Decadent Western Dog - The Blog

At last

2007-11-15T18:21:00.000+08:00

Despite many many many procrastinations, my tale has wound its way to Vietnam. This one isn't all talk. It has pictures. Also for some reason I have used a lot of capitalisation.

Having passed through the tedious border procedures, our first task on Indochinese soil was to negotiate passage Hanoi, the border crossing being a few clicks from the absolute middle of nowhere. This was facilitated by some well dressed, well spoken (presumably well paid) young men who bundled us into a very comfortable, modern car, and took us to a nearby town where we were told a luxurious, spacious and air-conditioned mini-bus was waiting to ferry us to civilisation in the utmost comfort.

As many of you will be aware, the term 'minibus' is actually a euphemism for 'van', but, compared to a hard seat Chinese train, it did seem pretty luxurious. At first.

After paying our $10 fare (about the cost of a pretty nice hotel room for the night) we spent a few minutes getting to know our driver while we waited for some other saps tourists to arrive. His main schtick was pointing to various couples, and saying "I love you?" to establish the relationship status of his passengers. As I was travelling alone, when it came my turn he would point to various old women, men and livestock, say "I love you?" then collapse in fits of laughter at his marvelous joke. In the 3 hours or so it took to get to Hanoi, he never once tired of this.

After offering Ed $10 for his sunglasses (and turning his nose up in disgust at mine) we hopped into the van (er, minibus) and began our journey.

Perhaps a legacy of the leaner years of communism, there seems to be a policy in certain parts of Asia that no vehicle may travel at anything less than 120% capacity. To put a mere 12 people in a 12 seater van would be the height of wastefulness and decadent capitalist excess. As there were already 10 or so (fare paying) foreigners seated (for the time being) comfortably inside, it was up to our intrepid driver to find at least another half dozen locals to make up the quota. This was done by a process akin to press ganging, where the driver would stop near a local market/laundry/road side gathering spot, roll down his window and yell at random townsfolk. I imagine his speech translated as something like "This baby's going to Hanoi, and Whitey is payin. Get on board!"

The idea that a man squatting beside the road smoking and minding his own business, or a woman buying bananas at the local market might not WANT to go to Hanoi was no match for his mix of sales pitch and coercion. Perhaps wowed by the fact that they didn't actually have any good reason NOT to go to Hanoi, the van quickly filled to capacity, and beyond.

Eventually we must have tipped some ratio of airspace to meatspace in the van, and off we went. I was tired, hungry, parched, but still able to appreciate the fact that we were driving through some pretty spectacular countryside, impossibly green and ringed by those round pointy mountains that seem to thrust out of nowhere. Taking in the view was certainly preferable to meditating on the fact that I had about 15cm of seat space for both of my buttocks. Retrieving my camera from my pocket was a laughable proposition. My whinging aside, we made it to Hanoi, and the old quarter where the bulk of the cheaper accommodation is located.

The old quarter is a rabbit's warren of stores, hostels, bars and restaurants. The streets are rarely more than 4m wide, completely clogged with a never ending flow of motorcycle traffic, and seem to wind around on each other in ways that violate several fundamental precepts of geometry (particularly after a few beers). Many streets bear the names of the goods that were (traditionally) made and sold there, and some areas still conform to this pattern. Were you to ask, for example, where to buy a handbag, you would be directed to 'handbag street' where several dozen shopkeepers would step forth from several dozen identical stores imploring you to examine their selection of several dozen handbags which are completely indistinguishable from every other store within a 100m radius.

Aside from diverse selection of geographically concentrated stores, a foreigner is likely to be dogged at every step by street vendors offering various wares, including (in rough order they are offered)

- Guidebook?
- Motorbike?
- Marijuana?
- Opium?
- Girl
- ??? (at this point, realising you aren't interested in the 'ordinary' wares, the seller will spiral off into strange and disturbing realms of commercial possibilities, the gist being that WHATEVER you want, a guy can have it here on a motorbike within the hour.

Anyway, being day one, my only real desires were food, beer, and bed (order negotiable). Having taken care of item 3, I met up with Ed and Fiona again and sought out items 1 and 2. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and desperation, we waltzed up to the first street-side eatery we could find and sat down on some dangerously low and fragile looking plastic stools. Once 'bia' was ordered (we hadn't yet learned to ask for 'cold beer') we took to perusing the menu which was, unsurprisingly, in Vietnamese. Defaulting to my well tried 'would've starved to death in China without it' plan B, we took a look around the neighbouring tables and decided we'd have "that" (some sort of tofu dish with dipping sauce) and one of "those" (a plate of pea in the pod things). Beer arrived and food soon after, followed by another round of "that" and a few more beers.

I was filthy, dripping sweat, hadn't slept properly for two days, and was generally dumbstruck by the claustrophobic chaos of Hanoi. But sitting on a dodgy plastic stool on a dirty street drinking beer from a grubby glass, I was about as happy as I could be. The air thrummed with the sounds of motorcycles bearing unfeasible loads of passengers, goods, or both; Hanoi residents sat around us and joked and drank and shot us shifty glances; the sun shone down; and most importantly:

I had made it out of China, and into Vietnam; traversing more than 3000km in about a week, a stranger in a strange land. A casual observer (like the guy with the long white beard and one eye at the adjacent table) might have detected a hint of pride in my beer swilling and tofu chewing.

Oh, and pictures.

Hanoi, city of 3 million or so humans, and 3 million or so motorbikes:

Typical 'multi-use' building:

Hanoi Cross Section (courtesy of railroad track)

Night Life

and Mosquito control, provided by your hotel, free of charge

Vietnam Ho!

2007-11-09T15:59:00.000+08:00

When we last saw our insipid hero, he was soaking wet and passed out from lack of sleep, too much running through monsoon rain, and the usual stresses of rail travel in China. I'm giving you a recap because its so long between posts at the moment that you've probably forgotten. If you're reading this at all.

Anywho.

I awoke about 4 hours later, still on the train, still soaking wet, and being snap frozen by the airconditioner. I needed to change out of my sweaty monsoon drenched clothes, and into some of the slightly less sweaty monsoon drenched clothes in my pack. Doing this in a small, dirty bathroom on a rickety-clackity train was no mean feat (a tip: don't touch ANYTHING) but I managed to get minutely drier and warmer and crawl back into my bunk.

The next morning found me in Nanning, capital of the Guangxi autonomous region and apparently famous for its lush green foliage. None of which was evident from the train station or the surrounding courtyard. I managed to get a ticket on to Pingxiang (the last Chinese stop on my dash to Vietnam) and then had to find a way to kill three hours or so. I ate something or other then found a internet cafe that was, at about 5.30am, already uncomfortably hot and overcrowded. I bashed out this guy then beat a hasty retreat back to the train courtyard to snooze on my pack for a while.

Relieved at the ease with which I managed to get a ticket to Pingxiang, I didn't think to check on the class or length of the journey, which of course turned out to be around the 3 hour mark, hard seat. I've most likely whinged about hard seat travel in China before, but for those of you that haven't heard it, it's a seat, that is hard. The angle of seat back to seat is also a perfect 90 degrees which does not gel particularly well with any human anatomy I've ever seen. Add to this the fact that its sweltering hot, and there's four of you to a bench, and you can see why its not my favourite way to travel.

Between dozing and inwardly grumbling about how tough it is to be me, I noticed that I was, for once, not the only foreigner in the car. Adjacent me were an English couple, Ed and Fiona, who were (and still are) on a mad quest to circumnavigate the globe without the use of airplanes, extolling the virtues of slow travel, enjoying the journey, and not pumping tons of carbon into the atmosphere via aviation fuel. (Read all about it). Joining forces to face the uncertain train/taxi/walk/wait/taxi ordeal of the China Vietnam border crossing, I was immediately glad of their company when it came time to negotiate a fare to the border pass, in the back of a moto-tuktuk type thing. For some reason the sting of being fleeced is less when others are in the same boat (or moto-tuktuk thing).

We were soon speeding down the highway towards the border, stopping only to make a roadside currency change from a lurking money changer who sprung out from the undergrowth (in what I'm sure is a well rehearsed maneuver) and waved our driver down.

By and by, we made it to the border itself. Some of you may be aware that China and Vietnam, despite their shared commitment to the dictatorship of the proleteriat (hur hur), haven't always been the best of pals. The ominously named 'Frienship Pass' where we made our crossing was I suppose an attempt at showcasing the improved relationship between the two People's Republics, and nothing says 'warm and friendly neighbour' like a huge expanse of white concrete, surmounted by a fortess of white stone emblazoned with the crest of the PRC.

Squinting against the reflected midday sun, we made it through customs and out of China, and struck out across no-man's-land toward a small shack which was the Vietnamese response to China's amiable border outpost.

The immigration procedure consisted of lining up with a bunch of other sweaty impatient foreigners, migrant workers and other miscellanians; pushing through the dark sweaty interior of the building to retrieve forms the counter furthest from the door; pushing back to take said form to the counter nearest the door; placing your passport on a towering pile; then standing outside and waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

It did occur to me that you could simply walk around the building, and viola, you're in Vietnam, but I figured illegal immigration was no way to start a holiday. They did have a large colourful poster of different kinds of ecstacy that amused me for five minutes or so.

Eventually (after Ed's passport had been thoroughly looked over by suspicious customs agents, no doubt habitually wary of Englishmen attempting to illegally immigrate to Vietnam) we got our passports back and headed through into Vietnam. Ed and Fiona were bailed up for 'entry tax' which I avoided by simply walking past the desk (making my immigration just a little bit illegal).

And there I was. In Vietnam. At last.

What adventures would befall me? If you've read this far you may as well stay tuned and find out.

One Night In Canton

2007-10-25T16:50:00.000+08:00

So there I was, accomodated, showered, refreshed, and stuck in a strange town until 4pm the next day.

So, sticking to the tried and true Ben Shaw Method Of Finding Fun in a Strange City I went in search of Canadians. And found them, at the appropriately named Strange Brew. After a satisfactory attempt at a burger, a few fancy German beers (a welcome departure from China's Lager standard, and the horrendously overpriced suds of Hong Kong) and some light chat with an attractive Chinese barmaid, one of the owners showed up, announcing that they were closing early and heading off to a friends newly opened Irish Bar (some things every city needs, no matter where on the earth). I'd ingratiated myself sufficiently by this point to be invited along.

The rest of the evening was of the standard 'ex-pats congregating in a foreign city' binge drinking kind, with various odd Irishmen, loud Americans, shifty elderly British fellows and jovial Canadians (+ one road weary Kiwi).

At some point in the evening though, we collected westerners were given a stark reminder of the superiority of the local stock, with the entrance of a tall, incredibly well muscled Chinese guy. You could hear the beer-bellies being sucked in. He turned out to be extremely fluent in English, and quite proficient in French also (not to mention Mandarin and Cantonese of course). Every man in the room instantly loathed him, particularly because he was one of the most likeable people you could ever meet. He eventually made his apologies and joined the band on stage, cradling a saxophone in his huge arms (which he, of course, played superbly).

Note also that lustrous mane of hair.

A few too many pints of Kilkenny later, I managed to crawl into a taxi, and thence to bed. I woke up the next day, head pounding, and wallet considerably lighter, having spent most of the money that I'd scrimped by living cheaply in Hong Kong.

Such is life.

With 6 hours or so till my train left, I figured I had ample time to sample the touristy treats that Guangzhou had to offer. The first challenge was to find the metro station, which wasn't helped by my hotelier pointing out a place about 3 blocks north of where I was and saying "this hotel is here". With that navigational head-start, I walked out onto the main road, under the shadows of the ever present fly-overs, and tried to work my way out of the leather district (a great place if you like handbags and jackets, not so good if you're a tourist on a budget wanting to be anywhere but the leather district).

My wanderings were considerably hampered by the arrival of the daily rains (the word 'torrential' doesn't really do them justice) and I of course had neither umbrella or coat. The rain came in bursts, meaning that one moment I was sweltering in malarial heat, and the next I was shivering and huddling beneath inadequate shelter in a drab grey housing complex.

Guangzhou holds the dubious distinction of being founded by five goats (magical goat deities I'm sure) and after correcting for my hosts helpful advice, I found my way to a statue commemorating this.

A metro station was nearby, so I set off for the south part of the city, and Shamian Island. The island was originally a sand-bar in the river (the direct translation is 'sandy surface') and was conceeded to the US and British who built a bunch of warehouses on it and generally enlarged it into a sizeable haven of colonial splendour and whatnot. Nowadays its mostly famous for being the place to go to see wealthy American couples pushing Chinese infants down the bund in strollers as they await the outcome of adoption proceedings. The colonialism continues unabated, albeit in a modern form:

I was forced to shelter under the eaves of that very Starbucks for about an hour during another downpour until I realised, to my horror, that it had gone 3pm, and my train left at 4.

From the other side of the city.
And that I needed to stop at my hotel first to pick up my pack.

With the prospect of yet another night in a hotel that I couldn't afford, and an unrefundable train ticket, I set off at pace to the subway station. I bolted out of the train at the nearest stop and made a run for my hotel. I'm sure the sight of an absolutely sweat drenched laowai, sprinting madly down a crowded street in 38 degree heat, stopping only to suck from a water bottle and gasp for breath occasionally will live on in local legend for years to come.

I made it back to the hotel with about 15 minutes till departure, elbowing my way through a group of Indian businessmen attempting to negotiate their check-in in a language that neither they nor the hotelier were particularly proficient at (ie English). I managed to flag a taxi on the street, and bundled in, soaking wet and with blood pressure that was probably audible. He asked what time my train was leaving. I told him. He laughed. I asked if it was doable. He said something to me in Cantonese that I took to mean "There is absolutely no way in the 7 hells that you are going to make that train you big stupid foreigner".

At the front of the train station, 8 minutes till departure, I hit the usual queue for the metal detector (yeah I have no idea either) and was forced to fall back on 10 months of accumulated 'queuing' training to elbow my way to the front and through into the foyer. Swatting elderly women and children out of the way with my pack, I pushed through the crowd looking for a sign that might indicate where my train was leaving from. I eventually found the helpful student, who seemed sure that I'd already missed it. I asked him to humour me and show me the gate anyway, and with a bit more pack-bludgeoning, toe standing, and generally using my obnoxious western bulk to full advantage I found the platform, still blessedly inhabited by a train.

Exhausted, saturated with both sweat and rain, and at the fringes of sanity I made it to my berth, dumped my pack, and collapsed. The train pulled out moments later.

Take that skeptical Guangzhou taxi driver. Never underestimate the power of a highly stressed laowai with a heavy bag to swing.

From Hong Kong to Guangdong

2007-10-16T12:45:00.001+08:00

this one's wordy.

As I sat in Starbucks at Kowloon Railway station, slurping a Red Bean Frappacino, I realised I’d be somewhat relieved to be leaving the fastidious and overpriced mallishness of Hong Kong behind and to be returning to the 'proper' China of 20c beer, cheap street food, and slightly less expensive touristy geegaws.

This relief lasted right up until I got off the train at Gaungzhou central station, and was pressed forward into the thronging masses and stifling temperatures.

My plan:

- Find the legendary ‘foreigners ticket counter’
- Purchase a ticket on to Nanning
- Catch a taxi to the North Railway station
- Board Nanning train
- Sleep blissfully until my arrival in Guangxi Province, rocked by the gentle swaying of train on rail.

China being China, this was of course hopelessly naïve.

The lack of bilingual signage, and general chaos the place ensured that my plan stumbled before I even ticket off the first bullet point. My attempts to garner directions from the locals resulted in fingers pointing to each of the cardinal points of the compass, and no real information being conveyed.

This meant resorting to the all-purpose, Foreigner Travelling In China Emergency Assistance Plan, or, “standing around looking bewildered until a friendly student who wants to practice his/her English approaches you”. Right on cue my assistance arrived, and after a brief discussion with one of the guards, he informed me that the foreigners ticket counter did not in fact exist, and that I would need to go to the North Train Station to buy my ticket directly. Before thanking him and heading out into the streets, I managed to find out that he had absolutely no idea where Nanning was and had never even HEARD of Vietnam.

Upon exiting the station, I realised that what I thought had been a sweaty claustrophobic box was in fact an air-conditioned haven of tranquillity compared to conditions out of doors.

Guangzhou (Canton to you colonial types) is a city of between 8.5 and 12 million people (depending on who you ask) and is a sprawling multi-lane flyover ying to Hong Kong’s pedestrian paradise yang. Dodging cars to get to a taxi rank I was made well aware of the fact that the average temperature in July ranges from 25-32 degrees Celsius, with about 270mm of rainfall.

Hot.
Wet.

I made it to a cab, managed to communicate my destination to the driver, then received a full blast of culture shock when he asked me to put on my seatbelt. In 11 months of living in China, I had rarely encountered a taxi that was equipped with seatbelts, let alone been asked to wear one. Crazy southerners.

So we wound our way through the drizzle and traffic to the North Train Station. I may have mentioned earlier that Lonely Planet describes this establishment along the lines of ‘teeming masses’ ‘confusing’ and ‘avoid at all costs’. It was all of this and more.

Lines snaked outside from the hot dark bowels of the ticketing office, and it took all of my gathered queue ramming and pack swinging skills to secure a place in line. 40 minutes later, sweaty, chafing from my pack, and driven near mad by the constant stares, elbows, smells and sounds of the thousands gathered around me, I made it to the front, and asked for a ticket to Nanning in my fumbling Mandarin.

“Mei You”

The words that every traveller in China will know. And dread. Turns out there were no tickets available until the following day. I bought one, then staggered back out into the sunlight, into a city where I had not planned to stay and which was described as having ‘very few options for budget travellers’.

Broadcasting my ‘what the hell am I going to do now’ face for all to see, I was soon approached by a hotel tout waving pamphlets in my face and yelling out sums of money that were about 4 times what I’d planned on paying for accommodation. To add to the fun, she spoke Cantonese, and I had a 2 year-old’s grasp of Mandarin. This is equivalent to learning a smattering of French and then finding yourself stranded in Italy for the night (with all the attendant, “we hate the French” in there as well.). Having stated a price that I was willing to pay, and being more or less understood, she set off a trot to visit various small hotels around the station. All of which were of course full (or unwilling to house a sweaty laowai who was just smart enough not to be ripped off). Darting across highways and under over passes, I was hard pressed to keep up, my pack suddenly feeling about ten times heavier and my head ten times lighter due to the moisture that was pouring out of me. Having exhausted the nearest options, she set off at a near run to a hotel a little further out. I have a suspicion that she had decided I was too much trouble and was trying to lose me at this point, but I pursued her with dogged dedication (or delirious determination. One of the two.)

Eventually, saturated, sore and stressed near breaking point, we reached the Huada College Business Hotel (No. 5 Building Guihua Road Guangzhou, entering from the gate of the Experimental Middle School of Guangzhou Univeristy. Tell them Ben sent you). Normally for international business exchangees, the fact that it was definitely not suit and tie weather meant it was almost empty. Before I could have the tricky ‘so how much do I owe you’ conversation with the tout, she was off (but not before complimenting me on keeping up) and I was soon checked into a nice (and quite reasonably priced room) with a double bed, satellite TV and, most important of all, a shower.

