Changchun to Chengdu

Tonal marks. Turning answers into questions. Chinese sentence structure. All of these things are running through my head as I’m completing my final exam for my Introductory Spoken Mandarin Class at Jilin University in Changchun. But, eventually, it’s over, and, as we would find out later at our Graduation Ceremony, we have all passed! But, as bad as it may seem, we had other fish to fry that afternoon—before our Graduation Banquet that night, we would be rushing off to the edge of Changchun to go to the largest market in the city to shop for gifts, souvenirs, and whatever else might catch our fancy!

Fr. Nowel had a young Chinese friend of his, Allen, visiting him in Changchun for the week, so he and his girlfriend helped us to shop—I cannot recommend enough taking someone who speaks the language with you when you shop in any market! Not only is their help invaluable for haggling, but they are also much more able to tell the real McCoy when it comes to silk, jade, and even what looks good. Allen is a wonderfully kind soul, and thankful as we were for his help, his company in and of itself was the welcomest part of our shopping adventure.

We all rushed back to the Friendship Guesthouse, reveling in our smart purchases, to get ready for our end of class Graduation Dinner. Everyone came down looking beautiful, and we were met by our Lao-Shu (teachers) Kevin, Mrs. Wang, and Mrs. Yun-Yuang, along with Mr. Wang, his wife, Behone, Nancy, Allen, and we met Dr. Sun at the restaurant. It was a fantastic meal at a delicious goose restaurant in Changchun, also featuring fresh scallops, some delicious potatoes, shrimp fried rice, and a number of other delicious dishes, obviously including several different styles of goose. The conversation flowed freely, and it was wonderful to spend some time with our teachers outside of the classroom, as well as offer our sincerest thanks to all of the people who have helped us while we’ve been in Changchun.

The next morning, bright and early, we at least got to thank Mr. Wang and Nancy one more time before we got on our flight bound for Chengdu in the Sichuan Province. When we arrived in the airport, we had our tour guide Abby and a friend of Fr. Nowel’s who would be accompanying us, Yan Li there to welcome us. We stopped briefly at the hotel and prepared ourselves for our first stop in Chengdu.

It feels so strange—staring into its eyes, it’s as if I’m staring into the eyes of a photograph. But this particular photograph is hungrily chewing on a stalk of bamboo, and thanks to the heat is inside in a spacious cage alongside a number of other lazily shuffling animals. This is the Panda Reserve in Chengdu, China. And thanks to the lateness of the day, plus the usual humidity and boiling heat in the Sichuan Province where Chengdu is located, the Giant Pandas young and old are all inside today. Still, to see them even outside of their natural habitat is enough to take my breath away. They are lazier than I expected, slothful even, but also majestic in their own way, and particularly fascinating when one considers how close they came to extinction.

The Panda, an iconic symbol of China, is one of the world’s most beloved endangered species. In Chengdu, the Reserve and Research Center is devoted to protecting and strengthening the Panda population, and is one of three such reserves across China. But the Giant Panda is not the only animal protected and showcased there—there is also the small, but more colorful Red Panda, which appears as if a mix between fox, raccoon and panda, as well as several colorful peacocks strolling about the grounds with the visitors. I managed to capture photos of several butterflies as well as a mass of Koi fish and several ducks tracing circles around a small pond on the grounds.

Sichuan is known for its heat, and for the spiciness of its food especially. As our tour guide, Abbey explained, the food is meant to be so spicy so that a person can sweat out all of the humidity, which is not particularly good for the body. Another side effect is that, beautiful as they are, women of the Sichuan province are often called “Spicy Ladies” for their fiery disposition and kick-butt attitudes. I didn’t get the chance to find out how true that was in our one day there, but we’ll be back next week to visit a large Buddhist Monastery in Chengdu, so perhaps I’ll have my chance then. The dinner we had certainly didn’t disappoint, and I stuck with mostly mild dishes and white rice as I watched my traveling companions literally sweat it out!

