Banana Boy Steps out on his own

Today I made a relatively big leap in terms of speaking with the local people. Up until now, my mom has been doing about 90% of the communication and translation during our time here as my Mandarin skills are non-existent. As I've mentioned before, being Chinese and not able to speak the language adds an extra layer of difficulty that the average caucasian traveller wouldn't encounter. It's as if people here don't believe me when I say "I don't speak Mandarin." They look confused for a second but then just try again, whereupon I sigh and childishly look for my mom.

A couple of days ago, we had some lamb meat on skewers (three for 10 RMB - about $1.50 Cdn) that I quite enjoyed. Seeing as they were sold just underneath our hostel, I decided I would later return and order by myself. I spent the next few days formulating the scenario in my head: I would walk up to the vendor, point at the lamb skewers and say "Saam guh ('Three of those')." Then when I received my order, I'd say "Shyi shyi" gratefully and walk away. Maybe even throw in a little bow if I was feeling particularly Oriental at that time.

However, yesterday, something happened that appealed to my inner-most Asian: I found a better deal elsewhere. This new location also had lamb skewers, but cheaper at five skewers for 10 RMB - not just three like the original cart. Also, it was even closer to our hostel than the other location.

Well this afternoon I found myself feeling peckish with some time to kill, so I decided to go grab some lamb skewers. But I had a dilemma: I knew how to order three of something, but I didn't know how to say 'five' in Mandarin. I could either go with what I knew and practiced, or I could go for more food for the same price. Cheapness won out in the end, and I headed down to the second vendor.

Unfortunately, they only had three lamb skewers and two skewers of some other random meat on hand. But the deal was five for 10 RMB and I intended to get my money's worth, lamb meat or not - so through a mixture of gestures and mumbled Chinglish, I paid my 10 RMB and waited for my order to be cooked. I was little disappointed that I wasn't able to use the few Mandarin words I knew, but happy that I still got my order through.

However, while my food was still being prepared, the cook turned around and asked me "Là huò bù là?" - NOW he was talking my lingo, and I somehow understood and confidently replied "Là." He then nodded and began generously applying chili to my meat. Hot sauce; it flavours your food, betters your health, and bridges the language gap.

$1.50 for all that? We're definitely not at the Richmond Night Market anymore



Flush from the heat of my spicy victory, I ordered another couple skewers of something that looked like either squid or mushrooms. It turned out to be mushrooms (or some sort of fungus at least) and it was equally as spicy and delicious:



We're leaving Kunming and flying out to Beijing today, so until then, 'Zai Jien!'

Goodbye Kunming!

The Stone Forest

Yesterday I came to understand the life of a sheep. All day long we were packed into various vehicles, herded about through strange buildings, fed without choice, driven through the countryside, and led through treacherous stone valleys. All the while I, at least, had no idea what was going on or being said. I just followed along with the rest of the group as we made our way to Kunming's famous Stone Forest.

The inside of a large 'bread car'




Getting breakfast before getting on our tour bus




Morning commute



We got on a tour bus with about 30 other Chinese people and drove off into the morning traffic rush. Our tour guide spent the next couple hours talking incessantly (in Mandarin, of course) into the bus' PA system. Something about ways to avoid insulting the native minority groups we would come across. The only other thing I gleaned from her speech was to not fall asleep as we drove up the mountain, as sleeping during the altitude change can make your head implode or something. Supposedly, her talking was supposed to keep us all awake, but it did the opposite for me as I couldn't understand what she was saying. So I just clapped when everyone else clapped and laughed when everyone else laughed.

We made two stops before lunch - one at a giant jade emporium and another at an even bigger silver store. Thank God for Street Fighter on my iPhone during those times. Finally, we stopped at a 'Chinese Restaurant' for lunch where I was seated at a table full of strangers. I joined in the rapid inhalation of the food that was already there, feeling more and more like dumb livestock with each bite.

Perhaps the most unnecessary sign in all of China



After lunch, we finally arrived at the Stone Forest: a beautiful rocky landscape shaped by the dissolving of bedrock over time. We were divided into groups and directed onto carts that hurtled us through the giant tourist trap, pausing for a few minutes at various viewpoints to get out and take some photos.

