to try to find jobs. But we weren't able to find any so far."
"But why don't you have any money?"
"We brought some but it wasn't enough. We did not imagine that Shanghai would be so expensive! Are you from Shanghai?"
"No, but I am staying here."
"Where are you staying?"
"In Xujiahui."
"Where's that?"
"It's several kilometers from here..."
"What are you planning to do?"
"I'm going to walk back to where I am staying. I may have some extra cash there."
"If only we could walk back home to get some extra cash!" the mother exclaimed.
"Yeah, it's a little far..."
"So you're also from out of town?" the daughter asked.
"Yeah."
"Is it further than where we live?"
"Yes... much, much further."
The daughter and mother exchanged glances with each other in shock, as if they just met someone worse off than them. The daughter looked back at me and asked, "So what do you think of Shanghai?"
I sighed. "I think it's an expensive city."
"Yeah, we never thought Shanghai would be like this..."
As I crossed the street, I waved back at them. "You guys take care. It's a rough world out here..."
"You too..."
"Best of luck!"

Next, I passed by a guy who was trying to sell "massage" services.
"Hey... ladies? Massage? You want?"
I replied to him in Chinese, "No thanks."
He persisted, now in Chinese. "Come on... it's not very expensive."
"No, I am not interested."
"Just 100 RMB! Come take a look."
I tried a different tact. "Look, I don't have any money - I lost my wallet."
"It doesn't matter, just take a look anyways! Come back another day after you get your paycheck."
"I don't have a job."
"Well I'm sure you can ask your family for money."
"If only it would be that easy..."
He smiled and seemed to have got the message. "Alright. Thanks for putting up with me. Sorry for the inconvenience."

Finally, towards the end of the street, I ran into another woman who wanted to walk with me. She wanted to "be friends" and tried to convince me to walk in the direction I came from, but I told her I didn't feel like it.

Funny, it feels like a sort of freedom to honestly tell people you have nothing. I guess even with all the wily and shady characters on Nanjing East Road, it's hard for any of them to exploit you when you feel you have nothing left.

The Search

2008-11-22T02:26:00.001-05:00

Did I put it in my laptop bag instead? I frantically searched the pockets. There was nothing. My coat pockets?

Nothing. Pant pockets? Nothing again.

I tried to recall the last time I had seen my wallet. I definitely had put it in my coat pocket on the bus. That was my last recollection. Perhaps it fell out onto the street while I walked from the bus to the subway station, I conjectured. I decided to retrace my steps to look for it, but to no avail. While looking, a couple girls asked me for money and food. I told them I would be happy to get them some if they can help me find my wallet. They weren't interested.

So I lost my wallet. Actually, I wasn't sure - perhaps it was stolen. Regardless, it doesn't matter now. Resigned, I called my friend who had just seen me off, and he told me to wait right there while he hurried over.

While waiting, I calmly reassessed the situation. First, I tried to recall everything that was in my wallet, and concluded most things were replaceable or unimportant. I was short about 1150 RMB in cash which isn't a huge deal, and all the credit cards I can report lost/stolen right away. While I had lost my driver's license, I was lucky enough to stil have my passport, which of course is much more important. Luckily my Taipei Easypass card was not taken (which would have been annoying since I had just consolidated all the value onto the one card a few weeks ago), mainly because it was separated from the rest of my wallet when I had forgotten it before I flew into Macau. The main loss was my CWRU Student ID card - the one irreplaceable card in my wallet - which got me all sorts of discounts to tourist attractions in China.

I still have my keys, I still have my phone, though it was low on batteries. I even had some spare cash in USD, and my passport was still at home, so I wasn't completely dislocated from society. With that in mind, I started to whistle a happy tune. It was just another challenge, another adventure. I just have to manage my finances for the rest of the trip wisely. It would take more than this to bring me down.

My friend arrived in a few minutes, and I explained the situation to him. With my spare USD cash, we exchanged at very favorable rates for me. I decided to take a taxi back home, though I limited my fare to just 50 RMB, and elected to walk the rest of the way. Despite my previous optimism, I couldn't help but feel carsick and weak anyways. I needed to eat.

Shanghai Bus

2008-11-22T01:05:00.000-05:00

Now I'm back in Shanghai, in the process of buying a train ticket to Beijing, where my flight back to the US takes off from. I look in my wallet and only see 150 RMB left. "I need to get some cash," I told my Shanghai friend. He leads me to an ATM and I withdraw 1000 RMB before heading to the ticket office.

At the ticket window, the lady misunderstands me and sells me a hard seat instead of a hard sleeper. "We can return the ticket if you want," my Shanghai friend suggests helpfully.
"It's alright, I've never ridden hard seater on an overnight ride. Maybe it's worth trying once."

And so he leads me to the bus stop and we say goodbye. As I hopped on the bus, I casually put my wallet into my coat pocket, and readjust the shoulder strap to my laptop bag. There was a crowd of people on the bus as always, but it wasn't unbearably stifling.

Getting off the bus, I walked to the subway stop. As I approached the turnstiles, I reached into my coat pocket for my wallet. Only to find... there was nothing there.

Wuhan

2008-11-20T17:25:00.000-05:00

From Chongqing, I took an overnight train to Wuhan. The hard sleeper bunks were comfortable and clean, and I chatted with a fellow traveler whow as in the medical supplies industry. I slept well, and got up around 6am. The sky was beautiful in the early morning, and the mist hung there, like a shroud over the air:

It cleared up after several minutes and several kilometers:

I arrived into Hankou station, at 7am:

Hankou (漢口), along with Hanyang (漢陽) and Wuchang (武昌), are the three major boroughs that comprise of Wuhan. I was planning to meet up with my friend from Wuchang, and so I boarded bus 536 to GuanShanKou (關山口), the stop by HuaZhong University (華中科技大學). As we waited for passengers to load, I could help but notice the bus driver was smoking, blatantly disregarding the no smoking sign next to him on the window:

Can't be helped. Anyhow, we got moving and the bus rolled through Wuhan, passing by many scenic spots.

HuangHeLou (黃鶴樓):

Wuchang:

Wuhan seemed to be a very clean, very likeable city. It was also huge, with plenty of places to explore.

My plan was to visit Wuhan for just the day, as I had a train ticket to Shanghai in the evening. However, it was troublesome to carry my mountaineering pack everywhere I went. So in Wuchang, I found an International Youth Hostel where I could drop my stuff off at:

Inside, the walls were delightful decorated by foreign travelers, similar to many other places catering to young Western travelers:

I rented a room for a day (without the night) for 34 RMB. It was a double, and nice enough for me to consider staying if I hadn't already bought my train ticket. After dropping my stuff off, I headed back over to HuaZhong University:

The University itself, situated close to East Lake (東湖) had a very nice campus, especially for China:

Soon, I met up with friend, one of the random people I met on my flight into Beijing initially. We had lunch and then she took me around to tour a little of Wuchang:

I was impressed - it was clean, modern, very welcoming. Already, Wuhan, along with Hangzhou and Chengdu, was beginning to rank amongst my favorite Chinese cities.

We headed over to West Lake, which was just a bus ride up from the school. West Lake had been compared with Hangzhou's East Lake at times, and while not as famous, it is a much larger, much less touristy lake.

Near the lake, there was a park called MoShan Park (磨山公園), also known as Mt. Mo Park.

Tickets for students were 20 RMB each, 40 RMB for full fare adults. Once inside, we realized the signs were a mess:

For example, it claimed Zhude Pavillion, which honored ZhuDe (朱德), the founder of the Chinese Red Army, was 16km away! Everything else was a few kilometers at most. We walked to the zhude Pavillion after just a few minutes:

Wasn't all that interesting to me, but the pavillion is situated on the first of a series of hills which overlooks East Lake:

We continud on. Soon, I noticed a very peculiar site:

It looked to be a slide of some sort, with a lot of promising potential, but no one was operating the rides.

Next, we came across the Chu Tian Platform (楚天台):

It was located at the top of the second hill. From there, we saw even nicer views of East Lake:

There was a small house in the middle of the lake:

Boats making heart-shaped ripples (as my friend pointed out):

Inside, there was a performance going on with traditional Chinese instruments:

Next, we headed to the last hill via a trail through the woods:

After about a couple kilometers, we arrived at the Liu Bei Offering Altar (劉備郊天壇), dedicated to Liu Bei, the ruler of the Shu Kingdom in the Three Kingdoms period after the fall of the Han Dynasty, and one of my favorite people in Chinese history:

It was there that we noticed something peculiar about the sky:

The clouds looked very peculiar, like a sheet of wool coming to cover the sky:

I have never seen such clouds before.

While at Liu Bei Offering Alter, we spotted a bridge that takes us from MoShan Park over to one of the islands on in the lake. We decided to head over and take a look:

It reminded me very much of Baidi or Sudi at East Lake, except:

1) There was no one there.
2) There were small bugs flying everywhere, due to the lake.

The second difference was probably the reason for the first. Note all the black specs on the side of the bridge:

They were flying, crawling everywhere. While they did not bite or sting, it was very much a nuisance to slap at them when they land on you, and roll their small, slightly squishy bodies off of your skin (perhaps somewhat reminiscent of the bugs on Joba Chamberlain's neck during the bug attack at Major League Baseball's 2007 Postseason ALDS Game 2 between the Indians and the Yankees). It makes me realize how much maintenance they must do in Hangzhou to keep East Lake the way it is - insect infestation seems to be a natural phenomenon around lakes.

We were about to make a run for it when a van pulled up and offered us a ride to the entrance for 20 RMB. We happily agreed and hopped on, and escaped from the swarm.

Good Deals in China

2008-11-19T22:28:00.000-05:00

Things you can buy in China for...

...less than $2 USD (13.6 RMB):
- One rice burger in Wuxi (無錫) (12 RMB)
- 60 minute full body massage or 45 minute foot massage in Chengdu (成都) (12 RMB)
- A night's stay at Maoxian (茂縣) (10 RMB)
- A bowl of delicious rabbit noodle soup in Wenchuan (汶川) (7 RMB)

...less than $1 USD (6.8 RMB):
- One winter hat at Jiuzhaigou (九寨溝) (5 RMB)
- A pair of gloves at Jiuzhaigou (5 RMB)
- Bowl of Lanzhou noodles (蘭州拉面) (5 RMB)
- A huge "loaf" of bread (饃) (5 RMB)
- Huge plate of sliced & stir fried potatoes (土豆丝) (5 RMB)
- A ride around town (4.5 RMB + tip) and a story to tell

...less than half a US dollar (3.4 RMB):
- One bootleg DVD in Chengdu (3 RMB)
- 1 km taxi ride in Maoxian (3 RMB)
- An hour bus ride from Dujiangyan (都江厭) to Mt. Qingcheng (青成山) (2 RMB)
- Huge bowl of egg drop soup in Beijing (北京) (2 RMB)
- One glove at Jiuzhaigou (2.5 RMB)

...less than a US quarter (1.7 RMB):
- Tailor service to get your bag sewn and fixed (1 RMB)
- Key replication service for additional keys (1 RMB)
- An hour bus ride in Xiamen (夏門) to the airport (1 RMB)
- Plastic Bag (0.1 RMB)

...for nothing (priceless):
- 143km ride from Ruoergai (若爾蓋) to ChuanZhuShi (川主市) in a nice SUV with pleasant people
- 17km ride from ChuanZhuShi to Songpan (松潘) and free travel recommendations
- Guided Tour thru Maoxian village ruined by the Sichuan Earthquake
- Guided Tour of Yemen Guan village ruined by Sichuan Earthquake
- Temple Masters on Mt. QingCheng to unlock their doors in the middle of the night to allow us safe passage

Chongqing

2008-11-18T17:25:00.000-05:00

After resting in Chengdu (成都) for a day, Baba and I continued on to way in Chongqing (重慶), which, while cheaper then Chengdu in many ways, was definitely a much faster pace, but much grimier city. In some ways, it resembles Hong Kong, with a lot of tall skyscrapers going up next to the waterways amongst the mountainous terrain.

We took a cab to the Hilton:

Hilton Chongqing was a Category 1 hotel, the lowest on the Hilton HHonors program. That meant a stay there went for an unbelievable bargain of 10K points! If the same hotel was in the US, it would no doubt be a Category 4 or 5 hotel.

View of Chongqing from the hotel room:

After checking in, we went out for a walk, and found a local restaurant to eat. We had some chicken in chicken soup, very spicy rabbit meat (but too many small bones), "ants crawling up a tree" (螞蟻上樹, a dish made of bits of pork mixed with vermicelli, the dish name is somewhat poetic), and some vegetables.

Afterwards, headed to the Yangtze River port, where there were cruises operating on the river to take tourists around for a view of Chongqing. We got in one of the mid-sized cruise ships:

The view back at the city:

Unfortunately, we also noticed the air was a quite smoggy and smelled very bad. Looking out, there was some visibility problems by some of the skyscrapers because of the heavy smog:

Chongqing was probably the most polluted city in China I had visited. It seemed even worse than Beijing or Tianjin. However, the skyline was nice at other areas:

Baba befriended a couple who was sitting next to us:

They were from Beijing. The husband is a writer, and the wife is a culture and travel channel producer. They had a son who studied in Chongqing, and were in town to visit him.

We had an interesting discussion about how one should really live life to the fullest. It's a question that's always worth pondering some more.

Good Old Chengdu

2008-11-17T18:32:00.000-05:00

Dead tired from our journey the night before, we finally got up close to noon. I headed for one of the neighborhood vegetable markets in Chengdu to pick up some mantous (饅頭) and onions:

The market had a very quaint and friendly atmosphere.

Later, I dropped by the supermarket, where I noticed some very interesting flavors:

Lime, cucumber, and blueberry flavored potato chips, anyone?

It was good to be back in the city.

Mt. Qingcheng: Passing Four Temple Gates, Part IV

2008-11-17T00:24:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

And so I dropped straight down on the steps, going with the fall instead of trying harder to regain my balance. My ankle was twisted, though only mildly, not bad at all. Larry rushed over to check on me.
“Jerry! Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I just tripped on the stairs slightly.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t think the light was strong enough from the candle. I’m okay, it’s not bad. Let me rest here a bit.”

As we took a break, as Baba also comes by to see what the matter was. “Heh, looks like no one leaves this mountain unscathed,” joked Baba.

We continued on gingerly after a few minutes, switching to flashlights again, as Baba agreed he didn’t find the light of the candle to be enough. Soon, we arrived at the 4th temple, which had its gates open, though no one was there. After passing through the deserted temple, we headed into the final stretch. Finally, at 9pm, we reached the main entrance at the foot of the mountain.

“We made it!” We were so excited to be alive, but there was no one else around. All the buses and taxis had obviously returned to Dujiangyan for the day. However, before we had more than a few seconds to contemplate what other options we had besides walking 10km to Dujiangyan, light from car headlights shone in the distance. It was heading towards us. We’re saved! As happy as shipwrecked sailors on a deserted island, we waved down the car as it came toward us.

The driver was a Mr. Zhao (趙), a bus driver who was off-duty, but just decided to go “cruising around” at night for fun. We were delighted at our incredible fortune.
“Can you take us to Dujiangyan?” we ask.
“Sure, but it’ll cost you 50 RMB,” he replied.
“Thank you so much!” we cried, agreeing at his offer without even bothering to negotiate. We dumped our packs in the trunk and hopped into the back. As we drove towards Dujiangyan, a thought crossed our mind.
“Actually, can you take us to Chengdu?” Larry asked.
“Hmm… maybe. How is 300 RMB?”
“Sure, that works. Saves us the hassle of finding another ride to Chengdu in Dujiangyan.”
Just then, the driver's wife called, checking up on him. After he finished speaking with her, he turned to us and said, “Sorry guys, I can’t take you to Chengdu. My wife won’t let me.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Well… she’s afraid of me being out too long…”
It was hilarious. Apparently his wife suspects he's having an affair. “Alright that’s no problem. Just drop us off at Dujiangyan.”
“I’m really sorry about that. Let me try to help though. I have a friend who is a taxi drive who might go there.” He dials up a friend. “Alright, I got you guys a ride for 200 RMB. We’ll wait for him by the bridge.”

After waiting by the highway bridge for a few minutes, a taxicab stops alongside. We get out and transfer our stuff to the other car. After thanking and paying Mr. Zhao, we hopped into the cab, driven by Mr. Yang, our new driver.

Weary from our adventures (we had spent 45 minutes climbing up, and about 150 minutes coming down), no one said another word in the car. We were too busy resting our sore bodies and relishing over our latest adventure. An hour later (52 km), we arrived back at Chengdu, safe and sound.

We decided to go eat a lamb hot pot.

It was a glorious meal.

Mt. Qingcheng: Passing Four Temple Gates, Part III

2008-11-16T23:23:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

As Larry fell off the edge, he flipped onto his back and landed into a half-full dumpster. “Larry!” I rushed over to Larry as he lay there, immobile. Is he okay?

Larry groaned. “I’m alright, I’m alright.”
Baba had turned back and saw what the commotion was all about. “Lucky guy! If that dumpster wasn’t there to break your fall, you might be in real pain right now! Worse yet, you could’ve rolled down the ravine!”
“It's also a good thing he landed on his back - the pack cushioned the fall.”

Larry looked a little shell-shocked. I gave him a hand and helped him up, lifting him out of the dumpster, which had contained wooden planks and other discarded construction materials. It was rather fortunate he had his pack on; otherwise it may have really hurt.

By then, the monks in the 3rd temple had rushed out as well, hearing all the commotion. “Are you okay?” they asked.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Larry coughed out. We follow the monks through the 3rd temple, where they gave us candles to help us on the journey. New item! I felt like I was Link in the video game series Zelda, where you solve puzzles, find and pick up useful items in different rooms, and work to pass successive dungeons.