I showered, collapsed for a few hours, and woke up feeling something like a human being again. That taken care of (as pictured), I was left to wonder what one does with a night in Guangzhou…

Post Script: Today is Blog Action Day for the environment. In that spirit I'd like to suggest that anyone who thinks 'oh a bit of warming won't be so bad', 'cities would be better off with more and wider roads' and 'all economic development is good development' should spend half an hour running around Gaungzhou wearing a 12kg pack in mid-summer, breathing deep lungfuls of the fruits of industry and commerce. Its a good teaser of what we're heading for.

Lantau Layover

2007-10-02T12:12:00.000+08:00

Okay, so the where and why of this particular day is pretty well covered here but basically I took a day journey out to Lantau Island (one of the 262 or so islands that make up the Special Administrative Zone of Hong Kong) and was given a rather prolonged lesson in "how Buddhist monks spend their pocket money" (or perhaps, to be fair, how the Hong Kong authorities exploit Buddhism for the tourist dollar).

And here it is (proving that with enough caveats anything can be the largest something): The World's Largest Outdoor Seated Bronze Buddha

and yes I paid hard currency for the privilige of slogging my way up all those stairs in the sweltering humidity, to take a walk around a glorified 'buy a buddha' gift shoppe.

The view from the top as proof:

Other attractions on the island (where I was captive for 4 hours or so, trying to retrieve my pack) were:

The World's Largest Wicker Chair Situated Beneath a Tattered Chinese Flag in Hong Kong

The World's Eeriest Derelict Building with Scarecrow on an Island In Hong Kong

The World's Most Poorly Conceived Tourist Attraction (not too many qualifiers on that one):

And the World's Most Sterile and Deserted Chinese Model Village (the folks in red are staff):

And finally the World's Most Thing that Ben Doesn't Know What The Purpose Of It Is On Lantau Island:

As noted earlier, there were also some pretty butterflies (which were extremely difficult to photograph)

And for those of you that read the original post, "Sun Killer" (which has yet to snuff out our gaseous benefactor) turned out to be foundation. But I used it anyway because the alternative was being barbecued.

Two posts in two days. Remarkable. We'll be in Vietnam shortly.

Hong Kong Phooey, Part Tooey, Redooey

2007-10-01T10:28:00.000+08:00

Procrastination.

Anywhooo, my continuing adventures on Hong Kong island.

Starting with the good points:

Hong Kong is cleeaaaan, there is no spitting, there is no smoking (in fact any behaviour deemed to be even mildly anti-social is punished with an instant 5000 $HK fine); they seem to have found a way to aircondition large outdoor areas and its probably the most pedestrian friendly place I've ever been. You can walk from one side of the island to another without having to cross a street by way of subways and overpasses (all airconditioned). The harbour is serviced by cheap (if slow) ferries, and apparently the bus and metro system is just peachy.

The bad point:

The entire place is basically one gigantic shopping mall. And whilst 'anything' can be purchased, sometimes its best to remain ignorant as to exactly what 'anything' means.

To wile away the days waiting for various visas to process (I was later sternly admonished by the owner of my hostel for not using her overnight service), my temporary travel buddy Will and I did Various Touristy Things™ including ascending the Viewing Tower On a Hill Thing™ (housing a branch of Madame Tussaude's, and designed so that as you ascend each floor, you have to walk through a slew of Touristy Crap Shops™).

The view from the top:

The view from the top again, slightly obscured by a sweaty guy:

The port, showing that unique Chinese flair for 'organisation'

Other Touristy Must-do's™ are the Hong Kong walk of fame, paying homage to various Taiwanese and Hong Kong movie stars that China likes to claim. I don't know exactly who this guy is, but I have a definite contender for the name of my firstborn:

In conclusion, Hong Kong loves pandas:

Does not love theoretical physicists with Lou Gehrig's disease:

And is nice to look at in a City Scapey Sort of Way™.

If anyone is actually still reading this, I'll have a post up about Buddhisty Tourist Traps™ tomorrow. Promise.

(And I'll let the Dumb TradeMark Gag™ die. )

On the road again (again)

2007-09-09T13:44:00.000+08:00

Okay, so these next few are going to be retreads, going back over my hastily bashed out entries on the way south from Liaoyang, fleshing things out with further blatherings, inanesights (like insights but not) and pictures.

Ready?

Okay.

So as mentioned, I went through the ritual harrowing of packing all my wordly goods back into the pack whence they came, with the help of half a dozen large rubbish bags, and a few chinese friends onto whom I could offload various appliances, musical instruments and bottles of undrinkable chinese liquor.

I flew down to Beijing, dumped my stuff in a corner at a friends house, and booked my passage on an overnight train to Hong Kong the next day. Just to recap, this was all necessary because my Visa expired the day my teaching contract ended, and the Liaoyang authorities refused to extend it, possibly due to being unable to comprehend why anybody would stay in Liaoyang any longer than strictly necessary.

Of course, having to stay overnight in Beijing meant that I was already a day over my visa (and liable for a 500 yuan fine) when I went through customs to board the train to Hong Kong (its a little weird being stamped out of a country when you've still got to do 24 hours of rail travel within its borders). The matronly customs lady studied my visa, then asked me if I spoke any Chinese. I gave her my best "wo hui shou yi dian dian", which prompted her to tell me (in English) that I was a day over my visa. However some combination of my winning smile and endearing mangling of her national tongue must have melted her cold bureaucratic heart because she stamped me and waved me through.

I was travelling hard sleeper on the train, an open arrangement of six bunks to a berth, which I shared with an American teacher and two Chinese ladies, Ms Yu (heading to Hong Kong for the first time to visit family) and Ms Teresa Lee, manager of the Lucky Cloud International Cultural Exchange Company. We struck up a conversation of sorts, with Teresa playing interpreter between the two Chinese-poor Laowai, and the elderly Ms Yu, who spoke no English.

We had a 24 hour journey ahead of us, so decided to pass the time by teaching our Chinese friends the game of Hearts (or Black Bitch if that's your fancy). Its kind of a difficult game to explain, particularly with a language barrier, but Ms Yu soon began to display a pretty crafty knack for the game, prompting me to mention to Teresa that she was definitely the one to watch. This was conveyed to Ms Yu who replied, with a glint in her eye: "You've been in China too long".

Anyway, after 24 hours of this (barring those hours that it was dark):

We arrived at Hong Kong, the transition from Mainland to Special Administrative Region made immediately apparent by the sudden appearance of graffiti on the railway sidings, and the slatherings of (correct) English on signage and advertising. Of course, if you really want an illustration of the "One Country Two Systems" policy, you need look no further than the first thing you see upon exiting the train station:

In China, claiming that Fulan Dafa is 'good' (in fact claiming that it is anything other than a dangerous subversive and evil cult) is liable to get you a couple years of 're-education' that you may return from a couple of organs shy of a full set.

Following the lead of Will, my American train-buddy, I dragged myself and pack through the unbelievably sweaty streets of Hong Kong, dodging touts and sellers of fine suits and fake rolexs, to arrive at the Cosmic Guesthouse, situated in the euphemistically titled Mirador Mansions.

Apparently a good place to stay if you think you're going to need to get any of your Ethnic Minorities serviced.

After ditching our burdens, we headed out into Hong Kong, in search of visas, train tickets, and beer. The last item on the list was stymied by the fact that everything in Hong Kong is absurdly expensive, especially on a Chinese teacher's salary. It is pretty by night though.

I promise...

2007-09-06T14:38:00.000+08:00

that I will return, and recap, the last month of my time as a decadent western dog.

Right now I'm having issues with the wireless internet that I'm stealing, in that it isn't very fast. I will however do my best to find a cafe or somesuch that I can sequester myself in this weekend to get some writing done.

How many coffees do you think I need to drink, minimum, to sit in someone's cafe and use their internet for 6 hours or so?

Melboring

2007-08-10T12:29:00.000+08:00

Well, I made it back to the correct hemisphere, and am now occupying a friends couch while I stew various experiences around in my head, in preparation for spewing them forth onto this blog and the eyeballs of my lucky (possibly non-existent) readership.

We'll be starting in Hong Kong and heading West, before hanging south for Vietnam and Cambodia. Stay tuned.

I'm not dead...

2007-07-27T23:10:00.000+08:00

I'm just resting.

In Phnom Penh, Cambodia to be exact. Not exactly the most restful place on earth, but it has a certain invigorating energy to it.

Just spent 4 days or so lazing on a beach in Sihanoukville, taking brief breaks to go snorkeling or order various intoxicants from the bar. It was hard work but somehow I made it through.

Off to Siem Reap tomorrow, then I have a mere 3 days till I have to be in Bangkok, then back to Beijing, where I will have plenty of time to bore you all to death with photographs and tall tales.

Da Nang It!

2007-07-13T13:24:00.000+08:00

Travels will be explained in further detail when time allows, but for now:

Well I made it out of craaaaaazy Hanoi, city of 3.5 million people, and 3 million motorcycles, but not before seeing various museums detailing how the Vietnamese have taken on the Koreans, Japanese, French, and of course Americans and kicked ass. Plane wreckage sculpture abounds and I saw John McCain's flight suit and tin of throat lozenges.

Then I stayed on a boat in Ha Long bay for three days, kayaking and swimming and climbing unreasonably large hills for no good reason. It was all pretty spectacular.

One pretty damn uncomfortable overnight train ride later (apparently in Vietnam, as opposed to China, when they say Hard Sleeper, they mean Hard Sleeper) I'm in Da Nang, home of China Beach (My Khe) upon which I hope to be relaxing in about an hours time.

Closer...

2007-07-07T06:28:00.000+08:00

A brief update to confirm my aliveness.

I don't have time to get into the last few days in depth, but they included several trains, an unscheduled stopover in Guangzhou, some Canadians, a bunch of Guiness, a mad dash to a train that a taxi driver swore I wouldn't catch (you don't need to speak Cantonese to understand 'haha you're screwed buddy') and, after a very poor sleep in a crowded carriage, my arrival here in Nanning, where its just after 5am and already about 30 degrees.

In just over an hour, I catch yet another train to a place called Pingxiang, which is near, but not actually on, the Vietnamese border. THere's another bus or taxi involved there, then a 600m walk apparently.

It turns out that travelling alone, overland through southern China in July is kind of a hassle.

Hong Kong Phooey, Part Twooey

2007-07-04T22:11:00.000+08:00

Well, day 3 in Hong Kong down, about 12 hours left to go, about which I am happy.

Things have not gotten any less crazy, humid or expensive here, I've been eating McDonald's as it seems to be the cheapest available meal option (the exact opposite of Liaoyang) so I'm energy-less and cranky.

Today I went out to Lantau island, which is supposed to be a lovely wilderness dotted with idyllic beaches. Unfortunately I got suckered into a bit of a tourist trap, catching a bus to see the World's largest bronze seated outdoor buddha. Quite the distinction. Nice to know those monks begging in the street are putting the money to good use.

I was originally planning to stay at a hostel on the island, but after realising that it was in the middle of nowhere (though with handy access to a certain buddhist folly), $60HK in busses and ferries from where I need to be tomorrow, and an overpriced mosquito haven to boot, I decided to get back to the mainland. Unfortunately, I'd already locked my pack in the hostel office, and the lady wasn't back until 4pm. That gave me three hours to sit and contemplate the world's largest bronze seated outdoor buddha.

Things in my pack that I was unable to access that I would have quite liked at this time:

Money
A raincoat
Insect repellant

Anyway, I survived, with a mild case of sunburn. There were some pretty butterflies around though.

On that note, I finally found a 'supermarket' here in Kowloon. I'm pretty sure its as, if not more, expensive than shopping at 711, but at least all the overpriced crap is in the same place. I managed to buy some sunscreen that met all of my requirements of being A) not $90HK B) not containing 'whitening' agents and C) higher than SPF 10.

It's of Japanese origin, I don't remember the name, but I do recall that its SPF 50+, and has the words 'Sun Killer' emblazoned on the tube. My current theory is that it somehow accelerates the fusion of Hydrogen into Helium in the sun's core, thus ensuring that the sun will use up its available supply of raw materials that much faster. In the short term, this will infact enlarge the sun, causing significant discomfort to all life in the solar system (though possibly promoting sales of SPF 50+ sunscreen). Eventually however, the sun will 'die' shrinking to a relatively cold, dwarf state, thus sparing the purchasers of this product from its harmful effects.

The package also says 'kiss me' and we all know I can use any help I can get in that department.

Iminent solar death aside, tomorrow, all going to plan, I will pick up my visa for Vietnam, and board a train to Guangzhou in Guangdong province. Once back in the Mainland, with its reasonably priced beer and lack of Indian suit peddlers, I will board a train to Nanning overnight, and then the next day a series of trains, buses and taxis across the Vietnamese border to Dang Dong. From there its a short hop to Hanoi.

Or so I have been led to believe.

Hong Kong Phooey

2007-07-02T18:26:00.000+08:00

Well I made it this far at least. And I got out of China without having to fine for my 12 hours overstay!

As expected, everything is horrendously expensive and its 30 odd degrees with about 300% humidity.

Every five metres a man of Pakistani origin tries to sell you a suit or 'copy rolex' and massages, of both the legitimate and 'massage' kind are available everywhere you look.

I'm sitting in the smallest internet cafe in the world, behind me some British girls are debating how to get to Vietnam. I'm keeping my ears out for pointers but they sound reasonably bewildered.

So I've got to cool my heels here for a few days, at the Cosmic Guesthouse, a cheap but reasonably clean little hostel in Kowloon, while I wait for first a Chinese Visa, and then a Vietnamese one.

Then things really get interesting.

On the road again

2007-06-30T18:28:00.000+08:00

Well, made it to Beijing, and managed to rustle up a ticket to Hong Kong tomorrow, by which time I'll be only 12 hours over my visa, and thus hopefully beneath the notice of immigration officials.

My baggage at check in at Shenyang was 15 kilos over weight, even after I threw out or gave away most of what I owned (thankfully excess baggage costs next to nothing flying domestically in China) and I thought for a heart stopping, three years off my life shaving moment that I'd forgotten my ticket.

I also committed a flagrant act of abuse against the carry on luggage system, with about 20kgs of whatnots strapped about my person.

Anyway, I've deposited most of my worldy goods at a friends place in Beijing and I'm stripped down to about 8 kgs of stuff that will be slung about my shoulders as I begin phase 2 of operation 'go somewhere that isn't liaoyang'.

Its starting to feel like an adventure now.

All alone in my big empty apartment

2007-06-29T22:16:00.000+08:00

Well, I'm packed. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be well over my 20kg limit (I have about 100 more DVDs than when I arrived), but I'm packed. My apartment is once again the sparse white box it was when I arrived.

There have been times over the last 10 months when I've thought about this place as a cell, albeit one that I often preferred to stay in rather than face the bewildering outside world. I'm indescribably glad to be moving on, but I'll miss my little sanctuary of internet, peanut butter and banana on toast, rock n' roll and air-conditioning.

So I guess this is the end of one chapter of the saga of this particular decadent western dog, the next time I write, assuming none of the innumerable possible disasters in my immediate future decide to strike, I'll most likely be in Hong Kong. Incidentally if you know anyone who has a couch there I could crash on, that'd be great.

At this stage I'll be back in Australia on August 7th. I hope to have a souvlaki in hand shortly after arrival.

zai jian?

FREEDOM

2007-06-28T11:15:00.000+08:00

So I just handed in the last of my grades and am now officially, indefinitely and blissfully, unemployed.

I will never again have to stand in front of a class and deliver my half-baked lesson plans to those indifferent, insolent, incurious ingrates.

I'm gonna miss them all.

The Great Escape

2007-06-26T18:26:00.000+08:00

I am now a mere 4 days from leaving this town for the ever, and about a week from getting out of China altogether (for a while anyway). Unfortunately, my residency permit expires in 4 days too, so I'm going to spend a few days experiencing the heady thrill of being an illegal overstayer (high-five Leon) and then pay about 1500 RMB (round $250) as a fine when I leave. At this stage this seems to be kind of unavoidable, as the dour police lady wasn't convinced I was worthy of a visa extension, and 1500 RMB is probably less than I'd pay to have one, ahem, arranged.

So the plan for now (well, more of a 'notion' than a plan really) is to do the following (dates in the dd/mm format, as is what we use in New Zealand and thereabouts):

30th June: Farewell Liaoyang, drive to Shenyang, catch flight to Beijing
1st July: Catch train to Hong Kong
2/7: Arrive in Hong Kong, find cheap accomodation, apply for Chinese Tourist Visa
3-4/7: Faff about in Hong Kong, (hopefully) receive Chinese Visa, apply for Vietnamese Visa.
5-7/7: Get Vietnamese Visa. Hop on train to Nanning, China.
8/7: Train from Nanning to Hanoi Vietnam

Rest of July: Travel around Vietnam, look at stuff, sweat a lot, lie on a beach or two. Cross in Cambodia, check out things thereabouts, cross into Thailand

1/8: Fly from Bangkok to Beijing
2-4/8: Spend whatever money I have left in Beijing (alternatively: Survive on 2 yuan bowls of noodles for three days)
5/8: Fly from Beijing to Melbourne, Australia
6/8 - ???: The madness begins afresh.

All of this is being done solo, relying on my minimal Chinese, mediocre wits, and my 'meh I guess he's okay if I'd had a few to drink' looks.

Potential Problems with this scheme:

The good folks of the Chinese Communist Party, in an act of extraordinary foresight, chose to arrange the re-unification of Hong Kong and mainland China exactly 10 years ago, this July 1st. Thus ensuring that finding a train or accommodation will be a complete pain in the ass.
My finances, whilst probably adequate, are finite, and Hong Kong is expensive.
I am for some reason, denied a Tourist visa to re-enter China. This is extremely unlikely, but its also China. Nothing is a given.
Its approaching the stinkiest hottest part of the year in IndoChina. I might actually sweat to death.
Malaria.
Monkey attack.
Landmines (in Cambodia)
One, or a combination of the above factors meaning I don't get to Bangkok in time to catch my flight to Beijing.

Should be fun.

Nazi Pirate Sports Shoes

2007-06-18T21:51:00.000+08:00

Because I guess even Nazi Pirates like to have comfortable feet:

Further Scenes from a TiTTi bar

2007-06-18T21:31:00.000+08:00

Well, Friday night was supposed to be THE big night for Liaoyang, the TiTTi bar was officially opening, and we were guests of honour. Alas, like much else in this town, twas a disappointment.

Here I am at the door, brimming with excitement:

and here I am inside, with Raphael, Andrew, and The Proprietor. Frank took the photo, and there was waiter guy sitting in back there. This was the sum total of patrons on the supposed grand opening of Liaoyang's hottest new night-spot.

In that photo, or shortly after, The Proprietor is trying to convince us to come back at 9.57 on Saturday morning, a time that various numeroligical consultants have assured her is the most propitious. "That's when TiTTi bar really opens". She assured us. Oddly enough however, the allure of TiTTi bar had begun to wear off by this point. (As an aside, those of you who have known me since I was 14 may recognise the shirt Andrew is wearing).