Racing through the Stone Forest







The Stone Forest, as much of a tourist destination as it is, is very beautiful and breathtaking. There were also groups of the local native minority about, selling gifts, playing music, and dancing. They seemed to only know one song and one dance, however. I don't blame them though, as their instruments seemed to be limited to a whistle and a drum with three strings.

Play that song again. And again. And one more time. And again.




Captain Morgan visits the Stone Forest




No trumpeting at the Stone Forest?







After a couple hours of being paraded through the Stone Forest by a flag-wielding tour guide, we were herded back onto the bus and driven back into the city. Once there, we disembarked and were coerced into a large room with comfy chairs. Employees began filling buckets at our feet with hot water and a suspicious looking powder. Looking around, I saw everyone removing their footwear and soaking their feet in the water, so I followed along. Next, an old man in a white coat entered the room and began a lengthy lecture (I can only surmise that he was warning us of the evils of athletes foot). Finally, a horde of uniformed attendants descended upon our group with towels and began massaging our feet while simultaneously trying to sell us various medicines. Very sneaky of them.

There's a catch somewhere



Finally, after about an hour of trying to flag down a taxi, we made our way back to the hostel and had some delicious noodles and tofu. And saw one of the most dangerous/odd/awesome things yet:



What a confusing day. I'm going to go play some more ping pong.

Kunming

We've been in Kunming for two days now and I've been playing a lot of ping pong. I really am discovering my inner yellow in this country it seems. The hostel we're staying at this time is called "The Hump," named after the eastern end of the Himalayan Mountains, which the famous Flying Tigers air force flew over, using Kunming as a base. It's also where my grandpa worked as a mechanic for the Tigers when he was my age. Also, their Wal-Mart-like department store carries a variety of nunchaku (right next to the ping pong balls, of course), which is pretty rad:



Kunming itself is quite beautiful - a little more colourful and charismatic than Chengdu so far. It smells a lot worse, however, as a warm breeze usually carries a generous waft of sewer air with it. There also seems to be more families with children here, as opposed to Chengdu, where we saw mostly young adults dominating the streets.

There are a lot of little me's running around here



One of the blind masseuses in Kunming



Asian photographers, past and present



Some of you have already seen this, but now I've been able to finally post my timelapse of Kunming as seen from the roof garden of our hostel in better quality on Vimeo:

Kunming Timelapse from Jordan Lee on Vimeo.

20 hours on a Train

We rolled into the parking lot across from the massive Chengdu Railway Station yesterday afternoon. Once the van was unloaded, we surveyed the 300 or so metres of vehicle and pedestrian traffic that we'd have to traverse to reach the station. It felt like we were the survivors of a zombie apocalypse about to make a break through the undead horde.

With a deep breath and a firm grip on our luggage, we dove into the masses, never stopping, always fighting and pushing to reach our destination. Once we made it inside, things didn't get much better. After making it through security (which included getting almost inappropriately felt up by one of the female guards), we made our way up to the densely packed waiting area and soon boarded our train.





As soon as I stepped onto the train, my senses were assailed by the hot smoky air. Luckily, I got used to it pretty quick and claimed my bottom hard-bunk. One of the first things I noticed was a metal dish right next to my head on the side table. It soon became apparent that it was intended for the convenient expectoration of the five other occupants of my compartment. I just hoped the ones on the very top bunks had good aim.

Literally spitting distance from my pillow



Having a bottom bunk has its pros and cons - you have the easiest bunk access and the most storage space, but it also means that strangers who have middle or top bunks are constantly sitting on the foot of your bed when not sleeping. The first visitor to my mattress was one of the heaviest (by Chinese standards, at least) guys I've seen so far on this trip. His appearance and mannerisms reminded me of Po, the kung fu panda. I hoped that his significant weight wouldn't be spending the night in the flimsy bunk above mine. Luckily, his bunk ended up being on the other side of my compartment - right above my sister's.