And so we continued on, though slightly subdued. Larry’s spirit seemed a bit broken, feeling a little less than invincible, and was nowhere as gung-ho as before.

The path had pretty much become a staircase going down the mountain, surrounded by a forest of very tall, upright trees. We turned off our flashlights to conserve the battery – we had no idea still how much further we had to go. Instead, we used the candles the temple keepers gave us, and though they were bright, they did not do a good job of providing directional lighting. As we neared the 4th temple, I tripped slightly on the repetitive stairs. Normally, it would be easy to regain balance on such a slight misstep, but my loss of stability was amplified by the weight of my bag. The next thing I knew, I was going down!

Mt. Qingcheng: Passing Four Temple Gates, Part II

2008-11-16T22:22:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

But Larry wouldn’t give up. He continued using the large tree branch as a cudgel to beat the door while calling for help. “Someone! Help! Please come open the door! We are lost in the mountains and need to get down!”

After about 10 minutes, His persistence finally paid off, and someone called back, “Alright! Stop yelling! We’re coming!”

“Alright, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Larry put down the stick and we waited for a few minutes.

The door cracked open; a woman with a candle asked, “Who are you people?”

“We are hikers on the mountain; we were on the mountain for too long and we had gotten lost. Sorry for disturbing you, but we are trying to get down – please let us through!”

“Alright.” She opens the door, and leads us through, along with another man. The second temple is quite large as well – it was definitely no simple matter to simply try to “go around,” as it occupied not just a good deal of surface area, but also a couple floors as well.

As we walk down the open staircase, she instructed, “Continue down through the gate below. Whenever there is a fork in the road, take a right. If you run into a pavilion, turn around.”
“Thank you so much!” We had just been saved, but still quite far from the bottom. So I asked, “Are there any more locked temples on the path further down below?”
“No, you should be fine going the rest of the way. Good luck!”

After crossing the second temple, the going go even more straightforward. The stairs were well polished stones, and much more uniform, making the steps predictable, if not repetitive. We continued the same formation as before, with Baba walking in front.

Larry had an idea. “When we get down there to the main gate, or even to the next temple, let’s all talk in English so they'll think we're foreigners from America.”
“Why?”
“Because they treat foreigners better than Chinese, and we’re not really supposed to be here. We can feign ignorance and get off without much trouble.”
“Okay…”
“So your dad and I will just shut up, and we’ll let you do all the talking, since you don’t have an accent.”
I agreed, though personally I didn't think it was such a big deal.

After another 10-15 minutes, we near the gate of the third temple. Baba walked on a few steps in front of us, while I tried to walk in line with Larry in order to help shine some light in front of his step. “Be especially careful during this stretch,” Larry cautioned, “since as we get closer to the end, that’s when we all tend to make mistakes.”
“I will.”
“So many times, when we’re almost there, we get careless and there’s an accident waiting right around the corn—”
Suddenly, Larry’s walking stick snaps in half. His hands scrambled frantically in midair, flailing wildly as he sought to grasp something to help regain his balance. As he cried out in vain and lost control, he stepped on the corner of a step, causing him to careen towards the edge. The additional 30kg weight of the pack was too much, and before I could react, Larry had flipped over, his body tumbling over the side of the mountain path...

Mt. Qingcheng: Passing Four Temple Gates, Part I

2008-11-16T22:21:00.001-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

With Larry’s headlight, we could see that the road had made a sudden turn to the left, with a gaping concavity where Baba must have thought the road was.

“Baba!! John! Are you okay?” We called to him.

There was no response at first, just the sound of more breaking branches. Baba was scrambling to get back up, but the earth was soft and he was unable to hold on. He fell back down.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m only about 2 meters below you guys.”
“Don’t move!” Larry cautioned. “Give your hand to Jerry. He’ll pull you back up.”

He grabbed my hand, and Larry and I manage to lift him back up. It was a close call. Larry couldn't help but chastise Baba. “You were going way too fast! I can’t believe that happened! Safety first!”
Baba bristled with mild annoyance. “My pace was fine. The problem was my light was too faint, and I just didn’t see the road bend in time. Plus, what’s that hole doing here, right where the road bends? This is really dangerous!”
“It doesn’t matter anymore! I’m taking the front and controlling our tempo from now on! Give me my bag!”

Larry switched bags back with Baba, and assumed the lead with his more powerful flashlight. However, his pace was excruciating slow, with understandable, but nonetheless, overblown caution.

After walking for another 10-20 minutes, we came upon some lights – it was the first temple, which was just below us, with its gates open and inviting. However, we had trouble finding the path down to it. The trail seemed to curl away from it and head into darkness. On the other hand, the slope down to the temple didn’t seem too precipitous; after all, there were many trees there to hold onto. Larry, however, stopped us from going any further. "Stop! Let me find a safe way down.” While he was looking, Baba grew impatient, and muttered, "There's no need to be so careful." He soon decided to lean over and grab a strong sapling, using it as an anchor to transfer his weight to the next tree. Going from tree to tree, he quickly made it down the slope in a safe and controlled manner. I followed after him using the same method, though my momentum carried me too far and I almost continued going down the mountain.
Larry was slightly annoyed at our perceived recklessness. "Stop guys!" He found a branch to use as a walking stick, then slowly makes his way down the slope, holding onto trees along the way. “You have to be more careful. Follow my lead!”
“You’re being way too slow and cautious. There was no danger with that slope,” Baba countered.

By now, some of the people inside the temple had heard the commotion, and came over to us. Larry greeted them. “Hi, sorry to bother you, but we are hikers who got a little lost. We’re trying to get to the bottom.”
“I see. It’s rather late. Perhaps you should try to make it down tomorrow,” the monk suggested.
“No, we need to get to Chengdu today. Please let us know how to get down.”
“We will get the Shifu/Master (師傅). He will open the temple gate entrance for you.”
“Alright, thank you.”
The local monks led us inside the temple, before heading off to get the Shifu. The temple area was somewhat large, and we wandered down a few sets of steps, trying to find our way down to the temple entrance at the bottom. It was a relief that we could see our way again, courtesy of the lights at the temple.

The Shifu came out soon afterwards, and unlocked the gate for us. He instructed us on how to continue forward: “Remember, after you cross the bridge on your way down, take a right at the fork immediately afterwards.” We continued on our way, and now the trail was much easier to walk on. Instead of the dirt path filled with rocky stairs (or no stairs at all), it was paved with clear cut steps, made for tourists.

Soon, we came to a fork in the road. We picked the right side, but it didn’t look right, as the road soon turned back into a dirt path. “You know, this is like the Shaolin route,” Larry joked.
“Haha yes, made for Shaolin monks, definitely not tourists,” Baba agreed.
“But I don't think it looks like the right path,” Larry said. We heard a voice from above and looked up. Someone from the temple, which was above us, had spotted us and was yelling, “Turn back! This is the wrong way!” And so we did so. I checked my watch – it was already 7:45pm! Our prior estimates were way off. I let out a sigh, “We’ll be lucky if we get back to Chengdu by 9pm."
“More like 10pm.” Larry countered.

We retraced our steps back to the fork, and followed the “tourist route” downwards. After a bit further, we crossed a bridge, and took a right. It eventually led us to a path that steadily got rockier and more rugged. Rocks hanging overhead closed in on us, and a railing was put in place. Below us, we could hear the rushing of water – it was a waterfall or some sort of drop on the other side of the railing. There were no steps; just a semi-steep rock-lain ramp. We held the railing and leaned back, stepping through gingerly, trying to maximize the traction of our shoes to grip the decline.

“Is this the right way?,” Larry questioned.
“But we were on the tourist path, and it led us right here,” I countered.
“I don’t know. This doesn't feel right. I think we should go back to the fork and explore the other route." Even though the Shifu had given us clear directions on how to proceed, we doubted ourselves and headed back uphill to the bridge to take the other fork. However, soon it was clear it was the wrong direction. That road was heading back up towards the top of the mountain.

And so we headed back to where we were only about half an hour ago. The trail was somewhat steep yes, and a little out of character, but there was a railing. After crossing that stretch, the touristy route path returned.
“You see! It’s the right way after all!” I exclaimed.
“All we lack is confidence,” Baba says.
“Okay, while that was not Shaolin level, that was definitely a Wudang route,” joked Larry.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Wudang is one level below Shaolin. While this road was not as difficult as the "Shaolin-class" dirt roads, it's still cut to challenge those Wudang monks who couldn’t hack it in Shaolin!”

We continued on, occasionally singing our songs, often in a call and response format, into the deep night.
"Wei..."
"The breeze caresses my sailboat..."
"Moving with the rhythm of the breeze..."
"Taking me to the land of memories..."
"Wei..."
"The breeze caresses my sailboat..."
"Sweetheart, I long to meet you again..."
"And tell you of my heart's emptiness..."

“喂…”
“微風吹動我的船帆…”
“船儿呀隨着微風蕩漾…”
“送我到日夜思念的地方…”
“喂…”
“微風吹動我的船帆…”
“姑娘呀我要和你見面”
“向你訴說心里的思念. ”

The time seemed to pass more quickly and soon we arrived at the second temple, but unlike the first, the gate here was closed and locked. Furthermore, there was no lights inside, and when we knocked, there was no answer.

We looked around for another path, but found that the temple gate had completely blocked off everything. There was no way around – one side of the temple is built into the mountain, and the other side is a steep drop-off to the bottom. We looked at each other despairingly.

At that moment, Larry picked up a tree branch and started using it to bang against the gate entrance. "Is anyone home?" He cried. "Please come and open the door! We are just a few weary travelers lost on the mountain!" No one answered, but he continued desperately.

If we could not get through the temple, we would only have two options: to retrace our steps and brave the steep slopes to try to get down the way we came, or spend the night camped out in front of the temple. Neither option was attractive, as we neither had any camping gear nor the heart to attempt an uphill ascent that would cover our 1.5 hours worth of downhill progress only to face a dangerously steep descent...

Mt. Qingcheng: The Ascent

2008-11-16T22:19:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

3:45pm
After we unnecessarily purchased bags and bags of tea, we debated our next move.

"We should probably head back to Chengdu - it's getting a bit late," Larry said.
"But what about Mt. QingCheng? We came all this way and it would be a shame to skip it when it's only about 10 km away," Baba countered.
"It's actually not that late," I intejected. "If we get there fast, spend an hour looking around, we’ll have plenty of time to get back down before dark."
"Alright," Larry agreed. With great conviction, he proclaimed, “Let’s do it! Let's go to Mt Qingcheng!"

5:15pm
After packing up our stuff, we had headed to the nearby bus station to take the bus to Mt. QingCheng, which was the last stop. The bus fare was 2 RMB each, but because it was the first stop, we had to wait around for a little bit before it would get moving. It ended up taking about an hour and a half to get there, including all of the waiting. We all got off, ready to head up the mountain through the main entrance, but Larry had a better idea.

"Let's not go up the route here - that's for tourists and visitors. I know of a back route that is free of charge."
"Oh? How will we get there?"
"Let's try to get a ride."

5:45pm
We had found a private car that was willing to take us to the back for 50 RMB. Howver, the driver Mr. Yang first went up a road that was stuck – there were parked cars on one of the sides, but traffic from both directions was attempting to pass through on what essentially was a one lane road. A traffic offical had to come by and direct traffic. By the time we finally got to the spot and disembarked with our large packs, it was half an hour later.

We past a house near the foot of the mountain, but the dogs there had spotted us long before and barked fiercely at us. Their owner came out to restrain them.
"Let me go confirm directions with the man," Larry said.
"I thought you knew where you were going!"
"I do, but it's been awhile since I was last here."
We approached the local to ascertain our route. "Good sir! We are trying to get to the top of the mountain. I know there is a path to the top from here. Can you give me directions?"
"Go on up the trail, continue past the big house." The man instructed. "There will be a section where there is a ladder that you will need to climb, and then you will be up at the top. From there, we can spot a path which will go down the mountain."

So we finally started out climb up. It took just several minutes before we reached the house. Baba and I waited there for a bit, until Larry made it up there (around 6pm) as well. We continued upwards. The steps, which were made of irregularly placed rocks, were getting rather steep – some of them were up to my knee. The climb was difficult, especially with my 20+ kg bag.

6:09pm
Baba and I looked back, and there was no sign of Larry. We had gone up too fast. I dropped my pack down and went back down to find him. He was a few stretches down below, laboring upwards, but still in good spirits. "Why don't you guys go on ahead, but wait for me at the ladder," he suggested. So I ran back up and continued forward with Baba, who was in excellent shape from all the hiking he did in Taiwan.

6:20pm
The steps were getting quite large. At some points, I almost had to jump to get up the steps – a misstep would mean a long tumble down. We decided to rest for a bit and wait for Larry, who managed his way up a few minutes behind us.
"You look beat. Let's trade bags," Baba suggested.
"No, I can lug my own pack," Larry pushed back.
"Come on, I've done a lot more hiking recently than you. Give me your loaded bag of rocks." Larry was fatigued, and so they traded bags. Larry's "bag of rocks" was about 30kg, while Baba had a light sling bag that was no more than 5kg.

6:25pm
It was almost dark by the time I got to a slight plateau in the climb, and I waited for Baba. Ahead was the ladder that leads to the top. It was standing vertically, and since it was almost dark, I was not sure whether the ladder was secured to climb upward, especially since I was carrying such a heavy bag. Baba offered to go up first, and he found the ladder to be sturdy. It must have been somehow anchored to the mud wall. I went up as well, and then we waited a few minutes for Larry to arrive and get up as well.

6:30pm
We had walked a few more minutes of uphill, before finally making it to the summit. We got a good view from the top of Mt. QingCheng:

"Looks like we made it just in time," I noted.
"Yeah, the sky just went completely black," Larry said.
"We actually made pretty good time too - 45 minutes," Baba observed.
"Yeah, not bad eh?" I agreed.
"Though if we hadn't stopped and waited around here and there, it would have been about half an hour."
"Hey you guys weren't carrying my pack most of the way up," Larry countered.
"Serves you right for packing a bag of rocks!"
"Alright, anyhow... let's try to figure out how to get down."
"We can't go the way we came - it's way too steep, especially in the dark with these heavy packs."
"Besides, there's no one there will be around to give us a ride."
"So let's just do what the old man suggested and take the tourist route down to the main entrance."

So we followed the directions according to the villager we talked to before climbing up, and started the path down. Larry had a headlight on his helmet, which he took off, while Baba had a small, solar-powered light that shined faintly. I didn’t have any lights except for my phone, which is way too dim to illuminate anything. And so we started down, with Baba in front, holding his small, dim flashlight. I followed behind, trying the group together, while Larry held the end with his headlight. It was difficult to keep up, as Baba walked a little fast, and sometimes he would not shine the light all the way back so I could see where I was going. Larry kept calling for him to slow down.

6:39pm
We had only been hiking downwards a few minutes when we spotted lights in the distance.
“It’s not all that far, I see lights! We'll be there in about 5 minutes!” Larry exclaimed.
“More like 15 minutes, probably,” I guessed. They were definitely not 5 minutes away.

We were in high spirits as we walked down, humming and singing mountain songs, even though we were, I suppose, essentially trespassing on the UNESCO World Heritage site, wandering half-blind on a mountain dirt trail in the black night. We start heading down the trail faster, as Baba was spearheading our descent with confidence. However, Larry was less than comfortable. He cautioned Baba again, “Don't go to fast, you'll --"

Larry's words were interrupted by the sudden sound of breaking tree branches and sliding stones. He shined his flashlight ahead, catching a glimpse of Baba and then no more. Baba had fallen off the side of the mountain.

Dujiangyan Irrigation System

2008-11-16T19:00:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

After lunch, we discussed our plan for the remaining day.
"Why don't you guys go tour Dujiangyan Park (都江堰)?" Larry suggested.
"What about you?" we asked
"I would go with you guys except that I forgot my senior citizen card. It let's me get in for free."
"Just pay then. It's only 60 RMB."
"I'm not paying 60 RMB. I come here free so often that there's no way I'm paying to see the same sights. It's not a big deal; take your time, I'll just hang out here by the river until you guys are done."
"What about Mt. Qingcheng (青城山)?"
"Just come back here afterwards. We'll go together then."

And so Baba and I headed off to the entrance of Dujiangyan:

Chinese Chess Pieces in the square outside the entrance:

One question that had bothered us was we didn’t understand how Dujiangyan really worked. How could a static construction project help control floods and provide adequate irrigation under dynamic conditions? We tried to look for information on the pamphlets, but couldn’t find any. So instead, we headed into the park first.

"Wow, this park looks fantastic," Baba remarked.
"They must have cleaned up pretty well after the earthquake."
"It has been six months. "Why don't you take a picture of that building over there?"

We continued down the middle road towards the fountain:

The gardens on either side:

Fountain:

Continuing on down, the road was lined with statues. I only recognized the first one, which was a statue of Zhuge Liang (諸葛亮):

All the statues were of people who had helped improve and maintain Dujiangyan, originally designed and built by Li Bing (李冰). Baba was not familiar with most of them either, but there was one that stood out:

"It's Ding Bao Zhen (丁寶楨)!" Baba exclaimed.
"Who is he?"
"He was the governor of Sichuan. However, at one point, he was the head of Shandong Province (山東) during the Qing Dynasty (清朝). The story goes that there was once a powerful but corrupt eunuch serving in the court. Using his power, the eunuch would solicit bribes from the highest bidder to help make policy decisions. Unfortunately, it was common (though perhaps unspoken) knowledge that he was Empress Cixu's (慈禧太后) favorite, no one would dare touch him. One time, on Empress Cixu's orders, the eunuch entered Shandong Province, despite the fact that eunuchs weren't allowed to travel outside the palace grounds. However, upon entry, Ding Bao Zhen had him arrested immediately and executed! He then sent a memorandum to the royal court, proclaiming, 'Your servant has captured and disposed of the evil eunuch who violated Your Highness’s laws by leaving the palace grounds.' The Empress was upset but was unable to do anything about it since he only followed the laws set forth, and so she even had to thank him and issue a memorandum in his honor."

