We arrived in HK on Thursday, after that glorious 20 hour train ride I mentioned. Usually I leave the logistical rundown to Ed, but in this instance I'm going to broadcast. And, since we're out of mainland China and not re-upping our visas, I'm going to be perfectly candid. Perhaps the internet monitors will pass my feedback along to the appropriate infrastructure division. Heh.
Traveling between places in China is a pain in the arse. Even when we'd done our research and knew with certainty what we were trying to achieve it was a shit show. Purchasing train tickets to HK required 2 trips to the main train station and 2 trips to satellite offices. Probably 5-6 hours were wasted following directions from hotel staff and China Railway counter people who had not one shred of a clue between them what they were talking about. I mean, I could have used that time to further my study of Confucianism. Or to have more acupressure foot massage.
Eventually, I scored the super deluxe tickets and was assured (believe me, I asked for confirmation more times than was polite) that we would be in a car with only 2 bunks and a private bathroom. And each of us was, just in adjacent different cars, shared with strangers.
This isn't the first or the third time this has happened to us in China. Fortunately, the sweet old man in my lower bunk swapped tickets with Ed, and all was resolved. The rest of the evening, as we shelled peanuts and played cards and watched Modern Family on the laptop, we joked about my doing those things with the 88 year old from Shanghai instead of Ed. About he and I hitting the dining car to share some mapu tofu, lying in our bunks talking about our hopes and dreams, or watching the passing scenery. We were happy it didn't shake out that way, but the montage was hilar.
Overall, we had a blast on the trip here and like the idea of traveling by long distance train again. It went by so fast and was far less stressful and more comfortable than air travel. The one major malfunction was the smoke. Seemingly all men over age 12 in China are chain smokers. I read that 27% of Chinese people don't believe that smoking and lung disease are related. They're chimneys and there is no escaping. Unfortunately on a train without open windows, this means that the ventilation system cycles smoke from the hallway through the cabin vents, where it lands on your pillow. I woke up completely congested and lost my voice the next day.
10 points train travel, 0 points HVAC.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Books
Thanks, everyone, for the book recommendations! Now that we're back in the land of free and breezy internets, I will be a downloading maniac.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Feng Shui, count me among your believers.
Since leaving L'America nearly 3 months ago (I KNOW, it'll be 3 months in a couple of days!), we've really upped our knowledge of every type of accommodation. We've slept in a tent we pitched ourselves during a sandstorm in the Gobi, modern Chinese business hotels, a large and varied rainbow of love motels, a collection of hostels that range from grotty (Hong Kong) to sublime (Beijing), and plenty of gers. Some rooms we stayed in for a night, some for 4, some for longer. And what is just bizarre is that the quality of our sleep varies hugely place to place.
Before coming on this trip, I would have blamed a poor nights' sleep on one of a few factors: comfort of the bed, temperature, brightness of the room, noise. But having now slept in dozens and dozens of strange rooms/tents in a few short months, I've revised my opinion. I know y'all are going to say its a little dippy, but I think that the best nights' sleep are had in the hotels that practice legit Feng Shui.
Case in point... The bedroom in our apartment on 9th street was my platonic ideal of a sleeping environment. This wasn't unintentional; sleeping is my favorite thing to do on earth. Don't be sad; its awesome and I'm very happy with my decision to put sleep first. Anyway, our room. We had a big bed topped by the Cadillac of Nasa-inspired mattress technology. The walls were painted a calming, sleepy taupe and heavy chocolate velvet curtains blocked the sun and noise. And yet, at some point every single night, I would awake in half sleeping panic. I never knew where I was and the dark shapes of doorways and furniture were too near and unrecognizable and scary. I didn't understand what caused the problem, but now I think I know.
In China, there are several chains of boutique business hotels springing up to serve major cities. Places like the Home Inn, the Orange Hotel, and Motel 168 & 268 are a few examples. These hotels are modern, convenient, and built on the principles of Feng Shui. In Suzhou, we stayed at a Motel 168. The bed was one of the hardest we slept on, the room was small, and the street below was noisy. And yet we consistently slept like marathoners, usually straight through 9 hour stretches at a time.
These new joints rely on the principles of Feng Shui rather than high thread counts or Cable (ha), to create comfort. I don't yet know enough about the practice, but you can bet your bottom dollar I'll be learning before I decorate another bedroom. Obviously, Benjamin Moore #1018 (Shabby Chic) can't compensate for the bad juju I created hanging wall mirrors willy nilly. Duly noted, China.
Before coming on this trip, I would have blamed a poor nights' sleep on one of a few factors: comfort of the bed, temperature, brightness of the room, noise. But having now slept in dozens and dozens of strange rooms/tents in a few short months, I've revised my opinion. I know y'all are going to say its a little dippy, but I think that the best nights' sleep are had in the hotels that practice legit Feng Shui.