In the evening I took in a Chinese Sichuan Opera Show (Fu Rong Gou Cui), all by my lonesome but not particular at a loss for it. There were a large number of tour groups, so I had seats in the back, but the show was immensely entertaining! It began with some traditional gong and drum music performed by a cadre of talented musicians, which was followed by a violently exciting Mask-Opera called “Three Heroes Fight Against Ivbu”, though, the fearsome masks of the fighters made it difficult to decipher who was good and who was evil!

This was followed by a classical Sichuan Opera Play which told a love story between two beautiful actors, surrounded by a group of wonderful twirling, swirling dancers adorned with impossibly long, colorful sleeved costumes that billowed with their every movement. This was followed by a display of wonderful shadow puppets, including the classics like dog and a swan, but also an impressive conversation between two old men, a hooting owl, and two lovers. Next up was a stick puppet show, wherein the puppeteer was as entertaining as her ward.

The next act was a hilarious classic Chinese comedic performance called “Rolling Oil Lamp”, in which a mischievious husband and his fed-up wife get into an argument that prompts her to place a ‘magic’ oil lamp on his head and order him around with its power to rekindle whenever he blows it out. The husband eventually realizes that his wife and the magic handkerchief that keep the oil lamp flaming are all smoke and mirrors, and he goes back to his gambling ways. This was one of my favorite portions, as the two actors were immensely talented individuals who had so much physical and facial talent that I could laugh and follow the story without understanding the language.

Next up was was a Sichuan Opera Solo performed by a very talented singer and a group of twirling fan girls who’s dancing was equally impressive, along with a solo on the Chinese stringed instrument, the Erhu. And, the final section and perhaps the most well known type of Chinese opera, a section entitled “Changing Faces”. A troupe of actors, including puppeteers, musicians, and others, enacted several different stories wearing a succession of colorful, fearsome, and hilarious masks, all of which they would change with a mere swipe of hand, drop of fan, or twist of neck, defying expectations and forcing disbelief. It was a perfect end to a fantastic show, and a wonderful example of a Chinese cultural favorite.

I headed back to the hotel to pack and spend some time with my travelling companions (which may or may not have led to a late night run to an American fast food favorite…) but did my best to get some sleep despite the heat—the next morning we would be up early once again for a flight to Lhasa in Tibet!

Weekend Around Changchun

N.B: Unfortunately the internet connection where we are at the moment is good enough for me to post, but not for me to attach pictures. I’ll be sure to update my next few posts with photos as soon as possible!

Someone is spreading gunk over my face, even as I feel bones and muscles I was unaware I had. I feel as if I’ve grown an extra 2 feet in the past hour, and as they lay towel over my eyes to protect them, I retreat back into my body, releasing all of my tension, all of my worry, even all of my concern about how difficult my first week of class has been. This is our Thursday treat, a trip to Julie’s Health Improvement Center in Changchun. Fr. Mark, a lover of traditional Chinese medicine (though he claims acupuncture went a bit too far!) took us to his favorite massage spot in Changchun, where we enjoyed an afternoon of facials and massages. And for those of you worried for Dan and Steven, who you might remembered had a bit of a problem with tickling during our foot massage, please don’t. Dan decided to stay home and rest for a bit, but as our new friend Candy said, she would never forget Steven, the “laughing man”. And, after all, isn’t that the best medicine?

Sometimes after we have almost forgotten the things that we loved as children, we find them in the strangest of places. Sometimes it is a favorite sport, our love for which is rekindled when we participate in Intermurals at college or university. Sometimes it is a moving professor who reminds us why we have always loved something. And sometimes it is a group of Chinese scientists and researchers who remind us of a childhood love for that most awe-inspiring of animals, the dinosaur.

After a week in Chinese class, struggling to master even the tones that make up each word we were learning, it was tough to think that a trip to a Paleontology Collection would be terribly exciting, especially when all I could think about was how nice my bed would feel. But Fr. Nowel had promised us some very impressive fossils and a very good meal, so who was I to say no?