Afterwards, Ding Bao Zhen apparently became governor of Sichuan. The famous (and frequently Americanized) Sichuanese dish Kung Pao Chicken (宮保雞丁) is named after him.

We continued on, walking all around the park, and then to the actual irrigation system. Unfortunately, much of the paths to the temples on higher grounds were closed off since repair and reconstruction operations are going on to get the park back to where it was before the earthquake. However, these pictures from my trip in 2004 better shows what the irrigation system looks like from a more aerial view:

The centerpiece in the Dujiangyan system is the very first part, known as the "fish mouth" (魚嘴). It was slightly cracked from the earthquake, but still functional:

The fishmouth somehow divides up the river into the correct proportions, inviting the right amount of water to go to one side for irrigation purposes, and the rest to allow excess water to continue on.

Two other important components of Dujiangyan are the Feishayan (飛沙堰) and the Baopingkou (宝瓶口), and the latter is shown below:

Because Dujiangyan splits up the river into different streams, there were a considerable number of bridges to cross when going from one part to another. There was at least one concrete bridge:

And a couple rope bridges:

Things were a little different than I remembered it, but my memory was a bit hazy. The most noticeable difference is the inaccesssibility of all the temples in the park. One of the most prominent temples that had collapsed was ErWang Temple (二王廟), dedicated the Li Bing and his son:

Closer up:

Compare it to 2004:

Near ErWang Temple were signs illustrating the damage to Dujiangyan:

Huge progress must have been made in the last six months.

Afterwards, we headed back to the park, taking another route out to exit:

There we saw a lake, where people were feeding lots of orange fish. The number of fish crowding around the feeding area was frightening.

We then went through a garden, where there were miniature trees and small streams & waterfalls, well framed by the Chinese garden architecture pieces.

After we finished, we left the park, but Baba and I still wasn’t sure how Dujiangyan worked.

"Why don't we go hire a tour guide," I suggested.
"But we already left the park!"
"It doesn't matter. Let's find out how much they cost, and just have them explain it to us."

And so instead of leaving clueless, we went to the counter and got a tour guide for 60 RMB, even though we weren't heading back into the park. First, she showed us a model:

She started to explain: "There are three main parts to the Dujiangyan system: 1) the Fish Mouth at the front which separates the waters and the silt correctly, 2) Feishayan (Flying Sand Weir), which allows excess water to drain out via a dam, and 3) Baopingkou, which is the channel that distributes water to the farmlands, but has a narrow entrance that creates a whirlpool which carries excess water over to Feishayan."

"So why is it that the Fish Mouth can separate water at the right proportions regardless of whether the water level is high or low?"

"It’s because one stream was narrower and deeper, while the other is wider and shallower. During normal times, most of the water would flow into the narrow and deep stream (the inner stream), and irrigate the fields. However, when it floods, the majority of the excess water would go to the wide stream since the narrow one would be saturated. Also, the wider stream would carry 80% of the silt away."

We were enlightened. The design was genius.

"You mentioned that Feishayan was essentially a dam that could allow excess water to drain out. How did they dam it before modern dams?"
"It was with the stones tied up in the bamboo sacks that you must've have seen in the park," she replied.
"Oh those things!"

"Yes, they simply cut the rope holding the sacks and let the river carry them away when the dam needed to be opened. They can close it again by reattaching new sacks."

Though unorthodox in our use of tour guides, we got our money's worth. It's probably easier to explain how it all works via the model rather than walking around all over the park anyhow.

When we got back to discuss our next step with Larry, we saw he was talking with a lady who was selling tea. They had been talking about all sorts of topics for over an hour!

"Did Larry buy any tea from you," I asked.
"No... I tried to negotiate with him, but my lowest price was 100 RMB for 4 斤 (2 kg), but he would only pay 80 RMB, so it didn't happen."
"Oh really! Larry! I'm ashamed of you!" Baba exclaimed. "You've been talking this woman's ear off for an hour and you still won't give her any business!"
"Come on, John, you know I can't compromise on my principles," Larry joked.
"I'll tell you what - why don't I pay the 20 RMB difference?" Baba suggested. "Larry can pay the 80 RMB he thinks the tea is worth, and you will get your 100 RMB!"

It was a brilliant idea, and Larry, caught by surprise, bursted into spontaneous laughter. It was obvious he really didn’t want the tea, but could not say so after he had already named his price. We all cracked up, including the sales lady.

"You know we just talked to a tour guide about Dujiangyan - it was 60 RMB for 15 minutes!" wheezed Baba through the laughter, trying to catch his breath. "You got yourself a great deal - you're only paying 80 RMB but you got to talk to her for over an hour!"

Larry couldn't respond as he couldn't stop laughing. We paid 100 RMB in total, and were left with 2 kg of tea that we didn't know what to do with. After all, we could drink this tea for 3 years.

Sorrow in Dujiangyan

2008-11-16T17:17:00.001-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

The driver drops everyone else off, and agrees to give us a small tour of the damaged areas. Dujiangyan, is a much bigger city than Maoxian or Wenchuan, but it looks like it was much more affected by the earthquake. There were many more damaged and unusable buildings:

But by no means a dead town – there were plenty of lively places as well:

There were also rebuilding efforts are also underway:

After the tour, the driver drops us off near Dujiangyan Park, the park that contains the world famous UNESCO World Heritage Site: The Dujiangyan Irrigation Project. Near the entrance, people were trying to sell all sorts of things – maps, food (corn on the cob, tofu, black rice, etc), toys, and newspapers. There was even someone trying to sell DVDs of the day of the earthquake. At first, I was repulsed by the fact someone was trying to make money off of the disaster, but then realized that it is precisely because of the disaster that people are trying to make money with whatever they can. And selling DVDs of the disaster not only brings immediately financial benefits, but also spreads awareness of the incident and allows people to better remember what happened here. And so I bought a DVD before we headed over to the riverside to have lunch at a restaurant.

However, our lunch was not a peaceful one. Every few minutes, someone would come by asking if we wanted to buy stuff. An old lady tried to get me to buy a map for the longest time. I felt bad, but I didn’t want to buy the map, and if I started buying even things I didn't want, I was sure I would be swarmed with more vendors pushing me to buy more things. We ignored her and kept eating, but she would not leave. Next came a newspaper vendor who was selling newspapers for many times the value printed on the newspaper. We declined this one as well. After that, other vendors also dropped by trying to sell Larry toys or tea leaves. None of this was around in 2004 when I visited Dujiangyan, when it was a much more prosperous city. Recent hardships have forced people to try to aggressively sell to tourists, which have made Dujiangyan somewhat more unpleasant.

The Road to Dujiangyan

2008-11-16T17:17:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

We got up the next day around 7am to a sudden knock at the door. It was the landlady.
"Psst! Are you guys awake?"
"Yes...?"
"There's a driver going to Dujiangyan (94 km away from Wenchuan) right now She called us up, and said that there was a driver going to Dujiangyan, and he’s looking for passengers. He’s offering a special price, a really cheap rate."
"How much exactly?"
"The driver is here. You can ask him."

We got up and and met the driver, who said it would be just 100 RMB for the three of us, which was pretty cheap compared to what was offered the day before by the other guy. We got our stuff together and hopped on to the bread van, which was full of other passengers. There were probably 8 of us in total.

At the start, the scenery around us looked okay – there was not too much damage, just the natural scenery you'd see on any mountain road, which we were able to go at a decent speed on due to lack of early morning traffic.

However, after perhaps 20-30 minutes, traffic slowed down and we stopped as we neared a tunnel.

Larry decided to go for a walk, and Baba and I joined him as well. We walked up towards the front, and saw that the cars in front of us were held in front of the tunnel, where traffic was being directed thru. In a few minutes, our line of cars started moving, and we hurried back. However, when I came back, I noticed that the passnenger sitting to my right was smoking. He had also spat on the ground near where I had put my feet. I was disgusted, but didn’t say anything to him. Then I looked up – all the rest of the passengers plus the driver was smoking! Looks like they all decided to take a cigarette break while we were away, but were "nice" enough to hold it in while we were still on board.

Our van lurched forward, and we were into the tunnel. It was rather dark and a little smoky, but after a minute or two, we emerged out of the other side, only to face a surreal scene.

After our eyes had adjusted to the strong light that had poured back into our senses, we stared in awe of the scene around us. somehow, it was as if we had accidentally stumbled right into the Gates of Hell.

Destruction and mayhem was everywhere. There were huge, broken highway bridges cast on their side like discarded giant toys. Buildings to the left and right were in ruins.

Bridges were broken, and temporary army bridges built by the engineering corps in a day were there in their place. Large boulders and small rocks littered the ground.

The landscape suddenly appeared especially ominous;

in some areas, the treacherous mountains had released their avalanche of rocks onto the road below.

Still in awe of the awfulness around us, we continued on slowly for several minutes in silence, until we got into a second tunnel, where we once again were stuck in traffic. This time, we were stuck behind a huge truck, not too far from the exit. Though the tunnel was lit, visibility was not good and it had a funny smell due to poor ventilation.

Suddenly a shadowy figure approached our van; as it drew closer to our vehicle, we spun around instinctively to face the intruder. It was an old lady, trying to sell us some snacks! Apparently this spot (as well as some others up ahead) often get backed up for long periods of time, and the locals try to take advantage of that to hawk various snacks to the captive travelers.

We got moving in a few minutes however, but once we exited the tunnel, we were stuck again. And so Baba decided to buy some stuff – he got a couple hard-boiled eggs from some lady that wasa selling.

We weren’t moving for a long time, so the three of us decided to get out of the car again to see what was going on.

As we got out, we noticed some of our fellow drivers were hauling very interesting loads:

We walked to the front of the line of cars to see what the commotion was all about. A big bulldozer was blocking the traffic; it was in position to push some rocks up the mountain. A few people worked next to it, surveying the situation with the rocks.

Meanwhile, to the right, a bunch of men in orange construction outfits were busy adjusting the settings on a pulley machine of some sort.

Larry went to talk with a group of engineers. Soon, he came back and explained what was going on.

“There are actually two different groups of engineers working on two different problems. The first group is the one that concerns us. You see those guys up in the mountains?" He pointed up to the left:

"I don't really see anything," I said.
"Look closer."

"Their job is to knock down the loose rocks to the road below, and then the bulldozer is supposed to clear those rocks once they are down. Basically, they’re here to take some preventive measures and ensure no rocks fall on the cars below as we drive through this stretch.”
“I see.”
“The other group, the one with that pulley machine, is setting it up so that it hooks onto the new roadway built over there, and drag it across onto the columns to build the bridge.”

We walked back to the car to explain the situation to the driver, who was waiting anxiously. He slumped in and resigned himself to waiting indefinitely after we described the situation.

We got back to the front of the cars again, to see what Larry was up to. He was still hanging around, talking with the people there. There was a woman there in construction uniform – apparently she was the one directing the rock-clearing operation.

People began honking their horns rather impatiently as they have been waiting for about 40 minutes now, with no signs of progress.
"Perhaps we should tell them what's going on," I suggested.
"Sure - you can do that if you want, but I don't think it'll help."
"You're right, we have no estimate of how much longer it'll be."

Luckily, only after another good 20-30 minutes, we finally got moving. The bulldozer moved out, and they started signaling cars to cross. We ran back to our car, which was somewhat of a scary prospect - with so many cars, and added time pressure, it would be easy to pass ours by accident.

However, we managed to get back right when they were about to get moving. Yet by the time we got to where they were clearing out the rocks, they signaled us to stop, and allowed the other side to cross. The first set of vehicles coming from the other side was a bunch of motorcycles and a military officer in an all new Toyota Land Cruiser Prado.

After they all pass, we finally cross, and continued forward now at a much slower pace. Here the scene is even more precipitous, and the atmosphere felt even more dangerous.

We saw big rocks that had smashed down to the ground – one boulder that had fallen on the road was so large it was unable to be moved. There was just a sign which signaled drivers to go around. We started seeing more buildings. We must have reached Yingxiu, though the driver did not stop.

There were shattered buildings everywhere. Across on the other side, half a mountain had fallen down.

Except for an occasional gasp at another horror ahead of us, no one said a word.

After passing by the hydroelectric dam that was being rebuilt, we neared the site of a new bridge for Dujiangyan.

We had finally arrived. It was getting close to 12pm. Though Wenchuan to Dujiangyan was just 94 km, we took a little under 4 hours to get there.

Disaster in Yemen Guan

2008-11-16T00:09:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

As we approached late afternoon, we decided to go out and check out a place near Wenchuan (汶川) named Yemen Guan. Yemen Guan was a pass that Liu Bei (劉備), the King of the Shu Kingdom, had his troops hold in the Three Kingdoms Period, guarding the road into Sichuan. Given my interest in the Three Kingdoms, we couldn’t help but take a look.

We found a bread van that was going to Yemen Guan:

They let us in for 2 RMB per person:

The ride was short, as it was only 3 km away. We passed by the blue temporary shelters, and a couple bends later, we were there.

There was nothing, really, except just a bend in the highway sandwiched by two tall, outcropping rocks.

"Is this really Yemen Guan?" we asked.
"Yes it is. There's a sign somewhere around here with an inscription or something."
We got out, and the van drove off. However, we could find no sign of anything, literally. There was nothing here of note, other than a landsliding mountain on other side:

and broken railings near our end of the highway:

Apart from a couple people doing some land surveys, there was no one else around. However, when we looked down, we spotted a village below:

It was in bad shape:

We decided to go down and take a look. Walking down the rubble, we slowly reached Yemen Guan village. Buildings were broken, collapsed structures everywhere.

A leaning two story building looking like it's going to fall:

Another leaner:

Houses with only walls left standing:

However, there were still some people around, and some signs of repair:

But the place was in bad shape:

It was easy to envision large boulders falling from the top of the mountain, raining down on the village:

Some of the villagers have turned their ruins into make-shift houses:

While Baba and I walked around, we ran into one of the villagers. His name was Mr. Cao (曹), and he now temporarily finds shelter inside a makeshift house made of bamboo strips:

After we introduced ourselves, we started discussing the events of the earthquake.

“So you were home on the day of the earthquake?” I asked.
"Yes, but I ran out! I feared for my life!"
“What about your family?”
“My wife was in the fields, working. My kids were in school.”
“Did the school collapse?”
“No, we were quite lucky.”
“How many people are in your family?”
“There are three of us. My son is 10 years old, though he lives at boarding school most of the time."

“So this is Yemen Guan?” Baba asks. He points up.
“Yes, but I don't know much about it."
“So what do you for a living?”
“I don't have a job...”
“What did you do before?”
“I was a farmer. I worked in the fields. But they aren't really viable now.”
“What about the winter?”
“I live here in the winter as well.”
“Does it get cold here?”
“Yes, but we can build a fire in our temporary shelter.”
"But when will you fix up your house? Next year?”
“Yes... this is just a temporary shelter.” He pointed to the building that had walls made of strung-together bamboo fiber.
“How will you build your new house?”
“The government will provide us loans...”
“How much do you think it will cost?”
“At least 50,000 RMB for materials and labor. This time, we're of course going to build our houses much better.”
"How much does it cost to get people to help build your house?"
“It’s 60 RMB for unskilled laborers, though you have to provide them meals. For skilled laborers, it's 120 RMB.”
“That’s pretty expensive.”

Just then, Larry called and said he’s going to head back first – he found a 1 RMB bus he wants to take back to Wenchuan. We decided to meet up with him later. After the call, Mr. Cao invited us to come in to sit and relax.

“Why don’t you come in? Take a break. Have some tea with me!” We went in. He unlocked his temporary shelter, and pulled his guard dog out of our way. We went inside:

He bade us to sit. "I'm going to boil some water... do you want tea?” He smiled and showed us his water kettle. It was all messed up, disfigured by the rocks:

“No, that's okay. Why don't you sit? Don't bother with the water. We just want to hear more."
"Okay, sure."
“So you have electricity here?”
“No, the electricity is down right now.”
“What about water?”
“We bring it down from the highlands. We have to boil it. Would you like a cigarette?"
"No, that's okay - we don't smoke."

Baba re-engaged him in the conversation. “But at least you don't look hurt.”
“That’s right.”
“And though your house is down, you can rebuild.”
“Well it’s not just my house, but I lost many things too. Refrigerators, appliances, etc. But you're right. I'll find a way. After all, if you're still alive, if you still have energy and a good attitude, you'll find a way live well. I just need to give it some time.”

We changed subjects. “So what is your biggest expense?”
“Food. But we eat very simply. Mostly vegetables, we grow ourselves. We do need to buy things other than vegetables though.”
“How much land do you have?”
“Enough so that we can grow all the vegetables we eat and also have surplus to sell. We have a three-wheel rickshaw we use to carry stuff to the marketplace in Wenchuan. It takes about 30 minutes – just 3 km away.”

We thanked him for showing us around, and taking the time to meet us. He even gave us a couple pears to take with us.

We went back up the slope and onto the highway, and in a few minutes, Baba managed to flag down a tractor hauling supplies. They were heading towards Wenchuan, and so we jumped in:

The fellow in the back is Mr. Qin (秦), and his older brother was driving in front. They are from Maerkang (馬爾康), and were hauling supplies back home to rebuild their house, so they were happy to help other strangers.

Mr. Qin:

Mr. Qin's brother:

They dropped us off at Wenchuan, where we saw a reconstruction of a major building going on. The building must have been demolished or it had completely fallen apart, since all I could see were rocks left on the ground.

Spot where they are rebuilding a building. Must have been demolished. Empty space with lots of rocks now.

