Tibet Itinerary

So the midterm is over. It went well. I knew all my characters, but may have had a few problems with grammar. Overall, though, I was quite pleased with myself and how much I have learned in the past two months!

But now it's time for some fun. Madison and I are spending our "Cultural Travelling Week" (aka Spring Break) in Tibet. We're part of a tour (travelling by yourself in Tibet is not allowed) and have an English tour guide, which means we'll understand what we're seeing! I'll briefly list our itinerary below, but won't go into huge detail. Please go Google or Wikipedia anything you're curious about.

May 24. Train from Qingdao to Beijing.

May 25. Fly from Beijing to Lhasa. Spend the day acclimatizing to the high altitude. We're actually not allowed to shower for two days to prevent catching a cold and then being susceptable to altitude sickness. Alcohol is also forbidden.

May 26. Lhasa.
Visit the Potala Palace, which used to be the residence of the Dalai Lama until the 14th D.L fled to India. It has two sections: The White Palace (residential) and the Red Palace (religious). Then visit Jokhang Temple, which was built by Songtsen Gonpo's reign when he married a Tang Dynasty princess. Many people pilgrimage to this site and circle the temple. We'll spend the rest of the day at Barkhor street, the circular street around the temple where the pilgrims walk. The street is home to artisans, musicians, restaurants, and shops. We will be sure to walk clockwise.

May 27. Lhasa.
Vist Sera Monastery and Drepung Monastery, two of the three important Gelukpa university monasteries. Hopefully, we'll get to watch some lamas debate about Buddhist philosophy, which is conducted by students under the supervision of their teachers.

May 28 Lhasa to Shigatse
Leave Lhasa. Pass Gangbala Mountain. Visit Yamdrotso Lake, one of the three holy lakes in Tibet (with Namtso and Manasarova). Visit Pelchor Monastery and see Gyangtse Kumbum, a 9-story stupa. Kumbum means "tens of thousands" and refers to the multitude of Buddhist images painted and scultped in Gyangtse. There are actually 27,600+ images in the 9 stories. Artistically, it's Tibet's Sistine Chapel. Later, see Zongshan ruins (from a distance) and eventually arrive in Shigatse.

May 29. Shigatse to Rongbuk Monastery.
Take the Friendship way to Tingri. Stop for a bit to organize Everest permits. Continue driving. The way is apparently rough but beautiful--wild grassland, rapid river and high mountains. We will see 4 mountains that are higher than 8000m: Mt. Lhotse(8516m), Mt. Everest(8848m), Mt. Qowowuyag(8201m), Mt Mayalu(8463m). Arrive at Rongbuk Monastery, home to only a few dozen monks. At 5,100 m (16,700 ft) it's one of the highest elevation settlements. We will actually stay overnight at the monastery because it is extremely close to Everest and has a fantastic view. The panorama includes Shishapangma, Mount Everest, Cho Oyu, and Gyachung Kang peaks.

May 30. Everest.
Wake to hopefully see sun rise over a clear Everest. Travel to mountain. Climb to Everest Base Camp at 15,300 m! Take millions of pictures. Descend reluctantly and drive back to Shigatse.

May 31. Shigatse to Lhasa
Visit TashiLumpo Monastery and the tombs of Panchen Lama. Drive back to Lhasa.

June 1. Fly Lhasa to Xian. Fly Xian to Qingdao.

It's going to be exciting! Catch you on the flip side.

Midterm/Last Day

Tomorrow is a comprehensive midterm! Yikes! Our 20 lessons have covered approximately 500 words, but I estimate that there are an additional 100 common characters that we are expected to know in addition. So that's 600 characters to know, as well as a multitude of grammar rules. The week has been spent reviewing--flash cards have been my constant companion. :D

In the grading breakdown, the midterm is worth 30%, the final is 30%, and all other points (unit tests, homework, attendance) comprises the remaining 40%. However, I am done with class after tomorrow. Yup, tomorrow is my LAST DAY OF CLASS! However, as exciting as that idea sounds, I will actually be quite sad to leave my class. I enjoy learning Chinese, especially with my wonderful teachers.