Promising (lying) to return the next morning at 9.57 sharp, we toddled around the corner to "That bar with the Chinese name were Lulu works" (For the record, the other bars in Liaoyang are referred to as: "Woodstock", "That other bar next to Woodstock", "That bar with the really bad music" and of course "TiTTi Bar".)

We were fortunate enough to arrive there when the owner was entertaining some Party Bigwigs, and, by managing to outdrink them all, I gained a shiny VIP card. I have no idea what it actually does, but its gold and made of metal and it says "VIP" so I feel special. I may have also agreed to marry someone's niece and sell New Zealand's state secrets to China, but they were paying and my nations reputation was at stake, so we kept drinking well past what might be deemed reasonable.

12 days left. oh yes.

Scenes from a TiTTi bar

2007-06-14T21:00:00.000+08:00

Warning: The following blog post deviates somewhat from the usual sombre, measured tone of this blog. The post below contains descriptions of gross acts of immaturity, and laughing at funny names for parts of the human anatomy, particularly as uttered by oblivious Chinese ladies.

Act I

Scene: North-East China, a small industrial town, a bar, the outside covered in neon advertising drinks they don't sell, the inside smelling of fresh paint and scrawled with zodiac signs, gingham table cloths, and those fan things with the orange ribbons which are supposed to somehow call to mind flames.

Dramatis Personae:

Ben (a New Zealander, quiet, but radiating and understated aura of uncontrollable awesome)
Ian (a fellow from the UK. A slight predilection for tea and scones)
Andrew (an American, but a good guy none the less)
The Proprietor (a cheerily rotund Chinese woman in her late 30s, blissfully unaware of any meanings that the word 'TiTTi' might have in English)

Scene 1:

Ben, Ian and Andrew, drawn like moths to a neon flame, approach the bar

Andrew, Ian, Ben: Hi! giggle

The Proprietor: TiTTi bar is not open yet! but come into TiTTi bar, foreigners love
TiTTi bar!

Andrew, Ian, Ben: Okay! snigger

The Proprietor: How do you like TiTTi bar? TiTTi bar is Liaoyang's newest and best bar!
TiTTi bar!

Andrew, Ian, Ben: Yeah, its uh, nice. barely restrained laughter

The Proprietor: Well I am very happy to welcome you to TiTTi bar! I hope you like TiTTi
bar!

Sometime later...

Ben: (noticing the conspicuous absence of the bar's namesake) So, uh, why did
you call this bar “TiTTi bar”

The Proprietor: Well, my cousin went to United States of America a few years ago, I told him
I wanted to open a bar, and asked him, “What is the best bar in the United
States”. He replied: “The TiTTi bar, American's LOVE the TiTTi bar”, so I
called my bar the TiTTi bar”

Ben, Ian, Andrew: Oh. I guess that makes sense guffawing, holding of sides, uncomfortable
squirming at the idea that if The Proprietor says 'TiTTi' one more time,
pants will be wet.

End Scene.

She also said at one point, slightly bewildered by our uncontrollable fits of laughter: "During the day I work as a teacher, but my dream has always been to open TiTTi bar"

Anyway, TiTTi bar opens for realz on Friday night. The Proprietor said we should bring some CDs, and she will have a karaoke machine set up.

Liaoyang will not know what hit it.

Liaoyang Pub Crawl

2007-06-12T22:27:00.000+08:00

Now anyone who has ever driven through, lived in, or even heard much about Liaoyang, will immediately think "that's impossible - unless you count going from Woodstock to that other one bar next door that isn't Woodstock" but, I have discovered (within 30 days of leaving this town for ever) that there may be as many as FIVE bars in Liaoyang. Sure, there all identical, kitschy as all hell, overpriced, and completely empty, but they exist, and I never knew.

The only reason I found out, was that I met a whole raft of new foreigners, who's presence I had been totally unaware of these long months. They work for Liaoning Petrochemical, a subsidy of China Petrochemical and are helping to build a new Polyester plant in Liaohua, an outer suburb of the town (I went there, remember?). They're all from the UK, and good blokes to a man. They all consider me something of a local legend for having survived almost 10 months in 'the yang' and I have been regaled with tales of how Liaoyang will one day be wiped from the map by a stray cloud of semi-intentionally leaked acetic acid (ohhh, that's what that valve does!). These guys have worked all over the world, 1st to 3rd, and have never seen safety standards as lax as Liaoning. With the flash frying of 3o or so people a little ways north a few months ago and a spattering of mining disasters from time to time, it certainly shows.

Also, one of the guys is a dead ringer for the 'this week I have mostly been eating' guy from the fast show. If anyone gets that reference please high five me in the comments.

anyway, we managed to perform a respectable tour of the Liaoyang's drinking establishments, leaving confused looks wherever we stopped for a warm bottle of Snow. However, it seems that what may potentially be Liaoyang's greatest drinking establishment of all, is yet to open:

Friday night. I will be there.

How much is that doggy on the menu?

2007-06-06T22:33:00.000+08:00

MYTH: Chinese people will eat any kind of animal, flying, crawling, slithering or swimming, including dogs.

FACT: People from Guangdong province will eat any kind of animal, flying, crawling, slithering or swimming. And its mostly Korean people that like to dine on rover.

With this in mind, Andrew and I headed down the street to a nearby Korean restuarant, figuring that everybody would be disappointed if we didn't have at least one dog eating story to tell when we returned to the 'civilised' world.

In keeping with my theory that anything fried and appropriately spiced probably won't taste that bad, we skipped past the varied delights of dog skin, dog soup, cold dog salad, dog penis, and dog face, and went for a straight up stirfried dog with chilies.

The verdict? Not bad. kind of like slightly stringy beef I guess. The trick is not to think about this:

I want to ride my...

2007-06-04T21:30:00.000+08:00

Number of maladies my bicycle was suffering from: approximately 3

Time taken to repair these problems by a deaf-mute Chinese guy, aided by his overbearing septuagenarian mother: about 20 minutes

Price of repairs: 5 yuan. (about 70-80c)

Number of functioning gears my bicycle had when 'repairs' were finished (of a possible 24): 12

Hours it took to restore my bike to pre-repair gear function: 2

So after that, I took a celebratory bike ride, and some snaps, including:

Kongfuzi Statue (better known to you ignorant barbarians as 'Confucius')

Might = Right (of way)

Some of the many views of my school that could've been taken 50 years ago when it opened (though the power pole probably wasn't there):

Though subtle hints of modernity are around, if you look very carefully:

I also managed to get a good shot of a local Chinese Opera Diva under full sail in a nearby park. If you click through and look at the larger image, you'll notice that about half the audience is actually looking at me.

I leaned up against a tree to watch her for a while.

Then I realised that the tree smelt like a urinal.

Then I realised that the tree WAS a urinal.

Heaven above Heaven

2007-06-02T20:31:00.000+08:00

I just ate a whole Honey Dew melon. It was delicous and cheap. I might do the same tomorrow even.

Anyway.

Last weekend, I found what I think may safely be called 'the only good reason to come within a 2 hour driving radius of Liaoyang'. That thing is Qianshan ('a thousand mountains' a slight exaggeration).

Any description I could offer would pale in comparison with that composed by Eternal Spring Tours. So here you go:

Qian-Shan Mountain
Mount Qianshan is the most famous tourist site in north China. It lies in the east, about 20 kilometers away from Anshan City, and boasts 999 mountains altogether, covering 152 square kilometers. So, it is also called thousand-lotus-flower mountain.

Mount Qianshan features many beautiful peaks, precipitious cliffs, secluded valleys, high-situated Taoism and Buddhism temples, grotesque pine trees in strange shape, exuberant flowers of various kinds, etc. So, for a very long history it has been given the name of Treasure Pearl of North China.

Ever from Shui Dynasty, it has been the religion center, and many Buddhists and Taoists came here to construct many temples, pagodas half way or at the top of the mountains. It is seldom for both Buddhism and Taoism temples stationing in one mountain area and left with present people so much cultural contents to read, understand ans explore.

For Taoism the most imposing temple is Infinity Temple who was built half way up the steep mountains and has very strange layout. Visitors coming here will sigh at the fine scenery and have the feeling of walking casually into a fairy land. Many poets left with us much poem praising the sights and so many poem inscription tablets stand fully or partly in deep shrub. Emperor-Visited Scenery Zone, Western Ocean Zone, Great Buddha Zone, Bird-Tweedling Zone and Immortal's Platform are present spot sites very deserving visting and at least 4 days are necessary to tour them all.

Well, we had one day. Actually around four hours. But I think we managed to get the requisite amount of walking casually into a fairyland.

Now, with so many mountains, and so little time, we chose to make a bee-line for this guy:

I think it was the "Mountain of Freaking Huge Buddha in some big-ass temple" or some such. The other peaks held such delights as "One Step Heaven", "A Line Heaven", "Heaven above Heaven", "Heaven slightly to the right of Heaven*" and the alluringly named "Strip Heaven".

After discarding my serfs and chicken entrails as dictated by point number seven on this sign:

We started the walk up the wide, lightly inclined avenue, keeping an eye out for marauding uber-golfcarts carrying the lazier tourists, till we got to this guy:

You'll notice how he's laughing, and looking very relaxed. This is because he knows that you are about to climb a bunch of stairs, whereas he is not.

Though again, for the Chinese tourist who insists on showing up either in impractically high heels or a full shirt/tie/jacket ensemble, there is the soft option:

We took the stairs.

Getting closer:

Seeing what must be several hundred tons of marble at the top of a very tall hill, accessible only by a narrow winding path (and a cable car) conjures images of Buddhist super monks effortlessly hefting huge slabs of stone on their backs, leaping from peak to peak to build their sequestered house of prayer. This sense of awe is somewhat dampened when you see plaques indicating that it was constructed in the ancient year of 2004.

Eventually, we found ourselves at this door, (flanked by two rather ridiculously muscled monk type fellows) What mysteries would it hold for the determined supplicant who had completed their hour long penance of stair climbing? (or 3 minutes of cable car riding?)

why BUDDHA RIDING ON A GIANT GOLDEN EAGLE OF COURSE.

Which is, as they say, something that you do not see everyday. Now I'm not one of those people that comes to the mysterious Orient and goes all gaga over the 'sublime beauty of Eastern Religion over Western Dogma' or whatever, but if the new testament involved more Jesus riding giant anthropomorphic giant eagles, I wouldn't complain.

Anyway, all of this aside, the reason why I think this is the best place I've seen in Liaoning Province so far is this:

You can look out over the landscape for about 270 degrees, and see no signs of human civilisation whatsoever. Just trees and mountains and more trees. Authentic wilderness. The thing about China, is that it has been continuously inhabited pretty much forever, certainly for the last 6000 years. Almost every inhabitable inch of soil has been farmed, flooded, burnt, built on, dug up, filled in, slept, shat and died on, by thousands of people for thousands of years. And it shows. There are really places in this country where you have an overwhelming sense that the very earth is worn. So to be able to stand not 20 minutes from a city of several million people, and stare out at pure untrammeled nature, bonafide wilderness, is, I think, something special.

* Okay I made that one up. You can quit looking for it in your guidebook.

Emergency Rations

2007-05-26T20:37:00.000+08:00

Due to some budgeting mishaps (ie spending 3/4 of my months salary in one week in Beijing earlier this month) and some bank issues (ie me forgetting the PIN number for my Australian bank card, then spending half an hour at an ATM swearing under my breath and punching random groups of digits), I am left with approximately 20 RMB to last me until Monday. This works out to a little more than $3. Faced with this, I was forced to restrict myself to 8 RMB for dinner tonight. With this measly sum, I was only able to afford:

- 1 huge bowl of delicious Korean Mixed Fried Rice (an egg, some chicken, some bean sprouts, some green beans, various other vegetables and uh, rice)
- 1 side of pickled but otherwise unidentifiable brown vegetables (carcinogenalicious)
- 1 600ml Liaoyang Dry Beer.

I have a feeling I'm going to be sorely disappointed when I return to the real world and discover what kind of meal I can get for a dollar.

Chairman Gates

2007-05-25T00:24:00.000+08:00

Scenes from my classes over the last 9 months:

Which famous person would you most like to meet? "Bill Gates"

Who do you think best embodies your idea of 'success'? "Bill Gates"

If you could have dinner with a famous celebrity, who would it be? "Bill Gates"

If you could be a famous person for one day, who would you be? "Bill Gates".

Turns out that this phenomenon is not restricted to my classroom.

http://www.wired.com/techbiz/people/news/2007/05/chairmangates

MIDI Music Fest

2007-05-24T21:07:00.000+08:00

So I missed out on the Big Day Out this year, and Meredith, and Hippie Plains or whatever it was called, but I still managed to get just a taste of that music festival fix, at the 8th Annual MIDI festival. Overall I was pretty impressed, though that may have had more to do with the cheap beer and cheap (but, uh, rather facilitating) yang rou chuan'r (sheep on a stick).

The festival started out in the local music school, and has grown every year, with more international (though basically unknown) acts every time. So in 10 years time when all the hipsters are like 'screw Glastonbury and Coachella, I'm going to MIDI man' I'll be able to smirk in a self satisfied manner and say 'Oh yeah, I was there before it got all commercial' Such is the stuff of dreams.

Anyway, after drinking too much Tsingtao in the queue (but still managing to smuggle a few in) and the compulsory throwing of the goats, we got down to business:

And if you ignore the prevalence of Chinese flags, you can see that standing in a large group of people and screaming your head off while a group of people systematically destroy your hearing, is a universal delight.

One thing I thought was cool were the festival tshirts. They were basically just white (prominent LEE logo notwithstanding) and paints and stencils and whatnot were provided to make your own memento. It was a little dispiriting how many kids went for the large LEE stencil (or made their own 'nike' or 'adidas' branded masterpieces) but this guy had the right idea:

And because everyone loves a sunset, and a shoulder ride:

Afterwards we ate here:

Which, if you are a fan of GIGANTIC pizza (and who isn't?) is the place to go in Beijing.

They also have the cheapest Guinness in town (40RMB). Nuff said.

Wan Fu Jin 'food' street.

2007-05-22T20:33:00.000+08:00

So you're a tourist in the mysterious Orient. After a busy day buying cut price Diesel Jeans, experiencing the exotic eastern charms of Starbucks, and buying a whole container load of 'authentic' Mao portraits and 100% totally not fake Ming Dynasty Porcelain, you start to feel a little peckish.

Well, if you happen to be in the vicinity of the WanFuJin pedestrian mall in Beijing, you can hang a louie into WanFuJin XiaoJie, and experience the heady delights of 'real' Chinese street cuisine. (In my experience this equated to sub-par fried noodles and watery beer).

Basically, like the aforementioned communist paraphernalia and whatnot, the whole street is based around what foreign people expect to see in craaaaazy China. On a stick. While I couldn't find a restaurant serving live monkey brains, I did eat these:

(pretty oily. crunchy)

But not these:

Or these (skewered but still alive. Though presumably the deep fryer takes care of that):

Or anything from here (which to be fair wasn't actually in WanFuJin):

In the background of the scorpion picture is 'stinky tofu' which I did try. As the name suggests it tastes slightly worse than old socks.

The Gōngfu Masters

2007-05-14T20:42:00.000+08:00

A park.

Early Evening.

Late Spring.

North East China.

The sun is setting, and the square is filled with running, screaming children; with young lovers holding hands and laughing nervously; with scores of the elderly, slowly going through the motions of their Tai Ji, their steps keeping time to a scratchy boombox that is turned loud to drown out the voices of those practicing opera in a nearby pavilion.

Yet amidst all this chaos and hubbub and life, two men stand, stoic and unaffected like weathered stones in a fast flowing river, motionless as the stream of youth and modernity unconsciously parts to flow around them.

It is difficult to gauge the years in their weathered faces, but they are old, in their late 70s perhaps. One is dressed all in White Silk , the other in Black.

They stand, toe to toe, with their left forearms braced against each other, their poses showing their familiarity with a discipline in which their bodies and minds have been schooled for decades, a martial tradition perfected untold generations before their birth.

They begin to sway, in a circular motion, each taking turns at first pushing, and then yielding to the others calm, indomitable strength. In the long shadows of willow trees, their eyes lock onto each other, their concentration absolute, their focus unbreakable. As the mournful strains of an Erhu cut through the air, the two men move back and forth, back and forth, a dance of both force and passivity, black and white, calm and strength, Ying and Yang made flesh.

Then, just when it seems that they have ceased to be separate people, transcending flesh and person to become a manifestation of pure qi, the guy in black kicks the guy in white up the bum and runs away giggling, pursued by his laughing, white pajama'd friend.

I notice he's wearing bright red chuck tailors.

Four Eyes

2007-05-12T13:27:00.000+08:00

Yep. I finally bit the bullet and took advantage of China's rock-bottom prices to get myself a pair of glasses.

I don't really need them, but its nice to see everything just that more clearly (wow! Trees have leaves!) I hope I don't get beat up at school on Monday.

By the way, I paid 218 RMB all up for glasses, lenses, and consultation. You can go here if you want to compare prices and find out how badly your local optometrist is fleecing you.

Hangin in Tianjin

2007-05-12T00:24:00.000+08:00

Welcome along everybody, help yourself to the tea and scones. Now, before we get started on today's agenda, two pieces of housekeeping:

1. Blogger is blocked again for those of you keeping score

2. I decided to do away with the obnoxiously large images. Unfortunately, the next step down for Flickr is kind of small. You can click on them to embiggen.

So, as fun as it was last time, I vowed that I was not going to spend the entirety of the May Holiday in Beijing drinking and gorging myself on non-Chinese food. The tricky part however, is that when I get time off, so do a billion odd Chinese. This makes travel difficult, crowded and expensive. What I did manage to wrangle though, was a day in sunny Tianjin, about 2 hours (by rickety bus) East of Beijing, on the Bohai Gulf.

Its a nice town, sitting on the Hai He river, and famous for its boazi, which we ate at one of the more famous restaurants, Goubuli (狗不理). The locally brewed beer was crap and the food took forever to arrive (despite constant hectoring by my Chinese speaking friend) but was pretty good. The '100 year old beef' was particularly tasty.

Various foreign interests barged in after the Chinese were 'convinced' to open Tianjin to international trade during the opium wars, so there's a bunch of very non-Chinesey architecture around:

Though of course that's rapidly being overshadowed by that most Chinese of constructions, large clumps of high rise apartments:

And yeah, that's a tank. Not sure why its there, just a subtle reminder I guess.

We were mostly in Tianjin to check out the markets, which come in two flavours - The hutongs, where you can buy all manner of bric a brac, rusty old communist paraphernalia, and 20 year old Motorola cellphones. (We were lucky enough to walk through just after a very leaky bitumen truck had passed.)

and the ironically(?) named 'Old China Street' where you can buy all manner of bric a brac, shiny new communist paraphernalia, and 20 minute old Motorola cellphones (probably).

