Time-traveling through Beijing

A journey that commences with illness usually ends in disaster.

This, I know.

Yet somehow, despite a concerted effort to stay well, I contracted a virus mere days before taking off for Beijing. And found myself, instead of joyfully preparing for my three days in the capital, dreading the wear and tear of travel that would no doubt compound my symptoms.

I longed to feel the rush of travel-induced adrenaline at the thought of trekking across the Great Wall or stepping foot in Tienanmen Square. But, honestly, my virus-weary body simply shuddered at the amount of effort it was all going to take.

Still, I couldn't bear the thought of tossing away hundreds of dollars and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to spend the weekend convalescing in bed. So Friday afternoon, with bags packed, Ibuprofen at the ready and feeling slightly better than I had been, I made my way north.

Now, I can count on one hand the amount of times I have had a “smooth” trip when traveling. By smooth I mean everything happens travel-wise that is supposed to. My flights departed on time and arrived on time. My airport pick-up was waiting for me, sign in hand, at the arrivals gate. My room was ready and well-heated (and complete with considerate roomies). I have no doubt that a certain Someone was well aware of my current state and knew I was just one 2-hour delay away from a complete meltdown.

Prior to my trip, I had purchased a pack of face masks to combat the heavy pollution of Beijing, very much expecting scenes like this:

It was 8RMB poorly spent.

Saturday morning dawned clear and sunny. This (and the fact that most of my symptoms had beat a hasty retreat overnight) immediately brought out my wanderlust in full force. Braced with a cup of coffee and a ticking clock on my brief stay, I made my way to my first stop: Tienanmen Square.

If you've followed this blog for any period of time, you'll know that I've traveled to my fair share of historical landmarks. So I can't say why Tienanmen Square had the effect on me that it did. Surely, the sheer size of it took me aback. But I just remember instantly feeling displaced the moment I set foot in the square. It was like somehow history had clawed its way from the past, knocking aside the unsuspecting present, to spread itself out before me.

Perhaps it was the fact that the Tienanmen Square massacre happened in 1989 and not 1889--a history that overlaps with my own short life. It's an event that was always in the last chapter or two of our high school World History book. You know the chapters I mean. When "the last decade" makes that jarring shift to "last year" and your superficial high school self is suddenly eclipsed by your own mortality.

Perhaps it was the uniformed officers spaced strategically throughout the square. Or the fact that the entire event has been so meticulously swept from the Chinese consciousness that, really, it could've been last month, couldn't it? That just weeks ago protesters were clamoring for a China much different from than the one I currently live in.

Whatever the case, Tienanmen Square marked me. Even as the day passed, I couldn't shake the sense of loss that made the air over the square hang just that much heavier.

This rather stark welcome to Beijing made the shift from Tienanmen Square to the Forbidden City that much more jolting. I passed through the Gate of Heavenly Peace and under Mao's imposing visage and leapt from 1989 to 1420. Suddenly, there I was in a piece of beautifully preserved ancient China. It was surreal in the sense that I felt like I was on a set of a film about ancient China and not in actuality walking through archways and strolling through gardens that had once been the home of emperors.

I foolishly did not take the name Forbidden City literally. After wandering for what seemed like hours, I was astonished to find I had only seen about a quarter of the grounds. Thankfully, much of the city is laid out in similar patterns with similar architecture, so although there was a fair amount that I did not see, I did feel as though I was able to get the full Forbidden City experience. (For those of you considering a trip here, give yourself a full day if you have your heart set on seeing everything.)

The evening was spent time-traveling yet again. This time to 2008 to experience Beijing's Olympic Park. Myself and Janina (a new friend from Xiamen) arrived just after sunset as the Water Cube, Bird's Nest, Ling Long Pagoda, and Observation Tower all began their glowing, technicolor transformations. I was instantly pleased that I had decided to come to the park at night instead of midday. The entire area was so much more spectacular when lit. And to make things even more memorable, we passed several groups of middle-aged and elderly men and women taking part in what seemed to be an entertaining blend of tai chi and dance aerobics (see video).

Water Cube (Any guesses as to when Beijing is hosting the next Olympics?)

Ling Long Pagoda

Observation Tower

After a rather disappointing lunch of overly-oiled noodles earlier in the day, I was determined to do better for dinner. Using my hostel-provided map, Janina and I made our way to Wangfujing to experience some of Beijing's night market street food. The map stated that "closing time" for this area was 9pm. When we arrived shortly before that, I was expecting to see thinning crowds and lowering windows.