I am going to continue to learn Chinese on my own, but after this week my focus shifts to Beijing Opera; in Chinese this is 京剧 ("Jingju"). I have a large research project to work on, so my "free time" will be spent researching, watching rehearsals and performances, reading, and conducting interviews. There is a Jingju troupe in Qingdao that I will become very well acquanted with. I think I even get to take lessons with an elderly Jingju practitioner! Eventually, all my work will culminate in a very, very long paper.

But my research won't start right away, because after the midterm tomorrow all students have a week vacation for "cultural travelling." Madison and I are headed to Tibet, to visit multiple monasteries and Everest!!! I'll post our itinerary soon. For now, back to studying.

My buddy, Bob

This is Bob, my "little brother."


This is the Wang family; they have adopted me while I'm in Qingdao. Every week we get together to eat, sightsee, or just hang out.


They gave me a huge birthday dinner! The couple in the middle of the back row is one of my teachers and her husband.


We went to just one of Qingdao's beaches!





One week we climbed a mountain to see a rock that looks like Mao Zedong.




On Mother's Day we went to eat at a very fancy German hotel.

Who Wants to Be A Celebrity?

So you want to be famous? Try a little time in China to test out that dream. This exercise will, of course, work best if you are white, American, blond, and blue-eyed (in that order of importance). If you fit any or all of these descriptions, China will offer you an understanding of just how noteworthy you truly are.

-Conversation will falter when you arrive at a location and are noticed. Then, chatter will begin anew as the people who witnessed your arrival notify everyone in the vicinity. Pretty soon all heads will be turned to you as people whisper about your appearance.
-People passing you on the street will stop to stare at you. It is optional to acknowledge their presence.
-People will approach you and ask you to take a picture WITH them. You will learn to accept politely.
-People will approach you and ask for your phone number so they can become your friend. You will learn to decline politely.
-Nearly every store you visit will offer you exceptional service. It will not be uncommon to be ushered to the front of a line or even have a new line opened for you. Similarly, restaurants and airports will offer you special treatment.
-Paparazzi will blatantly take your picture. You will learn the art of looking pleasant while distant. After all, if you look angry, it will send a bad message to the masses observing you, but excessive friendliness will only invite more photographs and then you will never get to your destination.
-Paparazzi will secretly take your picture. You may or may not notice them after the photograph has been snapped. You will cease to wonder what will be done with the potentially unattractive pictures; there are too many in existence to actively concern yourself with all of them.

Essentially, every moment spent in public will not be your own. There will be no anonymity. If this suits you, don that stylish outfit, perfect that strut, and go rule the country, preparing yourself for life as a future superstar. If these scenarios sound less than appealing, perhaps you should reevaluate the glamour of being famous. Or invest in sunglasses.

Afternoon Walk

Sometimes in movies there's a scene where the protagonist is insanely excited. Or maybe he falls in love. Or he realizes that he's been incredibly stupid and sets out to fix it. Whatever the reason, he walks outside and realizes the world is suddenly brighter, more colorful, and full of life. Often, this is achieved by movie magic, accompanied by an upbeat song.

            I witnessed this effect today, but I didn't understand what was happening at first.  During my spontaneous afternoon-walk around town, I couldn't figure out why I kept staring at my surroundings as if I had never seen them before. Eventually, I realized that the ever-present haze enveloping the city (dust, pollution, or mist—depending on the day) wasn't there. Instead, I was privileged to have sunlight and a clear blue sky, which brought everything into sharp focus. Where usually buildings in the distance are fuzzy and nondescript, I could see defined lines. I saw more color than I realized Qingdao possessed. I even saw mountains that I never knew were there. I didn't sing, but I did smile.

            My walk ended at a small lake near campus. Sitting in the grass under a willow, watching sun and wind dance across the water, I realized that I was happy. Not jubilant, like the character in the movie who whistles while jauntily striding down the street, but calm-happy. The feeling that comes when you have a day free of obligations and can escape responsibilities. The feeling you experience when you're alone except for a sturdy tree, the most trustworthy of friends. The type of feeling that seems to promise scabbed, Band-Aid-covered wounds heal (even if they scar) and life moves on. It's a nice feeling.

Priceless Gifts

by Anna Swir

An empty day without events.

And that is why

it grew immense

as space. And suddenly

happiness of being

entered me.

I heard

in my heartbeat

the birth of time

and each instant of life

one after the other

came rushing in

like priceless gifts.