Case in point... The bedroom in our apartment on 9th street was my platonic ideal of a sleeping environment. This wasn't unintentional; sleeping is my favorite thing to do on earth. Don't be sad; its awesome and I'm very happy with my decision to put sleep first. Anyway, our room. We had a big bed topped by the Cadillac of Nasa-inspired mattress technology. The walls were painted a calming, sleepy taupe and heavy chocolate velvet curtains blocked the sun and noise. And yet, at some point every single night, I would awake in half sleeping panic. I never knew where I was and the dark shapes of doorways and furniture were too near and unrecognizable and scary. I didn't understand what caused the problem, but now I think I know.
In China, there are several chains of boutique business hotels springing up to serve major cities. Places like the Home Inn, the Orange Hotel, and Motel 168 & 268 are a few examples. These hotels are modern, convenient, and built on the principles of Feng Shui. In Suzhou, we stayed at a Motel 168. The bed was one of the hardest we slept on, the room was small, and the street below was noisy. And yet we consistently slept like marathoners, usually straight through 9 hour stretches at a time.
These new joints rely on the principles of Feng Shui rather than high thread counts or Cable (ha), to create comfort. I don't yet know enough about the practice, but you can bet your bottom dollar I'll be learning before I decorate another bedroom. Obviously, Benjamin Moore #1018 (Shabby Chic) can't compensate for the bad juju I created hanging wall mirrors willy nilly. Duly noted, China.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Suzhou is for lovers
Suzhou blends new and old, with an industrial park and Disney-scale amusement to the West, and ancient bridges and traditional housing in the center. We've spent lots of time here and in the nearby water towns criss-crossing stone bridges, relaxing in gardens cultivated to within an inch of their lives, and strolling by the canals. This town has been a shining example of old China, and we've had an awesome time.
Because entering and leaving the country ranges from inconvenient to impossible for the Chinese, there is a huge amount of intra-country tourism here. When we get out of the main cities, we don't see many other Westerners, but the sights are often thronged with Chinese disembarking from tour buses and following a guide with a portable PA and brightly colored umbrella. Zhuzhuang, a nearby water town, was the worst example since the Forbidden City. It is walled off and therefore the masses are contained; the beautiful winding corridors along the canals home mainly to silk and chotchkes and a captive audience. Between the tour guides yelling into their mikes (you're already amplified, folks, no need to scream), the masses queuing to cross a bridge or enter a temple, and every vendor shouting "lookalooka" as you pass, the serenity of the place is lost.
What was so lovely about Suzhou was being able to experience life in a water town, without someone narrating it in Chinese on a loudspeaker. There has also been a lot of women's weightlifting on CCTV late night, so bonus points. Man, those girls are Beasts!
We leave for Hong Kong this afternoon on a 24 hour train ride. We're going to lay in some supplies in Shanghai first and are currently charging every electronic device we have. I foresee quite a few reruns of 30 Rock in my future...
Monday, September 20, 2010
Shopping in China
The style of salespeople in China is a little different to what we're accustomed to. Basically, from the second we enter a store, an employee follows us like we're there to rob them blind. If I pick up an item for further inspection, the helpful retailer will often start talking to me in Chinese and pick up another nearby item to show me. I haven't yet determined if this second item is for comparative purposes, is higher priced, or is simply a staff pick. Whatever the reason, we are too close to one another and I wish I could shop in peace. The experience is confusing and we were finding ourselves getting a bit frustrated and claustrophobic. Until I invented a game.
Basically, when we go into a shop (pharmacy, shoe, bookstore) the clerk usually goes right to Ed. Given we're in China and he's the dude, he is obviously going to be the one making the purchasing decisions. The whole surveillance and tracking system operates under the assumption that we won't split up. So, as soon as a salesperson has glommed on to us, I veer off in my own direction (phase 1). Now, the clerk has a critical decision to make, and the wheels are turning. He is watching Ed, but has to keep looking away to get a fix on my location. Am I behind the rack of sneakers? In the produce aisle? Does he stay with Ed or divert to tail me? Who seems shiftier?
8 out of 10 times, he calls for backup. But by the time help arrives, I'm already in deep-browse mode. The salesperson stands so close while I'm shopping that any unexpected move can and does cause collision, and this is where I really shine. At this point, Ed is usually buying the thing we actually need: tissues, bottled water, a street map. Which gives me time for phase 2, which is when I feign interest only in items on the shelves that are being blocked by the person following me. Oh, excuse me, nope to your right, no now move left, no, right behind your head. Oh, yes, so sorry, no I wanted that one by your foot. Oh, how clumsy of me, yes, if you could just. A little to your left, no my left. My fault. Yes this one. No, not this one, that other one. Sorry, if I could just reach around you...
Is this game mean spirited and culturally insensitive? Mmmm, probably. Does it provide us a bit of amusement in situations that can seem tense? Sure. Also? Phase 2 frustrates and confuses the tailgate, who typically retreats and finally gives me room to breathe. Works. Every. Time.