We head back to our hostel, where we had a gotten a triple for 45 RMB. It was getting dark, and soon we didn’t have any light in our room. Apparently, Wenchuan often loses power at night even six months after the earthquake, but the landlady was working hard on getting the generators on for some electricity. Soon, the lights came on, but unfortunately, there wasn't enough to go around, and we saw the folks next door were still sitting in the dark. According to the landlady, they were longtime customers and are used to power outages, and they understand that it's more important to serve new customers. Looks like you incur negative hotel points in Wenchuan. :-p

It was a long day, so to recap, here are the hitchhike rides we took today:
Maoxian – a guy took us a short distance to Larry.
Maoxian – Ms. Zhai took us back to the bridge
Maoxian -> Wenchuan: A guy took us there for 30 RMB
Wenchuan -> YemenGuan: A guy took us there for 6 RMB
YemenGuan -> Wenchuan: Mr. Qin took us back for free

Wenchuan City

2008-11-15T22:51:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

We got back to Yang Shiu Mei’s (杨秀妹) house, and she asked us if we wanted to stay for a meal. We said we best be going, and got our stuff together. Waving goodbye, we headed out and passed through the blue temporary shelters to get back on the road to hitch a ride to Wenchuan (汶川).

We were not on the road that long before we managed to pull an empty bread van over.

The driver was a fellow going to Wenchuan anyways, but he still wanted some compensation. Larry bargained hard, and due to the driver's low bargaining power, we ended up paying 10 RMB per person.

Just as we were about to get in, we spotted the woman who gave Larry and apple earlier in the day and waved to her. She waved back and wished us a safe journey.

The road to Wenchuan, which was 44km away from Maoxian (茂縣), was full of sore sights.

Destruction was everywhere. There were ruins of former buildings:

Houses which have been bashed in by the rocks that fell down from the mountains during the earthquake:

Some of the landslide have yet to be cleaned up:

Even as the mountains threatened to slide further down:

The driver started talking (in fairly good Mandarin) about the damage done by the earthquake:
"Actually, the city of Wenchuan itself isn't in such a bad shape."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. The reason they called the earthquake back in May the Wenchuan Earthquake is because of the damage that happened in Wenchuan County. The countryside is where the majority of the damage is, not the county seat."
"Where is the worst damage located?"
"It's in a town called YingXiu (映秀), a town about 50 km south of Wenchuan, on the road to Dujiangyan (都江堰). YingXiu once had tens of thousands of citizens. Now it has been reduced to a population of just 7,000, most of them killed by the earthquake. The city is just about completely destroyed, as is the Zipingpu Hydropower Plant (紫坪鋪水庫), which they are now rebuilding. Not too far from YingXiu are the mass graves where they buried the corpses."

Larry looked out the window at the mountain, and noticed that there are still rocks tumbling down. They are small rocks, but it just goes to show that the region is not completely stable yet.

The driver picked up a few more people along the way. There was a couple, and then a mother & child. The child loved to sing, and she sang a couple songs, inappropriately loud.

We continued on, and after an hour, we neared Wenchuan. The ubiquitous blue temporary shelters were here too, on the side of the road:

Wenchuan, like the driver said, didn’t look all that damaged.

There were banners hanging in the streets, thanking the people of Guangzhou for their help:

Most of the buildings looked sound, but there were a few that were marked as unsafe:

We finally got to Wenchuan, and as we got off, a man approached us.
"Are you folks looking to go to Dujiangyan?"
"Perhaps... what are you offering?"
"Are you looking to get there today? You know, today is an even numbered day, which means that the flow of traffic only comes from Dujiangyan up to Wenchuan."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah they regulate it because there are still areas that are just too dangerous to allow higher capacity traffic to go through. As a result, they alternate the flow of traffic every day. However... if you really need to get there today, I can have connections that will let me borrow a special permit to cross... but it will cost you double."
"How much is that?"
"Probably a few hundred RMB."
There was no reason to pay extra to head down early. "I think we'll stay in Wenchuan for the day then."
"Well let me know if you'd like to go tomorrow."
"Alright. We'll see."

So next, we decided to find a place to eat. On the way, we passed by a very strange sign, advertising some beef intestines soup.

Beef intestines soup, for those of you unfamiliar with it, can actually be quite good; however, even we were unsure why there was a picture of a weird girl on the banner. It was very strange.

I saw a rabbit meat noodle shop, but we ended up going to the place next door. I decided to order the rabbit noodle soup anyways and have them bring it over. The noodle soup was very good – had very good noodles, and was plenty spicy. Furthermore, the food at the place we were actually eating at was quite good.

Regardless of what the driver had said, we couldn't help but still be somewhat surprised at the fact that we had not met any starving refugees, and instead, was gently delighted by how enjoyable our first meal in Wenchuan City was.

The Art of Saying Hi

2008-11-15T02:29:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

As we walked down, we passed by several villagers. First there was one of JinHua's neighbors, looking out from his temporary home:

Then there was a schoolboy:

And later, a guy biking a cart uphill. Finally, there were a few young girls, returning home from school. We said hi to all of them, though with mixed results.

"I think I know the secret," Baba announced.
"What do you mean?"
"A surefire system to get them to respond when we greet them."
"Oh?"
"The main problem is people are not prepared to greet strangers here. Here's what we do: First, since there are two of us, the key is to time our greetings for maximum effect. After the first person says hi, he effectively catches the stranger's attention, who may not be ready to respond yet. But when the second person says hi as well, you'll almost be sure to get a greeting out of him."

"That makes sense." It is important for the two people to space out their greetings; salutations done in unison or near-unison may seem intimidating. After all, most people are rather absentminded when they are just walking.

"Second, is the actual greeting, which is just common sense. Just act friendly, smile warmly, and maintain good eye contact. Once you're at ease, it's quite easy to let out a charming "Ni hao."

And so we tried our system, which worked with astonishing effectiveness. Most of the folks, as we anticipated, were in no position to greet us at the first "hello," but all were ready for the second.

Larry, meanwhile, was using his own method, and he ended up getting to meet a ton of schoolchildren.

They took a group photo together.

I guess you don't need a system if you're naturally charismatic.

Heishui Jinghua's Story

2008-11-15T01:50:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

After the taxi experiments, since we were still unable to get in touch with the Maoxian (茂縣) friends that we met in Ruoergai (若爾蓋), we decided to continue down the road to Wenchuan (汶川), the next stop on our southern route back to Chengdu (成都). Larry, once again, had already walked on ahead, while we slowed when we saw a Tibetan sword shop along the way. We went in to take a look:

The lady at the counter, presumably the owner, was cooking some radish soup, and the delectable smell had wafted to our noses.
"That is some good soup you have there," Baba said to her.
"Yes indeed!" She replied.
"Is it radish soup?"
"That is correct. Did you want to buy something?"
We bought some yak bone chopsticks from her (which we found out later to be just plastic), but still she did not offer any soup.

We continued on our way, but soon, Baba managed to flag down a bread van. "I'm just going up the road, all that far," the driver explains, "but I can take you guys up a bit further."
"We have one more ahead - if you don't mind, can you pick him up as well?"
"Sure."

We drive on ahead, and slowed as we neared Larry. Larry had turned around and stuck out his thumb, and assumed had flagged down the car with his ubiquitous charm. When he opened the door, and saw us, he was shocked. "I thought I got one!" he exclaimed.
"You might have, but we made sure we got it for you!"
"I'm not getting in!" he cried with mock pride. He closed the door and continued walking ahead. Unable persuade him, Baba and I thanked the driver and left as well, watching wistfully as it drives away:

"Was the car going all the way to Wenchuan?" Larry asked.
"Yes," we lied.
"Yeah right," Larry countered, smelling the fib.
Baba changed the subject. "Did you see the Tibetan Sword shop?"
"Yes."
"She was cooking some good radish soup."
"Oh really? Did you get any?"
"No, she didn't offer..."
"Well if you wanted soup, you should've just asked her!" Larry laughed.

Just then, the phone rang, and it was our friends from Maoxian! They had turned off their phones until now, but have time to show us around now. So we decided to turn around and head back to Maoxian.

In a few minutes, we managed to flag down another ride.

The driver was a Qiang girl named Ms. Zhai (翟):

She was driving a very crude vehicle that looked like it was used to carry industrial supplies or something. We were surprised that she would pick up three strangers in the middle of nowhere by herself and give them a ride back, but the people in Maoxian (and in general, the earthquake devastated regions) have been very nice and welcoming throughout. As per our friend HeiShui JinHua’s (黑水金花) instructions, which we communicated to her as she drove, she dropped us back to the other bridge we were previously at. It was the same place where we were 3 hours ago!

HeiShui Jinhua called again and told us to follow the road to the left. Soon, we came across the blue temporary shelters, which were built right on the road:

It was rather ingenius - where else amid the mountains would you have all this flat, paved area to build on top of? Plus, the road was still wide enough to allow traffic to pass through in both directions.

We continued down the road, and had a chance to see the shelters up close:

Many of them were empty, but it has been six months (in fact, two days ago was the half-year anniversary of the Sichuan Earthquake) since the quake happened, and so it is understandable that many have moved out of the temporary shelters.

Inside, they were spartan in their furnishings, basically some concrete floors and tables, with a few connections for electrical power and perhaps water. It was one big room, with windows and a door. Interesting enough, there were some XiaoMaiBus (小賣部) based in some of the temporary residences. It is important to have business everywhere, even here. There were also first aid stations here and there.

After passing a couple intersections, we saw our friends in front. It was HeiShui JinHua (黑水金花 - "Blackwater Golden Flower"), her Qiang sister-in-law Yang Shiu Mei (杨秀妹), and another woman we did not recognize.

"I'm so sorry I didn't have my phone turned on!" apologized JinHua. She greeted us warmly and even took Larry’s pack off his shoulders to carry for him. She then pointed to the third woman, introducing her, "This is my younger sister, HeiShui YinHua (黑水銀花 - 'Blackwater Silver Flower')."

We first headed over to see Yang Xiu Mei’s house, which was somewhat damaged by the earthquake:

Inside the house:

From left to right - HeiShui JinHua, Yang Xiu Mei, HeiShui YinHua:

They bade us to sit and got us water and snacks. We declined out of politeness - after all, their lives were hard enough as it was, and we should be the ones offering them water and snacks if we had any.

Then HeiShui JinHua offered to take us up to her house, which was up on the mountains. We follow behind.

Much of the land there is used for farming, and we saw a few plantations next to the path:

On the way up, JinHua points out some of the nicer buildings that are still standing.

“These are the buildings that the people with money have built – they were built before the earthquake, and look, they are still standing! Our buildings are so poor, their standards are so low. If we had buildings like these, we would be fine.”
"Houses in the mountains are more prone to collapse than those down on the bottom," we observed.
"Yes that is true. But we don't have enough money to afford houses down there. We can only afford poorly built houses in bad locations."
"Why weren't you able to get a better piece of the land when the government was divvying it up?"
"We missed out because we aren't originally from this area. We only got here 8 years ago, and so we did not get a share of the land below the hill."
"What do you do for a living?"
"My husband and I both work in construction repairing houses. I make 45 RMB ($6.60 USD) a day, though room and board is provided."
"What about your husband?"
"He only makes slightly more, 60 RMB ($8.80 USD) a day."
"How long are your hours?"
"We work 10 hours a day, from 8am to 6pm."
"Is it okay then that you're here showing us around instead of at work?"
"Don't worry about it - I already did some digging and rock-moving this morning. I can go back to work later."

She guides us past a bunch of buildings in shambles on the way up. They were all JinHua’s neighbors.

At a couple sites, the door was the only structure left standing:

As we walk past another pile of ruins, JinHua points it out to us. Her neighbors lived there – it’s also where they lost their sons in the earthquake. One was 13, the other 14. They were crushed by the falling rocks.

"Where are your kids now?" we asked JinHua.
"Our kids are all in Baxi. We were lucky on the day of the earthquake - they were on their way back to school after stopping at home for lunch when it happened. As for my husband and I, we were in Ruoergai at the time, fixing up houses. The road from Songpan to Maoxian was completely impassable then, and we were very worried for a long time."

We finally got to JinHua’s house (structure in the back):

Like most Tibetan homes, it was guarded by a Tibetan Mastiff chained to a post.

There, we met one of JinHua’s relatives and her three year old daughter. JinHua shows us around. She points up to one of the structures and said, “This is the old house. We’re going to take this one down.”
“Why don’t you repair it,” we asked.
“It’s beyond repair. Take a look.”

It was in pretty bad shape. The roof was broken, the walls looked unsteady, and a makeshift frame was used to hold it up. “So where do you live now?” we ask her. She points to the building next door, which looks in slightly better shape.

Next we continue onto a section where only the walls were standing. JinHua motioned to the wall on her right:

“This wall had fallen down during the earthquake. Since this was the bedroom, if the earthquake happened at night, and if I was back in Maoxian sleeping at the time, I would have been crushed by the rocks.”

After that, she shows us around to the back, where there were some animal pens. “We lost pretty much all our livestock during the earthquake. That included 50 chickens and two small pigs.”
“But I thought chickens could fly!” Larry said.
“The door was closed they had nowhere to go…” she explained.

After the tour, she brought us back to the front, and said, “You guys are here after coming from so far... but I’m so embarrassed; I have nothing prepared for you.”
“It is okay!” we reassured her.
“Why don’t you guys stay for a bit? I’ll make a meal.”
“No that’s quite alright.”
“No, please stay, I’ll be done in a few minutes.”
“No, we’ve taken too much of your time. We know you’re busy and have to get back to work.”
“Oh come on… “
“We ought to really get going…”
“I have this bag of dates…”
“Okay, we can take with, but we really shouldn’t use up much more of your time…”

Just then, another man steps into the house. JinHua introduces him. “This is my younger brother… he’s helping with repairs.”
“Nice to meet you!” we called to him.
“Why don’t you stay for a meal?” he asked.
“Maybe next time.”
“Alright.”
“Why don’t we take a picture together?”

And we do so, before taking our leave:

"Thanks so much for coming by!"
"Thank you for the tour!"
"Let us know if you're ever back here!"

Thoughts:

- It is at times like this that I'm at a loss for how to properly help. Sure, we can lend financial support, but besides the fact JinHua doesn't seem like the type who would take charity (see Ruoergai), there are so many in the same situation. I could have stayed longer and personally helped out in some way, though unlike six months ago, it's no longer an urgent crisis anymore. True, there are other things I can do such as help with the rebuilding (though I don't have any experience in it), or teach them certain skills, but it seems just as important for me to keep moving and see more of the situation here. Perhaps the most important thing I can do is simply continue to visit, observe, record, and publish the account of my journeys through this area at this time, and continue to raise awareness of the situation.

- As unfortunate as JinHua was, she was lucky compared to many of her neighbors. Miraculously, everyone in her family is unharmed, and she still has some sort of a shelter she can stay in.

- A minor observation: It seems regardless of how poor the villagers are here, they all seemed to have invested in phone and satellite dish for TV. Both Yang Shiu Mei and JinHua had cell phones. Communication and connection to the outside world is important to people here in the countryside, one of the few extra things they would pay for given their limited finances.

Taxi Experiments

2008-11-15T00:08:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

"Turn around!" I ordered the driver, as we rushed back to where we came from. As we approached the square, I saw my phone – it was just laying on one of the steps, unmolested:

Unfortunately, there's no place to stop - this is a busy section of the road with thru traffic, and the closest place to park was probably at least a few minutes away. Furthermore, there was a police car right behind us, watching. Things looked difficult, but I remained undeterred.

With the car still moving, I jumped out, the car door still open:

After I rushed over and secured the phone, I ran back to the taxi and jumped back in before it could get too much further. Operation Retrieval was successful!

We had the driver take us all the way to where Larry was. Still pumped from the adrenaline of my recent adventure, I decided to take a couple pictures to help recreate the scene (see pictures from above). The phone lying on the step was easy, but the open door to the taxi? That seemed to be a bit trickier. After all, it seems irresponsible to call a taxi over, open its door, and take a picture of it, all without actually riding or paying the taxi driver.

And so I decided to pay - 1 RMB. I wave a cab over. He comes by, and I open the back seat. The driver is a young man.
"Sir, have 1 RMB!" I reached out my hand and offered him a 1 RMB bill, taking a picture at the same time:

Taxi #1:

"Huh?" He was clearly confused. It isn't everyday people open cab doors and offer you money.
"I just want to give you an RMB."
"No, I don't make money like this - I'm an honest man, just trying to make an honest living. Where do you want to go? Tell me and I will take you there."
"I don't need to go anywhere - but why don't you have an RMB!"

He still refuses. I leave the bill on his back seat, but he grabs it and tosses it out the passenger window, and then drives off.

I was bemused - I had assumed people would just take money offered to them, but clearly that was not the case. Having lost nothing after I retrieved my 1 RMB bill, I decided this was actually a very interesting experiment that was worth running.

And so I hailed another cab. This time, the driver was a middle-aged man.

Taxi #2:

"Sir, have 1 RMB!" I reached out and extended the bill to him as well. He looked amused.
“Alright, why not!” he responded, and took my money. I closed his door and he drove off.

He took my money, I took a picture of him, and he drove off. Ah, back to normalcy, I thought.

However, I was wrong. I flagged down a 3rd taxi.

Taxi #3:

I offered him 1 RMB as well, but this young man did not take.

Taxi #4:

This was another middle-aged driver, and he refused as well. I then flagged down another:

Taxi #5:

"Hello, would you like 1 RMB?" I asked. The lady looked at me funny. Then she went on a tirade.
"I'm a cab driver! I don't make money like this! Who do you take me for??" It was as if I had insulted her occupation. She drove off in a huff.