 

From the train

The scenery of China seems to alternate between green and gray.

            Gray is the color of a typical Chinese village. Though often large enough to be termed a town or even a small city by my standards, they are indeed miniscule compared to China's megacities. Villages are stark places, the sharp edges of squat rectangular buildings contrasting with smooth, round pipes and towering cylindrical smokestacks. Cement and brick compete for dominance. The actual colors form a diverse palate of browns, creams, grays, and even yellows, but the faded colors give the overall impression of gray. Or, perhaps more than actual shades, my impression of gray comes from the emanating feeling of dinginess. Each building seems in disrepair, with bricks crumbling, iron rusting, and glass missing. Rusty bicycles weave through piles of wheels, lumber and bricks that often fill a building's wall-enclosed square courtyard. Flat roofs strewn with rocks and bricks further add to the sense of disarray, though serve the purpose of holding down sections of tin roofing.  

            The green, laid out in ordered rows, stretches across vast fields of farmland until it disappears against distant rolling hills. It's a healthy green, seemingly undisturbed by the pollution-blue sky seen across the country. Though different plants curl up trellises, crawl across the ground and straighten into the air, it's impossible to distinguish what exactly is being grown as I peer out the dirty train window. Workers in straw hats occasionally dot the fields; ironically it appears work does not stop even to recognize Labour Day.

            The national holiday of Labour Day is the reason for my train ride. With a three day weekend to fill, I made the long journey to Xi'an, travelling on a train for 22 one-way and 26 hours back. Though it is a tediously long trip, watching hours of similar villages and fields sweep by gives me an appreciation for how expansive this country is, as well as an idea of life in interior China. It is a life of dedicated work and simple pleasures, like the white-pink blossoming cherry trees whose shade is carefully cleared of rubble and trash.

            As I sit on my shiny-red train and watch scenery sweep by, I am humbled to glimpse brief flashes of real life. Two old men lounging on a faded orange couch, smoking and watching the trains go by.  A blue-shirted toddler plodding along empty railroad ties as his mother walks protectively behind. Twin yellow mopeds streaking through small pools of water collected on a dirt road. An open red-and-white-striped umbrella hovering above the ground, caught between the walls of two close houses. These are the colors of China that I see, nose pressed to the window as everyone on the train naps around me.  

Breathe In and Relax

I've been having problems getting blogs to post for the past few weeks. Let's see if this works!

I stepped out of the train station in Xi'an and immediately started doing two things: sweating and coughing. Though the heat was welcome after still-chilly Qingdao, I was less enthused by the almost-tangible pollution. Looking at the sky, I could see a gray haze enveloping the city. Thankfully, a breeze was present for our few days in Xi'an, cleaning the air enough that my coughing didn't persist, but I could always feel the grime sticking to my sunscreen-coated skin. At night, I blew my nose to find it gray and noticed my new white shoelaces weren't quite so white anymore.

            The air aside, I thoroughly enjoyed Xi'an. The weekend was peaceful and stress-free, a welcome respite from recent life in Qingdao. Other than visiting the warriors, we had no set plans in Xi'an so Saturday found us wandering around the city. We ended up in the Muslim Quarter, a maze of streets crammed with small stores selling souvenirs and artwork. Getting to an eye-catching store was often a process as the narrow streets were filled with rickshaws and mopeds, while the sidewalks were home to vendors and snack carts selling unleavened bread, nuts, prunes and more. Nestled deep in the heart of the Quarter was the mosque, easily mistaken for a traditional Chinese building if not for the sign.

            As evening approached, I hypothesized that the sunset might be beautiful (there is an urban legend that pollution accentuates color), so we climbed the wall surrounding the city. From the top of the wall, we had a good view of the city but not of the sun, which sank out of sight into the pollution cloud long before it sank beneath the horizon. Many people on bicycles passed us as we strolled (it's a popular activity to bike along the wall). I noted that while the rental places offered a helmet along with the bike, they were never taken up on their offer!

            On Sunday we joined fellow travelers from our hostel on a tour to the Terracotta Warriors. Actually, after learning the meeting place/time in case someone got lost from the tour, we purposefully lost the tour and went to explore on our own!