Basically, when we go into a shop (pharmacy, shoe, bookstore) the clerk usually goes right to Ed. Given we're in China and he's the dude, he is obviously going to be the one making the purchasing decisions. The whole surveillance and tracking system operates under the assumption that we won't split up. So, as soon as a salesperson has glommed on to us, I veer off in my own direction (phase 1). Now, the clerk has a critical decision to make, and the wheels are turning. He is watching Ed, but has to keep looking away to get a fix on my location. Am I behind the rack of sneakers? In the produce aisle? Does he stay with Ed or divert to tail me? Who seems shiftier?
8 out of 10 times, he calls for backup. But by the time help arrives, I'm already in deep-browse mode. The salesperson stands so close while I'm shopping that any unexpected move can and does cause collision, and this is where I really shine. At this point, Ed is usually buying the thing we actually need: tissues, bottled water, a street map. Which gives me time for phase 2, which is when I feign interest only in items on the shelves that are being blocked by the person following me. Oh, excuse me, nope to your right, no now move left, no, right behind your head. Oh, yes, so sorry, no I wanted that one by your foot. Oh, how clumsy of me, yes, if you could just. A little to your left, no my left. My fault. Yes this one. No, not this one, that other one. Sorry, if I could just reach around you...
Is this game mean spirited and culturally insensitive? Mmmm, probably. Does it provide us a bit of amusement in situations that can seem tense? Sure. Also? Phase 2 frustrates and confuses the tailgate, who typically retreats and finally gives me room to breathe. Works. Every. Time.
Old stuff
We really enjoyed our time in Shanghai, but I remarked to both our friends and to Ed that it was surprising to me that no trace of old Shanghai glamor was to be found. The deco architecture is preserved and the European influence remains, but everywhere you look is modernity. Facsimiles of legendary 1930s Shanghai abound; clearly I'm not the only mo who wants to see this. Renovations across the Bund and beyond promise restoration to Shanghai's storied past. The reality, though, is that Shanghai is a thoroughly modern city and these renovations are just copies of copies of copies...
No where was this more in evidence than the evening that Allison, Ed and I visited a club/bar called Chinatown. A 3 story bar with a stage in a converted 1930s Buddhist temple brought to us by the dream team behind the Slipper Room and the Box in NYC, Chinatown promises an evening variety show, tawdry burlesque, old fashioned cocktails, etc. And as it turned out, the cocktails were fantastic, and the space was beautiful renovated. The evening, overall, was pretty fun but that was largely due to our amusing ourselves with running commentary. The experience is supposed to be 1934, but this is 2010 and even with vodka and imagination, that couldn't be ignored.
The performers weren't drunk or high on opium or for hire; they were expats, failed actresses most likely, who clearly take vitamins and get plenty of sleep and keep head shots behind the bar. We wondered aloud what one of the male performers, a Frank Sinatra type, had done or not done to land himself a regular gig here. We concluded work release program. The juggling clown, when offered a shot by a drunken bachelorette, declined saying "oh, I can't, I have to perform again later." The Chinatown girls had clearly been instructed to wander about the club between acts, wearing flapperish dresses and smoking out of long handled cigarette holders. The crowd was mainly expats in chinos, many on business trips; there wasn't even an illusion to be ruined.
The whole conceit, from the Cabaret-imitating emcee to the awkward burlesque felt contrived and controlled. But I should have known better. China is a nation obsessed with progress, happily leveling historic buildings and converting temples into night clubs.
Did I really expect the glamor and recklessness of the 1930s to remain in Shanghai, where the government doesn't allow access to Facebook?
No where was this more in evidence than the evening that Allison, Ed and I visited a club/bar called Chinatown. A 3 story bar with a stage in a converted 1930s Buddhist temple brought to us by the dream team behind the Slipper Room and the Box in NYC, Chinatown promises an evening variety show, tawdry burlesque, old fashioned cocktails, etc. And as it turned out, the cocktails were fantastic, and the space was beautiful renovated. The evening, overall, was pretty fun but that was largely due to our amusing ourselves with running commentary. The experience is supposed to be 1934, but this is 2010 and even with vodka and imagination, that couldn't be ignored.
The performers weren't drunk or high on opium or for hire; they were expats, failed actresses most likely, who clearly take vitamins and get plenty of sleep and keep head shots behind the bar. We wondered aloud what one of the male performers, a Frank Sinatra type, had done or not done to land himself a regular gig here. We concluded work release program. The juggling clown, when offered a shot by a drunken bachelorette, declined saying "oh, I can't, I have to perform again later." The Chinatown girls had clearly been instructed to wander about the club between acts, wearing flapperish dresses and smoking out of long handled cigarette holders. The crowd was mainly expats in chinos, many on business trips; there wasn't even an illusion to be ruined.
The whole conceit, from the Cabaret-imitating emcee to the awkward burlesque felt contrived and controlled. But I should have known better. China is a nation obsessed with progress, happily leveling historic buildings and converting temples into night clubs.
Did I really expect the glamor and recklessness of the 1930s to remain in Shanghai, where the government doesn't allow access to Facebook?