We traveled across Changchun to another part of Jilin University, the Sino-German Joint Group of Paleontology and Geosciences. There we met former Vice President of Jilin University, Dr. Sun,who is a friend of Fr. Nowel’s as well as Providence College professor, Dr. Woods. He invited us into his private collection of fossils, along with a few of his colleagues, given that the larger Museum near to the Center was under renovation. As we walked in, we were greeted by a large reproduction of the bones of one famous ‘thunder-lizard’, a dinosaur. Underneath it were several examples of fossilized dinosaur eggs, and flanking the walls were different speciments of plant, mammal, and avian fossils from different periods, including a Compsognathus, the Caudal vertebrae of a massive Titanadosaurus, and a bird species called by its scientific name Confusiousornis sanctus. The collection was impressive, and made me wish that the full museum had been open.

We strolled out into Changchun’s Culture Square, greeted by crowds of people flying kites, roller-skating, singing and talking, and taking walks with their families. There were far too many beautiful things to see, from the colorful kites decorating the sky to the beautiful children strolling around the square with their families. We tried to drink in all of the details as we walked, from the football (soccer) fields to the 4 Statues of the Seasons placed facing each Cardinal Direction in the park. We however, also had a schedule to keep, as Dr. Sun had invited us to dinner at a hotel quite a ways away from the Square.

We arrived at the hotel feeling woefully underdressed, as greeters in sparkling pink dresses welcomed us in, taking us up to a top-notch restaurant where we let Dr. Sun welcome us and choose the dishes. We had a meal to rival any other we’ve had, punctuated by toasts from Dr. Sun, the students, and Fr. Nowel, all expressing our thanks, our hopes for long friendships between us and the people we had met, and a desire to spend more time together in the future. I think that Dr. Sun’s enthusiastic “Bottom’s Up!” at the end of the meal characterized the whole day as each of us tried to fill our cups to the brim and drink in all of the beautiful things we saw.

Saturday morning began with a visit to the Changchun Catholic Cathedral. The Catholic Church, as it is official recognized by the Chinese government, serves many Christians in China, and the Church was a beautiful testament to that. Many of the stained glass scenes were interesting choices, as well as some standards—the falling of Paul from his horse, the giving of the 10 Commandments, the Annunciation to Mary, the closing of the Red Sea, and others. It was a beautiful Church, and offered all of us a quiet moment to reflect on our trip thus far, to give thanks for the opportunity, and to mentally prepare for the rest of our day.

Red Guard patrol the halls even as woks sizzle, water boils, and eggs crack. A group of them display their arm bands even as they play an interesting Chinese game similar to Checkers outside, while photos and images of Chairman Mao, Josef Stalin, and other famous leaders stare down from the walls. The smell of food fills the air, as does the squawk of a parrot we pass on our way in. This is one of Changchun’s famous Cultural Revolution themed restaurants, which commemorates the lifestyle and times of China’s cultural revolution from 1966-1976. The waiters and waitresses dress as members of the Red Guard, and where there might be road signs or antlers in a themed restaurant in the States there are instead relics of the past, photos, sayings, and poems of and by Chairman Mao Tse-Dong, and some of the best food we’ve had anywhere. It was certainly an interesting taste of China, and a reminder of just how different perceptions of the past can be for different people.

When many of us think of tragedies from the 1930s-40s, the first that comes to mind is the Holocaust, perpetrated by Adolf Hilter and the Nazis. And, terrible, horrifying, and incomprehensible as it is, many Chinese will instead think of the attempts by Japan to brutally colonize and control China during those years. In Changchun there stands testament to this terrible tragedy in the Puppet Emperor’s Palace and the Museum of Japanese Aggression in China’s Northeast.