(Can you guess which of the people in that photo I was traveling with?). In both places you need to haggle hard (which I have zero talent for) but at least in the hutongs they seem to have more of a sense of humour about it. If you offer the old toothless guy 10% of what he wants for the rusty tin 'Victory over Japan' pin, he'll laugh at you (and maybe agree); the stern lady selling the fancy 'Ethnic Minority Crafts' will throw you out of the store.

To round up, here's Paul, Sarah and Me, I think Paul was explaining how they wouldn't let him use the public toilet.

and here's a lady with a one legged frog on her shoulder

Exciting announcement tomorrow, with pictures! Stay tuned.

Weather Report

2007-05-07T22:59:00.000+08:00

Today: Sand.

So I went out this evening to buy some bananas, and thought to myself "that's weird, why is there nobody around on this sunny, pleasantly breezy evening?". Ten minutes later, with eyes, hair, and mouth full of grit, I had my answer.

Yesterday: Bees.

I was on a bus back from Beijing yesterday, and at about halfway, somewhere around the edge of Liaoning Province, we ran into a cloud of bees, there must've been thousands. This was also where we chose to take our rest stop. I've never seen anything like it, glad I'm not allergic. Maybe it has something to do with this.

Anyway, spent the May holiday in Beijing, with a couple of days at the Midi Music Festival, which was fun, and a day in Tianjin. I was supposed to go to Qingdao for a couple of days too, but, you know:

More stuff soon.

Spring is sprung...

2007-04-19T21:36:00.000+08:00

the grass is rizz
I wonder where the birdies is!*

What a difference a week makes.

Liaoyang - early April:

Liaoyang today:

*there's a blackly comic story behind that. In the 1950's, during the great leap forward, it was decided that peasants should take actions against "The Four Harms", lice, rats, flies and sparrows. The party agriculturalists calculated that each sparrow ate 4.5 kg of the People's grain each year, so peasants were dispatched into the fields to bang pots and pans, frightening the sparrows away from landing, until they dropped dead from exhaustion. One province alone apparently killed 2.8 million of them. The next year's crop was huge, and everybody celebrated the wisdom of the great helmsman. What wasn't taken into account however, was the fact that, along with grain, sparrows eat insects. Including Locusts. No sparrows = Locust happyfuntime. A year or two later, and China was in the midst of the greatest famine in history, in which 30 million people died.

Anyway, to this day, you see very few birds in Chinese cities.

Bargains - The Enemy of the People

2007-04-16T14:12:00.000+08:00

From one of my students' textbooks:

Bargains

To offer bargains is a commercial trick to make the poor poorer. When greedy fools fall for this trick, it serves them right. All the same, if bargains were prohibited by law, our standard of living would immediately rise by 7.39 percent.

The textbook didn't site a source for the rather precise standard of living increase.

I should also note that, at 45 RMB, the book was a little overpriced.

My weekend was better than yours...

2007-04-15T21:10:00.000+08:00

...because I went to Beijing and saw NOFX.

I know its not cool to like NOFX after you finish puberty, but I enjoy cartoons and the occasional fart joke too, so what're ya gonna do.

Despite the fact that the audience was probably about 80% American (and, due to there being no legal drinking age in China, around 15 years old), a very enjoyable time was had.

I received a slightly chipped tooth for my troubles, and the next morning I hawked up what appeared to a small brain hemorrhage whilst in the shower, so I guess the basic requirements of punk rock were met.

I also had a fun night completely failing to explain the rules of cricket to an American guy, and learning from a fat, drunk Canadian why it was not only acceptable but necessary to club baby seals. (In case you're interested: because they are VERMIN and they have WORMS).

Tiananmen and Forbidden City (aka the stuff that you've probably seen a million pictures of already)

2007-04-09T21:26:00.000+08:00

Well, I figure I need to wrap up Beijing round one before round two begins, so here it is, the main event, Tiananmen and the Forbidden City.

Now aside from the Great Wall, this is probably the most famous place in China, largely due to all that stuff that totally didn't happen on June 4 1989 (and if that date doesn't trigger a key word filter somewhere, I would be very surprised). By the time I made it there I guess I was suffering from camera fatigue, and was pretty well tapped out on Ming/Qing era architecture, so photos are sparse. What there is, is here

The infamous square itself isn't much to look at, (Its the world's largest public square but still, its just a square) though even in the off season when I was there there's a bunch of people milling around and the attendant map/flag sellers and scam artists that prey on them (although, being the off season, the tourists were mostly Chinese so the scammers weren't as thick on the ground as I'd heard they might be).

My great disappointment was that Zombie Mao was not available for viewing, as they were performing whatever dark rituals they must perform annually in order to keep him all nice and composed in his glass sarcophagus(interesting side note, when I told my Chinese friends about my disappointment, they all asked "so you think its a real body?"). So without that macabre gawk fest, all you're left with is a large paved area, a monument to the People's Glorious something or other, some statuary and some nice big Brutalist slabs of concrete that serve as government buildings.

See:

and:

(I bet that guy's job is a hoot)

and, guarding the MAOsoleum (yuk yuk), this fella:

I quite enjoy the thrust of these kinds of Chinese statues, they're all surging forward into... well something.

Anyway, looking to the North, you would be hard pressed to miss the 'Gate of Heavenly Peace' (which, surprise, translates as Tiānānmén). And off course, smack bang in the middle is a mugshot of Mr Heavenly Peace himself.

The characters say (from the left) "Long Live the People's Republic of China" and "Long live the Unity of the People's of the World"

So inside, you have a sprawling (some 440,000 square metres), walled city where the last few centuries of Chinese gliterati made their home, leaving only when absolutely necessary. It was considered to be the very centre of the universe (the universe being of course, China) and is in the dead centre of Beijing. The first thing you learn upon entering, is why its not a good idea to be visiting important Chinese cultural sites in the lead up to the Olympic games:

As I said before, I didn't take all that many pictures, but I did manage to find where they keep the spare stone lions:

Guess they couldn't compete with this guy:

I also found this interesting, a kind of half finished, psuedo-Victorian piece, and the only building in the place (I assume) using iron girders in its construction. There was nothing as useful as a plaque or anything like that to explain it, but it may have been one of the follies of Pu-Yi, the last emperor of China (though basically a puppet of various warlords, then the Japanese). I thought it was neato anyway:

And here is a wall, which illustrates the overwhelming theme of the Forbidden City: RED

Anyway, if you haven't gotten tired of waiting for those images to load and clicked off to more exciting corners of the internet yet, I present to you, the Ben Shaw Guide to Touristing in Tiananmen and avoiding the annoying people trying to sell you stuff or con you into coming to see their paintings or buy their maps or paper Chinese flags or give you a tour or something™

Keep your eyes fixed at some non-specific point in the mid-distance, and stride, with purpose, in that direction. Set your face to 'stern'.
Do not, at any time, stop moving. This will only invite someone to "help" you. For a fee
If possible, wear headphones. That way, when three people are running along beside you waving brochures and yelling "Mr! Mr! Tour! Tour!" you can at least pretend not to see them.
Pillars with maps, tourist information, or any kind of vendor stall are to be avoided entirely. These are to tourist scammers what Raccoon feces are to brain parasites.
All photographs should be taken whilst in motion, or if not possible you should start moving as soon as the shutter falls
Go in Winter.

Last, and most important tip of all: Normally, during peak season, it costs extra to see the Museums that are within the forbidden city. If you are ever there, DO IT. They are easily the best part of the whole shebang. There are museums for ceramics, jewellery and bronze work, each containing works that are up to 4000 years old. I can imagine that during the busy season, they'd be kind of crowded, and you'd have to see them 'Chinese style' (ie, file in one door, move past exhibits at a brisk and orderly pace that doesn't really allow you to actually look at anything, file out other door), but when I went they were largely empty and, even though many of the information cards are only in Chinese, well worth a look.

International Banking - China Style

2007-04-05T22:20:00.000+08:00

In just 16 easy steps!

Please note that all steps in this program requiring verbal communication are to be done via translator, which adds a +2 to confusion

1.Enter bank that you are reliably informed will perform this service

2.Receive information that this bank no longer performs said service

3.Go to Post Office (who apparently perform this service)

4.Receive information that this transaction will require the use of US dollars, even though you have Chinese RMB, you are in a Chinese Post Office, you are depositing into an Australian bank account, and no physical money is actually changing hands anyway.

5.Go to bank number two to exchange money, only to be accosted en route by black market money dealers who seem suspiciously aware that you are after US dollars.

6.After deciding that the rate offered is in fact reasonably fair, (and enjoying mild thrill at doing something 'black market') decide that you need to go to the banks currency exchange anyway to authenticate the bills you have been given (step 6a. Realise that you've never really seen US money before and it looks kind of like monopoly money).

7.Express mild surprise that nobody in the bank seems overly concerned that black market money dealers (their competition) use them to authenticate bills.

8.Return to Post Office. Complete form. Submit to teller

9.Learn that Teller thought you were trying to send money to a person, not a bank account in your own name.

10.Learn that you have filled out the wrong form

11.Learn that US dollars weren't necessary after all.

12.Fill out (correct) form. Submit form, passport, and cash to teller.

13.Explain to the teller, with some difficulty, that, yes, the name on your passport is Ben Matthew Shaw, but that your account name is merely Ben Shaw.

14. Assure the teller (again with difficulty) that this is in fact possible and not an attempt to commit nefarious (though small-scale) acts of international monetary fraud.

15.Wait for teller to check notes. Teller will return saying that, though they are authentic, Post Office will not accept the bills that have a small president head on them (older notes) and will only except the newer notes, graced by a larger presidential noggin.

16.Give up. Try again tomorrow.

Teaching kids to speak english good

2007-04-04T21:05:00.000+08:00

This is an actual exchange that took place in my class today:

Ben: Okay, so before we go on, let's just get one thing right. It's "Rock 'n' Roll"

Class: Rock and Roll

Ben: Rock 'n' Roll

Class: Rock and Roll

Ben: No. There is no "and". If you say Rock "and" Roll people will laugh at you and call you a square. Now listen carefully: "Rock 'n' Roll"

Class: Rock and Roll

Ben: [sigh] Up and Atom*

Class: Rock and... shenme?

Speaking of Rock and Roll, I'm off to Beijing next weekend to see NOFX play, which should be fun, and a very strange clash of cultures. Hopefully before then I will have completed my current cycle of Beijing blabbing and photo force-feeding (blogs are the slide-show of the 21st century) but I've been lazy lately (with blog/physical activity/learning Chinese, everything in my day that I'm not paid to do really) so that may not happen.

* if you don't get this reference you fail popular culture.

Browsers Wowsers

2007-03-29T23:13:00.000+08:00

So it's been brought to my attention recently that due to my enormous ~~ego~~ banner, this page isn't loading properly for some people. Safari puts the banner over top of the text, resulting in an unacceptable loss of up to 10% of my signature ~~ego~~ wit, and Internet Explorer moves the side bar to the bottom (on my screen anyway) thus preventing you from gazing upon my awesome likeness whilst reading about my exciting adventures. To this I propose a simple solution.

Use Firefox.

Thank you. That is all.

Parks Parks Parks - Volume 3

2007-03-29T22:05:00.000+08:00

This week I have been laid low by a cold that has swept through the college, infecting all in its wake with snuffles and irritability (I'm extrapolating my symptoms to the general population). The weather is collaborating by providing a constant drizzle that teeters on the edge of raining but refuses to just get on with already. Though it did manage to sneak a shower in while I was at the Supermarket, so I had to ride my bike home in the rain without a coat. My cold enjoyed that. Fortunately I am flush with green tea, snacks, and DVDs so will not need to leave the warm cocoon of my apartment for the next few days.

Moving on to the final installment in my extremely limited tour of Beijing's green bits, I give you my favourite (non-licensed) place in all of Beijing:

Volume 3: Jingshan Park

This little park lies directly north of the Forbidden City, and like the Summer Palace features a large artificial hill, this time made from the excavations of the Palace moat. As pretty much the only break in central Beijing's uniform flatness, its kind of hard to miss. The thing that makes it easy to miss, is that if you're there you've probably just spent a day walking around the Forbidden city and are about ready to put your feet up and grab a lukewarm Qingdao (my first entry into the world of Wiki-ing.*) .

It is however, well worth the 2RMB admission, and a sliver of your time. For starters, you can see the tree (or at least a tree in the same place) where Chongzhen, last of the Ming Emperors, hung himself in 1644. After that, a quick climb up Jingshan hill (named, with typical aesthetic judgment, 'Coal Hill' by occupying British forces in the late 19th century) and you have some pretty sweet (if smog obscured) views over the Forbidden City and the rest of Beijing.

There's a few Buddhist pagoda's at the summit, but the Buddhas themselves were carted off to parts unknown by those pesky allied occupiers. Perhaps they thought that Buddhas were a little too sublime for Coal Hill.

Anyway, panoramic views aside, the real beauty of JinShan park, for me, was in the small wooded area behind the hill, to the North. Now perhaps it was due to the time of year (many people leave the city during Spring Festival, and there are few tourists) or maybe I was in a particularly contemplative mood that day, but coming down the side of the hill, I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by birdsong (still a rarity in urban China, but that's a story for another time) and the strains of traditional opera singing accompanied by an accordion. One of my favourite things about China is the retiree culture. While our elders are watching television or playing bingo or slowly stewing in care facilities, Chinese people, sprightly well into their 70s and beyond, pass their days playing chess on street corners, gathering together in parks to sing, play instruments, or practice Tai Ji, or just squat on a doorstep and watch the world go by. It often strikes me that those eyes, peeking out from underneath the standard issue blue cap, have seen some very 'interesting times'. I don't know what they make of the cellphones and cars and fake Nike stores, but I guess they're happy to make it to an age that many of their contemporaries did not.

So I found a stone bench and sat for an hour or so in the weak, late afternoon sun, listening to an old man playing haunting melodies on an erhu. He was interrupted by the occasional inquisitive stranger, or by an elderly couple walking by, arm in arm, singing at the top of their lungs for no other reason than the sheer pleasure of it. It was an unexpected oasis of calm and serenity in the middle of an overcrowded, dirty city of 14 million souls. It was fantastic.

On my way out, I passed what has to be my favourite of the thousand or so stone lions I've seen since arriving in China. He's clearly chuffed with carrying out his solemn duty of guarding over the coats and bags of the people playing nearby (another great facet of Chinese culture, they never lose the ability/affection for play. I don't recall the name, but the people here are playing a Chinese variation of hacky sack popular with everyone from 7 year old kids to 70 year old women. Beats the hell out of Bingo or Scrabble if you ask me).

It was nice too to note that the 10m high wall, originally built to keep common folk such as these well out of the way of the idle nobility, was now serving to shield these people from the view and noise of the bustling city, and allowing them to indulge in these simple pleasures.

Woah. Contemplative might've been understating it.

* Okay, so I wrote this one too. Feel free to improve.

FRAUD

2007-03-25T19:37:00.000+08:00

So tonight I had an interesting discussion with a very authoritatively voiced man named Greg, from the Westpac Bank of Australia Credit Card Fraud Division. (Who apparently maintain office hours well into Sunday evening.)

They had contacted me earlier this month about some questionable transactions on my card, and as I hadn't told them I was coming to China, I assumed that they were merely a little concerned that Ben Shaw of 51 Sutherland Street Brunswick 3056 Melbourne was making credit card transactions in Beijing.

'Twas not so. In fact what had happened is that earlier this month, somebody had used my credit card details to register with an apparently dubious charity called the Islamic Relief Fund. Now I'm all for people being relieved of their religion, but I much prefer the 'haughty arrogant atheist' approach to anything that costs money.

Anyway, they didn't try to spend any of my credit, but they did get my credit card details from somewhere which is a little worrying. The prime suspect is the helpful online movie viewing software that my boss absolutely insisted I install when I first arrived and was naive to the potential dangers of Chinese Spyware. After a few weeks of rapidly declining performance, and the realisation that all of my shortcuts were now pointing to places elsewhere than they were supposed to, I reinstalled windows, changed all my passwords etc. Apparently I was not thorough enough.

My chief concern now is I'm one of these enigmatic 'lists' that the US government maintains, and that I won't be able to enter the US. Which would suck. I really want to see it before its gone.

Parks Parks Parks - Volume 2

2007-03-23T23:08:00.000+08:00

Well, blogger is back on the blacklist again, hopefully not because of anything I did. Anyway, via the dark internet magic of proxies, here is:

Volume 2: The Summer Palace

The Summer Palace, or Yíhé Yuán, has been a popular hang out for Beijing's elites for almost 1000 years (if my Chinese tourism sources are to be believed which maybe they aren't) . Certainly since the 1700's its been the place to go when the cobbled shady alleyways and impenetrable walls of the Forbidden City started making the Ming Emperors and their gang feel a little hemmed in.

Basically the park consists of a large lake, Kūn Míng Hú and a hill, Wàn Shòu Shān (Longevity Hill) that was made from the soil that was manually removed in the enlarging of the lake. Its a big hill. One imagines that it probably didn't represent longevity for the labourers who had to move the approximately 3.3 million cubic metres of soil without the aid of machinery. (Someone check my math, the lake is 2.2 square kilometres in area, and averages 1.5m deep, I'm kind of rusty)

Anyway, its a pretty park. Its component parts are supposed to be a representation of China at large, with the lake, the hill and the architecture all stand ins for their real counterparts in the places that were too far from Beijing to warrant visiting.

Upon entering, we find that, as with all major toursty things in Beijing at the moment, parts of it are being restored and are off limits. Next to the big tarp with the weird 2D representation of the building its covering, this guy guards the entrance in all his horsey dragony snakey liony deery glory.

In turn, the statue is protected by this sign:

Which seems to suggest that the railings are as important as the centuries old statues. I attempted to translate that second line of characters, and came up with something resembling 'love the fence post' which isn't any less confusing.

From the top of Wàn Shòu Shān, there are some nice (if smog obscured) views North West from Beijing

Coming down the face of the hill, you get to see a pretty cool mishmash of buildings, windy stone paths, buddhisty things (again proving the buddhist 'more is more' density rule) and a nice tree-lined corridor.

Now, being the Summer Palace, Summer is probably a great time to visit. As it was, I was there at the tail end of winter, when the lake is, either due to freezing or draining, basically a giant, slightly noxious smelling mud flat. It does detract from the money shot a little, but here it is anyway:

And what better to sail on a non-existent lake, than an immovable stone boat?

The weirdest thing about the vast stinky mudflat, is that people were actually walking out on it, foraging for something or other. Like this guy. Either he thought there was something edible beneath that smelly mud, or he didn't get the memo that the Ming Dynasty was overthrown and the lake is quite deep enough now thanks.

In the centre of the 'lake' there is an small island with a cluster of temples and things, including the delightfully named 'Temple of Timely Rains and Extensive Moisture'. (I didn't find the temple of Foul Smelling Mud.) I was in photo fatigue by this point (as you probably are), but I got a nice shot of the bridge to the island.

And that is that. We made our way out, running the gauntlet of hawkers that yelled 'tour guide! tour guide!' on the way in, dodging them as they yelled 'taxi! taxi!' on the way out. Then I probably went and got drunk if memory serves (it does not).

And if all that hasn't given you your daily fix of waiting for images to load, there's more here.