Thursday, September 16, 2010
America, brought to you by Corporate America
There were a couple of aspects of the World Expo that were super strange to us. The American pavilion and the Chinese pavilion are about as far away from one another as possible within the grounds. Also, the American pavilion is in the back corner of the area, making it a bit remote. We're pretty sure this wasn't accidental.
The magic begins when we step inside and the introduction room is plastered with logos of Corporate sponsors. An introductory film is played in which folks on the street in DC are filmed trying to say "Welcome to China" in Mandarin. It doesn't go that well.
As we pass into the next giant movie theater, Pfizer thanks us for not smoking. Then we watch a film where kids teach us how to save the earth (make a cloud plane that doesn't use gasoline!) and CMOs from the sponsoring firms (Chevron, GE, PepsiCo) emote; the children are our future, the environment is a critical issue. Then cameos by such American celebrities as Tony Hawk and Marlee Matlin (she's deaf! we're diverse!), interspersed with academic interviews from professors at the University of Washington (sponsor).
We're herded into a third theater where we watch a film about a kid who dreams of turning a cement lot in her ghetto neighborhood into an urban garden and paints a picture of her vision. She shops this around and makes some progress. Her luck turns. At one point it seems that a thunderstorm, flaky neighbors, and bullies will sabotage the whole project. But when our protagonist, in desperation and pouring rain, holds her painting overhead and looks skyward over dramatic guitar music, the garden is saved. She awakes to find it fully planted, vandals spray-painting a rainbow mural on the wall. I think we're to assume that a higher power is responsible...
Now, imagine you're Chinese. You don't speak English and your government isn't letting you pop over to the USA for a visit anytime soon. Your internet access is highly censored and western TV & movies aren't broadcast. What you see at the world expo might inform your opinion of the US disproportionately. And what you might take away from your visit is that Americans really like sitting in dark theaters, can't and won't try to speak Chinese, and don't flush a toilet that isn't paid for by a major corporation.
Also, the building looks like an airport terminal. Citibank thanks you for visiting. That is all.
The magic begins when we step inside and the introduction room is plastered with logos of Corporate sponsors. An introductory film is played in which folks on the street in DC are filmed trying to say "Welcome to China" in Mandarin. It doesn't go that well.
As we pass into the next giant movie theater, Pfizer thanks us for not smoking. Then we watch a film where kids teach us how to save the earth (make a cloud plane that doesn't use gasoline!) and CMOs from the sponsoring firms (Chevron, GE, PepsiCo) emote; the children are our future, the environment is a critical issue. Then cameos by such American celebrities as Tony Hawk and Marlee Matlin (she's deaf! we're diverse!), interspersed with academic interviews from professors at the University of Washington (sponsor).
We're herded into a third theater where we watch a film about a kid who dreams of turning a cement lot in her ghetto neighborhood into an urban garden and paints a picture of her vision. She shops this around and makes some progress. Her luck turns. At one point it seems that a thunderstorm, flaky neighbors, and bullies will sabotage the whole project. But when our protagonist, in desperation and pouring rain, holds her painting overhead and looks skyward over dramatic guitar music, the garden is saved. She awakes to find it fully planted, vandals spray-painting a rainbow mural on the wall. I think we're to assume that a higher power is responsible...
Now, imagine you're Chinese. You don't speak English and your government isn't letting you pop over to the USA for a visit anytime soon. Your internet access is highly censored and western TV & movies aren't broadcast. What you see at the world expo might inform your opinion of the US disproportionately. And what you might take away from your visit is that Americans really like sitting in dark theaters, can't and won't try to speak Chinese, and don't flush a toilet that isn't paid for by a major corporation.
Also, the building looks like an airport terminal. Citibank thanks you for visiting. That is all.
If you like lines...
A line for the bus, then for ticket pickup, security, food, country pavilions (these stretched up to 6 hours), and, of course, bathrooms. I'm not an amusement park goer but I think our experience at the Expo must have been similar, line-wise. But, when you get to the front of an Expo line you don't get to go on a roller coaster or meet Mickey. Instead, you're herded into a giant building to watch a movie presentation that is most akin to a Fortune 500 company's brand video. I felt like I was at new hire orientation for Australia. I'm not sure what my job is supposed to be, but I think it has to do with surfing, earth movers and kangaroos.
During our overpriced and barely edible lunch in the "gourmet pavilion," Ed and I tried to remember how we had decided to come to the Expo in the first place. We blame advertising, incidentally. But, for all the heat and the lines and the unbelievable crap inside the pavilions, it was maybe worth going. Here are my hot tips if anyone out there decides to:
- Go late in the day. Around 5 pm there is a parade (more on this later) and a seeming lull in the frenzy. Its before the night ticket holders arrive, and the folks who got in line for tickets to the China pavilion at 3 am (seriously) have called it quits.
- Don't wait in line for any pavilion. The architecture is the most impressive aspect, indoor is lamezone. That said, going into the pavilions of the countries that are broke (Iraq, Nigeria, Laos) can be interesting in a sad way. Nigeria had straw sandals on display. Laos gave away dixie cups of coffee. Single tear.