The Japanese attempted to establish a foothold in China and create a new state, called Manchuria, to which they invited the last emperor of China, Pu-Yi, as ‘ruler’, though he was primarily a puppet of Japanese aggressors. To this, and for the purpose of legitimizing their control, they built him an immense palace in Changchun, featuring stables and horse racing tracks, rooms and halls for his wives and servants, space to watch movies, to discuss politics, a swimming pool (which he never used thanks to an ancient edict from the Qing Dynasty concerning Emperor’s and their naked bodies), and an Air-Raid shelter amidst the beautiful pools and gardens. The palace is certainly smaller than the Forbidden City, Pu-Yi’s original living space, but no less impressive in many ways.

The Museum of Japanese Aggression in China’s Northeast is difficult to conceive of—it details numerous terrible attempts by the Japanese to legitimize and cement their rule, including propoganda, false attacks, cruel scientific experiments on Chinese subjects, the transplanting of Japanese households onto Chinese land, the terror of labor camps, and other atrocities. It is difficult to conceive of, and thus that much more difficult to describe—suffice it to say that the museum showcases a terrible tragedy of history that I felt crushed I had not known more about.

The weekend, sobering as Saturday’s trip had been, was not all as such. Sunday we took a trip to Lake Nanhu Park in Changchun, where we enjoyed a wonderful day of people watching, Paddle Boat rides, watching the various amusements and games, and doing our best to beat the heat. Personal favorites of my own included a wonderful pair of children who wanted to practice their English as I awaited the rest of the group (who were trying out a virtual roller coaster I wanted no part in), and the kindness of the many people who let me take their photograph (even as we caught a few Chinese people sneaking photographs of the Mei Guo Ren, which is Chinese for American!). The weather was hot, but it was still a beautiful day up until a sudden spat of rain that sent us running to do a bit more shopping on Gilin Road in Changchun and at a few underground markets.

And that was it for our first week in Changchun! Thankfully both a relaxing and eye-opening weekend, because Monday would bring our 2nd and final week of classes, our exam, and our (hopeful!) Graduation Dinner. But, until then, hope everyone is doing well!

Ni Hao!

Ni hao! Due bu qi—Hello! I’m sorry. I’ve been far too behind on my blog, but I’ll be doing my best to really catch up over the next few days. The past 2 weeks we’ve been taking an Introductory Chinese Class here at Jilin University in Changchun. So this post comes courtesy of Tang-Mo (that’s my Chinese name: Tang is the name of a famous Chinese dynasty, and Mo means silence—very appropriate hahah!).

Here, ala David Letterman, are 10 Things To Know about Chinese and our Class:

1. Chinese is a tonal language—that is to say that each syllable features one of 4 different tones that indicate how to pronounce it, and the different pronunciations imply different meanings for each word. There can also be no tone, which means another pronunciation and the possibility of another meaning!

2. The tones in the Chinese language also apply to names, which means that Mr. Wong and Mrs. Wong are differentiated by the tone with which you speak it—this can cause major problems when you are looking for someone with a common Chinese name if your pronunciations are no good!

3.There are no tenses in Chinese—this means that there are words to indicate the past, present and future tenses, and this also means that sentences can grow to extraordinary lengths as a result.

4. We are only studying spoken Chinese, which when written out is called pin-yin. Written Chinese features characters, of which there are literally thousands, far too many to try and learn in 2 weeks.

5. The Chinese language encompasses both Cantonese and Mandarin—we are learning only the latter, though either is exceptionally difficult.

6. The reason we have 3 different teachers is because they each teach a different aspect of Chinese—Mrs. Wong is our basic speech teacher, Mrs. Yun Yuang is our pronunciation teacher, and Kevin (that’s his English name) is our ‘listening’ teacher. Each class covers a lot of the same material, but from different angles and with different emphasis.

7. We are in class from 8:30-10, 10:20-11:50 and from 1:30-3:00 each day. If that sounds long, trust me it is, but at the same time incredibly enjoyable because of how much we learn each day.

8. One of the most interesting things about Chinese is how things literally translate—for instance, Zhong-guo (China) translates as “Middle Land”, while Mei-Guo (America) translates as “Beautiful Place”. Other funny examples include the Chinese word for cell-phone translating as “Hand Machine”, and the word for Goodbye translating roughly as “We will meet again”.