Finally, I waved down the sixth cab driver. He looked to be a guy in his thirties:

Taxi #6:

“Today is your lucky day! Here is a kuai (i.e. 1 RMB)!”
"Whaa?" He seemed totally bewildered at first.
"I said today's your lucky day. Have a Reminbi."
"Huh?" He still didn't get it and seemed even more perplexed.
"Don't worry about a thing. I just want to give you 1 RMB. Why don't you take it?"
The man seemed to partially regain his senses. I suppose cab drivers usually are on auto-pilot and need a bit of time to adjust to an out of the ordinary passenger pickup routine such as this. After a few more moments of thought, he shrugged, and took the bill.
"Thanks," he said. I closed the door and he drove off.

2 of 6 drivers took the money. The sample size is rather small, no controls were ran, and no standard scripts were used, so it is difficult to draw any hard conclusions, but Maoxian (茂縣) seems to be a fairly upstanding place. Looking a bit deeper at the preliminary data, and combining it with some simple intuition, it also seems that the younger drivers tend to be more idealistic and would refuse taking in "free" money out of principle, whereas the two drivers that did take money were older drivers, with probably more realist viewpoints. Given their socioeconomic condition (after all, Maoxian cabs have just about the lowest fares of anywhere I've been - 3 RMB for the first kilometer, and 1 RMB for each half kilometer afterwards), they would gladly take every RMB that was offered to them.

Maoxian Visit

2008-11-14T17:07:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

The next morning, we tried to contact our friends we met at Ruoergai (若爾蓋) without much success. So instead, we decided to take the opportunity to explore Maoxian (茂縣) on our own. We walked around through the fruit and vegetable markets, and then the main square for a bit, where, to our surprise, we met one of the drivers who took us to Diexi (疊溪) yesterday.

We greeted him and chatted with him briefly; it seems Maoxian, while larger than some of the other places we've been at on this trip, is still quite a small world.

We continued exploring, and wandered to the outskirts of the city. Looking back, we marvelled at the view:

Maoxian was also high up in the mountains of Sichuan, and so naturally, clouds hang especially low over the city:

Like I mentioned earlier, the city itself didn't seem to be in bad shape. I had expected, from the road conditions, and what I had heard from Ruoergai (若爾蓋) to see a devastated city in the midst of rebuilding.

On the contrary, the city, for the most part, looked fairly normal:

Though of course there were banners and signs all over the city to encourage the people:

There was one building in the square that seemed to be damaged by the earthquake, and teams of working men were hard at work at the site both this morning as well as last night. The buildling hung a couple banners on the sides:

They roughly translate to:
"We support the unwavering spirit of the Maoxian people in their efforts to rebuild their homes."
"No difficulty is too tough for the heroic Chinese people."

We tried calling our Maoxian friends again with no success.
"Your pack looks like it's falling off again," Baba commented.
I put down the phone on the step to adjust my straps. After they were set, we hailed a taxi - Larry had gone on ahead in the other direction by himself some time back, and we were trying to catch up.

However, after a few minutes on the car, a sudden realization hit me. I called to the driver.
"Sir, can you call my phone?" I gave him my number. He dialed.
"It's ringing," he said. But there was no ring in the car.

I had forgotten my phone back at the square.

How to Hitchhike

2008-11-14T02:55:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

After touring around Songpan (松潘), we continued our journey back to Chengdu (成都). our next stop was Maoxian (茂縣), where we were to visit some friends we met in Ruoergai (若爾蓋 - refer to the previous Ruoergai entries).

"Alright, I did most of the hitchhiking work yesterday - let's let Jerry get us a ride today!" Larry announced, just as an SUV with plenty of empty room in the back passed by, before any of us could react.

"Fair enough," I looked forward to the challenge, though it was unfortunate we missed a good chance just by a few seconds.

So we start walking, and at the sound of a car coming, I would turn my head back, and stick out my thumb. But every time, I turned a bit too late, and the driver wasn't prepared to stop in time.

So Larry gave a few pointers:

"The key is to make sure you give the drivers enough time to react after they see you. That means you can't just surprise them by turning around at the last minute. This is how you do it -

1. While it's fine that to keep walking when there's no cars around, when you hear a car, you must turn around and stop right away.
2. Then point out your thumb and smile warmly, and finally,
3. Make eye contact with the driver and front passengers.

You're not stopping fast enough, and you keep walking backwards even when you see the car. That confuses the driver."

"But didn't you say yesterday that people admire those with an independent spirit, those who help themselves by pushing forward fearlessly regardless of whether they stop to pick them up or not, instead of those desperate leechers who merely stand by the side of the road? And didn't you say the reason we got picked up so fast yesterday was because people admired the fact that we wore our shorts in the cold?"

"Yes, that's true, but they need to understand your intentions too. You can't send mixed signals. They will see us walking on the side of the road from afar, but by the time they get near, we have to stop completely and face them."

Larry was right. I felt a chill, and decided to put on some long pants, though I shed the coat to reveal my short sleeves, as I felt we still needed to be a bit "威風" in order to have something to attract the attention/pity/admiration of kind-hearted drivers.

Soon, we heard the sound of another vehicle, and so I assumed the position:

The vehicle came to a stop. It was a huge orange truck:

"The passenger opened the door and said, "We're not going all that far - our house is just up ahead. However, if you want, you guys can hop in."

We all climbed up and piled into the seats, which was high above the wheels. They carried us several hundred meters before they had to veer off to a dirt path:

We thanked them, got off, and continued on. Occasionally cars did stop, though most of them wanted money. At least two of them asked for 300 RMB (100 RMB each). We declined. Along the way, there were villagers with their houses by the road. We waveed and greeted them as we passed. They looked as us curiously.

Finally, we flagged down on a bread van that asked for 60 RMB, after some negotiation. We hopped in.

The van was quite full:

There were about 10 of us. The driver made stops along the way, as people got off at their houses or wherever they were going:

On the way, we chatted briefly with one of the passengers, a Mr. Yue (越).
"Why don't we sing you a few songs?" Larry suggested.
"That would be great!" Mr. Yue was enthusiastic. "Is that okay with everyone?" No one voiced any objections.
"Alright, let us sing a few songs from different countries. First, here is a folk song from the United States." We sung our rendition of "Take Me Home, Country Road" and was met with warm applause.
"Why don't we do a song from Vietnam?" We performed Silver Canoe (I'm not sure if it is Vietnamese in origin, but that's besides the point), and again was greeted with a favorable response, so Larry pushed for one more. "We're going to end with one from our home, Taiwan." I wasn't clear on the words here, but I tried my best to follow along on "In the Springtime (春天里):"

春天里來百花香，
郎里格朗里格朗里格朗，
和暖的太陽在天空照，
照到了我的破衣裳，
朗里格朗朗里格朗，
穿過了大街走小巷，
為了吃來為了穿，
朝夕都要忙。
...

In the springtime flowers bloom,
Lang, li ge lang, li ge lang, li ge lang.
With the warm sun shining in the sky,
Shining on my worn-out clothes,
Lang yi ge lang, lang li ge lang,
Passing by streets to reach alleys,
To have enough to survive,
Work must start at dawn.
...

We continued to sing to our hearts content. In no time, we were there. The van dropped us off in Taiping (太平, about 60 km out from Songpan, almost halfway to Maoxian), a small town that the road cuts thru.

It is not too far from Diexi (疊溪), a village that was submerged under a quake-lake in 1933, the year of the last large Sichuan earthquake before this year's.

We paid and got off, and continued walking in the same direction. There was a strange guy wearing glasses and dressed in a white collared shirt, carrying a book.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To Maoxian," we replied.
A few others overheard, and started offering us rides.
"Good sirs, come with me - I'll take you to Maoxian in no time."
"I'll do it for just 300 RMB!"
"No thanks," we replied. Their prices were ridiculous - after all, we were nearly halfway there already, and their prices were about the same as at Songpan.
"You'll never make it there without our help! These are the best prices you'll find!"
We ignored them and continued walking, betting that we would eventually find cars we can flag down and hitch a ride with.

About 10 minutes after we had walked out of Taiping, we heard someone running towards us. It was the slightly odd fellow carrying a book! He chased us down to join us on our walk. His name was Mr. Qi (戚). Apparently he was a student of architecture who had graduated recently. After working six months in Shanghai, he came to Sichuan to help out with rebuilding houses after the earthquake. He had been here two months, and appears to be a little lonely, since he was surrounded by country peasants for the most part. In fact, it seems he had rushed out to join us for no other reason than to chat with us! He said that he’ll just walk to the next bridge and take the bus back to Taiping.

Just then, a tractor pulling a cart came by, and we waved it down. "Unfortunately, we are only going to the road up a few hundred meters ahead, so we can't take you very far." Regardless, we jumped on, along with Mr. Qi, and sputtered down the road with the driver and his passenger:

30 seconds, later, we got off. Apparently it wasn't clear that the ride was going to be that short. It took more time and effort to get into and out of the truck than to ride it for that distance!

As the road wound into the mountain, we continued talking and chatting with Mr. Qi. He opted to continue on walking with us for a bit longer as we got deeper into conversation. Mr. Qi said he came here through his architecture firm to learn more about helping out in disaster recovery and rebuilding efforts. He helps design new houses for those affected by the earthquake. The whole project is funded partially by the government, but mostly by a couple wealthy Taiwanese through Tsinghua University, since it is difficult, due to the political environment, to grant the money directly. While the government has been very willing and open to accept outside help when disaster first struck, as the situation stabilized and media coverage lessened, they have been systematically trying to minimize outside help (and therefore outside influence). Mr. Qi goes on to explain why so many houses collapsed: “The structure in these houses was very weak and primitive. They build their houses with rocks, pretty much just stacked on top of each other above ground, with little or no foundation. It’s no wonder when the earthquake hit the houses would collapse.”

As we talked, we also tried to flag down cars, though without any luck. One car stopped, but kept going, changing his mind after hitting the breaks. After a few more minutes, Mr. Qi says he needs to head back, and thanked us for our company. We bid him farewell and continued on. He had walked with us for a good half an hour for no discernable purpose other than to make conversation.

We passed by a few folks building a house:

I wanted to ask them if they wanted help, but it was getting late Baba and Larry were walking ahead pretty fast. After another 10 minutes or so, we managed to get a black sedan to stop. Two guys were in the front seats, and they let us join them. They were going to Diexi, which was just up several kilometers ahead. Soon, we spotted the Diexi quake lake:

While the current Diexi village is near the lake, the entire old village of Diexi is still covered by the water.

A few minutes later, the driver got to his destination Diexi and let us out.

"You know, it is getting late. We are going to Maoxian tomorrow, so if you want, you can stay here in Diexi today. We can help you find a place to stay for the night."
"Thank you for your offer, but we are planning to get into Maoxian today."
"Sure?"
"I'm sure we can hitch another ride. How far do we still have to go?"
"It's another 73 km."

We walked on, next to the quake lake, which was majestic in its scale. The Min River (岷江), which was really quite small back up in Songpan, had exploded into a huge reservoir here. A boatman was rowing on the lake.

Perhaps someday we can come back and visit to do the same.

It was getting dark, and we feared that it would be harder to get a ride. However, Larry said that in his experience, hitching a ride in the dark might actually be easier, as people want to help travelers in distress.

Luckily, right at dusk, we managed to catch a passing car. The driver Mr. Yu (余)and his wife were in the front seats, driving an otherwise empty bread van. They asked for 60 RMB, and we accepted. The road got progressively worse as we neared Maoxian. There were mounds of dirt on one side of the road or the other, and it was a chore for the driver to either swerve around them or go over them.

We arrived at Maoxian an hour later, well after dark. We thanked the driver and his wife, and paid them before going off on our way.

Maoxian didn’t look all that damaged at first, which surprised us since the roads to the city were so bad. Pretty much all the buildings looked unscathed, and there were electric lights on the streets, even people dancing together in the square, forming a large circle dance. Furthermore, we were impressed with its size – it was a much bigger city than we thought. It was larger than Diexi and Taiping for sure, but probably Ruoergai and Songpan as well. It looked far more modern too, with fashionable clothing shops catering to the middle to upper middle class.

Next, we searched for a hotel. We found one that was extremely cheap – 15 RMB for the doubles room that Baba and I shared, and Larry took a singles bed room for 10 RMB. The rooms were pretty worn, but useable:

In summary, our afternoon of hitchhiking ended up being much more challenging than yesterday. We took 5 rides, 3 of them free:

Songpan - truck ride short distance
Songpan -> Taiping (60 RMB) with 10 people
Taiping - short ride in back of pickup truck
Taiping -> Diexi free ride with 2 guys in sedan
Diexi -> Maoxian (60 RMB) with a couple

Gaoyuanhong

2008-11-14T02:14:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

"Gaoyuanhong" (高原紅) refers to the characteristic red cheeks that folks living in high elevations tend to have. At Songpan and Ruoergai, the phenomenon was especially noticeable.

Here is the son of Hago Tenzin Wang Yal (啊郭邓真旺甲), with gaoyuanhong:

Some other examples:

However, it's not just a phenomenon limited to kids, though perhaps it is easier to see on them, since their skin tends to be lighter. Here is Ms. Liu, who helped reinforce my pack through some fine stitchwork when it was about to fall apart:

She mentioned gaoyuanhong may take weeks (maybe 2-3 on average) to develop the first time, but may take years for it to go away even when you go back down to sea level. Plus, once you are back to high elevation, it only takes a few days for it to come back if you happen to lose it.

Portrait of Hago Tenzin Wang Yal

2008-11-14T01:57:00.001-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

Meanwhile, Larry had run into Hago Tenzin Wang Yal (啊郭邓真旺甲), owner of the Snow Land Tibetan Medical Massage Centre (雪城藏式按摩中心), a few doors down from our hostel.

"Well hello! How are you?"
"Larry! It's such a coincidence to run into you again!" We had just met him yesterday, and so he got to chatting with Larry for some time. Eventually, he started telling his life story.

"Years earlier, I had joined the army, and traveled all over China. It was then that I met my wife, a Han Chinese woman from Henan. However, as you know, I am Tibetan, and according to the traditions of my people, the custom was for all the brothers in our family to share one wife and live together, taking care of our family's lands. But I didn't want to follow the old ways anymore, and I loved LiXia (his wife). So against my parents’ wishes, I married her. The problem was, my mother would not acknowledge my marriage, and she tried to chase me and LiXia out of town. At one point, I was going to leave the country and stay with my grandfather in India. But once my wife got pregnant, my mom relented and let us stay, though we're basically shunned by our people."

He was only 28 years old, and had already lived quite an eventful life. The conversation continued, and Hago Tenzin Wang Yal explained why the mountainsides of Songpan were barren:

"We used to have trees at one point, but in recent years, people have been cutting them down without replacing them. So the last 7-8 years, the government has been encouraging locals to plant trees with monetary incentives. Unfortunately, such incentives are not having the desired effect. Instead of actually planting new trees, some of our people (the Tibetans), who don't know a lot about tree-planting, go to the forest and uproot some small trees. They transplant them to the mountainside right before inspection, for the sole purpose of passing the inspection (which allows them to claim the incentives, anywhere from several hundred to a few thousand RMB). The problem is, the trees are not well transplanted, and after the inspections, they soon wither and die. As a result, the very next year, they need to start transplanting new trees, only they go deeper and deeper into the neighboring forests. Not only do no trees grow on the mountainside, but they are destroyed elsewhere."

Larry notes that it is perhaps because of these experiences and family problems, that he often feels rather dejected. He has a broader prespective than most Tibetans here, and a lot of ambitious plans, but no one listens to him.

As Larry observed, what really needs to be done here is the implementation of this "learning classroom" idea. As with many things, the main issue is education; the people here do not have the proper perspective - they are limited to the learnings of local experiences around them, and have nothing to broaden their horizons, tell them of what the rest of the world is like out there, how other people in other places have handled similar issues.

Songpan Revisited

2008-11-13T21:42:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

After Huanglong (黃龍) we came back into Songpan (松潘) for the 4th time on the trip already. After getting a good night's rest, we got up the next morning with the intention of exploring the city a bit, before resuming our hitchhiking journey to Maoxian (茂縣).

Larry came back early in the morning, with two huge, circular loaves of bread:

"We had these last time we were here, right?" I asked.
"Yes, though we only tried the one on the left," Larry responded. He continued, ""The loaf on the left is baked with an electric mold, while the one on the right uses heat conduction. There were around 5-6 shops that made breads like the one on the left, but I could only find one shop that used heat conduction."
"I see."
"And I met the owner of that one shop, and told him I'll be back, perhaps to learn his art! So let's go pay him a visit."

So we headed out to pay the breadmaker a visit. on the way, it was apparent that the bread was one of the signature local foods in the area:

We headed down the main road before turning into a small, almost rural alleyway on the left:

As we went down the alleyway, we saw that there was a wooden door to humble house on the right. When we stepped through, we saw the lady of the house.

Larry greeted her heartily. “Hey! Mrs. Ma! How are you! So good to see you so soon! Is Mr. Ma in?"

Mrs. Ma greeted us warmly and bade us to put down our bags and sit for a little bit. Her cat, which was lying in the courtyard, looked up at us curiously.

Mr. Ma soon came out. "Hi! How are all of you?"

"Very good, Mr. Ma! I brought some of my friends with me! I wanted them to come take a look at your shop."
"Ah, of course! Let me give ou a tour."

He walks us over to one of the rooms, where he makes the breads and bakes them. A number of breads baked this morning were already on display:

He talked a little bit about the bread's history here in Songpan, and then offered to teach us how to make it. We had to decline, since we did not have that much time, but perhaps one day we will take him up on it.

Next, we headed to the walls of Songpan. As we neared the North Gate, we once again see the statues of Princess Wencheng (文成公主) and Tibetan King Songtsän Gampo (松贊干布):

Princess Wencheng was betrothed to Songtsän Gampo back in the Tang Dynasty, in a successful attempt to keep the peace between the Han Chinese and Tibetans in the region.