BONUS TIP

The Summer Palace Drinking Game: Every time you see a plaque saying "this building was burnt/destroyed by Anglo-French forces in 1860", take a drink. Finish your beverage if they carted off a priceless relic in the process. You won't make it half way around.

Parks Parks Parks - Volume 1

2007-03-19T22:06:00.000+08:00

Beijing, as a playground for succesive dynasties (whether divine, nationalistic or dictatorship of the proletariat) has its fair share of parks. I went to a few of them. Want to hear about it? With lots of pictures?

Good.

Read on.

Volume 1: Beihai Park

If you want the full history lesson you can ask Google, but basically Beihai park is where ol' Kublai Kahn used to hang out in the pre-Forbidden City days. The only thing remaining from his era is a big jade jar carved with dragons, which I couldn't really photograph because it's in a big glass case outdoors so is pretty much a reflection-fest. The center piece of the park is the Jade Islet, upon which sits a Bái tǎ (White Tower), built to impress the Dalai Lama some 350 years ago when he and China were on somewhat better terms.

Some of my photos are kind of bluey because I was screwing around with white balance settings to see what would cut through the smog most effectively. Turns out its the 'Halogen' setting.

Like this (dull original here):

That white tower you see there is the white tower.

Here it is a little closer. I guess if I was a reincarnated New World Camelid I'd find that impressive. But once you've been around a few centuries who knows? I bet you'd get sick of climbing stairs.

Anyway, it seems the most surefire way of impressing one of the innumerable incarnations of Avalokiteśvara is a simple formula of maximum buddhas per square inch.

The best thing about Beihai park though, is at the northern end of the lake, where they tone down the buddhas and start packing in the dragons. In particular the Jiǔlóng Bì or 9 dragon wall. According to local signage (and why would they lie?) this is the largest example of glazed tile art in China. I just thought it was pretty damn cool.

Here's one of the dragons in close up:

And here's the whole shebang in panaramavision. Once again you can click to embiggen but its pretty huge (and the joins are much more obvious).

If you just can't get enough Beihai goodness, or you want to see close ups of all the dragons, the full set is here.

NB: In the course of writing this post, I had cause to Google the word 'Dalai Lama', and was even foolish enough to click one of the links. Now I'm getting a 'the connection was reset' error every time I try to load Google. If you're reading this oh diligent Chinese internet police, please understand that my intent was to have a laugh at his holiness' expense, not to overthrow the legitimate government of the People's Republic. Furthermore, his holiness could stand to take some fashion tips from his predecessor, especially in the kickass moustache department.

No Banner!?!

2007-03-14T23:42:00.000+08:00

Well my good buddy Jason went and designed me a fantastico new banner, but as I speak HTML about as well as I speak Chinese, I'm having some trouble getting it to go in the right place (ie not behind/on top of the text). Blogger seems to want to resize it as well which is a pain.

Anyway, its late and I have class tomorrow so I'll fix it later. Until then please feel free to meditate on the sublime nothingness at the head of the page and allow its vast blankness to draw your mind into serene contemplation of the infinite.

Or something.

UPDATE: Okay so the original image, while totally radtastic,

didn't really banner up very well, so Jason did a redesign and ended up somewhere in the neighbourhood of absolutely freaking perfect.

The Chinese may not be entirely correct, but I'm pretty sure the general gist of it is there. Any suggestions for corrections welcome.

I love it.

Beijing By Numbers

2007-03-13T22:11:00.000+08:00

(Please bear in mind at all times the disclaimer from the beginning of this entry)

28 days in Beijing
7 hours from Liaoyang by bus
473 pictures taken. (Mostly indistinguishable pictures of Ming and Qing dynasty architecture and the obligatory tourist shots of Tienanmen and the Forbidden City)
100+ people per Beijing subway car at peak times (estimated by degree of crushing I received)
160 bottles of Tsingtao emptied into my gullet.
28 vodka tonics, scotch and dries, whiskey cokes or long island ice teas imbibed (see item 33).
12 Bullrushes (redbull, vodka, absinth. Not recommended for anyone ever.)
25 hangovers
3 seasons of Seinfeld viewed
40 episodes of Arrested Development (easily the best American sitcom ever made)
12 recent Hollywood Blockbusters viewed (obtained from friendly local pirates)
about 6 of which were worth seeing. (I definitely recommend The Prestige and The Queen
was okay too.)
4 books assimilated (Freaknomics, Identity and Violence, A Walk in the Woods, Coming Home Crazy all of which receive the Ben Shaw stamp of 'gee that's interesting' approval)
12+ seedy bars that I frequented
1 (or 2) classier drinking establishments that I had occasion to enjoy a drink at from time to time
30 RMB – most money paid for a 330 ml beer (see item 15)
3 RMB – least money paid for a 600 ml beer (see item 14)
3 Chinese phrases that I regularly used. They were: "san ping tsingtao" (3 bottles of tsingtao), "duo shao qian?" (how much is it?) and "yo wiener ma?" (do you have wiener?). I was somewhat dismayed to find on my return to Liaoyang that I have forgotten basically all my Chinese bar these three phrases.
50 times I heard the song 'Next Episode'
at least a dozen wiener Baozi drunkenly purchased and gnawed upon.
12+ bowls of cheap but tasty niu rou mian (beef noodles) eaten at local noodlery
18 cans of Diet Doctor pepper consumed (tasty and addictive)
40 Jaozi personally infaciated on new years eve. (Yeah I made a word up. Its a verb meaning 'to stuff in your face'. I'm and English teacher, I can do that.)
about a 1000 fireworks detonated in my immediate vicinity
6 AM – time that fireworks would begin in the morning
2 AM – time that fireworks might stop, if you were lucky
3 car alarms set off per firecracker (average)
90 minutes - average response time for owner of above cars to deactivate alarms
2 PM - average time I would drag myself from the couch where I slept
9 stamps I got on my Lush Cafe loyalty card (one away from a free meal! If only I'd remembered to whip it out when consuming hot dogs at 4.30am...)
42 Below
3 times I had to have the exact same introductory conversation with a drunken belligerent New Zealander who frequented Propaganda
50 RMB for all you can drink at Propaganda on a Wednesday night (see items 14, and 32)
70 times per minute that an experienced hawker at the technology markets can yell 'Sony!' right in your ear.
0 places in all of China that sell SD WiFi cards for Palm Pilots according to a self proclaimed Palm Pilot expert guy at the technology markets.
90 minutes that I managed to stay awake during the Stupor Bowl for which I got up at 5.30 am and caught a 40 min taxi ride across town. There was however a free breakfast buffet (see item 40). I also got my 15 minutes of fame on the unfortunately URL'd "That's Beijing" website.
20 KM - estimated distance I wandered through various Hutongs whilst 'exploring' (ie lost)
400 RMB spent upon discovering a foreign languages bookstore. I consider myself lucky to have gotten out that well.
3000+ people that decided to shop at Karrefour supermarket on the day before New Year. (including me and Mark).
5 kilos of estimated weight gain whilst in Beijing (see items 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 11, 13, 20, 21, 23, 29, 30, 33, 36)

and as a special bonus: 5 wrong numbers that called me whilst writing this post. As I don't know how to say 'sorry hombre you've got the wrong number' I just English at them until they get confused/frightened and hang up.

Beijing by Night

2007-03-09T20:38:00.000+08:00

Having spent the last 5 months in a town who's idea of nightlife consisted of a gut busting load of dumplings, a few slugs of baiju and a trip to the local bathhouse (not really my scene), one of my first questions upon arriving in Beijing was - “where can a guy get a beer, listen to bad pop music, scare Korean girls and second hand smoke his way through a pack or two of cigarettes?”. Turns out that in Beijing – almost everywhere.

Aside from my favoured musical haunt, Wudaokou offered many watering holes with varying levels of notoriety/quality/price. Further across town there is the famous Sanlitun bar street, the place to go if you want to be hit on by Chinese girls looking for a drink from a wealthy laowai; watch the spoilt, 16 year old children of diplomats and foreign business men hook up (there's no minimum drinking age in China); buy dodgy cigars from street pedlars, or even dodger substances from pedlars just a little off the street; or pay a ridiculous amount of money to some tuxedoed gorilla to step into a gaudily neon lit, 'European' styled bar with soft porn on huge screens and drinks that cost two hours salary. Generally most people just choose to get obnoxiously drunk.

One thing that almost every bar I went to in Beijing had in common though, was their music playlist. I'm pretty sure they produce the Djs at some factory somewhere, all perfectly tuned to spec. The following is a list of songs I never wish to hear again (but I no doubt will, upon my next visit to Beijing)

Dr Dre – the Next Episode

Shakira – Hips don't lie

That one by Beyonce

Anything released by Snoop Dogg in the last 2 years

My Humps (though I never wanted to hear that song ever anyway)

House of Pain – Jump Around (and anybody who knows me well will know how it pains me to say that)

Anyway, in my local area, there were two bars of particular note – Zub and Propaganda. Zub because it had two for one cocktails on Monday, Wednesday and Friday and is owned by a New Zealander (who I didn't get to meet) so stocks that finest of intoxicants – 42 below vodka. Now this will only impress a very select audience (ie those who are from New Zealand and who have some familiarity with China/Chinese drinking customs) but this poster so amused me when I spied it above the men's urinal, that I had to 'souvenir' it. Sorry Zub.

I think its worthwhile to spell out the text here:

So we didn't invent paper

or gunpowder

whatever bro

we still kick the shit out of Baiju

GanBei Motherfucker*

And the small text at the bottom:

Sure. Baiju is great sometimes, like the time I accidentally super glued my finger to my left nut, and let's face it, it's great for removing those stubborn stains that just won't come out, but when I want to take a shot of a clear liquid I choose the spirit that won't polish the glass – cheers.

Bear in mind that this is how a major, publicly traded company in New Zealand chooses to advertise in the (world's largest) overseas market. This is the equivalent of going to France and telling them that their champagne is horse urine and they should all drink our Riesling instead, except that in this case almost a quarter of all people in the world are French.

I think its bloody fantastic.

Right next door to Zub, lies its evil twin, Propaganda aka, The Black Hole.You won’t ever find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. Its the first bar I've ever been to where every patron is given a pat down and a swipe with a metal detector upon entry. The cloak room is staffed by the most stern and hard faced ayi I've seen in China, the décor is dark with neon highlights, booths full of rich Chinese kids drinking Chivas and green tea upstairs, and a grimy dancefloor downstairs, replete with 'oh what did I do last night' podiums and a raised 'browsing' area. The clientèle is an eclectic mix of Koreans, Chinese, and, for some odd reason, the single most stereotypical representatives of each and every other nation you can think of. Seriously. From Kazakh's straight out of Borat, to an overly amorous French guy who constantly tried to start arguments about the All Blacks (but backed down in the face of the Rainbow Warrior, preferring to blame that on the Americans), to a drunk and surly Irishman who demanded to know whether I was of Catholic or Protestant stock, tall West African's in oversized basketball tshirts, seedy Russians with gold chains and mesh shirts, smooth Italians with greasy hair, and of course the obligatory compliment of obnoxious Americans. Then of course there was me, and though reports are inconclusive, I'm sure there were times when I was something less than a perfect ambassador for my own nation.

I somehow managed, perhaps on the basis of a misappraisal of my wealth, to snag a VIP membership to this particular establishment. What this meant was that I was able to enter for free, purchase two drinks for one most nights, and most importantly of all, on Wednesday, I was able to drink as much as I was capable of, between the hours of 10pm and 4am, for the princely sum of 50 RMB.

Just to put that into perspective, 50 RMB, at today's exchange rates is about:

$9.40 NZ

$8.23 AUS

$6.40 US

That's right. For less than $10, you could drink all of the cheap, watered down, nasty hangover inducing liquor that you could possibly force down. It was a terrible, terrible thing.

When in the Wu, our nights would end with a trip to the fluorescent nirvana of the local 7/11, where they had managed to improve upon the timeless classic of Chinese boazi (steamed buns) by replacing the traditional fillings with a small sausage. The non-question 'yo wiener ma?' was slurred many times to the poor store clerks, who were no doubt bemoaning their fate at being assigned to a 24 hour munchie stop nestled between popular expat bars.

When in Sanlitun however, there was no better place to end the night, than a stop at the A Hole.

My liver and brain welcome my return to Liaoyang.

* for those not in the know, Gan Bei literally means 'dry glass' and is a common Chinese toast that you will come to dread. Baiju, the national poison of choice, is explained here.

So it wasn't just me...

2007-03-07T17:57:00.000+08:00

It really did snow hard on the weekend. Even the internet says so.

The Touristing Begins

2007-03-06T20:28:00.000+08:00

Righto. This one's going to be picture heavy, as our intrepid hero heads all of 500m from where he was staying to take a look at Peking University, built on part of the old Summer Palace (of which we shall see more later).

But first....

It snowed like crazy here on Sunday (as previously mentioned) and classes were cancelled yesterday as lots of the kids weren't able to get back to Liaoyang from wherever it is they spent the Spring Festival.

I took the opportunity to trudge out and see what the snow had done to my beloved smelly little town. The word 'snow plough' is not known around here, so when it comes down hard its basically tunnels made by feet, followed by hordes of people armed with shovels and dustpans. They seem to get the job done eventually.

Anyway, Peking University (Bei Da to the locals) . Not much to say, its pretty, there's lots of birds (which is extremely rare in the parts of China I've been in) and lots of fat half feral cats to eat them. There's a big lake upon which people like to skate. And here it is:

Like I said, picture heavy.

Day One in the Big City

2007-03-04T19:42:00.000+08:00

But first, a brief update from Liaoyang:

Today is Shang Yuan, or the Lantern Festival, which marks the end of the the Spring Festival celebrations, and commemorates some time 2000 years ago during the Han Dynasty when a bunch of villagers tricked an angry god (the Jade Emperor) out of smiting them by lighting lanterns all about their village, thus convincing him that their town was already smoten and ablaze.

For the record their crime was to kill his favourite goose.

Anyway, on this day, according to tradition, everybody hangs red lanterns, there's fireworks (of course) and people eat various festival treats. I would be doing all of this, except that today, on the cusp of spring, Liaoyang decided to treat me to the biggest dump of snow I've seen since I've been here. I had the pleasure of trudging through it this morning to buy a text book for one of my classes.

Alright - back to Beijing.

After our disappointment at the hands of James Bond, we swung by this wonderfully named establishment:

which was, alas, overpriced in one aspect, and completely lacking in the other.

In the morning I headed out to a little cafe/bar called Lush, in Wudaokou (the Wu), the area where I was staying. Now this may be hard to understand for anybody that's never left the comfort of their homeland and lived in a north eastern Chinese town for a decent stretch, but walking into a western style cafe, looking around and seeing more foreigners than you've seen in the last 5 months combined, all in the same place, drinking coffee and eating eggs and bagels and bacon (BACON!) for breakfast is kind of an overwhelming experience. After checking to make sure that it was real, I grabbed a seat at a table, ordered the biggest fry-up they had on the menu, and settled in to generally be astounded. Just when I thought the culture shock was going to kill me, a song by Trinity Roots came on the stereo. So I'm sitting in a room in the middle of China, where there are virtually no Chinese people at all, eating sausages and hashbrowns, and listening to New Zealand Reggae. It was pretty surreal.

After that mind fracturing experience, I kind of pottered around all day, got started on what was to become a serious addiction to the TV series Arrested Development, and then headed out in the evening to a club called D22. Now, in a few years hence, when the Beijing Rock n' Roll scene has exploded and conquered every corner of the world, this will be the humble place where pilgrims will travel to gaze upon the origins of it all. In hushed tones it shall be whispered "I was there man" (even though the records will prove that there were in fact only 15 people there that night and none of them were this guy). This was pretty much the speech we got from the owner anyway (I may be exaggerating slightly for effect, see yesterday's disclaimer) who assured us that the moment of ascendancy was, at the outside, mere months away. In fact, that very night, a lazy Wednesday where they were showing A Praire Home Companion to about half a dozen bored punters, I was informed that no lesser icons than the best singer/songwriter in China, and the best drummer in China (arrived only that day from New York) were in residence and were going to be having a jam later on. But first we got to experience a Flamenco band from Yunnan (China's most south western province) where, by one of those weird cultural accidents, spanish guitar is hugely popular.

The most interesting part of the evening for me (aside from the owner's amusing, and possibly true, anecdotes about owning a bar in New York in the early 80's and seeing such greats as Sonic Youth and Bad Brains 'before they were big you know?') was becoming reacquainted with one of my favourite forms of visual artistic expression: Bathroom graffiti. And, of course, here's some of the highlights:

Beijing Beginnings

2007-03-03T21:31:00.000+08:00

Here begins a recounting of my month in Beijing, broken down hopefully into areas of some coherency (but likely as not). There'll be a bunch of these over the next week or so, probably more diaryesque than the normal fare so if that sounds boring (it may well be) avert your browser now. There may be some pretty pictures along the way though. And you wouldn't want to miss those.

I'm telling these tales mostly from memory, partly from some scrawlings I made, so any relation to actual events or persons is purely coincidental. I may also change tense wildly and without notice. You have been warned.

So let's get started shall we?

Actually hang on a sec, I have no idea where I put my notebook when I "unpacked".

Here it is.

So....

The day started on a slightly crappy note, learning that my friend (and previously, potential travel buddy) had had a fainting spell and had to be admitted to hospital. With that weighing on my mind I slung about 80% of my worldly goods about me and trudged out in the fresh snow to grab a taxi. I was able to negotiate the mandatory taxi conversation with minimal use of "bu ming bai" ("I have no idea what the hell you are talking about") but I'm pretty sure that when I told the guy that it was summer in New Zealand right now he either didn't understand or didn't believe me.

At the train station I bought a bus ticket to Beijing, and settled in to a grimy plastic chair to work out how I was going to know exactly when and where to board my bus. Fortunately a helpful business type fellow came and sat next to me, and with a combination of pointing, waving of tickets, and my one-word chinese utterings, we were able to establish that we were getting on the same bus, so all I had to do was follow his lead. He didn't speak a word of English, but I think the gist of the conversation he had at me was that he was in Liaoyang for a few days on business and basically couldn't wait to get the hell out of there and back to the civilised world of Beijing. His eyes certainly boggled when I told him I'd been in Liaoyang for four months and had never once been to Beijing (I think I told him that anyway). We then entered a rather amusing bout of back and forth where he tried to communicate some vital piece of information to me, with pointing, writing with his finger on my thigh, and repeating some word over and over again. I had no idea what he was talking about. Eventually I was able to work out that he was telling me to go to the bathroom before I got on the bus.

The thing about being a newbie in China (and I'm sure this is true in many places) is that you are basically an infant. Although you are toilet trained (though perhaps not in the particular regional variety) and you can walk, you can't understand what the grown-ups are talking about and when you want something you have to flail your arms around and yell until somebody works out what it is (ironically, its often a bottle). One of the great things about Chinese culture is that there will usually be some nervous student, bossy ayi, or bemused businessman willing to help you out. Sometimes this can be a pain in the ass (I once had a waiter escort me to the bathroom, wait at the door, and then walk me back to my table, just to make sure I didn't get lost/fall over/drown enroute) but it's often a lifesaver.