9. One of the most difficult things in learning Chinese is getting enough practice in speaking but also in listening—when our teachers tell us that they are surprised how quickly we can speak English, we remind them that to us they are speaking Chinese far too fast! One of the phrases we’ve all mastered is Man dianr shuo, “Speak more slowly” and Wo bu zhi dao, “I don’t understand”!

10. Most people in China learn to speak English at a very young age nowadays—as I’ve said, many parents here in China try to motivate their children to communicate with us when we engage them, which means that we always feel bad when we are trying to speak Chinese and people can’t understand us. However many people don’t get the chance to practice their English very much, so it’s not much to hope that wherever you go there will be people who speak your language!

So that’s 10 Things to know—over the next few posts, I’ll try to mix in more Chinese for all my readers out there, but wish all of us luck on our exam tomorrow for the time being!

Hot Pot, or How I Learned to Love Boiling Stock and Raw Food

Almost every meal we’ve enjoyed in China is family style—that is, one doesn’t simply order the meal for oneself, but picks and chooses dishes that everyone at the table can then sample from throughout the meal. You aren’t limited to trying to decide—if there are other people who want it, you can end up having just about everything you might want. Often this can end up leading to a clash of chopsticks, as you might call it, when two people shoot out to grab at the same choice cut of meat or that one special vegetable as it goes by on the“Lazy Susan” table found in most restaurants. Never have I found these sorts of clashes to happen more than at a Hot Pot Restaurant like the one we sampled in Changchun on our first day there.

We began our last day in Beijing with surprisingly blue skies—one almost never sees the blue sky and the clouds thanks to the smoggy and smoky air of the city. But the excitement was short-lived—we were taking a ride back to Beijing’s airport for a short flight to the Jilin Province and the city of Changchun. We arrived in the airport to a warm welcome from our contact at Jilin University, Mr. Wong, and our two volunteer assistants Nancy and Behone, who would be helping us find our way and with our classwork.

We took a short bus trip from the airport to the Friendship Guesthouse, which is a dorm-style hotel in the middle of Changchun’s Jilin University, where we’d be taking an introductory course in Spoken Mandarin Chinese for our 2 weeks in Changchun. We took a few hours to unpack, catch up on some sleep after our early flight, and explore the Guesthouse before heading out to a Hot-Pot restaurant for dinner, which is called huo guo here in China. It consists of a central bowl of ‘stock’ that is heated, and diners choose numerous raw vegetables, meats, spices, and other odds and ends that they drop into the ‘pot’, allow it to cook, and pick out as they wish.

We decided on a mixed pot, which means that it was half plain stock and half spicy. I decided to live on the spicy side, as I’ve found myself doing more and more here in China, which meant that I needed extra peanut sauce to cool things down! You’ve also never used chopsticks until you’ve tried to hold onto slippery glass noodles or pick up shrimp balls from out of a boiling hot pot, trying to avoid the splashes of stock!

Sunday morning arrived, and we took a tour of the Jilin University Campus in our immediate area—the University is actually a number of campuses scattered across Changchun according to Nancy and Beyone, so we saw some of the facilities closest to us, including the football (soccer) fields, the swimming pool, the library, post office, and numerous other buildings. One of the more impressive sights was a large monument featuring the school’s song, including the words and score! After seeing the campus, we headed out into Changchun to see some of the local flavor and some of the local shops.

There are a number of markets in China usually called ‘Underground Markets’ which are literally set up in old bunkers and underground tunnels. Much like the Silk Market in Beijing, they are a shopaholics dream, though in Changchun they featured much less bargaining! We spent some time strolling through looking for gifts and souveniers before heading into one of Changchun’s malls to see what shopping in China was really like. The stores were nothing particularly surprising, though many of the fashions were, and the mannequins were particularly different—it seemed like the stores were selling the bodies their clothes were on as much as the clothes themselves!