Behind the statue, was Songpan's city walls, one of the few Chinese cities still with its walls intact:

The wall is quite thick:

Which is apparent on at the top of the wall too:

I had climbed on top of the wall to take a look:

Admission to the North Wall is 60 RMB, though later I would find out the South Wall is free. On the North Wall, they had quite a few seige and city defense weapons on display:

As well as cannons:

And statues of the commanders holding down the fort:

Walls cover three sides of the city - the fourth is the mountain, and the wall is anchored into it:

Songpan from the city walls:

Outside the city walls (with clouds that looked as if they're from the Simpsons cartoon):

I continued walking on top of the wall. There was an road following the wall on the inside. It bends as the wall does at the corner:

After touring the North Wall, which is separated from the South Wall by a stream (it's strange how there is a river going through the middle of the city, which is linked by a bridge in the middle), I went to tour the South Wall. As mentioned earlier, it was free of charge, and unlike the North Wall, there were actually other people on this wall as well. In fact, some people were lying on top of the wall, relaxing:

Inside of Songpan from the South Wall:

Clouds hanging over the South Gate:

Shots of the temple on top of the mountain Sonpan is next to:

Local Songpan man who is in charge of collecting money for using the bathroom near the wall:

The bridge that links the two sides of the city separated by the stream:

Huanglong Critique

2008-11-13T00:33:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

Besides being a somewhat too expensive (especially for the "off-season"), there were some other minor annoyances with Huanglong. Some of our pet peeves included:

1. Planks on the road:

We're not sure what the point of this was, as they were actively building more of these plank structures on the side of the road even while we were there. The road seemed fine by itself, and the planks actually made it more difficult to walk - there was a tendency for the foot to get stuck behind one of the horizontal crosses, inviting more walking and falling accidents amongst tourists. Maybe they had too much money to spend and felt they needed to make some unnecessary additions.

2. Too many no-smoking signs

Every couple hundred meters, we would come across another sign. Curious to what it said, and thinking it have some text describing the background or history of a scenic view, we would inevitably be disappointed with another no smoking sign, police sign, or bathroom sign. The no smoking signs were especially prevalent. I understand there are tons of smokers in China, but it's going a little overboard. For example, this tree alone has two no-smoking signs:

Couldn't they spend all the extra money they make from over-priced tickets a bit better? If you can't come up with any more scientific, historical, and or cultural descriptions than the few that are already placed in the park, at least be more like Jiuzhaigou, where they have signs next to obscure plants providing their scientific names.

3. Too many bathrooms / bathrooms are too nice

There's nothing wrong with nice bathrooms, or having a bathroom a few several hundred meters (we saw about 8-9 on the way down). After all, when I got to the top of Huanglong, the port-a-potty I used was actually not too bad. It didn't smell or look disgusting, and I was rather impressed. I think I'm just more annoyed that they spend all their money on improving these facilities rather than reducing the ticket price, or improving the signage to provide more information about the park.

That said, they probably still went way overboard on spending when they designed the first bathroom at the entrance:

4. Too many police stations

Crime rate cannot be that high in Huanglong to warrant the number of police stations they have in the park. There's nothing bad with having so many; it just seems like such a waste. Were there uprisings in the park at one point or something?

So maybe our complaints aren't really substantive. We're just generally unsatisfied with the fact that a good portion of the value of the ticket is found in such peripheral improvements.

Huanglong

2008-11-12T22:06:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

When we got back to Songpan (松潘), we set our stuff down at the same hostel as before, and had them get us a taxi to Huanglong. The driver was Hui (Muslim) Chinese named Meng En Fu (蒙恩富), and he took us through the winding mountains roads.

We stopped to take pictures once we were at the highest point along the route:

This is XueBaoDing(雪寶鼎 - Precious Snow Peak), the highest peak in the area, and a sacred Tibetan mountain:

It rises to 5600m (18,400 ft – more than 3 miles high!).

We continued on, going downhill on the remainder of our 40 minute journey. We got to Huanglong (黃龍) at around 3pm.

"How long does it take to walk through the park?" Larry asks.
"It's usually about 4 hours to walk there and back (it's 4km each way), but maybe you can do it in 3 if you're fast," Mr. Meng responded.
"I see."
"The park closes at 6pm though. However, there's also a tram which will take you close to the top."
"That's okay. We'll walk and be sure to make it back by 6pm!"

We headed to the counter to buy tickets, which, incredibly, were the same price as Jiuzhaigou (九寨溝) tickets (220 RMB full fare, 170 RMB discounted fares for students, seniors, etc)! Huanglong was nowhere as big as Jiuzhaigou, which you couldn't see in 4 hours even if you tried.

After using their magnificent bathrooms (that's where all the money goes), we headed up the trail. We came across a map of the park:

It was fairly straightforward - pretty much a single path up to the top (a few alternate routes), which was Multi-Colored Ponds (五彩池), the crown jewel of Huanglong Park. Most of the alternate paths were closed due to the weather conditions, and it wasn't long before we start seeing the turquoise waters lying in those calcite pools.

It was quite pretty, but there did look to be less water at this time of the year. Moved on, and in some areas, we could see snow and ice:

It reminded us it was still somewhat chilly, as we were at around 3300 meters (10,000+ feet) above sea level.

We continued our climb upwards, and soon we saw what was called the "Golden Sands" (金沙) of Huanglong, the yellow travertine slope that gives Huanglong, which translates to Golden Dragon, its descriptive name when viewed from afar:

After a couple more kilometers, we came across a set of very pretty lakes. They are called the Zheng Yan Ponds (争艳池), also known as the Beauty Competing Ponds / Glamorous Pool:

Going several hundred meters further, we finally manage to get all the way to where we can see the path ahead of us:

It seems we've finally creeped into the valley. A few hundred meters ahead, there was a temple, which was probably the one seen in all the shots with the Multi-Colored Ponds.

We reached the Multi-Colored Ponds:

Absolutely gorgeous, though they seem to be short on water - some of the pools, if full, probably would provide an even greater range of colors.

Some close-ups of the pools:

The water was extremely clear, but at certain angles, you can see the reflection:

A shot of the temple with some reflection from the pools:

We looked up. The scenery around us was splendid as well:

The air was chilly, and the water levels were lower than expected, but Huanglong is still quite a sight. Satisfied, we walked back down the road, out of the valley.

Kicked out of Ruoergai

2008-11-12T18:02:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

The next morning, we received a call at 8am from the hotel front desk, saying we had to check out immediately. "Check out is at 8am? I've never heard of such a thing!" exclaimed Larry. We packed up quickly and headed out in a few minutes.

At the front desk, the manager apologized. "12pm is our normal checkout time, but this morning some people from the local government are coming to do an inspection, so we were trying to get all the guests out of the hotel. I'm sure you understand."

Not really, but we left without asking for much more of an explanation, ready to go on our hitchhiking adventure back to Songpan (松潘). However, once out, we did notice the town had hung banners across the main street announcing the inspection:

There were also soldiers on the street with brooms, apparently ready to clean up the town (literally).

A few members of the police questioned us as we left town:

The only wanted to know where we were going. We said we were leaving town, and they let us continue on.

After just walking a few minutes, we managed to flag down a small oil cart, which was already carrying two people in the back. The driver said we could get on, but it'll be a little tight.

Larry opted to walk separately and try his luck a little later, so only Baba and I got on the cart:

We had to stand up and hold on to the railing while the cart was moving, as there was no room and the cart was quite dirty, covered with black oil. Balance was hard to maintain, but we had only gone a couple kilometers before the police flagged us down. All four of us had to get down from the back and walk instead. There wasn't much of an explanation, though I imagine what we were doing wasn't quite the safest roadway practice.

We continue walking by ourselves, while the other two and the driver head over to a gas station. In a little bit, after being away from the police's attention for long enough, they continued on:

This time they opted not to pick us up. Luckily for us, a few minutes later, an SUV comes by and slows down. We stick out our thumbs, but when we opened the door, Larry was already inside!

"You guys should be more attentive! We would have passed you guys if I didn't tell them to slow down!" Larry chastised.

There were two people in the car: the driver was a young fellow who we didn’t catch the name of, and the passenger was a Mr. He (贺). They picked us up since they were going to Chuan Zhu Si (川主寺), which was really close to Songpan (just 17 km).

We discussed all sorts of topics, especially around Taiwanese politics and Chen Shui Bian (陳水扁), which Mr. He seemed to follow quite closely. After a couple hours, we were at Chuan Zhu Si. We got off and thanked them for their hospitality.

We had traveled 143km for free, and we were almost to Songpan! Just 17 km to go! Indeed, in no more than a few minutes, we caught sight of another SUV. It was occupied by two young men, who were going to Songpan:

They let us hitch as well, though of course it was just a short trip. While riding, we started talking about Huanglong (黃龍), the park close to Jiuzhaigou and Songpan that we passed on visiting thus far.
"So is Huanglong worth going at this time of the year?" Larry asked.
"Oh definitely! It's one of the best times!"
"I thought there wasn't enough water," Baba said.
"No, there's plenty of water still. If you haven't gone, it's definitely worth it."
"What about the altitude and the weather?"
"They said it’s colder, and the altitude is higher, but if you’re fit, it should be no problem."

Since the two of them were locals, we took their advice and decided to make a detour to Huanglong after we get to Songpan but before heading down to Maoxian.

Ruoergai, Continued

2008-11-12T01:50:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

After BaoZhu went on his way, we saw a couple middle-aged ladies came to pass. Larry complimented the one closer to him, and said, “What a pretty hat!” She turned around, pleased, and Larry started another conversation with them:

"Hello! Where are you folks from?"
"We are from Maoxian (茂縣)."
"Oh! We are travelers from Chengdu and will pass by Maoxian on the way back. Can we come visit?"
"Maybe, but today we need to walk 30+ km to Baxi. Our kids are studying there. Perhaps another day."
"Ah, so far! Have a safe journey! As for Maoxian, we will not get there today anyways. Maybe tomorrow or the day after."

Larry continued on with the conversation, and soon got their names. The one with the hat was Heishui Jinghua (黑水金花, the "Golden Flower" from "Blackwater" - apparently she doesn't have a last name, but she is from a place called Blackwater), and the other, her sister-in-law, was Yang Xiu Mei (杨秀妹). Heishui Jinghua was Tibetan, while Yang Xiu Mei was Qiang.

We invited them to eat with us, and they declined politely.
"But really, come on.. we have more food than we can finish! And it's hot and fresh - we just ordered lunch!"
"It's quite alright."
"It's only fair that we invite you to lunch if we're going to come visit."
"No, you don't have to..."
"Have you eaten yet?"
"Well no, but we just can't burden others like this."
"Don't you have a long journey ahead of you?"
"It's okay. We can manage."
"Well at least just come and sit inside with us to talk, even if you don't want to eat."
"Alright, sure."

And so they came in and sat down. Our food, which we ordered 40 minutes ago, finally started coming out. While we talked and ate, we encouraged them to eat as well, and while they finally ate a little bit of the Big Plate of Chicken just as a friendly gesture, they refused any more additional food.

Yang Xiu Mei and Heishui Jinghua were both affected by the Sichuan earthquake back on May 12th, as they lived in the countryside. They were up here to see family, but will need to go back in a couple days. We were quite interested because we hadn’t had a chance to see the impact of the earthquake yet, and so we said we would definitely try to come and visit. They welcomed us and invited us to eat with them once we arrived. So we exchanged contact information, and they urged us to call when we are in the neighborhood.

After our photo together, they left and went on their way. So next, we decided we should go visit the famous Tibetan temple (actually a complex containing a number of temples) nearby. Though the temple was not too far, Baba and I boarded a three-wheel rickshaw for the experience. Larry didn't want to pay money so he walked.

Halfway through, I thought of an idea, "Sir, do you think you can let me try to pedal the rickshaw?"
"I'm sorry, I don't think I can."
"Come on! I'll pay you the same, and you can just sit in the back and relax!"
"It's against the rules. If someone saw us, I could get in big trouble."
Baba was amused by the idea too. "It's okay! If you get fined, we'll pay it for you!"
"No, I really just can't afford to... Sorry!"

After a few minutes, the driver pedaled us to the temple entrance:

Monks were dressed in purple, which was interesting. We went into the complex visit, but it was just about closing time (around 4:30pm), so the buildings were inaccessible.

However, we managed to get up to the top of the highest temple there and snap a few pictures of the view:

Ruoergai really is a small outpost, and it's impressive how these hardy people managed to survive in the barren landscape.

Afterwards, we came back down to the base of the complex, where we noticed people were walking around a statue repeatedly:

They were exercising. We estimated that the statue was probably 4 meters by 4 meters, meaning one time around is 16 meters. 100 circles would get you one mile! I guess it's similar to a treadmill.

Baba decided to join them for a few rounds as well, for fun. As he passed by, he noticed there were strings of coins on the side.

They were counters. Every time around they would move one of the coins over to count their laps.

While Baba went around a few more laps, Larry, who had wandered off somewhere in the temple by himself, had come back.
"Are you guys enjoying the exercise?"
"We sure are."
"I'm going to head over to buy some fish over there."

He walked over, outside the temple, to a row of women selling fish swimming in buckets of water:

Baba had come back. "What's Larry up to?"
"He's going to go buy some fish for some reason."
"Oh yeah, he told me earlier. Apparently he's buying the fish to release them back into the wild."
"Oh yeah?"
"Unfortunately, the only place to release them is that stream under the bridge over there."
"I see."
"And of course, all the people selling the fish have to do is to recapture the fish downstream and sell them again to foolish people who want to save the fish!"
"Hahaha!"
"I knew Larry wasn't all that bright, but I didn't think he was this silly!" We roared with laughter, and walked over to watch Larry do his thing by the bridge:

After he released the fish, dropping it a good 20 feet to get back into the water, Larry explained himself, "I know the fish will probably be caught again, but it doesn't matter. It's the spirit of the gesture that counts."

Perhaps. But we're also supporting people who make a lame living by continuously capturing and re-capturing fish, then selling and re-selling it to people who want to free them.

We then crossed the bridge, over to the other side, which was a much less developed area. Up ahead, there was a small community of primitive houses behind a set of walls.

"Let's go visit some Tibetan houses," Larry suggested. We followed, not sure yet how to explain to the locals there that we were just here randomly to visit and take a look at their houses. But we let Larry handle that.

After we got in and wandered around for a few minutes, Larry spotted a villager and called to him. "Hey! We are visitors to Ruoergai! If you have time, will you introduce this place to us?" The man, one of the villagers, agreed. He took us to his home:

Where we were greated by a very fierce zang'ao (藏獒 - Tibetan Mastiff) chained to a post:

Tibetan Mastiffs are known as the one of the fiercest and most loyal dogs in the world, only obeying his master, and ruthlessly attacking all outsiders. The Tibetan man scolded his dog, hitting it with a stick as it tried to break its chain by sprinting towards us, barking ferociously.

We walked past the dog safely, and to the house, which had animal bones hanging from the roof. We entered:

It was not very big, but quite colorful, as many Tibetan designs are. The man continued to show us around for a bit more before we took our leave and headed out of the village.

As we walked out of the village, we noticed there were a ton of schoolkids coming out.

Some kids were walking, others were hanging out by the store:

School had let out, and there were kids with their colorful coats and bookbags, coming out in whichever direction, all heading home, which was generally in the same direction as us. Larry went to say hi to them, and the kids gathered around him curiously:

More and more kids come, trying to see what the commotion is all about:

"Hello! How are you?" Larry asked them in Mandarin. They were too shy to answer. "You guys speak Mandarin, right?" They nodded. "What are you guys studying?" One of the kids took out a book out of his schoolbag and handed it to Larry. "I see! Let me read to you!"

After Larry finished reading, in dramatic fashion, one of the poems out of their textbooks, the kids clapped their hands in approval. Then they took a group picture:

"Can you guys show me where your school is? I want to go take a look." The kids led Larry to the school courtyard:

While Larry continued hanging out with the kids, Baba and I decided to take a rickshaw back first. However, a few minutes later, Larry also came back, riding his own three-wheeler!

"How'd you get permission to ride?" we asked in amazement.
"I met this nice lady who let me borrow her rickshaw!" He was carrying the lady, the owner of the cart, in the back.

I gave it a try as well; however, it was difficult to control, as the steering wheel had a tendency to turn to the left side all the time. A steady hand is needed to hold it straight. After a few minutes, I managed to get around successfully:

We headed back to the hotel afterwards. While we were quite full so we didn’t really want to get dinner, our feet were rather tired from all the walking around.
"Why don't we get a foot washing?" suggested Baba.
"Where do you find them around here?" I asked.
"I saw one earlier in the day when we dropped by the ATM; it's not too far from the hotel. However, when I went to take a look, the front desk people weren't too nice and didn't look like they were interested in getting any business."
"Where else then?"
"There's probably tons of places around here, though it's important to separate out the legitimate places from the shady ones. We just have to go out and take a look," Larry responded.

So we head back out of the hotel to look. As we got to the main street, we found another three-wheeled rickshaw driver.
"Do you know where we can find a place to get a foot washing?"
"Yes I do."
"Where is it?"
"Get on. I'll take you there."
"Why don't you just tell me?"
"You'll have to ride to find out."
"How much are you charging?"
"Just 3 RMB. One for each person."
"You want all three of us to get on? How will we fit??"
"It won't be a problem."

We get on, the three of us clumped together, standing in the vehicle, as it wouldn't fit us sitting down. The driver managed to pedal us around the corner... and seconds later, we arrived at the foot washing place by the ATM!
"No, this place won't do!" Baba cried. "They have bad service. We'll have to go somewhere else."
"Alright," the driver said. He pedaled back to the main road, and then took it towards the end, to the other side of town.

We saw nothing on the way, and as we neared the end of the street, facing the pitch black emptiness ahead of us, it became apparent that our driver didn't know of any other places. "It looks like there aren't any more places. I'll just bring you back to where I picked you up," he said, resigned. At that point we spontaneously burst into laughter.