The map was wrong.

The night market was in full swing. Actually, once I saw the mass of bodies impossibly pressed into the narrow stretches of alleyway, part of me did wish for thinning crowds and lowered windows.

Entering a market, particularly a crowded one, is always a swift punch to the senses. Suddenly air and space are things to be fought for and it seems as though every sense is being more bombarded than the next.

...Oh man, is that stinky tofu or durian I'm smelling? Ah, nope, durian. Definitely, durian...Wait, what is that?! Are those live scorpions? On a skewer?? Wonder what it tastes like though...Really? Did you not just see me standing here? Yes. Yes, that arm is attached to a body...That looks delicious! Do you know what it is? I don't care, I'm totally coming back to get one....

And in this manner you weave your way through endless stalls. Stopping often, drooling frequently and buying little because obviously you can't buy this until you've seen everything else. There might be something even better at the next stall!

Sunday I devoted entirely to the Great Wall.  I knew from speaking to other travelers that, thanks to the unceasing flow of traffic, it generally takes between 2-3 hours to get there and then a few more hours to enjoy the wall and then another 2-3 hours for the the return to Beijing. I decided to book a tour with my hostel, Leo Hostel. They promised a trip to a "secret," relatively tourist-free part of the wall, complete with original, un-renovated sections. It was money well spent.

Now for those of you who recall my climb up Pichincha, you'll remember that a large part of my hiking troubles were due to the weather. The drastic temperature drop at 15,000 feet above sea level and my lack of warm clothing resulted in a miserable final push up the volcano.

Lucky for me, Sunday also dawned sunny and crystal clear. Absolutely ideal weather for a trip to the Great Wall. However, as soon as our bus pulled into the parking lot 2 1/2 hours later, we unceremoniously tumbled out into an arctic blast of 35mph wind. My mind instantly flashed to images of me, wind-battered and numb, clinging for dear life to Pichincha's craggy peak. This could not be happening again. Janina, who had gone to the wall only the day before, had reported pleasant temperatures and little wind to speak of. Where on earth had this icy windstorm blown in from? I irritably threw on my extra knit sweater, pulled up my hood and made my way to the base of the wall, bemoaning my misfortune all the way.

As it happens with most tour groups, the sixteen of us all exchanged perfunctory greetings to give each other the once over. Then, with judgments cast, coalesced into smaller factions to complete the hike. I ended up in a group with three Australians--the only other people in the group who seemed to actually want to hike the wall and not just take the requisite picture and spend the rest of the time texting in the cafe.

The four of us ended up doing a six kilometer hike in total. Now, I know all of you adventurists out there are probably chuckling under your breath at the incredible brevity of our hike. In our defense, it consisted almost entirely of up hill trekking (up stairs!) and we were being continually buffeted by gale force winds. I'm talking, I-was-physically-blown-over-several-times-by-the-wind gale force winds. And to add to the madness, once we reached the final watchtower on the renovated part of the wall, we thought it'd be fun to scramble up the next mountainside where the wall had decayed to little more than a slash of crumbled stones.

All complaints aside, though, it was an absolutely beautiful experience. One that truly cannot come more highly recommended. My hostel had lived up to its word and we encountered few other people as we climbed--leaving us completely alone to enjoy the mountains rolling away from us in all directions and the wall snaking ever-steadily before us. Even after we had hiked to that final watchtower, the wall in all of its desolated splendor continued on until it collided with the horizon and then disappeared from view.

My fingers were quite thoroughly frozen by the end of our little trek

It was difficult trying to plan my final hours in Beijing after that experience. What tops the Great Wall? And what can you squeeze into 4 1/2 hours on a Monday morning before you have to take off for the airport? I nixed a trip to the Summer Palace seeing that it was too far to risk a trip there and back in time. The Temple of Heaven was close, as was Jingshan Park. One of my new Aussie friends, however, seemed unimpressed with the Temple of Heaven, so that left Jingshan Park with its reputed bird's eye view of Beijing and the Forbidden City.

Monday was decidedly colder than Saturday or Sunday and even with my sweater and sweatshirt, I found myself (again) wishing for more layers. My legs had also fully realized what I had done to them the day before and as I walked to the subway they began vigorously protesting. My ankles also joined in the fun. By the time I exited the subway I was wincing with each step. This was helped little by the fact that I didn't actually know how to get to Jingshan Park. I had a general idea that it was north of the Forbidden City and that was about it.