- The terrace at the Spain pavilion sells $2 beers and has no line. We joked that if we were in New York, the 5 hour wait would be to get into the bar instead of Spain's exhibition. Fortunately for us, it was the reverse.
- Maybe skip Asia. The lines for South Korea and Japan are the longest and the whole area is hard to get around and really spread out. Since China's pavilion is nine times the size of any of the others and smack in the center, it serves as a major obstacle to get around if you want to see anything else in the Asia zone.
- Europe is pretty, especially at night. We thought the Netherlands had the best pavilion of all. Somebody's highdea, perhaps.
- About 95% of the visitors to the Expo are Chinese. They do not give a shit about Africa or most of South America. So if you do and want to get inside a building, go to those regions.
- People say you can skip the line of your home country if you have your passport. We were told at the USA pavilion that this isn't their "policy" but then were let under the rope anyway, so its worth a shot.
Seemingly the hocking of merch was China's primary motivation for hosting the Expo. So, if you really want T-shirts with the little blue guy that I'm CERTAIN is a trademark infringement (um, hi, gumby?) you'll score easy. Lines and T-shirts, T-shirst and lines.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Shanghai: I see White people
We've been in Shanghai for a bunch of days seeing the sites and hanging with our visitors! My good buddy Allison and her friend Kristy met us here and its been a blast. The four of us did the heavy tourism lifting fast and early. After checking off the Lonely Planet Top 10, we were able to get down to the good stuff: beer & acrobats, soup dumplings & massage.
Here's the rundown:
Yuyuan Gardens & Old Town - Yes, the architecture is fantastic. Yes, the temples are huge and insane and amazing and more beautiful even than the Forbidden City. But. Its way overly touristy in a horrible Chinatown way, hawkers are pretty sure that you will buy a bagwatchrolexgucciprada if they follow you down the street repeating themselves (the word "no" is merely an invitation). At street level of the restored buildings you can find DQ, KFC, and Starbucks. I mean, I'm not saying we didn't get blizzards and iced coffee. I'm just saying.
The Bund - As recently as this morning we were trying to decide what, exactly, the Bund encompasses. Its an area along the Huangpu river with imposing, gorgeous deco architecture and windy streets. Its lovely and impressive and like olden times except for all the people with SLR cameras. There are huge shopping streets and a million restaurants drawing tourists and locals alike. Funnily, we felt like we could easily have been strolling the Thames or the Seine, save for the fact that one looks across the river at this:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Shanghaiviewpic1.jpg
French Concession & Xintiandi - I know it couldn't be more cliched than if I told you about Paris in the springtime, but we loved wandering the tree-lined streets of the French Concession. There is just a whiff of old time Shanghai expat glamor once you're off the main drag, particularly in the far west of the neighborhood. The streets get dark and leafy and sparkly restaurants are tucked into courtyards. Its French, but exoticer, and the better for it.
Oh, also, we got a little drunk and saw an acrobat show. This was enthralling and worthwhile. Had the show taken place in the US, a not insignificant number of child labor laws would have been broken. But since we're in China, the land of tiny circus freaks, good times for us.
Kristy headed back a couple of days ago, so its just been the 3 of us roaming. Having Allison around has reminded me how much I miss her, and all of my Bro Nameths back home. Sharing our trip with Allison has made this portion extra special and given us someone to talk to (besides each other) about everything we've done and seen so far. Also, she's been a real trooper on our robust eating schedule, happily attending second lunch and sucking the soup out of dumplings like a champ.
The only bummer about Shanghai is the sheer number of foreigners. The architecturally and historically interesting neighborhoods are also chock full of tourists and expats. I guess we're only adding to those numbers, and probably all those people are just as unhappy to see our Western mugs as we are theirs. But when we've gotten off the beaten path, gone to random stops on the metro, explored non-guide book neighborhoods, we mostly run into residential areas.
I shouldn't be such a snob, but we want the authentic Shanghai experience. Could the Western folks just step off stage for a few more days and cue the local extras? That'd be terrific.
Here's the rundown:
Yuyuan Gardens & Old Town - Yes, the architecture is fantastic. Yes, the temples are huge and insane and amazing and more beautiful even than the Forbidden City. But. Its way overly touristy in a horrible Chinatown way, hawkers are pretty sure that you will buy a bagwatchrolexgucciprada if they follow you down the street repeating themselves (the word "no" is merely an invitation). At street level of the restored buildings you can find DQ, KFC, and Starbucks. I mean, I'm not saying we didn't get blizzards and iced coffee. I'm just saying.
The Bund - As recently as this morning we were trying to decide what, exactly, the Bund encompasses. Its an area along the Huangpu river with imposing, gorgeous deco architecture and windy streets. Its lovely and impressive and like olden times except for all the people with SLR cameras. There are huge shopping streets and a million restaurants drawing tourists and locals alike. Funnily, we felt like we could easily have been strolling the Thames or the Seine, save for the fact that one looks across the river at this:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Shanghaiviewpic1.jpg
French Concession & Xintiandi - I know it couldn't be more cliched than if I told you about Paris in the springtime, but we loved wandering the tree-lined streets of the French Concession. There is just a whiff of old time Shanghai expat glamor once you're off the main drag, particularly in the far west of the neighborhood. The streets get dark and leafy and sparkly restaurants are tucked into courtyards. Its French, but exoticer, and the better for it.