"Poor guy!" howled Baba, as the man struggled to pedal us back. We were probably over 500 pounds in total, and he had already pedaled 10 minutes. All for 3 RMB.

We hummed songs as he pedaled, perhaps in a subconscious effort to comfort him. Instead, it probably only added to his misery, highlighting the difference between our conditions.

We finally got back. The driver had pedaled 15 minutes without getting us anywhere, after his scheme to rip us off by charging us 3 RMB to pedal us around the corner backfired. He slouched his shoulders forward, exhausted. Baba paid him 50% tip - 4.5 RMB total ($0.70 USD) - for the experience.

We headed back to the hotel and discussed our plans. Referring to the map, a picture I had taken at the bus station,

we plotted out the rest of the trip. "The main thing I'd like to do is to take a look at the areas hit by the Sichuan earthquake," I stated.
"The epicenter is near Wenchuan and Dujiangyan. Let's take this route - it'll get us to the heart of the earthquake," Larry suggested. He pointed out the road that goes back to Songpan (松潘), then down to Maoxian (茂線), Wenchuan (汶川), Dujiangyan (都江堰), and finallY Chengdu(成都).

According to the map, the distances were:
143km Ruoergai (若爾蓋) - Chuanzhushi (川主寺)
17km Chuanzhushi (川主寺) - Songpan (松潘)
140km Songpan (松潘) - Maoxian (茂縣)
44km Maoxian (茂縣) - Wenchuan (汶川)
94km Wenchuan (汶川) - Dujiangyan (都江堰)
52km Dujiangyan (都江堰) - Chengdu (成都)

"How will we get there?" Baba asked.
"Why don't we hitchhike?" I suggested. "We haven't gotten to do that yet."
"Let's do it then! Tomorrow I will show you how it's done."

Portrait of BaoZhu

2008-11-12T00:46:00.001-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

We soon met an affable older gentleman. His name was 寶珠 (BaoZhu, translates to "Precious Jewel," a somewhat peculiar name for him, even in Chinese), and he was a herdsmen in the Ruoergai area.

Larry started speaking to him in Sichuanese, and while I understood most of what Larry was saying, it was harder to catch BaoZhu's accent. He had a tendency to say, “Oh ja!” a lot. It was apparently the lingo up here, the way to say good, or to express some kind of positive affirmation.

What I could make out from the conversation is that he owns 200 heads of cattle, and is from Baxi, a town about 30-40km (20-25 miles) to the east of Ruoergai. What made him more interesting is he had the opportunity to travel around when he was in the army for six years, starting back in 1962. He went all over China, and thus his perspective was wider, less provincial.

Anyhow, he was explaining what it was like to live up in Northern Sichuan. The living conditions are rough, as the air is thin and dry, and there’s not much around. Because of the poor living conditions, many Tibetans also suffer from some kind of fairly uncommon disease, which causes their joints to swell uncomfortably.

As we talked, people gather around us to see what the commotion was all about. They were curious to see outsiders talking to locals. Another Tibetan stopped by, and Larry started to talk to him too, but it was apparent he did not have the same level of education or broadness of experience. He soon left us. Meanwhile, I was left with BaoZhu for a few minutes, and asked him a couple questions. He understood me and responded, but I couldn’t really make out what he was saying, so I just nodded and smiled.

Larry and Baba turned their attention back to BaoZhu, and Baba asked him why he wears his coat on only one shoulder. He replied that sometimes it gets too hot outside, and so he take it off partway, but doesn’t want to take it all the way off in case it gets cold again. Also, having an arm free from the coat makes it easier to do things with that arm. We though it was indeed a very interesting and potentially good idea, so we decided to try it ourselves:

Then we saw the idea wasn’t BaoZhu’s - we looked around, and saw almost everyone in Ruoergai was wearing the same style! We were amazed; it was hilarious how we did not notice.

Two guys walked down the street towards us, with half a coat on, dressed like characters out of a wuxia novel. A few women passed by, also dressed in the same style.

We asked BaoZhu if he wanted to eat, but he said he had already eaten. So we bid him farewell, and continued our search for dining company.

Looking for Hungry People in Ruoergai

2008-11-12T00:45:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

In the morning, despite our original plans, Larry woke us up early. "I have an idea, let's go to Ruoergai (若爾蓋)!"
"Where is that?" I grumbled, still half-asleep.
"It's a couple hours to the northwest of Songpan by car. I've never been there but heard it's quite interesting. Lots of Tibetan and Qiang minorities. And I met a driver who is willing to take us there for 40 RMB a person!"
"What about the lawyers?"
"They'll understand... we'll just tell them later. I'm sure the two of them will have a great time going horseback riding in Songpan."

And so the three of us got our stuff ready, and headed down to the car, a "bread van." The driver was a Mr. Kemu (克木), and he was taking a bunch of people (we were 6 people total) with him. I dropped one of the lawyers a text message while in the car, wishing them a safe journey. We were on our unexpected way once again.

Larry then brought out the bread he had bought this morning in Songpan. It was a huge loaf (or perhaps pie or cake, given the shape), and it only costs 5 RMB. We shared the bread for breakfast, but could not come close to finishing:

On the ride, as the elevation was ever-increasing, we saw plenty of yaks, also called maoniu (毛牛) in Chinese (it translates to "hairy cow"), grazing in the fields:

As we neared Ruoergai, Mr. Kemu veered off the main road – apparently he didn’t want to pay the 30 RMB toll up at the both ahead (to the left):

Instead, he headed for the side dirt path (on the right) that only costs 5 RMB, which he paid to a local:

This dirt path was extremely bumpy, though luckily it was quite short and just a cut around the tollbooth station. In a few minutes, we arrived in Ruoergai.

Mr. Kemu and the passengers alighting the "bread van:"

This is Ruoergai. At first glance, it looks like a small frontier town:

Of course, it has a much different from most Chinese towns, and even Songpan, which is just two hours away. Ethnic minorities roam the streets; they had dark skin, but red cheeks, due to the high altitude. There seems to be lots of idlers just hanging out by the main road, perhaps they were waiting for transportation or just had nothing better to do, but it seemed like a troublesome town. Police cars patrolled the streets regularly. Maybe it was just me, but it seems like there was tension in the air.

We go and use the bathroom by the bus station, which costs 1 RMB.

Though usually people have to pay me to use restrooms of this quality. I let them off the hook this time.

We looked around for a place to stay. The cheap hostels unfortunately also had terrible bathrooms and no showers. We could have done it, but Baba didn't feel like roughing it again. Instead, we found a nice 3 star hotel:

We negotiated down the price to 160 RMB for a room that would fit the three of us, as it is off-season. After dropping our stuff off, we head over to eat lunch at a restaurant on the main road. The selection was pasted on the wall:

Larry recommended the Big Plate of Chicken (大盤雞), which by itself, was enough for the three of us. However, Baba wanted some of Xinjiang's famous Hand-Grabbed Lamb (手抓羊) and a ramen, while I wanted to have some 羊肉泡沫 (Lamb Paomou, a noodle soup with bread dippings instead), which I still remember from my trip to Xi'an (西安) four years ago. We asked the owner if there was a smaller size for the Big Plate of Chicken – he said there was, but it was only 45 RMB instead of 50 RMB for a small "Big Plate of Chicken." Given there wasn’t much difference in price, there was no point.

To break the impasse, I suggested, "Why don't we just go find some people to eat with us?"
Larry asked, “Who? It’s already close to 2pm!” I saw a beggar outside the shop:

He was missing half of a leg but I'm sure he was still hungry. So I said, “I know there are beggars outside the street. Maybe we can invite them in."
Larry disagreed, “No! We have to be very careful, lest they ruin the atmosphere. You never know what kind of character you would bring in on the street!”

“Well I’m sure there’s someone still hungry. Let's go look anyhow... after all, this is your specialty!”
“My specialty??!” Larry laughed good-naturedly. So we placed our order for all four dishes even though we knew we had no chance to finish it ourselves.

Larry and I headed out of the restaurant to look for potential diners. On the main street there were the usual suspects, people waiting around and being idle. I asked Larry if any of them will do. “No, I don't think so. We must be wary of the people around the train station. But maybe we can wait around for backpackers to get off the bus. They are the safest.”
I was skeptical. “At this time of the day?”
“Perhaps there are still buses that come in.”
“Okay, but we don’t know when the next one will come.”
“You see, the main problem is, it’s already close to 2pm. Everyone has eaten who wants to eat...”
“I'm sure that is not true... perhaps most people have eaten but surely there are still some who have not.”

All we needed was someone hungry in this city and who is pleasant enough to provide good conversation and not to ruin our atmosphere. We looked around desperately. Time was running out, and we were hungry. Could we find someone before our meal arrives?

Birthday on the road in Songpan & Mounigou

2008-11-11T00:44:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

And so we met up at 8am at the front lobby before heading out to Songpan (松潘), our first stop. While we ate the breakfast noodles, the two taxi drivers we had reserved were already at the hostel with their cars. Shortly after, the 8 of us - Larry, Baba, Jerry, Dou, Li, Wei, Kang, and Jin - piled into the two cars for the two hour drive.

On the way we stopped for a few scenic pictures.

Highway winding through the mountains:

Baba and Larry in a "photo duel":

After a few stops for the paying bathroom and clementine oranges, we arrived at Songpan and its spectacular city walls.

North Gate. A statue of Princess Wencheng (文成公主) and Tibetan King Songtsän Gampo (松贊干布) stands in front of the entrance, commemorating the political union that brought peace between the Tang Dynasty and the Tibetan people:

Inside the walled city:

We didn't get much time to tour Songpan since the girls were running short on time, as their flight was scheduled to leave at around 3:30-4pm. Instead, we decided to proceed first to Mounigou (牟尼溝) and come to Songpan on the way back, as it was on the road back anyhow. Mounigou, like Jiuzhaigou, is also a "gou" (溝) or gully, and it is split into two parts, a collection of lakes called ErDaoHai (二道海) and Zhaga Waterfall (扎嘎瀑布). We decided to go to Erdaohai first:

Tickets were 140 RMB for both sites, though slightly more expensive (perhaps 75 or 80 RMB) for only visiting ErDaoHai or Zhaga Waterfall. However, when we arrived, we discovered we were pretty much the only ones there. In addition, there doesn't seem to be much development on the site for tourists. For example, the roads, compared to the nicely laid walkways of Jiuzhaigou, were muddy paths:

Maybe Mounigou is always this quiet and uncommercialized. Or maybe it was just that time of the year:

While we did not know at the time, that was part of the charm of Mounigou. No one was there - we were in a secluded - almost seemingly private - environment, alone with Nature, for our own viewing pleasure.

As we walked onwards in the mud-trodden path for the first mile or so without seeing anything but barren trees in the snow, the girls were starting to question whether there was anything at all worth seeing. Ahead, a couple other visitors were coming towards us the other way. We greeted them and asked them if there was anything worth going ahead for.

"Oh yes, there definitely is!" one of them responded.
"It absolutely gorgeous!" the other quipped.

Spurred on by the encouraging signs, we marched ahead, and after another few hundred meters, we finally came upon the lakes:

The waters there were still. Perfectly calm. No ripples, running waters in or out of the lake. They were so green and clear, so serene.

The colors weren't as bright and varied as those found in Jiuzhaigou, but the shades were different and beautiful in their own way.

Some of the lakes had just a thin sheet of ice starting to form on top:

In other areas with moving water, the effect, though on a much smaller scale, is similar to Jiuzhaigou's "water overflooding the forest" scenery:

Here the water is very clear, and deceivingly shallow:

However, the water level does seem lower than it's supposed to be. For example, according to the maps, there should be a real lake here instead of a "grass lake":

Finally, we made it up to the top, where there was a public hot (or rather, cold) springs:

The girls didn't really have time to enjoy it, and so I walked down with them to ensure they would make it on time to catch their plane. On the way back down, we took a slightly different path, and managed to see some new scenery. There were a couple lakes with very blue waters:

And one that, perhaps due to the lighting, looks like florescent green:

Towards the end, Wei spotted a small Tibetan boy sitting alone in the grass. We went to say hello, but he doesn't talk to strangers:

We got back down to the bottom of the park and accompanied them to the taxi. After saying goodbyes, I rushed back up to the top (which was not easy, given the elevation was still at 3,000meters+ / over 10,000 feet) and back to the spring. It was empty, as before:

Baba had already tried it and gave his full recommendation: it was the best experience on the trip so far! He had already told the lawyers, who had tried it earlier and loved it as well. In fact, he said he wouldn't mind going again. And so we jumped in:

Immediately, the sensation of the slightly chilly water hit me, but that was barely noticeable compared to what I felt next: pain shooting up through my entire skin! The bath had NaHCO3 in it, and the carbonated water made it feel like as if I was being stabbed with sharp needles all over my body. I was basically bathing in soda water! The strongest sensation was on the eyelids when I stuck my head underwater. Unable to swim for a more than a few strokes, and unable to stand the pain for more than a few minutes, I got out, feeling exhilaratingly refreshed.

We got out and tried the indoor springs as well. The bubbles there were even more vicious, and I got out after no more than a minute. It's amazing how exposure to non-damaging pain will make normality feel so wonderful.

Afterwards, we rushed back down to catch the lawyers going back down to the entrance. We met up at the taxi and took the car to the entrance of Zhaga Waterfall:

The first part of the waterfall resembled Jiuzhaigou once again, with water overrunning a forest of trees:

But unlike Jiuzhaigou, we were once again, the only folks there at the time. Continuing on, we see Zhaga Waterfall itself, the largest calcified waterfall in China:

Towards the top, there was a cavern under the waterfall. It was called Water Curtain Cavern:

Legend has it that Sun Wukong (水帘洞), the Monkey King from the classic Chinese novel Journey to the West (西遊記) used the lair as the place to train and rest. When we went back, Larry, who had gone with the girls in the taxi to the airport, asked, "How did you like Zhaga Waterfall?"
"It was alright, pretty nice... though the springs at ErDaoHai were much better!" we answered.
"That's because you don't know how to enjoy Zhaga Waterfall," he said smugly.
"What do you mean?"
"Did you know... you can rush to thru the waterfall to get into Water Curtain Cavern?? That's what I did once! It was absolutely exhilarating! So much fun!"

We looked at each other, not sure whether to believe our crazy friend.

We got back to Songpan for a meal together at a Hui Muslim restaurant. The food was quite flavorful, but they added too much MSG. We treated one of our drivers, Mr. Luo (羅東), to the meal as well.

We reflected on our trip thus far. We all enjoyed Mounigou, and compared and contrasted it with Jiuzhaigou. Larry drew an analogy – while Jiuzhaigou is the flashy, popular, ostentatious celebrity, Mounigou is like the quiet yet sweet little beauty, charming in her own way.

As the meal finished, Larry brought out the birthday cake that he somehow had managed to procure in Songpan:

They sang the birthday song, and after I blew out the candles and made my wishes, we headed out to walk around Songpan, enjoying the scenery at night:

Then we headed over to the hostel, where Larry managed to negotiate a special price. It was off-season, but for 25 RMB per person, with electrical blankets and hot water, this hostel was way too nice!

The day was a fine way to start my 26th year.

Jiuzhaigou - Day 2

2008-11-10T00:41:00.000-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

I woke up around 4-5am by accident; perhaps because it was still much colder than I was used to. I tried to go back to sleep, but Larry got up soon after, an exclaimed, "I have an epitome! Do you want to hear it?"
Baba, who was only half awake, groaned, "Um... maybe later."
"Why don't you write it down? We'll listen when we're awake," I added.

When I finally got back up, Larry explained, "I thought of a new philosophy. It's called... 'No fear!' So the philosophy is about no fear... don't fear anything."
"Okay..."
"This means one thing you should never fear is if you have no money. For example, one time, while traveling on the US West Coast, I forgot my wallet back at the hotel, which was more than a hundred miles away. But I had no fear in my heart. The first thing I did was look for fellow backpackers. Soon, I met a couple of them, conversed with them, befriended them, and they gave me a dollar. I used that to take the bus. From there, I walked out to the highway to hitch a ride. After a few minutes, a nice German couple stopped for me and took me all the way back to the hotel. Even if I didn't run into them, I'm sure after walking a bit longer, I'd meet someone nice enough who would."
"I see."
"Anyhow, I bring this up because I sensed there was some fear amongst our group. Yesterday, as we were lugging our stuff up here, there was a guy standing out by the bus stop, threatening to check our passes today (both the entrance pass and the bus pass is only good for one day), trying to give us some trouble. And last night, the others from Shenzhen expressed some concern over how we should handle this."
"What do you propose?"
"We should have no fear - just go directly to management and protest!"

And so over breakfast with the rest of the group, Larry addressed the issue some more.

"From what I can tell, those collecting the entrance fees are part of a completely different department than those that check the bus passes. And so the easiest way to bypass the whole thing issue is just to walk, not use their buses at all. However, if you want to use the buses, maybe we can circumvent the checkers by walking to the next stop. After all, since they know there are Tibetans living here and housing visitors, they're all the more vigilant in this area. After all, in the 15 years that I've visited, I've never once actually had someone check my ticket."

He continued, "But what we really ought to do though, is to go directly to management, and protest this inane checking of passes altogether! They charge such high fees, couldn't they let visitors enjoy the park a little longer? After all, how can they expect anyone to see everything in one day? Do they really expect us to pay for a new pass everyday??"

The group murmured in agreement. Larry continued, "After all, Jiuzhaigou Park receives thousands of visitors and generates millions of RMB in revenue everyday. Why are they pennypinching and trying to catch people who love their park so much that they want to stay an extra day or two?"