After wandering up and down the same sidewalk a couple times looking for some clue as to where the park might be, I finally ran into a nice older gentleman (he clearly pitied the disoriented, hobbling foreigner) who set me on the right path.

By the time I actually arrived at Jingshan Park, I was in pain and painfully behind schedule. Wasted legs, meet stairs to the pavilions. Stairs, meet legs. Silly me. Of course a bird's eye view at the top of a hill meant climbing.

Yet, as with the Great Wall, the hike was well worth every creak and twinge as I climbed. From the topmost pavilion, I had a complete 360 degree view of Beijing.

Seeing the Forbidden City from this vantage point I was once again struck by its immensity. It's shimmering golden rooftops seemed to stretch out for miles. I could easily see why the emperors had often frequented this place in their leisure time or to host their imperial goings-on. Jingshan is actually technically part of the Forbidden City as it was the soil excavated from the moats of the Imperial Palace that created the artificial hills on which the pavilions stand.

Topmost pavilion at Jingshan Park

Sadly, my time in the park ended up being quite short as I still had to hoof it 2,000 meters back to the subway station, return to my hostel, grab my things, and catch the train to the airport.

Looking back on my brief stay in China's capital, (particularly my chaotic race around Beijing on Monday) I definitely wish that I'd had an extra day of exploration. I can't say when or if I'll ever return and I feel like in my haste to do as much as I could, I didn't have much time to do what I like best--wander. My hostel was located in a lovely little hutong and I wanted nothing more than to spend an afternoon strolling around its maze-like corridors.

For those of you considering your own trip to Beijing, I would highly recommend each of the attractions I went to, in addition to the Summer Palace (it was well reviewed by all of the other travelers I met). With its particular synergy of past and present, Beijing is the perfect place for a little time-traveling.

More pictures can be found here and if you'd like to see video clips of each of the places I visited (and live scorpions on skewers!), check out the video below.

When your travel blog becomes just a blog...

Usually when I sit down to write a blog post, I've already spent a week or so tossing around ideas in my head. Generally something catchy to kick things off with, perhaps a witty anecdote, followed by some bulleted informational tidbits (and more anecdotes) and then a strong finish with an inspirational flourish. So, generally, when I sit down to type, I have a clear idea of what I want to say and how to say it.

Not so today.

Today I just turned on my computer and thought, "Hey, let's write a blog post." So, apologies, if this post is neither riveting nor well-organized.

To be honest, my lack of pre-writing planning is due largely to the fact that I don't have much to say. Generally, I'll reach some sort of month-a-versary and therefore feel the need to sum up what's transpired in the last few months. Or I'll have just returned from a trip and be positively pulsating with news about my experiences (see previous post). 

But today is March 24th. It is a pleasantly unremarkable day. It is not a month-a-versary. I did not just come back from backpacking through Tibet or scaling the Andes. And so I feel a bit un-tethered. 

What does one say on a travel blog when there has been no recent traveling and when the novelty of adjusting to a new country has subsided?

Perhaps this is the part of living abroad when a travel blog begins the subtle shift into just...a blog. When your routines are now well entrenched. When your Saturday evenings begin to resemble the Saturday evening from the week before and the week before that. When you make small talk (very small talk with my limited Chinese) with the lady at the corner store because you're there every week to buy your usual two liters of water. When you no longer step out your door waiting to be accosted by some new "culturalism" that you've yet to encounter. "Life in China" suddenly becomes just "life." 

So, then, instead of mulling over the pros and cons of squat toilets or rehashing one of my many "Xiamen-cidents," I can talk about just "life" things. I can tell you about my job and how I have this one class that drives me absolutely bonkers and has left me questioning the practicality of continuing a teaching career. I can tell you about meeting friends for lunch after church on Sundays or for Friday movie nights. I can tell you about the cute necklace I picked up at H&M the other day. Or the guy I met. Or the new restaurant we decided to check out. Or the novel I just finished reading. Or the million other moments that fill our lives and subsequent conversations that have nothing to do with traveling/adventuring/adapting to a new country.