            The first emperor of the Qin Dynasty, Qin Shi Huang, conquered neighboring states to unite China for the first time. He codified the legal system, created an administrative system, standardized a written script, and supervised the connection of walls into the Great Wall. The emperor took the throne when he was only 13, then immediately began construction on his tomb. Over 8,000 life-size clay statues of warriors, chariots, and horses were created to defend his tomb and help the emperor rule another kingdom in the afterlife. Each statue is unique, with individual facial expression and insignia.  Even more remarkable than the hundreds that have been unearthed is the knowledge that there are probably thousands more still buried.

            There are three main pits, each of which has been covered with a large roofed building and outfitted with viewing areas along the perimeter. We began in Pit 2, an area that has just begun to be renovated. Along the edges of the pit, the initial findings can be seen: a broken horse's foot, the cracked edge of a tunic, a disembodied head, a graveyard emerging from red dirt.

            Pit 3 is smaller, almost completely uncovered and host to more complete figures. Four horses stand proudly while soldiers guard against the ganders of death. Pit 3 was my favorite because it was small enough to walk around easily and see all sides of the statues.             Pit 1, the biggest and most daunting in terms of sheer scope. The building that houses Pit 1 is easily the size of a football stadium; only 1/3 has been uncovered so far but even that much is impressive. Gazing down at the tomb, rows and rows of men at attention stare blankly back. The array made me wonder just how terrified the emperor was of death to build thousands of clay warriors that could symbolically protect him.

            I also wondered how in the world no one remembered this undertaking occurred! China has a well-documented history, but the making of the Terracotta Warriors was forgotten, only discovered in 1974 when a team of farmers began to dig a well and discovered it. For interesting facts about the discoverers and what they are doing now, see: http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/news/article-23411521-curse-of-the-terracotta-army-how-those-who-discovered-relic-suffered-ruined-lives.do

            Sunday evening we went back to the Muslim Quarter to buy small statues of the soldiers, as well as pick up other gifts. The role of barterer fell to me and I was ruthless, demanding a fair price instead of the tourist price. My tactic is to speak in Chinese and be polite but firm, offering the price I am willing to pay and not budging while the seller steadily comes down. Eventually it reaches a point where the seller tells me they can go no lower, so I say "I understand, thank you for your time" and walk away. When they call me back (it works every time), I know I've gotten the deal. I also know that they won't sell anything if they don't make a profit so all the grumbling is for show and I've likely gotten closer to the price a Chinese buyer would get instead of the price a random white tourist pays.

            The craziest bargaining story is that of the hunt for statues. I can't say what kind, as I got two and am giving one as a gift to my dad (Sorry, Dad, it's a secret!).  I'd been looking at the statues at several different places, where the average price was 85 RMB. I decided I would be willing to pay 50 each and set out to make it happen.

             I ended up at a small store run by a small woman in a head scarf. After "browsing," I casually asked how much it would cost to buy one statue and was told 150 RMB, an outrageous price compared to other stores. Nevertheless, I began the bargaining. "Will you give me a discount if I buy two?" She got out her calculator and punched 250. I shook my head, explaining that I was a student and didn't have much money. I then offered 100 for the pair and was met with more head-shaking. The dance continued, with her coming down to 200 and me declining. Eventually, she found a smaller version of the statue and offered me 100 for the small pair, but I stood my ground. I tried to leave once (as a tactic) but she forcibly stood between me and the door, offering 150. I punched 100 on the calculator again and when she shook her head, I decided to leave for real.

            The tiny woman blocked me again. I tried to shove my way to the door as she gripped my arm to hold me in place; Madison tried to come to my rescue, grabbing the older woman's free arm to propel her away from me. I ended up dragging the surprisingly-strong woman along with me ("Fine, 130! 120!"), eventually utilizing some self-defense training to twist my arm out of her grasp. "Ok, 110!" she hollered as I neared the door, then sighed and got a bag. I smiled, recognizing that even though my heart is pounding and my arm is sore, that I had gotten the better end of the deal. The woman gave me the bag and I gave her 100 RMB. She then demanded 10 more and I fought back, "I always told you 100!" Thankfully, a younger employee had come out of the backroom to watch the end of the transaction (the loud part) and decided that I was right. On the street, I couldn't breathe for a minute, but not because of the pollution! After calming down my fight-or-flight response, I went on my thankfully-uneventful shopping and pleasant weekend in Xi'an! You better like this statue, Dad!