So I boarded the bus, armed with diet coke, jerky, bananas and rock n' roll; managed to get my stuff stowed; found my seat and got settled in for the journey. I briefly had a buddy in the neighbouring seat, who was fond of making phlegmy noises and snorting, but I guess he decided that he'd rather sit next to a real human being than the weird oversized infant with the beard. So I had two seats to myself which is a rare luxury in Chinese transport.

Especially at this time of year. A brief diversion: February is the month of the lunar new year (this year anyway) which was celebrated between from the 17th of Feb until last Saturday. During this time, and in the weeks before, literally hundreds of millions of Chinese are moving around the country, migrant workers traveling from the city factories to their remote regional homes; students heading back home for the holiday; and white collar city dwellers setting off on expensive package tours (that were booked up to a year in advance). On the highest volume day (today apparently), no less than 56.5 million people are expected to be traveling. That's like if one day the entire populations of the worlds five largest cities decided to play a game of international musical chairs (I have a dream...). Anyway, only marginally aware of this fact (I'd yet to watch the hourly broadcasts of the chaos on CCTV9, China's English language news channel) I was planning to swan into Beijing, take in the sights for a week or so, then head off on a leisurely tour of the region, wherever transport and accommodation was available. (Not to spoil the story, but that didn't happen.)

Back to the bus. I basically slept the first four hours of the journey (I warned you about the boring), waking every half an hour or so to catch glimpses of some Hong Kong action movie on the bus' TV. While I'm sure there was more than one movie screened in the four hours, they all seemed to contain the same triumvirate of Hero, Villian, and dewy eyed Herione, in various combinations of car chasing, chaste kissing or lengthy monologuing about their love/scheme/dewy eyes. One of the movies had an obviously Russian guy playing a CIA agent for comic relief. The view out of the grimy ice and mud caked window wasn't much improvement, a dull, flat, brown expanse, broken by the occasional black-smoke belching chimney or scatter of low brick dwellings and haystacks (though I've yet to see any livestock in China).

Eventually we stopped at a truckstop/roadhouse thing, identical to every other one in the entire world apart from the regional flavour of processed foods, the lettering on the coke cans, and the brand of cigarettes that all the men on the bus lit the second it ground to a halt. The fresh air was a blessing after the thick, warm air in the bus, perfumed with the scents of 50 or so people and their snack of choice. I snapped some photos of the surrounding landscape, and here are some of them for your 'wow that sure is a lot of brown' pleasure:

See? Pretty pictures.

Around 7 hours after we set out, I reached my destination, or at least the end of the bus route, somewhere in the absolutely-nowheresville outer suburbs of Beijing. A one hour taxi ride later, during which time I was reintroduced to the concept of 'rushhour', I was sitting in a restaurant with Mark and Paul (my gracious hosts) glad to be at the end of my journey. Except that after about 3 minutes of sitting I was told that we had to leave and get back into a taxi so we would make it to the cinema in time to catch the Beijing premier screening of the new 007 movie.

Which turned out to be sold out.

The Dog Returns

2007-03-02T18:42:00.000+08:00

Well, I'm back in Liaoyang. I caught a 'Sleeper' bus from Beijing today (that's a story for another time). It's as grey and dusty as I remember it being, though I had forgotten about that lingering smell of gasoline that pervades the air. The dull clap of fireworks is more or less constant (as expected) but on the upside they've festooned the town with coloured lights for New Years which is kind of pretty.

Various tales of Beijing will be told in due time for anyone who is interested (along with several billion photos)

For now I am going to feast on a dinner of Popcorn and Beer (contents of my fridge, beer excluded: Expired Cream cheese, Mustard, Gherkins, Hot Sauce).

In my absence this monstrosity seems to have materialised in my bedroom:

Current theories maintain that it is either a plywood wardrobe Tardis, or a piece of excess furniture that somebody didn't know what to do with and so decided that the laowai might like it even though he already has a closet that is too big for his five articles of clothing.

Last but not least:

I missed you baby. Now to get onto those 500 Windows Security updates that have accrued in my absence.

Ronald McDonald says: Explosives are Fun!

2007-01-29T23:02:00.000+08:00

Well the Chinese New Year is rapidly approaching (Feb 18th I believe) so the red lanterns are starting to assemble and the markets are rife with kitschy things on the theme of pig.

Even everybody's favorite meat sandwich peddling clown* is not immune to the charms of the festive season

Here's a few scenes from my recent trip to the Imperial Palace at Shenyang (basically a holiday home for the Qing Dynasty, which as you all know, puts it at about 400 years old)

Qingtastic

As usual, there's piles more. Get 'em here

So, despite the fact that the forces of fate seemed to be arraigned against me having a holiday, I'm off to Beijing tomorrow to see what I can make of it. Not sure where I'll go or what I'll do right now, but rest assured it will be blogged. oh yes.

*apologies if you in fact prefer some other meat sandwich peddling clown.

Stupid Seismic Shennanigans

2007-01-26T00:24:00.000+08:00

So apparently there's been ANOTHER freaking earthquake that has set the repair of China's internet back by like 3 more weeks.

I estimate my current speed of internetting to be about 15 kbps, which allows me to view about one page per hour. The rest of the time is spent hitting refresh and becoming enraged (and yes I'm on holiday and I have nothing to do so I sit and get angry at inanimate objects when I should be studying Chinese or something).

Without the internet I am reduced to reading the 2+2=5 Chinese news, and actually having to go outside to find out how cold it is. Its barbaric.

Fortunately, should my new plan remain unthwarted, I will shortly be leaving this country for a while, giving it time to get its shit sorted out in my absence.

Get to work brave ocean-going cable repair persons. And if the Eurasian Plate could just sit still for a few months that'd be great.

Winter Month Novelties

2007-01-22T18:20:00.000+08:00

Well I'm still kicking around Liaoyang trying not to go crazy or spend all of my money on DVDs of dubious origin. My winter travel plans have received a swift kick in the nuts from ol' lady fate, but more on that later.

It snowed pretty heavily yesterday, but that didn't stop me, Martin and Andreas from heading up to Shenyang for the day to enjoy such exotic treats as Subway and Starbucks coffee. The main highway was closed so we had to take the 'old highway' which, from where I was sitting (directly over the bus' rear axle), felt like a series of potholes strung together with a few handfuls of ruts, bumps, furrows, ditches, depressions and random protrusions.

Upon arriving in Shenyang, we got into a taxi with a driver who decided that the best way to overcome the language barrier was to communicate entirely in whistles. He did eventually ask (in Chinese) if we were American, and when I replied that I was from New Zealand, and my buddies in the back were German, he was moved to stop whistling, and start shouting 'HEIL SHITLER', over and over, complete with salute. Oh how we laughed.

Anyway, taking advantage of Shenyang's greater embrace of capitalism (a KFC on every corner!) I went camera shopping, and bought me one of these puppies which is pretty much the coolest toy I've ever owned.

It came with some image stitching software, here's some initial messing about:

My school

The Park where I do Tai Chi (I was playing with manual exposures on this so its a little dark)

You can click for embiggenment, but be warned that they're freakin huge (bout 5800x1600).

Anyway, I am getting out of Liaoyang shortly, I will hopefully update soon on the where and why, with pictures.

I shouldn't really laugh at this but...

2007-01-11T22:18:00.000+08:00

Here's a text message I received from one of my students yesterday, apparently concerned about whether they'd passed my class or not:

Hi ben .I feel my Orcal speak english examle can not get fourthy

The student didn't attach their name so I can't reply and tell them that their Orcal english got fourthy just fine.

This probably isn't a shining endorsement of my teaching abilities is it?

I'm a little concerned

2007-01-08T13:53:00.000+08:00

I'm planning on crossing a national border or two in the next month, and I'm a little worried about my passport. If you were a customs agent (especially one unaccustomed to looking at white faces, because, face it, we all pretty much look the same), would you believe that this guy (circa 2004, my 'dangerous fugitive' phase):

was one and the same as this dashing windswept individual?

better carry a razor and a pair of scissors with me just in case.

Scarier than Santa

2007-01-06T02:11:00.000+08:00

is how I would describe hurtling down a highway in a crowded bus on a night when the fog is so thick you can barely see the tail lights of the car ahead. Knowing the relaxed attitude that some Chinese have to concepts such as 'lanes' and 'working headlights', with the a pinch of the old 'x' factor (what's that up ahead? an overturned truck? a donkey cart? someone attempting an ill-advised u-turn?) you can see why I was kind of nervous.

Its times like this that I take comfort in the fact that in a country of 1.3 billion people, the odds of this particular bus being involved in a horrific accident are pretty slim.

My confidence wasn't exactly bolstered when I felt the bus go over a curb and a shopfront loomed out of the mist towards the front of the bus. The busdriver, who must drive this route dozens of times a day, had gotten lost. We were about 20 minutes out of our way. Fortunately, he had in his passengers a team of enthusiastic volunteers who were only to keen to help him with such tasks as:

- wild speculation as to where we might be (I think I saw a tree back there!)
- Using a sleeve to smear the condensation around on the inside of the windscreen
- Delivering detailed (though varying) lectures on precisely where the driver had gone wrong
- and of course, most importantly, taking turns at hurling abuse out the window at similarly lost and aimless vehicles.

All while the driver attempted a tricky and basically blind three point turn amongst about five other vehicles attempting the same.

Anyway, I made it home, alive and only an hour late, and had some Korean BBQ which kicked ass. All in all a good day.

Scary Santa

2007-01-05T13:25:00.000+08:00

Nuff said

New Years and Old Internets

2007-01-03T14:08:00.000+08:00

Welcome to 2007 everybody.

You may or may not know that an earthquake off the coast of Taiwan on Boxing day destroyed the cables that provide internet services for the 1.3 billion of us living round these parts, so for the last week or so I've had a wonderful trip down memory lane, internetting at speeds reminiscent of the mid 90s. I've come to the realisation that most webpages these days just aren't designed for viewing at a startling 1kb per second.

I'm assured that the finest network repair technicians in all of China have donned wetsuits and are working on the problem now, but it will be late January until they are back to speed, so I probably won't be putting much up here.

On the other hand, there probably won't be much to write about, I am officially payroll ballast until the start of March, as my classes have finished (as far as I'm aware anyway, getting a definitive answer on that issue has been difficult. For all I know I'm supposed to be teaching right now.) As it is snowy and freezing outside, I'm basically confined to quarters for the next few weeks, working on my Chinese and going crazy (probably at the same time).

Come the end of January I've got a week in Beijing, followed by a train to Hanoi and a few weeks there (including Vietnamese New Year - Tet, which should be fun), which I'm pretty damned pumped about. Expect plenty of photos and blather then.

xin nian kwai le!

Gifts

2006-12-26T21:08:00.000+08:00

First up here's a great blog post about christmas in China, from the 'far better China blog than mine' Adventures of the Humanaught

And now, on with our irregularly scheduled programming:

My first christmas in China was a cocktail of:

Beer and Fried Chicken with Anshan's American/Cameroonian community
Lasagne
Haggis
A wet bed

Yep, courtesy of Lucas, I am now the proud owner of a can of Scotland's finest tinned haggis:

Apparently Lucas swore to his mother that it would come in handy here in China, and couldn't face the thought of her seeing him unpack it when he returns to the US next week. We decided it should be passed on to some other lucky English Language Teacher when I leave. We have started a Chinese Canned Haggis gifting tradition.

Returning to my apartment later in the evening, I discovered a less welcome gift, courtesy of Chinese plumbing. A pipe in the ceiling of my apartment had burst, a pipe that just so happened to be directly above my bed. After stripping back my sodden sheets, I discovered that my lower most mattress, that sits on the plywood bed base, was reasonably dry.

Upon this mattress is writ: "Extra firm steel springs for strong and firm body support" Basically its a quilted slab of granite (it also says "Fashion Peality and Fashion Beauty" and, for no discernible reason, "email" and "www.com"). So my bed last night was that, a sleeping bag, and my living room floor (or as I like to call it now "the room that isn't full of water of unknown cleanliness and origin").

This tale has a happy epilogue: This morning I was awoken by workmen coming to inspect my pipes for imminent explosion (which was well timed because the entire left side of my torso had gone numb, half an hours more sleep on that mattress and I might've lost a limb). They insisted that I leave my keys with them so they could lock up afterwards, promising to leave them in the security office. When I returned from class that morning, under-dressed for the barrage of snow that had showed up a day late, the security office was locked and my keys nowhere to be found, so instead of lunch I got to stand around in the snow cursing under my breath and fighting to keep starvation, exhaustion and hypothermia at bay (not to mention a severe outbreak of melodrama).

So there you go folks, my christmas gift to you is a happy heaping helping of schadenfreude.

I wish you all a

2006-12-25T09:41:00.000+08:00

Observation: Getting up at 7am to work on Christmas day sucks. I much prefer the traditional gluttony and getting stuff.

Scenes from a Shenyang Shop

2006-12-18T17:52:00.000+08:00

Taken with my PDA, so apologies for the poor quality

PS: Not a pet store.

Santa, Me, and the Qing Dynasty

2006-12-17T22:28:00.000+08:00

Today I went to Shenyang, capital of Liaoning Province. Lonely Planet's write-up on the city begins "At first glance, Shenyang may be a hard city to love."

Sounds about right. 3.5 million people, none of whom seem to be in the traffic policing or town planning trades.

Anyway, Shenyang does have a pretty good Jiaozi (dumpling) restaurant, and a supermarket/wholesalers called 'Metro' that stocks western treats these eyes have not seen in many moons. Here is my swag:

Yes that is the original Transformers series in its entirety on DVD. Well spotted. Only $2 US as well.

And here's me, Santa, and a 400 year old Qing Dynasty Palace.

It was -16 degrees celsius today. Pretty nippy. I still haven't broken out my 'last resort' duck-down jacket yet. I'm saving that for when it gets cold.

LOOK AT ME! BUSY AS A BEE!

2006-12-12T21:53:00.000+08:00

When I signed on for this job, I was promised that I would have access to a kitchen, with microwave, stove etc. While these things were provided, the fact that they were all covered in about an inch of filth and dust meant that I haven't really taken advantage of them (except for one time I tried to make popcorn and the kernels BURST INTO FLAME. Those of you that know me well will have seen me make popcorn under the most extreme circumstances of intoxication and lack of sleep, and that has never ever happened before).

Anyway, 3 months in, I'm starting to get pretty sick of eating at the cafeteria and the same three restaurants day after day. Not to mention mishaps like accidentally ordering stomach, or pig liver like I did today (the perils of buying food from small blurry photographs). So yesterday I decided to roll up my sleeves and, arming myself thusly:

I made an attack on this:

Three hours later, I arrived at this:

(I have no idea what that cabinet thing on the right is for. The only english on it is a button saying 'ozone'. My current theory is that its a Doomsday Device of some sort)

He cleans! But will he cook? time will tell. A few more brushes with surprise organ meals and I'll be in there every damn day.

PS: If you don't get the title reference, you need to watch this

My favourite mistranslation so far

2006-12-10T19:24:00.000+08:00

On the vertical row machine at the gym:

BASE SUPPORT ANGLE OF BODILY PART, SELECT PROPER STATION.

USE UNCONFORMITY ANGLE TO EXERCISE, POSSIBLY RESULT IN BODILY DAMNIFY

I sure hope I selected the proper station.

Further musical and culinary adventures

2006-12-06T17:45:00.000+08:00

So yesterday I was informed that there was to be an English speaking competition at the school that evening, and that I was invited to attend (andohyeahcanyousingasongforustoo?that'dbegreatthanks). The topics the students had to choose from were "Success through Brain Power" (which all of about 3 students opted for) and "what happiness means to me". A lot of the kids seemed to have copied from the same book/website/whatever so most of them were pretty boring, a notable exception being when one girl ended her speech (“what happiness means to me”) with "If god calls on me to die for the motherland I will do so without hesitation".

okay...

Anyway, I was asked to do a song, and managed to belt out my trusty version of 'Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town' despite the school band's well meaning but woeful attempts to play along and to mic my acoustic guitar (resulting in some ear bleeding feedback, but not deterring the mic holder in the least, until I pretty much swatted him away).

All that out of the way (one of my students won), I was invited to dinner with the rest of the English Faculty, where I was asked "what kind of food do you like?" I gave my standard "whatever, I like to try new things" reply. A phrase to be used with caution in China.

Amongst the more standard delights of pig skin jelly and sheep's blood cubes, there was a plate of these guys:

Silkworm Pupae. Not bad. Pretty much just confirmed my theory that anything deep fried and appropriately spiced is edible. The taste was kind of peanuty, but not very distinctive. The shells were crunchy. I find it helps not to think about the words 'worm' or 'pupae' too much whilst eating.

The highlight of the dinner (deep fried insects aside) was the presence of the English Department's Party Secretary (I didn't realise we had one, but, you know, Communism) who was chastising everyone for not properly draining their beer glasses when toasts were made. Some rules need to be enforced. I of course didn't need reminding of this particular protocol.

Journey to Peter Burger

2006-12-01T12:28:00.000+08:00

You know sometimes, when you're sitting in your warm, comfortable apartment, talking to westerners via the internet, listening to western music (the latest Mint Chicks album. It's great. Buy it), you can almost forget that you're in China.

Then you decide that you need some lunch so you venture outside forgetting that its ten degrees below zero and that the three high schools across the road are getting out for lunch so there's a million kids on the street all shouting 'hello!' at you and a taxi driving on the footpath tries to kill you and some store down the road is letting off dynamite to celebrate something or other and when you get to the burger place for an ultimately unsatisfying but occasionally necessary fix of western stomach-filler some old lady tries to elbow in front of you in line (and you let her) and they're playing that one Richard Marx song at full volume on a loop so by the time you get your order you're praying that whoever it is he is right here waiting for would just show the hell up already and then on your way back to your apartment you almost slip on the cruddy black stuff that used to be snow that's built up on all the footpaths.

China - every day's a carnival.

What's in a Name? (Round Two)

2006-11-28T22:01:00.000+08:00

Have you ever thought about how funny it would be if you went to some far-flung country and found out that your name meant something rude/offensive/funny in the local lingo?

Well, today I discovered this:

You'd think that in three months, somebody might have told me. Till now, I've been using this one:

But I think I'm going to switch. Also my surname 'Shaw' sounds a bit like 'xiao' which means 'Young'. (Respect and status in China are mostly predicated on how old you are.)

So everytime I introduce myself, I'm basically saying I'm young and stupid.

If the shoe fits...

To Everybody in the Southern Hemisphere

2006-11-26T15:14:00.000+08:00

Enjoy your impending summer.

Also, in case any of you lie awake at night wondering "Why does Ben keep his hair so short?", here's your answer:

I'm embracing the crazy right now.

The drinking party. And the consequences thereof.

2006-11-20T19:25:00.000+08:00

Copious quantities of seafood (including these)

+

Many many glasses of baiju

+

A massage from a burly Chinese Man

=

I doubt I'll be welcome in that particular bathhouse again.