Our heavyset friend



The ride itself was pretty nice. The passing scenery was straight out of a Jet Li movie with misty rolling hills, ancient-looking villages, and mountain waterfalls. Most abundant, however, were fields upon fields of yellow-flowered plants. "So much yellow," my sister remarked. "Well, this IS China," I replied dryly.

Never ending yellow in China. And the fields, too



Getting to sleep was no problem - Drifting off to dreamland on a train monotonously chugging through Asia while surrounded by hundreds of Chinese people? Sounds like my commute home through Vancouver on the Canada Line every day. The only difference is that if I sleep through my stop on this train, I'll end up lost in the middle of China and not just at some mall on Number Three Road.

Ok, maybe even that is pretty similar.

Noodle time




A little bit of cabin fever




Breakfast




Taxi driver



Kunming

A Night at the Chinese Opera

Last night we again squished into a Miànbāo qìchē and threaded our way our way through the Chendu nightlife to go see a Chinese opera. I've never seen a Chinese opera, much less a normal opera - so once again, I wasn't really sure what to expect. A recurring theme on this trip, it seems.

When we got to the theatre, there were three women on the stage - two holding a giant scroll/painting and the third reciting what seemed to be a very loud and fast poem about said scroll/painting. "So this is Chinese opera," I surmised. Then the auction ended and the actual show began.

The announcer presenting the acts attempted to introduce the segments in English ('For the tourists,' as the sign read) as well as Mandarin, but her broken pronunciation only added to my already confused state. There was a lot dancing, very odd singing/wailing, skits, and various other acts. I won't go into too much detail, but I believe the following two pictures sum up my experience neatly:

It's as confusing as it looks




And the subtitles don't really make things any clearer



Overall though, the whole show was enjoyable and I left the theatre feeling very cultured and sophisticated, as one is apt to do when pretending to understand mad displays of art and performance. A bizarre but wonderful experience.

Later this afternoon, we will be boarding a sleeper train from Chengdu to Kunming, where will be staying for the next four nights. It's a 20 hour ride, so hold tight for the next update, dear readers!

Pandas, fish stomachs, and dumplings

We went down the street to a local bubble tea shack today. While waiting for our order, I saw two taxis stop at an intersection. Their respective occupants then jumped out of the vehicles and hopped into the other taxi. Perhaps the most legitimate Chinese fire drill I've ever seen.

Earlier this morning, we all piled into a 'Miànbāo qìchē,' literally 'bread car' - an apt name as it describes the vehicle's shape, weight, and apparent structural integrity. After about 20 minutes of driving, we arrived at the Chengdu Panda Base. It was pretty touristy, I'll admit, but I'm a sucker for pandas: They loll around all day, sleeping, munching on bamboo, occasionally doing kung fu as needed - Pandas and I, we get each other.





After that, we went to a hot pot restaurant for lunch. Nobody, not even my mom who ordered, was really sure what to expect. "I don't really know what I ordered," she said. No big deal; I'll eat just about anything. In fact, when we eat fish, my sister and I often fight over who gets to eat the lone eyeball (when two optical orbs are present in the fish though, all's well in the Lee home). However, when the waitress brought a container full of about 20 live squirming fish and dumped the lot into a vat of boiling soup in front of us (but not before one of the fish could escape and jump onto our table), my sister screamed and jumped backwards about two feet.

Things only got worse for her when the fishes' stomachs began expanding, floating on the surface on the soup like translucent buoys, only to eventually pop and sink back into the broth with a sickly fizzle. She ate mostly rice for the remainder of the meal.

Speaking of delicious delicacies, last night our hostel hosted a dumpling making party/contest. Calling upon my extensive duct tape rose-making training, I made a rose (or lotus, as the hostel staff called it) dumpling and won a free drink in the contest! I'd just like to make it known that I beat both my sister AND mom in this contest, both of whom have been mocking my dumpling-folding skills for years. It took a trip to China for my art to finally be appreciated by the experts.

Chengdu

I woke up this morning to the sound of banging just outside my window. I later discovered that there is a pot fixer stationed there. He literally bangs on pots and pans all day long. The noise isn't really an issue though, as people honk their horns constantly, yell all over the place, and treat standard traffic procedures as mere guidelines. Again, pretty similar to Richmond.