I like this phase. For all of my misgivings about China, I would be lying if I said it hasn't grown on me in its own strange way. It's certainly been a slow and tenuous process, but I'm not quite in the hurry I was to leave even just a month ago. I feel...settled. (To the extent that someone like me will ever feel settled anyway.) I feel like finally, after 7 months of being here and after all of the ups and downs, I've begun to make my peace with China. 

I still get squeamish when people spit near me or when I have to give a wide berth to the toddler peeing on the sidewalk or any of the myriad things I've blogged about before. But I feel like I've started to build a community here. And one thing I've learned is that having community trumps traveling any day. You could be living in the most exotic, breathtaking place on earth, but that elation and novelty isn't sustainable. As the months wear on you find that if all of your relationships are of the superficial, travelers-passing-in-the-night kind, you either begin to long for home or yet another, even more intriguing locale to distract you from the loneliness.

Buuut I'm not quite ready for a total blog conversion (and will likely never be) and this is still a travel blog, so I'm happy to announce a few upcoming trips between now and the end of the school year. At the beginning of April I will be headed to Beijing to see that Great Wall and also the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square and whatever else I can squeeze into the three days I will be there. Then, at the end of May, I'll be headed to South Korea to spend a few days touring Seoul and finally, in July, I'll be making one last trek to Hong Kong to see all that I was unable to during my brief visa run in November. Then I'll be stateside once again on July 14th!

So next up...Beijing!

That SE Asia Life

Bloggies!!

It's been almost two months since my last entry. My deepest apologies. First semester ended in the usual chaotic ways semesters end and with less than a week before I left for my trip, I didn't have the opportunity to squeeze in an update.

To make up for it, I have not one, but four (!!) videos to get you all caught up on what went down in Thailand and Malaysia.

I know I've been vlogging alot recently, so a proper written blog entry will also be forthcoming. I'm thinking end of March/beginning of April depending on how smoothly we get this new semester started.

Please be sure to watch the intro video first and then feel free to skip around and watch whatever interests you. And for those of you not on Facebook, click here to see pictures of Bangkok, here for Phuket, and here for pictures of Malaysia.

Enjoy! (And please ignore all of the editing slip-ups. It took ages to put all of this together and upload it to YT, so there were unavoidably some issues.)

(What is this face?!)

Lumphini Park - 0:07

Temple of the Reclining Buddha - 0:39

Temple of the Emerald Buddha - 3:14

Grand Palace - 4:32

Thai-style banana pancakes - 4:57

Beach lookout - 0:06

Phang Nga Bay - Hidden lagoon - 0:26

Phang Nga Bay - 1:41

Canoe ride thru a mangrove forest - 2:42

Kho Panyi (village built on stilts) - 3:34

Krabi - 3:57

Maya Beach (where they filmed "The Beach") - 5:11

Pileh Lagoon - 7:56

"Monkey Beach" - 10:33

Bamboo Island - 11:02

View from the Big Buddha - 12:06

GEORGETOWN

Cheong Fatt Tze Mansion - 0:06

How to make an ice ball - 1:24

KUALA LUMPUR

Petronas Towers - 2:28

Malaysian-style banana pancakes - 6:12

Batu Caves - 8:37

Petronas Towers at night - 9:56

Reflections, Revisions and Excursions

A new year is upon us once again, bloggies!

I hope that each of you had a wonderful time celebrating with family and friends--whether you were up all night partying until the early hours or snuggled on the couch watching the ball drop (much more my style).

I don't know about you, but I'm still struggling to wrap my mind around the fact that it's 2015. I'm not sure what it is about that number--2015--but it seems so surreal to me. Far more so than 2013 or 2014. I mean, I remember being a kid and discussing what the world would be like this year. My brothers and I had been convinced we'd all be using hover cars by this point and that teleportation would be a very real possibility. 

Although flying cars have (sadly) yet to make a commercial appearance, I did want to take a moment to reflect upon this past year and share with you a few updates for the new one. 

(For those of you not on Facebook, click here to see pictures from our New Year's at the beach.)

Happy Holidays from China with love

It was the strangest feeling walking through the malls here this past month.

Just like at home, there were dazzling ten-foot-tall Christmas trees and yards of sparkling lights strung along the streets and storefronts. Cheerful Santas and smiling snowmen lounged about in meticulous wintery tableaus. Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” blared incessantly from strategically placed speakers.

But unlike home, I knew I would be returning to a cold, empty apartment for the holidays. And instead of rolling out of bed Christmas morning to make waffles and take pictures around the tree, I would be at school teaching.