The not-so-great wall of Liaohua

2006-11-17T20:44:00.000+08:00

Well folks, I've managed to find a way back into blogger that runs at a reasonably usable speed (using about four different proxy type things in unison – I have no idea what any of it does, but seems to work.) So anyway, Internet police kicking in my front door and dragging me off to Internet jail notwithstanding, I should be able to post a bit more regularly now. Hopefully I can post the back-log of comments that I wasn't able to put up either.

And now, onto today's scheduled entertainment:

So I bought a bike a couple of weeks ago, as a handy means of getting round in Liaoyang, which is pretty flat and sprawling. Once you forget about such quaint western notions as 'helmet' 'lights' and 'road rules' its a nice way to see the city. For a change of scene, Paul, Andrew and I decided last weekend to head to Liao Hoa, which is a sort of village about 40 minutes (by bike) south of Liaoyang proper. So we set out, on a gentle incline into a slight, but persistent headwind. Me on my fancy schmancy mountain bike with such trimmings as gears and things, Paul and Andrew on the more traditional, fixed gear Chinese style workhorse. Suffice to say several kilometers and a bunch of gear changes later, I was glad I spent the extra 100 or so RMB.

We passed a small war cemetery on the way (not sure which war) which was fairly interesting, and the skeleton of a pretty huge stadium that they're building out in the fields. For what? I have no idea, there was a suggestion that some of the Football games in the Olympics might be played down the road in Shenyang, so maybe they'll be using it for training or some such. If so, Liaoyang's got some cleaning up to do.

Anyway, Liao Hoa.

There's a saying in China that you aren't truly a man until you have walked on the great wall. By this reckoning, I figure I'm now about 1/100th of man. Liao Hoa, in a typically Chinese attempt at getting the punters in, decided to build a sort of mini-Great Wall a couple of years back. Also in typical Chinese fashion, it seems that they sunk a whole lot of money into building the wall, furnishing it with a lovely asphalt car park, hedge maze, and crazy "Animals of the Zodiac Statuary Petting Zoo", then totally lost interest and/or ran out of cash. What this means is that you spend about half an hour wandering around the grounds of some Liao Hoa chemical concern, wondering just how much damage that smell is doing to your brain, and looking for one of about 5 nondescript and completely unsignposted roads that heads up the hill to the 'great' wall. Its kind of like stumbling upon an abandoned theme-park in the middle of a bunch of factories. In fact that's exactly what its like.

Enough chit-chat. Onto some images.

Residents of Liaoyang will tell you that Liao Hoa is very beautiful. It is a lot newer than most other places I've seen, but row upon row of identical apartment buildings, against a backdrop of smoke spewing chimneys, isn't exactly my idea of beautiful (those buildings in the foreground are under construction).

So here's the xiǎo cháng chéng (small great wall, if I may be allowed to invent Chinese names) in all its glory:

And speaking of things that are in all their glory:

Take that everybody who's never straddled a tank before.

There were some cool old A-frame houses up by the wall, but they were unoccupied and full to the rafters with rubbish. I'm assuming the owners moved out when the local government (or whoever built the wall) came to them and said “We're going to place these huge concrete dragons on your roofs. I hope you built sturdy”.

And, proving that I was not just being alarmist before, even large stone structures are not immune to the inexorable onslaught of the ladybug menace:

On the way out of town, we spotted this building, and its identical counter-part directly across the intersection. Impressive no? Oddly (and yet, increasingly unsurprisingly) both buildings are completely empty. I mean completely, bare concrete shells with a few supporting beams inside. Like so many things in this country, their origin and purpose is beyond the ken of a simple-minded Laowai like me.

Looks like wikipedia is down again in China too. The party giveth...

Tomorrow night: The great Chinese/American/New Zealander drinking party, at the best damn dumpling restaurant in town. The language barrier will add an interesting flavour to what promises to be a night of brain and liver damaging macho-posturing. There may be tales to tell.

Stay tuned Decadentwesterndogkateers.

The Steak Burns Ben's Stomach Lining

2006-11-12T21:38:00.000+08:00

This week I had my first ever case of violent food poisoning! hurrah!

Ironically, it was not Chinese, but Western (okay, a Chinese version thereof) that caused me to spend Tuesday night/Wednesday morning curled up in a ball wanting to die.

Having trounced Fred with my awesome bowling skills, I decided to order a victory steak at the 'European-style' restaurant, attached to the Bowling Alley. Though I was taken in by the kitschy decor and hot pink mood lighting, the first sign that all was not well, was the inclusion on the menu of these delicacies, under the heading "Gold Medal Arder Snack":

- Rice Lante Type Chicken Cartilage
- Fragrant Spicy Squid Fingernail
- The Spiced Salt Burns the Ducks Tongue
- The Bamboo Slip Lives Burns the Shrimp

Though I was curious to see exactly what a Squid's Fingernail looked like, I went for a traditional Rib-eye, with chips and salad. A safe option one would think, in a menu detailing various ways to torture ducks. But no, oooooohhhhh no.

What arrived on my plate resembled steak somewhat, and even had a fried egg on the side to act as a corroborating witness. One bite however made it clear that all was not well. The consistency was best described as 'squishy' and the taste was not particularly steakesque. I'm pretty sure it was deep fried too. I had two bites. Two bites too many.

I was home, in bed, about an hour later. I managed about half an hour of sweaty stomach grabbing 'sleep' before spending the next few hours in the bathroom, acquainting myself with some of the finer details of the tile grouting, while my digestive tract turned itself inside out.

Gee Ben! What a great story!

On a non-gastrointestinal note, the other day in class I was doing an exercise around designing a Tourist Brochure for China. One of the questions was "What are five things that every foreigner should remember to bring to China?"

One student (maybe 18 years old) gave me this answer:

CAPITAL
CAPITAL
CAPITAL
CAPITAL
CAPITAL

they grow up so quick...

Access woes and mileystones

2006-11-06T19:23:00.001+08:00

Well, these past few days have seen my 'access issues' become significantly worse, so my only way of getting into this blog at the moment is via a thing called Tor which seems to take like an hour to load and when it does it's all ugly and HTMLy but I can't be bothered waiting another hour for it to refresh so here you go. EDIT: well, that didn't work either, after trying about 5 times to post (taking about 5 minutes each time) I had to cut and paste this into an email, and post it that way. Which means no links or images. I need to sort out a better way of getting through/around the (apparently non-existent) Chinese Firewall. OR they could just lighten up a little - how bout it guys?

Anyway, as suggested by the title, here are some things that happened in the last few days:

- First time I've ever sat in a Chinese bar, drinking New Zealand Beer (Steinlager. I use the term 'beer' loosely), listening to Korean pop music while a bunch of American guys spoke to some Austrians in German.

- First day when the temperature never got above 0 degrees celsius (today, and I don't know what that is in farenheit, but its COLD okay?).

- First brief flutter of snow (yesterday).

- and I've been invited to my first ever Chinese drinking party, by the owner of a great little Dumpling restaurant that Lucas and Paul took me to. I'm not sure of the specifics, but as I understand it, there's a party, during which we sit around a table and drink (with a fair chance of cuban cigars). The chinese put a lot of stock in how much alcohol you can down, so hopefully my years of training will have me in good stead. My only worry is that the drinking party will involve Baiju, chinese rice wine, which you could strip paint with.

Finally, if you're a Steve Coogan fan (and you should be) you should track down 'Saxondale' and view it. Good laughs.

Apologies are in order...

2006-11-01T16:59:00.000+08:00

Wow, looks like I might have been wrong, wrong, wrong! About China blocking access to certain internet sites. There is no Chinese Firewall, its just that sometimes we have 'problems accessing [sites]'.

I'd hate to be involved in the dissemination of untruths, so I thought it best that I immediately fire up my browser, navigate to my favourite proxy site, wait the 5 minutes or so that it always seems to take to load a page, and write this blog entry, using blogger, which seems to be having some 'access problems' right now. (Though I would like to make it absolutely clear that these problems are not, in any way shape or form, due to the actions of the Chinese government.)

Hope that clears that up.

For more information on the completely non-existent 'Great Firewall of China' you may read this slanderous article in the 'always accessible' Wikipedia and this one from those imperialist scoundrels at the BBC.

Actually I can only assume that last one is about the Great Firewall, as the BBC website seems to be suffering from some 'Access Problems'.

A picture is worth blah blah blah

2006-10-31T20:41:00.000+08:00

And this one pretty much sums up living in a Chinese city:

Here's some other fun bits around Dalian (whence I returned last weekend, laden down with DVDs of dubious origin, including, THIS ONE).

This, I was always told, was exactly what a gentleman does NOT do:

Yes, its an advertisement for Coca-Cola, in a place called Victory Square. Capitalism, Commmunism, Irony, LOL, etc.

And this store, I'm sorry to point out, did not in fact sell the hides of giant bears (nor was it a gay man's fetish-wear store).

Did I mention that in China you can buy a grapefruit the size of your head? Well you can.

Cool huh?

Anshan. Man.

2006-10-30T20:58:00.000+08:00

Well the Chinese in their infinite whatsit have seen fit to block Blogger again for the moment. So if you're in China, you're not reading this. And if you are - YOU'RE BREAKING THE LAW. Naughty.

Anyways, here's some stuff from when I went to Anshan last week (this'll be another photoriffic post).

Anshan, as indicated earlier, is the next town down the line, just south of Liaoyang. Half an hour on the number 17 bus (I think) and then another 20 on a mini-bus and, chance encounters with other vehicles at high velocity notwithstanding, you're there.

First impression: Another grubby Chinese city really. Bigger than Liaoyang, lots more tall buildings, smog, all that good stuff.

These happy characters were my guides for the day, Raphael (left) and Frank (not left)

So we did a bit of shopping in downtown Anshan, I bought my winter coat, for which many ducks gave their lives (as I understand the down collection process anyway. Unless they're shorn and released, but I've never seen a naked duck. Have you?) Their sacrifice will be appreciated come winter I'm sure.

Then it was off to the park, to see such wonders as the bendy trees:

Where Raphael channeled his namesake

There was also a derelict factory that I thought was pretty cool

And a temple. I think most Chinese are pretty jaded on the temple thing so we didn't go inside (admission was pretty pricey too) but I peeked in the gates:

I wasn't aware that Buddhism involved cape wearing. Disturbingly, I was also told that day that Buddhists don't eat chilli or garlic either, as these 'arouse the senses'. Weirdos.

I also managed to uncover details of a shadowy and frightening plot to overthrow the prevailing world order with a race of cloned dinosaurs. Like in that movie - 'Cocoon'.

I suspect the Pepsi corporation is somehow involved (aren't they always?) due to the presence of a Pepsi-cola-chapel on site.

Crappy gags aside, upon returning to the city proper, I happened to spy this guy. Apparently these types are increasingly common as the weather gets colder, coming into town to sell their wares on the street. I don't know what animals these skins came off, but yellow spotted hide being sold by dodgy guy on the street says 'endangered' to me.

So that was Anshan. Me and Frank give it one thumbs up each.

You can't spell Harmonia axyridis without 'Harm'

2006-10-23T21:57:00.000+08:00

Music: Defiance, Ohio - I Don't Want Solidarity if it Means Holding Hands With You
Temperature: Dropping

Well, I figured I've got enough random images floating around at the moment to justify a post. So here goes:

In continuing my coverage of the ongoing ladybug menace, it appears that they have found a way into my home, no-doubt by chewing through the concrete walls.

Observe the damage the they inflicted upon a nearby incinerator (one of the ladybug's natural enemies), tearing a hole in the brick wall to get at their metallic foe within:

Okay. Enough of that.

Here's some monks shopping:

Here's something that's funny if you're nine, or me:

And this, my Chinese Room (apologies to John Searle):

For anyone that actually knows Chinese, you'll notice that what's up there is a mish-mash of pinyin and "Ben's way of spelling Chinese words kind of phonetically"

Here's some guys looking at spring onions in the local apartment complex:

and, to round out this most magnificent of blog entries, a chicken, taunting some other chickens with its freedom:

Off to Anshan tomorrow. Should be something interesting to tell of/look at there.

53 years ago today, if Wikipedia is to be believed, the smurfs had their debut in Belgium. Happy Birthday guys!

Life is a highway...

2006-10-19T22:14:00.000+08:00

If anybody thought I was exaggerating about how absolutely insane the traffic conditions are here in China, I encourage you to take a look at this site. It captures the essence of the local extreme sport (the Chinese call it 'driving') pretty well.

So it turns out...

2006-10-18T15:30:00.000+08:00

This is a true story.

This morning I was in the park, practising Tai Chi and enjoying the last of the sunshine before I'm plunged into the bitter winter that I'm told Liaoyang has in store for me.

So anyway, there I was, doing my best imitation of a spastic monkey attempting Tai Chi, listening to a woman playing a traditional flute in a nearby pagoda and watching autumn leaves swirling around a square full of retirees playing chess and arguing. It was a beautiful, serene moment.

Then suddenly, it struck me:

Holy Shit.
I'm in China.

Bits and Pieces

2006-10-17T21:45:00.000+08:00

Music: Louis Jordan - (I'll be Glad When You're Dead) You Rascal You
Desperate Optimism: Unwavering

Note that this post contains a photograph of a dead animal. (Not one that I ate.) Also, if you are colour-blind, you may not get the joke at the end, but don't worry, it's not particularly funny anyway.

Ni Hao

Nothing in particular to talk about tonight, but a few ramblings just to keep me in the blogging mood.

First off, my pal Lucas (a Kansian/Kansasite/Kansasian?)went to the bustling metropolis of Shenyang on Sunday, and returned with this little block of gold for me:

He didn't even realise that it was New Zealand Cheese. Though he did point out that a brand called 'Mainland' doesn't really call to mind a small island nation.

The air in Liaoyang at the moment is absolutely teeming with that most endearing of flying six legged things - the ladybug. Now you might think that sounds wonderful, Ladybugs everywhere?!? What a beautiful sight! Sure beats those foot long dragon flies we had last month!

But you would be wrong. It turns out that any insect, from blowfly to locust to the humble ladybug is kind of annoying when you're pulling them out of your hair, clothes and teeth every thirty seconds. Also, despite their cute and notoriously effiminate appearance, those little buggers are merciless in swarms, as illustrated by this absolutely unaltered image:

Scary Stuff.

Last of all in this wonderfully enlightening post - the single craziest thing about China that I have discovered so far. I can deal with the skateboarding secret agent chimp, their complete lack of road rules no longer surprises me, and I'm even coming to terms with the fact that apparently there will be no Spring next year. But this is going to far. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a ripe (and rather tasty) ORANGE.

Through the freaking looking glass.

Good News and Significantly Worse News in the PRC

2006-10-12T19:12:00.000+08:00

Music: Lifetime - Irony is for Suckers
Blood Cheese levels: Satisfactory (I had pizza for dinner)

After spending hours reading a whole-buttload of stuff about Proxys and Tor networks and other really really uninteresting internet clap-trap, the Chinese government went ahead and unblocked access to wikipedia. I feel like a part of my brain has been restored to me. Sure its massively inaccurate and prone to crippling attacks, (wikipedia, not my brain. Really.) but I'm stoked to have finally regained the ability to find out what happened on March 1st 1974 at a moments notice.

So, good on ya Wikipedia for not caving to Chinese demands to censor the content (about that pesky thing that didn't happen in that square that one time, and that charming little country in the south-west that totally joined and remains part of the people's republic completely of its own accord and in total harmony.)

And good on ya China for unclenching the sphincter of one-party bureaucracy for long enough to let loose a small toot of freedom.

Of course, nothing says "Don't think we're going soft and becoming freedom of expression loving pansies" better than some good old fashioned repression. And there's nobody they like oppressing more than Tibet.

Way to go China.

Administrative Stuff

2006-10-09T18:26:00.000+08:00

Heyo.

I've decided that, since this blog is available openly on the dirty ol' internet, and apparently is being read from as far afield as Venezuela (hola!) I'm going to change the access to my flickr stuff somewhat.

All of the China stuff is still available to one an all, but the stuff including family, friends and other innocent/guilty parties, will now only be accessible to those marked as 'friends' on my flickr account.

So if you're not on my friends list, and you want to see the photos (remember that one time you got all drunk and passed out on the couch and drooled all over yourself?) then you'll need to sign up to flickr (free and easy)and then send me a friend request. If it comes with a promise of free snacks or a witty limerick, I will accept. Shouldn't be too much hassle.

laters.

My Big Fat Chinese Wedding

2006-10-08T18:13:00.000+08:00

This time of year in China is known as 'golden month'. It's a fortuitous time to get married, have a baby, register your car etc. Combined with the fact that, according to the lunar calender, there will be NO SPRING THIS YEAR (???!???), lot's of people are getting married in Liaoyang at the moment (this partially explains the twice daily barrage of fireworks). Anyway, a friend of my boss got married yesterday, and my boss (Betty) asked her if it'd be okay if I came along, to see what a Chinese wedding was like. I wasn't exactly stoked about having to get up at 7am on a Saturday morning (who gets married before noon?) but if your boss has promised a foreigner for a wedding, I guess you better provide the foreigner.

So there I am, 9.30 in the freakin morning, beer coming at me left and right, with the cast of The Little Mermaid sitting on a plate in front of me (crab, prawns, oysters, scallops, whole fish, the works). To make matters worse, in a moment of bleary semi-clarity, I realised we are at least three hours from the sea here, and I've yet to see a single truck with anything that looked like refridgeration. I'm not by nature a big breakfaster (unless I have a hangover to service), and despite my love of the stuff, I don't tend to drink beer before the clock strikes noon.

Well, you're in China now.

The amount of food (as with any Chinese gathering) was staggering, and I was expected to try everything. Also, as the sole whitey in the room, I was the prime target for toasts with a bunch of people I've never met, including (but by no means limited to): the bride, the groom, the bride's father, the president of the college, the MC/Celebrant guy, and a whole host of others.

The ceremony itself was pretty informal, in western terms they pretty much just cut to the reception. Everyone was seated at tables, the bride and groom came in, a celebrant guy who was wearing a vegas-style red shirt and white suit, said a bunch of stuff, made some jokes (or so I gather) and led the assembly in a rousing chorus of 'If you're happy and you know it' (I'm not kidding). Then that was it, bingo, they're married. Without a peep out of either of them. You couldn't hear what was going on anyway most of the time, due to the accompanying explosions on the street outside.

So I ate a whole lot of food (I declined on the chicken heads, another thing I won't touch till after 12 o'clock/beers), drank a fair bit, shook a lot of hands, then because there was 3 more weddings in the same restaurant that day, they kicked us all out, maybe 90 minutes after we arrived.

So we all went and played Ping-Pong.

True story.

Mid-Autum Mooncake Madness

2006-10-07T19:57:00.000+08:00

Music: Against Me! - You look like I need a drink
Drinking: 2002 Great Wall Cabernet. From the bottle: The Great Wall Golden Packing high-grade dry red wine is made from the international famous Cabernat which cultivated by the famous producing Huaizhuo basin in China,adopting the modem machines, expuisite technology of oak brewing. It's a kind of fresh wine. The product shows purple,red clear body, harmonize and cheerful fruit and oak fragrance, has a sens of soft. Typical.