Oh, also, we got a little drunk and saw an acrobat show. This was enthralling and worthwhile. Had the show taken place in the US, a not insignificant number of child labor laws would have been broken. But since we're in China, the land of tiny circus freaks, good times for us.
Kristy headed back a couple of days ago, so its just been the 3 of us roaming. Having Allison around has reminded me how much I miss her, and all of my Bro Nameths back home. Sharing our trip with Allison has made this portion extra special and given us someone to talk to (besides each other) about everything we've done and seen so far. Also, she's been a real trooper on our robust eating schedule, happily attending second lunch and sucking the soup out of dumplings like a champ.
The only bummer about Shanghai is the sheer number of foreigners. The architecturally and historically interesting neighborhoods are also chock full of tourists and expats. I guess we're only adding to those numbers, and probably all those people are just as unhappy to see our Western mugs as we are theirs. But when we've gotten off the beaten path, gone to random stops on the metro, explored non-guide book neighborhoods, we mostly run into residential areas.
I shouldn't be such a snob, but we want the authentic Shanghai experience. Could the Western folks just step off stage for a few more days and cue the local extras? That'd be terrific.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Korea wrap up
I feel I would be remiss if I didn't at least fill you in a little on our last couple of weeks in Korea. In all, we ended up staying in Korea for one month & 2 days, and I really really really think everyone should go there. I saw a T-shirt in a souvenir store that read "Korea: Asia's Best Kept Secret," and I can't say how true that is. I've never known someone to go just to go, but everyone should go, because its gd awesome and, like, the most civilized country on earth.
Our Korea loop, in the end, went like this Seoul -> Sokcho -> Samcheok -> Andong -> Gyeongju -> Busan -> Seoul. Gyeongju was, by far, the historical highlight of the trip. Its often referred to as an "open air museum," which I insisted on saying to Ed in my best wine aficionado voice. Like, it "open air museum, its really earthy but with a nutty finish." I think its funnier when you hear it spoken.
Anywho, Gyeongju was the capital of the Shilla dynasty which means there are shitload of rulers buried there. Fun fact: when kings were entombed back in the day, a pre-selected group of virgins would be lead into the tomb at burial time. Lucky for them, they were given knives so that once the final brick was in place and they were, in essence, buried alive they could off themselves. Same rules for the servants and the royal guard. It must have been crowded in there, but we wouldn't want the king getting lonely in the afterlife. So, these tombs are huge, perfect, mounds sprinkled throughout the city. Some are in parks, some in the mountains, some right in the downtown next to a row of ice cream shops. I called them grass boobs and was originally underwhelmed. But then wizened owl Ed made this sterling observation: what is amazing about these grass boobs is that in the time they were built, people weren't creating monuments of stone or brick. They used what they had available, which was dirt. And using their hands and dirt and engineering, they made something perfectly round and really tall in tribute. Which is kind of rad.
Bulguksa Temple is another fascinating and beautiful site to visit in Gyeongju. We've been to a lot of temples. In China we were palace'd out but in Korea, we were temple'd out. That said, this one was probably the most impressive that we visited. Like all beautiful things in Asia, it was burned to the ground by another Asian nation (this time Japan) and they've been working on the restoration ever since. Its also a Unesco World Heritage site which, if you come to Asia, is a huge freaking deal. Everybody is all Unesco this, World Heritage that. Its like they EGOT'd.
The highlight of Gyeongju for me, though, was a hike up Mt. Namsan. Along the trails there are huge stone Buddha carvings, tiny ancient temples, pagodas, religious relics and more grass boobs all the way to the summit. This allowed us to learn and sweat and be spiritual all at once. Just an awesome, perfect day. Incidentally, followed by one of my favorite Korean meals of the trip.
We're now in Shanghai which is totally awesome because my friend Allison is here! But, we haven't yet quite re-acclimated to the honking and spitting and yelling and general chaos. Korea was like the nerdy, tidy Uncle you like to visit at his house in the Catskills. He makes organic Chicken for dinner and reads Proust by the fire and you admire him, but don't really see the resemblance. China is like your sloppy kid brother. You love him, but you know that a weekend with him is going to be noisy and, inevitably, involve vomit.
Our Korea loop, in the end, went like this Seoul -> Sokcho -> Samcheok -> Andong -> Gyeongju -> Busan -> Seoul. Gyeongju was, by far, the historical highlight of the trip. Its often referred to as an "open air museum," which I insisted on saying to Ed in my best wine aficionado voice. Like, it "open air museum, its really earthy but with a nutty finish." I think its funnier when you hear it spoken.