Heading back to the Guesthouse, Nancy and Behone gave us some advice about our first day of Chinese class, but it was little more than a reminder of just how different it would be from English! Still, we were all excited, if apprehensive—it will certainly be an adventure to learn something so different. Still, that will be something for me to post about another day–look forward to hearing about how different tones mean that different Chinese words can have more than 1 meaning, the idea of not having tenses, and lots of other exciting things from our first week of classes here in Changchun!

I want to Ride my Bicycle

As a child I can still remember Social Studies classes about China, and the ubiquitous idea that everyone in Beijing rides a bicycle, and there are few cars to get in the way. But as I travel through Beijing, it seems to be the opposite—bicyclists do weave between cars, buses and vans, but they seem to be the minority, while the honking of car horns fills the air and the machines dominate the streets. According to my tour guide, even such an idea as Beijing=Bicycles is outdated 10 years out. It’s a surprising idea, that the entire face of a country so to speak can change so rapidly, but as I’ve learned, in China it would seem many things are possible.

Still, we began our 3^rd day in Beijing with a bicycle ride, though we were protected from a sudden rain storm by tarp. We embarked on one of China’s numerous pedicabs to travel to a Hutong neighborhood nearby Tianamen Square, but our first stop was the famous Beijing Drum Tower. Beijing’s ancient atmosphere was once punctuated, every 2 hours, by a magnificent drum beat to help people keep appointments. As our tour guide said, “At one time, there are no clocks, no watches, no way to tell time. So we depend on the Drum Tower to know what time it is, and to make sure we are never late!” There are still individuals who beat these iconic drums, and we had rushed across several side streets in an attempt to catch them: it was quite an impressive show, and combined with the view of the Beijing skyline from the top of the tower, something I would highly recommend!

We strolled into the Hutong neighborhood, with our guide offering tidbits along the way—it was difficult to listen though, as we passed by beautiful shops selling hand-painted tea sets, leather bound journals, and numerous other wares! The Hutong neighborhoods are very traditional, with many being slowly updated for the new face of China. The government has torn many of them down to put up cloud piercing high-rises, but there are still a number of people living in the Hutongs. Older Chinese do not always care for these buildings, as the Chinese belief is that a human’s feet are like the roots of a tree: they should touch the door each day so that they can thrive, grow and change. This idea also speaks to the fact that Chinese individuals, though they may travel, often live their entire lives in the same town or city they were born in—something that surprises many of us in America! Still, both these ideas, and the fact that they are changing as buildings get higher and young people move further away speaks to a number of clashes across China between old and new—just another thing that makes the country what it is.

As for the neighborhood, Hutong is a word that describes the narrow alleys formed by these neighborhoods, and you can tell what type of person once lived in each home based on several factors—the characters on the door, the stone decoration at each home’s threshold. China’s thresholds are iconic—each one seems to frustrate travelers as there is a sizable lip to each door. These come from ancient Chinese beliefs about spirits and zombies—spirits are said to have no feet, but merely to glide along the ground. If there is a lip to the door, the ghost cannot enter a home and torment its inhabitants. As for zombies, they are said to be faceless bodies risen from the grave, that attach together in long lines with each one holding onto the shoulders of the creature in front of it. These faceless, shambling horrors are said to only be able to move by jumping in a line, so the lip of the door trips them up and prevents them from entering the home—it’s considered bad luck to step on one as you walk into a home, but I can’t imagine what people might think if you trip over one!

 

We visited a resident of the Hutong neighborhood, Madame Yuan. She welcomed us graciously into her home and told us about her life there: she lived in the rooms surrounding the courtyard with 3 generations of her family, and both she and her husband were retired. She claimed that it was even more of an honor now to live in the Hutong, because so many had been knocked down, and that she hoped she could be there for a long time yet. Her son, she said, was an artist (a painter), and her husband had inherited the art and business of silk paper cutting, in which silk paper is cut and layered to form beautiful prints. Both of their pieces were particularly beautiful, and I purchased one of her husbands silk-paper cuts as a souvenier of both the trip and the Hutong neighborhood. But before we left, I had to ask—what did the red chili peppers she had hanging by the door mean? Madam Yuan, surprised I didn’t know, told me that they represented longevity, luck, and prosperity. I was amazed to find that the chili pepper, an iconic symbol for Italians for the same reasons as far as I know, was also here in China! It always amazes me how these things happen.