Once again, we expressed similar sentiment, and Larry boldly forged ahead with the argument for his sympathetic audience. "Furthermore, their greed and drive for wealth has led them to do the unthinkable - with government backing, they have the power and incentives to kick out the native inhabitants of this beautiful land - the Tibetans and the Qiang! They It's time to rise up and speak out!"

Now even the Tibetans, who had stayed silent thus far, gave their affirmation. "They hardly give us any compensation or subsidies," complained Mr. Shi. "Plus, we're restricted in our access in going in and out of the park, as well as other freedoms, like the kind of cars we can buy and use in the park!"
"Don't you have any family or friends who are lawyers?"
"No, we don't know of any."
"Well you do now!" Larry turns to the Shenzhen lawyers and ask, "Is this grounds for a lawsuit?"
"It sure is!" Mr. Kang and Ms. Jin responded.
Everyone laughed deliriously. Larry adds, "See, this is what you need - someone to speak out on your behalf! That's why the American Indians were able to have negotiate those Indian reservations; they had lots of people speaking on their behalf."

Larry continued with his emotional soliloquy, "But you know how many insults these people, the Tibetans, with a proud culture and heritage have endured? They have been wronged so gravely by such injurious and devious people! Their anger has reached so high of a boiling point, that they must have no words to express it! As people with a moral obligation, we must act!"

Everyone left breakfast happy, but as soon as we were done, we only set out to continue our tour of Jiuzhaigou. But as discussed, we decided it was best to avoid the bus stop in front of the Tibetan village and walk up to the next one.

So we followed the waters by the village upstream, past the waterfall to Tiger Lake. The scene there was already beautiful.

We soon came to the next bus stop and walked to the very back, happy that we made it without problems. Suddenly, a voice from the front boomed toward us: "Let's see your bus passes!"

We looked at each other nervously, contemplating whether we should get off or 'fess up. Seeing our uneasy expression, the bus driver continued on, "You can't run or hide! You might as well pay now, otherwise we'll drive you back down, and you'll have to pay the entrance fee as well!"

It was obvious that Dou, Li, and Wei did not want to walk (they were still in high heeled boots, as they had no other shoes), so we ended up each paying an extra 90 RMB for another bus pass. Problem solved.

So we took the bus back up to Five Flower Lake (五花海), where we were yesterday, and started walking back down from there. The day was much warmer and much nicer than yesterday, thus we walked with renewed vigor and appreciation for the scenery.

After passing Five Flower Lake, we continued onto the Pearl Shoal Falls (珍珠灘瀑布), where there was again is that fantastical scene of a river overruning the forest.

It was very similar to the scene back in 2004:

We continued on, and the "river thru a forest" became a standard river:

Around us, and up on the road ahead, were fields of white flowers:

Walking further along, the road wound back into the middle of the forest:

We were now walking along Mirror Lake (鏡海):

By noon, we came upon Nuorilang Falls (諾日朗瀑布), one of the most famous attractions of Jiuzhaigou:

It was about lunch time, but no one was hungry, but we decided to take a bit of a rest, since the girls' feet were starting to hurt again. So we took the bus to Rhinoceros Lake (犀牛海), one stop further down.

While the lake, like just about all the rest of Jiuzhaigou, was also very pretty, it was too big, and we didn't have time to walk around, as we prioritized resting our feet over seeing more of Rhinocerous Lake. Instead, we took a bus down to approximately where Shuzheng Village was, and we walked downstream instead. Looking downwards, we see the water is cut up into several lakes:

However, in the Spring of 2004, there were flowers blooming in this area:

And so we walked across the bridge near those lakes, now around Wolong Lake (臥龍海):

The Tibetan village we stayed at, viewed from across the lake:

However, soon we started paying more attention to our side of the bank:

Caught off-guard by the spectacular colors, I could not help but snap another photo.

And more. So much more.

Soon, we stumbled upon the "Sleeping Dragon" in the middle of the lake:

Which seemed even more clear from this side of the lake than the other side of the lake back in 2004:

We continued on. The scenery was simply spectacular.

And so we walked past not just Wolong Lake, but also Shuanglong Lake (火花海) and half of Reed Lake (蘆節海), though even the beauty of the scenery had a hard time allaying the girls' walking pains. We couldn't help but stop to rest for a bit. It was about 3:15pm, and we still had 1.8 km until we reached the last lake, the Potted Landscape Lake (盆景灘). Sharing some fruits and snacks, we posed for a quick picture:

After another 45 minutes, we finally made it to the Potted Landscape Lake, which was a mini-forest full of these little "bonzai" trees flooded by the river:

Much more colorful than in early Spring, 2004:

Tired, we took the bus back down to the entrance and then a taxi to get back to the hostel, where we would stay for the night. After dinner, we planned, along with both Shenzhen parties, our next step. Since Wei, Li, and Dou were leaving for Chengdu tomorrow afternoon, our choices were limited, and we ended up deciding on visiting the city of Songpan (松潘), and along with it, Mounigou (牟尼溝), a more remote gully also with some spectacular lakes and a majestic waterfall.

Jiuzhaigou - Day 1

2008-11-08T23:40:00.001-05:00

The tale of my Sichuan travels is written as a continuous story and starts on the entry "In Chengdu" on Nov. 5th, 2008. For context and continuity, feel free to start back at that point and read on forward first if you have not already done so.

6am:
The morning air was extremely cold, immediately reminding me of the fact that we're sleeping high above sea level during November in a room without heating. Reluctant as I was to get up, I was stirred when Mr. Guo quietly said goodbye to us all - he was heading back to Chengdu and had to catch the early morning bus. We exchanged contact information, and wished him well. He encouraged us to come visit him in Beijing if we had the chance.

6:45am:
Awakened now, I tiptoed over the cold, hard bathroom floor for my turn with the hot shower. Refreshed, we packed quickly and headed over to the front desk for some breakfast, which the girls were already eating. Baba ordered soup noodles with eggs, tomatoes and pork, but while the three of us slurped our noodles happily, Keiji was looking hesitant.

"Come join us, Keiji!"
"Uh... where are you guys going after breakfast? Are you going to the hotel first?"
"We don't know yet... we're going to figure that out once we get in."
"Ok, I understand. Then I will leave first."

While sad that he decided to go off on his own, we did not want to take up any more of his time.

After our group picture, we said goodbye and Keiji headed out while we finished up breakfast. In a few minutes we were done, and the six of us headed out of the hostel to face the new day.

"So how far is Jiuzhaigou?" asked Baba.
"It's just 800 meters - let's walk it," Larry replied.
"How do we get there?"
"See that bridge over there?" he pointed to the left.

"We just cross it and take a right," Larry instructed. And so Larry was off, walking ahead, when we realized that the girls had not brought packs like us; instead, being from the city, they had brought suitcases and garment bags instead. Furthermore, they were decked out in high heels and makeup - very impressive, as it considerably increased the difficulty level of this outdoor hiking adventure. Baba and I each gave them a hand, carrying the non-wheeled luggage, and we walked swiftly after Larry.

800 meters later...
We reached the park, passing a crowd of people getting off a bus. They looked at Larry and I in astonishment - for we were both wearing shorts in this weather (Larry inexplicably wears shorts all year round, while I grew up in Cleveland). We ignored them and continued onto the entrance after purchasing tickets (which were not cheap: each ticket is 170RMB with student ID or 220 RMB full fare, plus 90 RMB more for the bus pass), where we indulged in a group photo:

"Where are we going first?"
"Let's drop our stuff off at the Tibetan's House first, and then plan from there," suggested Miss Wei, the one who had gone online and organized the trip for the three of them.
"Where is it at?"
She took out her paper printouts. "It says here we just take the bus up to Shuzheng Village (樹正寨), which should be the first stop," she replied.

And so immediately upon entrance, we hopped onto a bus. A guide on the bus addressed the tourists and introduced the park. Jiuzhaigou is of course most famous for its lakes, but its name comes from the nine minority villages in the area, as it literally translates to "Nine-Village Valley" ("Jiu" means "9", "Zhai" is a kind of mountain village, and "Gou" is a gully or valley with streams running through it). Tibetan and Qiang minorities have lived in the area for years, and while some have stayed, many have moved out of the area once given government incentives. While the park has only been open to the public in the last 20 or so years, it has already made it into Zhang Yimou's movie, Hero, during the scene where the warriors battle nimbly on top of the lake.

After a 10 minute ride, we arrive at Shuzheng Village, and lug our stuff up to the top of the hill to the Tibetan's house to check-in. The proprietor was a Tibetan named Mr. Shi (石先生), and he successfully managed to up the price to 50 RMB per person in exchange for nicer rooms. We drop our stuff off, and then tried to plan our next move. Wei pulled out her info sheets.

"According to this, Mirror Lake is best viewed in the morning, and Multi-colored Lake should be seen around noon," she suggested.
Larry didn't entirely agree, but pulled out a map, "Look at this,"

"I'm going to suggest that we go up the right side of the 'Y' first; that's where most of the lakes are at. You won't have time to do both sides of the 'Y' today."
"But it's already 10am, and Multi-Colored Lake is on the other side."
"Hey look, the bus is coming!"

We hurried to the bus, and I ended up going to the left branch of the 'Y' first, to visit Long Lake (長海).

Long Lake is the "Mother Lake," as it feeds most of all the other lakes, as it is the largest lake and lake with the highest elevation in Jiuzhaigou. However, this time around, as compared to Spring of 2004, I couldn't be less impressed. For example:

Long Lake, Autumn 2008:

Long Lake, Spring 2004:

Close-up of Long Lake, Spring 2004:

The ice gives Long Lake a completely different feel. It's even prettier from a side angle:

Long Lake, Spring 2004:

Long Lake, Spring 2004:

While some say the ice looks as if it's "hovering" on top, the ice itself truly looks bizarre - in fact, it looks more like a strange blemish in the photo than anything else.

Anyhow, we were about to move on, when an interesting character started laughing at my shorts:

"I can't believe you're wearing shorts! Aren't you cold??"
"You know, if you don't think it's cold, then it's not cold," I replied.
"Where are you from?"
"We're from Taiwan."
"I've never seen any Taiwanese wear shorts here in this kind of weather..."
"You're probably right... most Taiwanese are exasperatingly afraid of the cold."

He laughed some more, and so I couldn't help but shoot him (with the camera):

11:30
We moved on to Multi-Colored Lake (五彩池):

"Wow! This is absolutely, gorgeous!" Li and Wei exclaimed in unison. Dou concurred, and I had to agree too - here the reverse was true, and my disappointment with this small little lake back in 2004 was quickly erased:

Multi-Colored Lake, Autumn 2008:

Multi-Colored Lake, Spring 2004:

Multi-Colored Lake, Autumn 2008:

Multi-Colored Lake, Autumn 2008:

Multi-Colored Lake, Spring 2004:

Multi-Colored Lake, Spring 2004:

Compared to the spring, the water in the fall has so much more depth and color to it, probably due to the larger overall volume. I suppose in the spring, most much of the water is still frozen (probably up in Long Lake or further up the mountains), whereas it hasn't had time to shrink in size for the winter yet.

From there, we continued downwards by bus, heading over to the right side of the 'Y' in the map.

On the way, we saw the Upper Seasonal Lake (which happens to lack water during this time of the year):

Looking up, we saw that the splendid mountains surrounded us:

And looking up even higher, a magnificent shot of the sky with the sun behind the clouds:

We changed buses at the intersection of the 'Y', and went up the right side, all the way up to the Primeval Forest (原始森林).

As we walked up the trail, we see a disheartened tourist walking towards us from the other direction. He murmured as we walked passed, "Oh my gosh, that place is so far away! You'll never make it! It's so far away that even I had to turn back!" Fortunately, that guy was a wimp, and a few minutes later, we were there:

View out from Premieval Forest:

We took a break and had crackers, fruits, and nuts for lunch, before heading back down. Taking the bus to the next offered stop, we ended up at Arrow Bamboo Lake (箭竹海):

Let's do another quick comparison:

Bridged Walkway by Bamboo Arrow Lake, Autumn 2008:

Bridged Walkway by Bamboo Arrow Lake, Spring 2004:

The water looks deeper in general. Much deeper, in fact:

Arrow Bamboo Lake, Autumn, 2008:

"Let's take a walk around the lake," I suggested.
"Where can we walk?" Baba asked.
"There's a path over there,' I motioned below.

We agreed, and I was happy that we stopped hopping from stop to stop by bus and actually switched into walking around from lake to lake. The day was starting to warm up, and we walked cheerfully on the wooden path. The water was so clear - it was temptingly cool and refreshing.

2pm:
As we rounded Bamboo Arrow Lake (箭竹海) and Panda Lake (熊貓海), we began singing again. This time around, we tried to teach Miss Dou, Li, and Wei a Chinglish song:

Text:
Goodbye,記得我,一天又one day;
Goodbye,記得我,當你faraway.
麻雀singing,
Spring coming,
唱個good song.
Goodbye,請你記得我-o-oh!

Phonetics:
Goodbye, ji de wo, yi tian you one day;
Goodbye, ji de wo, dang ni faraway.
Ma que singing,
Spring coming,
Chang ge good song.
Goodbye, qing ni ji de wo-o-oh!

Translation:
Goodbye, remember me, day after day;
Goodbye, remember me, when you are far away.
Sparrows singing,
Spring coming,
Sing a good song.
Goodbye, please remember me!

They learned with varying degrees of success. In any case, next, we came upon the Panda Lake Falls (熊貓海瀑布):

It seems similar enough to what I remembered from Spring, 2004:

The scenery here was amazing, once again like a river overrunning a forest:

Even looking down at the path ahead of us was a delight:

3:30pm
We continued ahead, until we were at Five Flower Lake (五花海). There was a small tree sticking out in the middle of the lake:

I'm guessing it might have been this same sapling I saw growing out of the water in 2004:

We trudged on, by now the girls were feeling the intense effects of walking in high heels for 6 hours, though I couldn't have felt better myself. They were dying by the time we reached the bridge of the Five Flower Lake:

Which looks very similar as it did back in 2004:

When we reached, and saw the bus stop ahead, we decided to call it a day. It was past 4:30pm, and everyone needed to be officially "out of the park" by 5:30pm.

5:30pm
Having arrived by 5pm, we were hungry and expected dinner to be served on schedule right at 5:30pm. However, it took some prodding for the Tibetans to get around to it. So we first went to examine our rooms, which exceeded my expectation.

Room:

Bathroom:

The facilities were very nice, especially the bathroom. Throw in free dinner and breakfast, and 50 RMB (~$7 USD) is really a bit of a steal.

6pm:

Dinner is finally ready, and what they served was very good. The six of us ate with another couple, two lawyers also from Shenzhen (one pictured above), Mr. Kang and Ms. Jin, who were both from the our same bus. In fact, they were the ones who had moved up when Larry and Baba started singing! Having established newfound rapport with them, we planned some activities for the evening.

The mist had started to roll in.

And the temperature was rapidly dropping, but nonetheless we went for a walk around the nearby lakes, Suzheng Falls (樹正瀑布) and Tiger Lake (老虎海). Jiuzhaigou at night had a completely different feel to it - it was rather dark and completely solitary; there was no one else around, nothing except perhaps the sound of trickling or rushing water as you near the falls. It was also rather hard to capture since there were no lights. We were guided, however, by the bright moonlight.

When we came back, we discovered that the Tibetans had temporarily lost electricity. So while waiting, Larry facilitated introductions between our new lawyer friends and the rest of the group. He started off by introducing Baba:

"Though we met in Taiwan, I did not know him well until he came to China to do business. But when we met up, we went all over the place for a few months, going hiking together, singing songs on the mountains, just like yesterday on the bus. And you know what? Of all the thousands of people I’ve hung out with, I like to sing with him the best… because I sing just a little better than him!

But anyhow, he's actually a very good guy. For example, this time, when we came out today, all you girls had tons of bags, but I just walked ahead... I didn't even bother to turn back and look! Yet he helps... not just him, but his son has to help out as well!

This just goes to say... he's a gentleman. I'm not!
Anyhow, I won’t get into it now, but know that while he has many talents, of course he has tons of faults too, too many to name! I’ll save them for later if he starts to criticize me.”

Next, Larry moved on to me. “Let's talk about his son, Jerry. I first met him when he was 10, visited his house in 1992. Back then, he was really weak! Sure, now he's strong - you can’t tell at all, can you?. But every time I went to his house, we went running. He didn’t like running then.”
“Oh so that's it?” I cut in.
“In fact, we went biking too... before me, he didn't really know how to ride!”
“Yeah right!”
“The only thing I didn't teach him is swimming. His father taught him that, but now he swims faster than me. In fact, when we went to swim in Chengdu, he swam faster than everyone else. This is his father's credit.

But anyhow, he's a very honest guy. A lot of good points, also a lot of bad, but his biggest weakness is that he's bad at army chess! The only time he wins is when his father is the judge!"

We were interrupted by Miss Dou talking with one of the Tibetans. “Hey, when will the electricity come back on?”
“No idea.”
“When did it come on yesterday?”
“Yesterday there was electricity.”
“How long does it usually take?”
“Sometimes half an hour, sometimes half a day…”
“Then maybe another half hour?”
“I think it will be longer today…”
“How much longer?”

The Tibetan guy she was conversing with then walked by, dressed in camoflauge. “Wah! What are you guys doing outside?”
“Hey, why don’t you introduce yourself!” Larry calls to him.
“Introduce myself?”
“Yeah, we try to meet everyone we see, and now it’s your turn!”
“Why don’t we have you sing a Tibetan song?” Wei asks.
“Sing? I can’t sing…”
“No, we don’t need you to sing, just introduce yourself.”
“Forget it. I got nothing to introduce!” The Tibetan guy walks away.

We ended the night sitting outside in our cozy chairs, wrapped in blankets, gazing out at the stars above the mountains. Baba proposed a singing exhibition, and we sang together, out into the open night.