Anywho, Gyeongju was the capital of the Shilla dynasty which means there are shitload of rulers buried there. Fun fact: when kings were entombed back in the day, a pre-selected group of virgins would be lead into the tomb at burial time. Lucky for them, they were given knives so that once the final brick was in place and they were, in essence, buried alive they could off themselves. Same rules for the servants and the royal guard. It must have been crowded in there, but we wouldn't want the king getting lonely in the afterlife. So, these tombs are huge, perfect, mounds sprinkled throughout the city. Some are in parks, some in the mountains, some right in the downtown next to a row of ice cream shops. I called them grass boobs and was originally underwhelmed. But then wizened owl Ed made this sterling observation: what is amazing about these grass boobs is that in the time they were built, people weren't creating monuments of stone or brick. They used what they had available, which was dirt. And using their hands and dirt and engineering, they made something perfectly round and really tall in tribute. Which is kind of rad.
Bulguksa Temple is another fascinating and beautiful site to visit in Gyeongju. We've been to a lot of temples. In China we were palace'd out but in Korea, we were temple'd out. That said, this one was probably the most impressive that we visited. Like all beautiful things in Asia, it was burned to the ground by another Asian nation (this time Japan) and they've been working on the restoration ever since. Its also a Unesco World Heritage site which, if you come to Asia, is a huge freaking deal. Everybody is all Unesco this, World Heritage that. Its like they EGOT'd.
The highlight of Gyeongju for me, though, was a hike up Mt. Namsan. Along the trails there are huge stone Buddha carvings, tiny ancient temples, pagodas, religious relics and more grass boobs all the way to the summit. This allowed us to learn and sweat and be spiritual all at once. Just an awesome, perfect day. Incidentally, followed by one of my favorite Korean meals of the trip.
We're now in Shanghai which is totally awesome because my friend Allison is here! But, we haven't yet quite re-acclimated to the honking and spitting and yelling and general chaos. Korea was like the nerdy, tidy Uncle you like to visit at his house in the Catskills. He makes organic Chicken for dinner and reads Proust by the fire and you admire him, but don't really see the resemblance. China is like your sloppy kid brother. You love him, but you know that a weekend with him is going to be noisy and, inevitably, involve vomit.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Ding ding ding, here comes the graphing mobile!
Once in a while, I feel I need to represent my thoughts pictorially and flex my dusty work muscles. Thus, a Venn Diagram to illustrate observations of accommodations in Korea.
The prevalence of love motels is what makes Korea an easy and affordable place to travel. They are well located, don't require reservations, clean, cheap, and available in every town. What's hard to wrap my head around is why it is seemingly so embarrassing to stay in one. Privacy curtains over the entrance to the parking garage ensure that, from the street, you can only see patrons from the waist down. Check in is through a tiny window (sometimes of black plexiglass) so the proprietor can't see you. To check out, one leaves the key in a box mounted in the elevator, again minimizing human contact. I'm not complaining; the last 2 nights of our Korea loop, we stayed here for $40/night:
What I'm saying though, is this. The tourist hotel located next door to the love motel charges 3X as much for similar or lesser amenities. The love motels are, apparently, somewhat shameful places to bunk up. Why doesn't an enterprising Korean start the low-end hotel, charging love motel prices but allowing the local patrons to feel respectable-like all at once? It's pretty easy, guys, just build a love motel but block the porn channels, don't offer day rates, and viola – you're a hotelier! Y'all make Hyundai's for god's sake, you can figure this out.
The prevalence of love motels is what makes Korea an easy and affordable place to travel. They are well located, don't require reservations, clean, cheap, and available in every town. What's hard to wrap my head around is why it is seemingly so embarrassing to stay in one. Privacy curtains over the entrance to the parking garage ensure that, from the street, you can only see patrons from the waist down. Check in is through a tiny window (sometimes of black plexiglass) so the proprietor can't see you. To check out, one leaves the key in a box mounted in the elevator, again minimizing human contact. I'm not complaining; the last 2 nights of our Korea loop, we stayed here for $40/night: 
What I'm saying though, is this. The tourist hotel located next door to the love motel charges 3X as much for similar or lesser amenities. The love motels are, apparently, somewhat shameful places to bunk up. Why doesn't an enterprising Korean start the low-end hotel, charging love motel prices but allowing the local patrons to feel respectable-like all at once? It's pretty easy, guys, just build a love motel but block the porn channels, don't offer day rates, and viola – you're a hotelier! Y'all make Hyundai's for god's sake, you can figure this out.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Andong da dong dong dong
After the penis park, we went to Andong, which took a while to get to but was totally worthwhile. Andong is famous for historical stuff and also for Soju & cows. We got right into it our first night with an exceptional Andong beef dinner and several rounds of Soju. The next day was pretty quiet, except for a trip to Lotteria for burgers with Thousand Sauce and a screening of “Journey to the Center of the Earth” starring Brendan Frasier (as a scientist). Yes, we watched the entire movie. Yes, we were that hungover.