Part of the view from the hostel roof




Lopet (which translated is 'bum') vendor




Around noon, we stopped in at the local noodle house for some lunch. I had a tofu dish that even I could only describe as "different." There was some ingredient in it that produced an entirely new taste sensation that I've never felt before - It left your tongue and lips numb and feeling fizzy; my mouth felt like an Alka-Seltzer tablet bubbling and dissolving in a glass of water.

Tofu on drugs?




Tea's pretty good here, though I still miss my Roll up the Rim



After that, we began trekking to some park, a lot of which involved a regular game of Frogger at every intersection. As I mentioned before, traffic rules don't really apply here.





When we reached the park, I came across one of the craziest sights I've ever seen: Hundreds of people in an open square just...dancing. And all among them were people flying kites, playing badminton, and singing karaoke.





So yeah, China's kinda weird.

Shanghaied

It’s about 3am PST (6pm China time) as I write this while sitting in the airport terminal in Shanghai. We’ve just completed the first leg of our trip – a 12 hour flight from Vancouver to Shanghai. That number shatters my previous flight time by a factor of three. Right now we’re waiting for about three hours for our next flight to Chengdu, which is about three hours away and where we’ll be staying for a few days.

EDIT:
It’s now 11am PST (2am China time) and we’ve just arrived at our hostel in Chengdu. That’s 24 hours of straight travel with 1 hour of sleep! Bring it.

On the plane


Bored


Checking into our hostel


In the past 24 hours I have:

Seen my mom just about maim the hand of some poor security person by accident while trying to expedite the x-ray process

Watched Avatar: The Last Airbender – and it was as gloriously awful as I expected

Crashed my inflight entertainment system by trying to adjust the crappy LCD monitor to achieve better blacks

Thought way too much about the poor encoding and incorrect aspect ratios of the videos in the above mentioned inflight entertainment system

Wandered around the airport terminal trying to find our check-in counter, all the while feeling my luggage cart driving skills deteriorate by the minute as I soak in the culture

Encountered a Chinese water fountain, which is apparently too complicated for my sleep-deprived brain to figure out.

Eaten far more pretzels than I care to admit

Been yammered at in Mandarin countless times. I’m like a fish in the water and yet still totally out of my element.

Overall though, so far so good – China is a lot like Richmond, but with a lot more Chinese people. Picture Aberdeen Mall on Saturday afternoon with a sale going on at NCIX and you’ve pretty much got it.

Chinglish

My flight leaves at 1pm today, but a few post-packing thoughts before I literally get Shanghai'd:

Up until I was about four years old, I spoke Cantonese pretty fluently. Fast forward 16 years and the best I can do is try to order a glass of water at a Chinese restaurant, only to have the waiter/waitress misunderstand my mangled pronunciation, whereupon I give up and just order in English.

So when I found out that my family was going to China (my dad, grandma, and I for three weeks, my mom and sisters for three months), I began imagining all sorts of scenarios where I'd be trying to interact with a local in China and all they would see would be another (supposedly) local Chinese person who was simply mentally handicapped and not able to grasp basic communication skills beyond gestures and very poor Chinglish.

Even worse is the fact that my parents and siblings can all speak and understand Mandarin to some degree (while I am limited to 'Nee Hau'), so when they'd see me struggling trying to converse with said local, they would either

a) point, laugh, and take a picture of the situation for their amusement

or

b) intervene with the local on my behalf, and apologetically explain (in Mandarin, of course) "Please don't mind our son/brother - he's slow and had an accident involving chopsticks as a child." And then take a picture.

To be fair, about three months ago, my dad did suggest I begin learning Mandarin on my own. I nodded and agreed that it was a good idea. So being the initiative-taking unprocrastinating type of guy that I am, I waited until last week and used the Google Translate app on my iPhone to begin learning the following phrase:

我不会说汉语

My pronunciation is still pretty lacking though so I may just end up having to resort to gestures and Chinglish after all. Ah well, at least my chopstick skills are on par. I may not know what I'm ordering, but at least I won't starve.