Yesterday was mid-autumn day, its basically a holiday where everyone gets together with family etc, eats mooncake, and girds their loins for the oncoming winter I suppose. This is mooncake by the way, they retail for anywhere from 1 yuan each, to about 500 RMB for a box of six (half a months wages for most people). I got these cheap cause it was the last day. They had a kind of nutty filling, others have fruit, jelly, whatever.

Perky (one of the Chinese English teachers) invited me to take a boat ride down the moat/canal thing, to the White tower and surrounds. I envisioned a sedate plod down river in a traditional chinese barge thing. Oh ho ho ho no. That's for chumps, like these guys we almost capsized in our wake:

We did the journey in a roar of engines, a blast of gasoline smoke, and a spray of dubious canal water (dear god don't get it in your mouth)

I mentioned this white tower earlier, mostly in reference to the tacky tourist temple built next to it. In fact, I was wrong, the temple was pretty cool. Sure its brand new, but its a replacement for the original one that burned down a century or so ago, and its a functional buddhist hang-out as well as a tourist trap.

Here's the main hall (sky palace or somesuch):

Inside of which, is this jovial fella, the largest wooden buddha in the world (for the time being, they're building a bigger one somewhere else in China). There's a monk down the bottom for reference, but he's about 17m tall (not including the base). The swastika is the buddhist symbol for fortune I think, I don't recall any western buddhists (or the dalai lhama for that matter) sporting them though.

Anyway, the place had more buddha's, saints, kings, temples and statues than you could shake an incense stick at (providing you were prepared to fork out 10 yuan per stick).

Here's some highlights:

Dude's totally throwin up the goats:

"88 two fat buddha's"

Wacky diorama thing

Here be Devils!

As per usual, there's plenty more here

So, after being suitably impressed with how non-commercial and actually quite stunning the temple complex was, we went over to the White tower itself, I was looking forward to seeing this most, being over 700 years old an all, the only bit of the China I've seen so far wasn't built in the last 50 years. And here it is:

Very impressive. Should you feel the urge to turn yourself 180 degrees though, you will see:

DIGIMON. Obviously the buddhistist thing ever in the whole world. Just to drive the point home, in the background of this photo, is a twelfth century wonder of architecture and devotion, in the foreground, well:

And of course:

I didn't take any pictures of the dusty, run down amusement park that was behind the temple, but suffice to say, there was a stand where you could have your toddler photographed holding a replica pistol.

The mantra around these parts is definitely 'out with the old, in with the new', even if the new happens to be a bunch of poorly made Disney knock-offs and the old happens to be a world heritage site. It's kind of sad really, but I suppose the kitschy glittery stuff gets the Chinese punters in, and that provides the funds to keep the old stuff from falling down.

Anyway, definitely worth a look if you ever find yourself up Liaoyang ways.

Heading home, the moon was huge, red and perfectly full. It was almost as though they'd decided that boring old white crater face wasn't up to the task of celebrating mid-autumn day, so they had him replaced with a newer, better model.

Dalian Dalliance

2006-10-05T14:27:00.000+08:00

Music: Takeshi Terauchi & The Bunnys - Danube Wave Waltz (if Japanese surf-guitar bands covering the classics is your kind of thing, you should check this out)
Air Quality in Liaoning today: Dusty, with an alluring hint of gasoline.

So, at the moment it is National Day Holiday in China. National Day holiday, naturally, lasts a week, and incorporates the mid-autumn festival, which is all about mooncakes and whatnot.

I spent last weekend in Dalian, its the big touristy part of Liaoning Province, about 4 hours by bus. There's a LOT of money in Dalian, (amongst the usual grinding poverty) as illustrated by the million dollar seaside apartments, the flashy western stores, and the brand new full size Bavarian Castle:

The first night in town was okay, after some great Indian food (Dalian's draw is pretty international) we went to an Irish pub, drank expensive guinness (45 RMB a pint, about what you're average Chinese person makes in a day) and talked to a few of the resident drunken old Irish guys (I think they import them with the Guinness and those barrels and flags that all Irish pubs have) but they were more interested in the Chinese ladies of negotiable affection so I retreated early.

Determined not to leave town without meeting some amiable english speakers who shared my favoured vices of booze and music, I tried again on Saturday, heading to a bar called 'noahs'. Not a bad place, if Tom and Jerry cartoons and live accordian are your thing. What the bar did have however, was that most reliable of good times, CANADIANS. Many Gan Bai's of Japanese beer later, I staggered down to a place called JDs (the bar that most westerners will tell you to steer clear of) with a Canadian guy called Rob, and a mad Swedish Giant who's name I don't recall. JD's is your classic dingy nightclub, full of smoke, sweat, sticky floors, overpriced watery drinks and, in this case anyways, Russians, Chinese, Koreans and a handful of other foreigners. The music was okay, the Borboun and Sprites (blame the Canadian)were going down fine, and I woke up in the morning in the correct bed, in the correct hotel, with all of my belongings and organs, as well as a bunch of contacts for next time I head to the city. So all in all, mission accomplished.

The rest of the time was spent wandering the town, eating things on sticks, looking at various monumenty things and going to the beach. So here's a bunch of photos. If you simply can't get enough, there's a whole lot more here.

Dalian has been occupied by both the Russians and the Japanese in the past, so some of the architecture deviates from the patented Chinese drabness. Anyway, nothing says 'clash of old and new, socialism and capitalism' than this:

I preferred to stick to eating the street food, which was tasty and cheap, even if a little gigeresque:

So this is a typical Dalian skyline:

This is typical Dalian traffic:

This is one of the bits you're not supposed to look at:

This is something that leads me to believe I may have been missing something about the whole toilet experience:

And, continuing on that theme, using a urinal in China is apparently comparable to the discovery of writing, the wheel, and placing a man on the moon:

By the way, in China, as in most of the world, taking out your camera in a crowded public restroom is going to win you a few odd looks.

Here I am chillaxing in Zhongshan Square (I think)

And here's me hanging with Adam and Eve, who are according to the Chinese, 9 foot tall overweight Martians, with goofy grins and, in Adams case, a golden wang.

This is getting really long now, so I'll leave you with one of Dalian's Icons, the big sphere of something or ratherness.

I'd like to think that if you committed some particularly dastardly crime in China (like promoting democracy) you'd be imprisoned in here for a 1000 years.

Of course, in reality, they just execute you and sell your organs.

Donkey Dumplings

2006-10-04T22:15:00.000+08:00

Music: Dillinger Four - The Father, the Son, and the Homosexual Single Parent.
Belly: Full of dumplings and beer

Okay, no Dalian update yet, but I needed to report an important milestone.

Tonight, I ate this happy fella (in dumpling form):

He was actually pretty damn tasty too.

What this means is that I'm only five animals away from completing my 100 acre wood scorecard!

I think I get a free sub or something when I'm done.

Caffeine is the opiate of the masses

2006-10-03T22:49:00.000+08:00

ni hao.

Back from Dalian, non-mummified and with all organs intact (some mild liver embalming may have occurred, more on that later). I'll give a proper rundown of events tomorrow, but for now I present you with this:

I count at least three levels of wackiness in that. I love this country.

Singing for my Supper

2006-09-28T21:40:00.000+08:00

Music: Bandits of the Acoustic Revolution - They provide the paint for the picture perfect masterpiece that you will paint on the insides of your eyelids (saying the title takes almost as long as the song)
Watching: Shameless - Series 1 (thankyou internet)

So tonight I went to a big official dinner thing, at Liaoyang's fanciest hotel, with
the mayor and all the local party elite in attendance. An occasion like this of course requires top notch entertainment, which was provided by the following:

Traditional Chinese Fan Dancers

Traditional Chinese Opera Singers

Not-so-traditional Chinese pop singers

And this ass:

Yep, I was told that I must prepare a song for this little swaree, and that all of the other foreigners there would also be doing some sort of performance. Turns out, all the other foreigners had the sense to say hellz no, so following the synth-beats, garish costumes, and fancy lighting displays of the Chinese performers, you got one kiwi, in a bad tie, singing a barely recognisable rendition of Tutira Mai Nga Iwi (my 'go to' kiwi song for China), acapella, to a room full of local Communist Party Bigwigs, Russian chemical magnates, weird Austrians, bemused Koreans and Japanese, and a handful of American's, all of whom are evidently better at saying 'no' than I am.

Anyway, the food was good, the toasts (with brandy) plentiful and I now have about 9 business cards (mostly in Chinese) including that of the ASSISTANT MAYOR. That's right. Take that everybody who's never had the personal mobile phone number of a mid-ranking party official of a small northern Chinese regional city.

Met a smattering of other foreigners, the Austrians are weird looking, but could be interesting, they look like they enjoy the odd dram. One guy had the most stellar 1980's porno mustache I've ever seen, mad as a bag of cats too, judging by our brief conversation.

I'm off to Dalian tomorrow, the so called “Hong Kong of the North”. Should be a fun few days even though I think we're getting shafted on accomodation costs (Fred, who I may or may not have mentioned previously, he's an american) arranged it all, so I'm just going with the flow on this first excursion out of Liaoyang.

Anyway, I'll be sure to get lots of pics, apparently the place has plenty of bars (I've even heard rumours of the existence of a bar that sells actual authentic Guinness Draft!), Russian Hookers for all, and impressive Communist thingamabobs. There's a beach of sorts too, but I've been told not to get my hopes up about it.

All comments in old-fashioned telegram style please STOP

Tai Ji or not Tai Ji

2006-09-26T13:54:00.000+08:00

So much for my daily update schedule. The network switch in our building died, and somebody forgot to plug me back in when they replaced it. I suspected this about a week ago, and all I had to do to get it fixed was endure this process about twenty times:

Helpful student: I will look at your computer for you!
Me: Okay, but its not my computer, the network cable is unplugged, and seeing as it is plugged in at my end...
Helpful student: Okay! I will look at your computer.
Me: Whatever
Helpful student: I cannot find the problem
Me: See, as I was explaining, if you'll show me where the other end of this network cable leads, I can probably just...
Helpful student: I will ask (name of another helpful student) to fix! He will come tomorrow
Me: okay, but if you'll just show me where the other end of this network cable is so that I can check and see if...
Helpful student: okay! See you tomorrow!

Eventually I got adventurous enough to start opening cabinets in my building at random, found the switch, found my cable dangling folornly and unplugged, replugged it and I'M BACK.

Anywhoo.

In my continued quest to provide the Chinese with amusing western buffonery to guffaw at, I have started learning Taiji quan (that's Tai Chi to you foreign devils) at a park near my school. This has meant I've spent around 10 hours this week, under the noon-day sun, rediscovering my complete lack of balance and co-ordination, while a small but stern Chinese man, (with crazy manga hair), imparts unto me the collective wisdom of a thousand years of tradition and mastery of this art. Of course, the imparting is all done in Chinese, so all I know is it has to do with thighs and hands and pointing at your nose a lot. 10 hours in, I have almost managed to competently perform such tasks as 'walking' and 'holding an invisible pot'. I think this qualifies me for the lowest rank in taiji - 'retarded mime'. Wang Shir-Fu (Master Wang) actually asked my name the other day, I guess that's progress.

Anyway, turns out “laowai using a public park to trample upon our ancient and cherished traditions with his inept bumbling” is a reasonably popular form of entertainment amongst Chinese people of retirement age, so every time I'm there, a crowd of onlookers gathers (usually about 10 cms from my face) to gawk and point. Apparently, (I was only told a day or two later) on one occasion, these gawkers included the mayor of Liaoyang and his media entourage, who apparently thought that my antics were worthy of that spot at the end of the news where they usually show a water-skiing squirrel or something.

Take that everybody who's never appeared on a regional Chinese television station.

In other news, I still seem to be waking up every morning and finding myself in China, a point that is usually driven home by the fact that its 5.30 am and there's an artillery barrage going on outside my window. It's 'golden month' at the moment, a popular time for weddings and amongst those who deal in pyrotechnics.

Saw a policeman and a guy having a tussle over a bicycle today, it was kind of comical (especially if you imagined silent movie music in the background, which I recommend you always, always do) I didn't hang around to see how it played out, but as I was walking by a car full of police showed up and joined the fray. I'm sure they had a frank and amicable discussion, uncovered the misunderstanding at the heart of the issue, all had a good laugh, and went their seperate ways in good spirits. The police all had batons, so I assume they were organising a relay of some sort, and wanted the bike guy to participate.

What a lot of writing.

Duck and Cover

2006-09-18T22:20:00.000+08:00

Music: Against Me! - Those Anarcho-Punks are Mysterious! (Live in London)
Astrological Alignment: Fortuitous. I assume.

Well, for the last half an hour, I've been serenaded by the dulcet tones of 5 or 6 air raid sirens of various pitch at a volume sufficient to blanket the whole city in a symphony of wooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooohhhhhs.

I went outside to see if the apocalypse was nigh, but everyone seemed to be getting on with business as usual. I guess I can safely assume that hordes of North Koreans aren't swarming over the border towards us, and that those Imperialist American pigs haven't dropped the ol H-Bomb on Beijing yet.

I'm sure it was just a drill of sorts to keep the people ready for the aforementioned eventualities. Grab yer pitchforks an' all that.

I'm now a member and the official freakshow of the 'Blue Swallow' gymnasium (keep your smutty jokes to yourselves) where the locals can now be treated to such sights as:

"Watch the big white guy sweat!" (the chinese aren't really sweaters)
"Watch the big white guy gasping for breath!"
"Steal the treadmill that the big white guy was about to use!"
"Sit on a weight-bench and stare at the big white guy throughout his entire weight routine!"
"Listen to the big white guy cursing under his breath in that craaaaaazy language of his!"

And that old Chinese favourite:

Say "Hello!" to the big white guy, then collapse in fits of laughter when he replies.

Good times. No pictures today because I'm lazy.

All comments to include smutty jokes.

What's in a name?

2006-09-17T20:29:00.000+08:00

Music: The Arrogant Sons of Bitches - "Yeah I Don't Know What Its Like to Be Around a Bunch of Hipsters"
KMs walked today: Approx 10
Why: I got lost. Sort of.

Okay, so in China, everybody has an English name (anybody who is learning or speaking English anyway). They get to pick these names for themselves, and some of them seem to change them pretty frequently (often the kids will have no idea who you are talking about when you refer to one of their classmates by their English name).

Anyway, some of the names they pick are pretty damn funny. My job description here includes familiarising the students with 'Western customs and cultures'. I'm not sure if this extends to taking a guy aside and telling him: "You probably don't want to walk into a board-room in a western country and introduce yourself as 'Sparkler'".

So, for your 'laughing at people because they are different' pleasure, here are some of the standout names of my students.

Firstly, some of the teachers' names:

Perky (my main guide around Liaoyang so far, and helper of buying things person)
Raphael (who as far as I know, neither paints, nor weilds a bo-staff and purple eye mask)

The food groups:

Sugar
Cherry
Apple
Lemon
Tulip (I'm sure you could eat one if you had too)
Chocolate
Banana
Candy
Macaroon (seriously)

The old-fashioned:

Doris
Flora
Arlene

And the just plain weird:

Prince (formerly 'King' apparently)
Yo-yo
Lotus
Sparkler (see above)
Maybo
Wensen (Winston maybe? That's how he spells it anyway)
Essens
Lucky

My friend Fred (the only other foreign teacher here that I'm aware of)claims that he once had a student called 'Shits'.

I got lost today because I went right here thinking it would be a 'shortcut' when I should've just gone straight.

And finally, here's an old motorcycle that I photographed today.

Comments including the use of the letter 'R' will be rejected. Um, ejected.

Chinese Beer is People!

2006-09-16T14:03:00.000+08:00

It is also very, very, cheap.

That's about 60c (NZ) for a 600ml bottle.

The danger of course, is this:

The streets of Liaoyang

2006-09-15T11:34:00.000+08:00

Weather: Smoggy and Muggy. (Smuggy)
Music: This Bike is a Pipe Bomb - Imperfection

Okay, so here's a photo-heavy one, of the merry little metropolis that is Liaoyang City.

Where the hell is Liaoyang City? Good question. Hereabouts (click for a more eyeball friendly version):

First, some fun facts:

Liaoyang is one of the oldest inhabited cities in China (well over a 1000 years, but you'd have to dig through a few layers of cement to find anything older than 1950). Japan and Russia have both stomped through here at various points, usually on their way to, or back from, killing each other for some reason or other. The population is about 700,000 in the urban bits, about 1.8 million if you include the outlying areas. Its about 1 hour by plane to Beijing. Number one question people will ask you, as a foreigner, in Liaoyang: "Why would you come here?!?"

If Liaoyang is famous for anything (which it isn't) it would be this, the White Pagoda. It's a hair shy of 750 years old I think (built during the Yuan Dynasty if someone wants to look it up).

Still, the local government felt that this ancient wonder could do with a bit of 'buddhisting up' so about six years ago, they built this kitschy temple-o-rama next door:

The bottom floor is where you pay your 50 yuan entrance fee (probably more than a tenth of most people's weekly earnings), and the whole facility is manned by a staff of professional and courteous monks, who have managed to 'streamline' the years of training, dedication and mental and spiritual effort of buddhism into a four-week course, after which they are qualified to monk to their hearts content between the hours of 8am and 5pm, six days a week. Apparently they have the largest wooden buddha in China too.

To complete the tourist trap, they have a big gate thing, with lions.

I did find this cool little sculpture in a bush around the corner though.

On to the streets:

Here you will find many wonderful goods and services, such as the friendly SIM card street dealers who you have to wade through to get to the mall

Despite being a 'communist' country, its pretty much all shopping and signage round Liaoyang town, though there is the occassional throwback:

You're far more likely to see stuff like this:

And if this aint capitalism, I don't know what is:

What would Mao think?

Almost forgot: Liaoyang has a moat! Take that not-moat-having cities of the world!

NB: Comments will only be accepted if they incorporate the word 'Contumacious'

Diamond 007, the Skateboarding Chimp

2006-09-14T21:10:00.000+08:00

Mood: Bloggeriffic
Music: Paint It Black - "This song is short because its not political"

BAM! First post of my sparkly new blog thing. Come on in, make yourself comfy. Its a little sparse at the moment, but I'll bring the full strength of my rudimentary HTML skills to bear on it shortly and see if I can't spruce it up a little.

So the plan is: Keep this thing updated reasonably regularly with lots of photos (so to those of you on dial-up - sucks to be you), thoughts of the day, rants on this and that, and whatever else I feel I might like to post at the time. Hopefully its mildly interesting, to me if nobody else.

Anyway, for the first week or so I'll hopefully be updating daily, to clear out the backlog of oddness and oriental mystery that has been my first three weeks here in China. On that note, I figure there's no better place to start than right here:

That's a movie poster on a storefront down the road from me (where they also have a Sega Megadrive for sale, in the original box, unopened). I feel it neatly encapsulates the blend of familiarity and jarring dissonance that is China.

I will own a copy of this movie before I leave.

That's all for now. Trying to keep it short and snappy.

All comments in Haiku form please.