The coolest thing we saw in Andong was the Hahoe Folk Village, which I called “the HEY-O village” all day. HEY-O sort of talk-yelled, like how Pacino would do. The village is made of traditional hanok houses like in olden times. The locals are descendents of the Yu clan who built it in the 16th century and they still farm and make traditional crafts and do folk mask dance. But also have huge plasma-screen TVs and really nice cars. We actually went to a performance of the mask dancing which featured grating horn music and old men shuffle-stepping around a pavillion in scary-ish wooden masks. Incidentally, Koreans love a drag show. I know I'm really selling it here, but you have to understand our expectations were pretty high. Giant photos of these mask-performances are featured in every train and bus station on the Eastern seaboard; we thought the experience would be transporting, a jewel in Korea's cultural crown, but the whole thing was pretty lame-zone.
Historical deets, for the nerds:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hahoe_Folk_Village
Oh, also at the HEY-O village, we were interviewed for Korean radio. I must say, the questions were pretty leading, like “which of the houses did you enjoy the most?” and “what most impressed you about the village?” This lady claimed to be a journalist (confirmed by her business card), but seemed more like a spokesperson for the Korean Board of Tourism. We did our part, 'oooing and ahhing' the villlage and the day. Remarkable, educational, interesting, beautiful, blahzay blah blah. We're on KBS, but haven't had the patience or the steady internet connection to find the interviews. Whatevs, we're famous.
travelin' reading list, part II
Here's some thoughts on the last batch...
The Ask: A Novel by Sam Lipsyte
I thought this book was going to be funny, but to me it was a bummer. The narrator is a schlumpy pessimist and reminds me too much of a narcissistic ex-boyfriend. The book is well written and Sam Lipsyte has an admiral vocabulary but, overall, is too up his own ass. That said, I really got some mileage out of the dictionary function on my Kindle and will be wowing you with shiny four-syllablers as soon as I learn how to use them in context. Flash cards, please.
Don't Get Too Comfortable by David Rakoff
Rakoff is one of my favorite NPR heads; his contributions to “This American Life” make any episode in which he appears a favorite. His writing is stellar but loses something for me when its not read aloud in his dry, elegant, ready for a v.o., voice. Plus, a collection of short stories has to be kind of miraculous to win my affection. I'm lazy during the courting stage of a book and often find the set-up a total drag. Once I'm through that bit and committed, I'd prefer that the tale goes on and on so that I don't have to start over. With short form, I usually feel like it ends just as I'm immersing. That said, there is a quote in this book about Karl Lagerfeld that I reread 12 times; it was spot on and mean-spirited and David Rakoff-perfect.
The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski
This was a recommendation from my friend Aileen, who never steers me wrong, but often recommends mandatory crying books. (see: Eleni, The Glass Castle, Case Histories, I could go on...) Edgar Sawtelle also brought the requisite tears, but holy shit is this a terrific book. I tip my hat to anyone who can write an engaging and cohesive novel that includes a mute protagonist, a cast of dogs with developed and unique personalities and believable mysticism/ghost stuff. I enjoyed reading this book tremendously and when I finished said to Ed, “that, my friend, is how you write a book.” Read it, GO!
Spooner by Pete Dexter
I think I liked this book, but I'm still not sure. Its weird in a good, almost cartoonish way. I felt the same ambivalence when I finished "Confederacy of Dunces," so, you know... There are some very funny bits and some tragically sad moments. If someone else reads it, let me know what you think. I loved the ending and that might be coloring my overall impression. But, maybe its great? Undecided.
The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde
I don't love reading plays, but I do love Oscar Wilde. Always.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Here comes the story of the hurricane...
There is currently a typhoon headed toward SK. Not a mighty, scary, model-stuck-in-a-tree-in-Thailand-because-of-the-resulting-tsunami typhoon, but a typhoon all the same. My vision of us on the rocky west coast of Korea for our last few days before we return to Seoul has thusly been shattered. We weren't sure exactly where we were headed, but now it definitely isn't West.
We just got up and moving and I'm thinking we'll go to Busan, which is just an hour South of here and not in the direct path of the storm. The weather will probably be crap, but if we can find a motel with a view of the ocean, I might not even care. A balcony would pretty much ensure my happiness for the next 48 hours.
So, I'm going to go and figure out how to get us there. Also, pick up some Rumourpang which is an unnaturelly addictive Korean chain food. What they do, you see, is make these coffee-ish flavored buns that are about the size of your head and the consistency of a crossaint. I imagine there is at least one crack-like ingredient because I literally wake up thinking about these buns.
Gotta go. Buns!
We just got up and moving and I'm thinking we'll go to Busan, which is just an hour South of here and not in the direct path of the storm. The weather will probably be crap, but if we can find a motel with a view of the ocean, I might not even care. A balcony would pretty much ensure my happiness for the next 48 hours.
So, I'm going to go and figure out how to get us there. Also, pick up some Rumourpang which is an unnaturelly addictive Korean chain food. What they do, you see, is make these coffee-ish flavored buns that are about the size of your head and the consistency of a crossaint. I imagine there is at least one crack-like ingredient because I literally wake up thinking about these buns.
Gotta go. Buns!
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