We caught a ride with our pedicab drivers (Dan and I were quite glad that ours recognized us!), and were on our way to the Temple of Heaven, famous sight where ancient Chinese emperors would come to pray for a good harvest at the beginning of the lunar calendar. Once again color here is important: green represents the earth, while blue represents heaven, but for the first time, shape is as well. The Temple of Heaven and the surrounding grounds are iconic because of the mix of circular and square walls and buildings—circle represents heaven, square represents earth. The buildings were another look at iconic Chinese architecture and we took our time walking to the Sacred Mound at the center of the site.

The Sacred Mound is a famous spot for photos in China, but holds a much deeper purpose—it is said that standing on it, if you reach out the Heaven to speak to the Gods, they will hear and answer you in the moment you stand in the center. We did not want to prevent other people from listening, so we jumped on as a group, but it was still hard not to feel a chill as we ‘phoned’ God. Around the Sacred Mound the stones were arranged in concentric circles made up by 9 blocks, followed by 18, 27, 36, et cetera, once again reminding not only the importance of the Chinese lucky number, but also the preciseness of the architecture.

There is a symphony of noises: pops, beats, laughter, conversation, the splashing of water, it mingles and mixes to form the noise of a Chinese massage parlor. This was our next stop, where I marveled at how the massage artists made music with the human body, finding grooves, bones, and muscles I didn’t know I had, and yet somehow had managed to tense up. The highlight of the massage though was the fact that Dan and Steven, my fellow travelers, are both very ticklish, and could not stop laughing as two very confused young Chinese women tried to help them relax!

“100”

“You give me your final, no joke price”

“100”

“This is real silk, fine embroidery. Final price?”

“100”

“No! You go a little bit higher, I go a little bit lower, and we arrive at a price together!”

“…100”

The Silk Market in Beijing is a shopaholics dream: it is stall upon stall, floor upon floor, as if a building-wide bazaar, filled with every type of shop that you can imagine. You can have a suit made in any color imaginable, buy Nike and Adidas products (though noticeably with other company tags…), touristy t-shirts, traditional Chinese paper lanterns and masks, electronics from cell phones to DVDs, shoes, and almost anything else. No price is set, but watching my friend Dan haggle was a new experience—the exchange above came from a particularly exasperated stall-owner who could not believe he didn’t seem to follow any of the rules of bargaining. The best part—she gave it to him for 100 yuan (about 17 dollars!). I was not always so lucky, but I managed to pick up a few beautiful souveniers for myself at some basement level prices.

I have always thought that the warrior monk, the kung-fu Buddhist, is a Western conception, a stereotype of Chinese culture and people. But, as I learned in “The Legend of Kung Fu” at the Red Theater in Beijing, it is apparently more than mere fiction. The show was the story of Pu-Ji, a young Chinese boy given by his mother to a Buddhist temple, who learns Kung Fu with his friends from a wizened master, suffers temptations and trials, and overcomes it all to become the new Abbot of the temple. The kung fu in the show was absolutely amazing, and yet almost operatic in its story-telling ability. Though the show featured sound, light, and special effects, the story is apparently a very traditional one, as is the art of kung fu. The Warrior Monk is apparently more fact than fiction, so I suppose not everything I think of as a stereotype necessarily is!

Final stop for the night was a Peking Duck restaurant, which needs no introduction—suffice it to say that I am exceptionally glad this is one Chinese food I can find back in the states!

I will say that across the board one of the greatest things about food in China is the freshness—the foods literally burst with flavor, exploding any expectations I’ve had–I haven’t found a food in China I haven’t liked!

We all decided to have a few drinks in the hotel bar to celebrate our last night in Beijing, since the next morning we would be getting onto a plane to Changchun, bound for Jilin University!