I've missed Thanksgiving a couple times due to my travels, but never the Big 3-- Christmas, New Year's and my birthday. And, to be honest, I wasn’t thrilled about the idea. Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. The smells, the warmth, the hint of surprise and mystery, that slight sparkle that everything seems tinged with as the day draws closer. I didn’t want to wait another 365 days to celebrate.

If living abroad has taught me anything, it has taught me to be adaptable. To make do. To Macgyver whatever situation you find yourself in and turn it into an opportunity.  

So this year, Christmas was introducing my students to Elf. It was forgetting the lyrics to “Winter Wonderland” while performing at the school’s Christmas Eve program. It was a can of Vanilla Coke for the Chinese teacher in the cubicle behind mine. It was a shared meal of rice and noodles at a new restaurant we found. It was singing Christmas hymns at church and praying for the safe return of our deported pastor. It was finding neither wrapping paper nor gift bows and settling for reusable grocery bags and large pieces of stationery paper. It was sitting with my brother in my little apartment and surprising each other with a gift that was somehow exactly what we both wanted and needed.

It was not like home. It was not Christmas as I imagined it should be. It was Christmas in China and I’ll never have another like it.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year’s to all of you, dear bloggies!

(For pictures from our Christmas Eve program at school, click here.)

Upon closer inspection

I'll soon be able to say that I've been in China for four whole months. Since that first vlog, when I talked about the three things that stood out most to me about China, I've been able to expand that list quite a bit. The longer you stay anyplace, the more its little eccentricities begin to show themselves. The following is a list (I know, another list. I promise the next post will be a proper entry) of all those eccentricities that I have witnessed or experienced firsthand, and that have surprised, amused or annoyed me over the last four months.


No personal space. I don't know that this one caught me too off guard. I mean, c'mon, I'm living in the most populous country in the world. Space is not a readily available commodity. And Ecuador taught me that yes, it's okay to stand so close to someone in the grocery line that your shoulder might double as their breast rest. (Yes. That happened.) Still, after having been in the states for several months before leaving for China, it took another round of readjustment to acclimate to having people all up in my business all the time. It bothers me less and the less the longer I'm here. But I still occasionally find myself inching ever so gradually away from the person breathing down my neck at WalMart just to see if I can maintain a respectable distance. It never works.

Line jumping. While we're on the topic of lines, let me share another Chinese social custom that I've learned to grit my teeth and bear. On countless occasions (mainly at the grocery store, but also at the Entry/Exit Bureau the other day), I have been waiting patiently in line when a harried man or woman comes rushing up the line, jumps right in front of me and hands their items to the cashier to be checked out. Thankfully, in most of these instances, the cashier will honor the fact that I was there first and will tell the person they have to wait while they check me out. On a few occasions, however, I've been forced to wait while the line jumper conducts their business and goes on about their merry way. This same "me first" mentality applies to getting on the bus as well. A few weeks ago, I was nearly stampeded by a group of aunties (elderly Chinese women) who were trying to get around me to get on the bus first. And the bus wasn't even full! *sigh* I know patience has never been my strong suit so perhaps living here will finally instill some in me. But still, my American self doesn't like it. Not one bit.

Women's fashion. One misconception that I had about China--that was quickly laid to rest--was the idea that women here dressed fairly conservatively. In my head, I viewed China as a traditional, highly structured society, and conservative dress seemed to just go hand in hand with that. I was so wrong. Like wrong wrong. Women's fashion in China tends to fall into two categories: sexy-borderline-inappropriate and babydoll. Let's begin with the former.

First, forget mini skirts. Let's just jump right to micro-mini. Like so mini I'm pretty sure you're just wearing a longish shirt. And don't worry. This is an all-inclusive,non-discriminatory look. If you're 55 and still want to step out in booty-baring clothes, more power to you. Just don't forget to add a pair of rhinestone-studded, clear, 5 inch heels to polish off the look. The same goes with shorts. The shorter the better. And if it's 50 degrees out? Don't put on pants. Just throw on some sheer pantyhose underneath and keep rockin' your Daisy Dukes. I kid you not, the other week this 50+ year old woman came marching into the canteen in tights, booty shorts, clear heels, a red, curly perm and a full face of makeup. As inconspicuous and understanding as I try to be when living in foreign countries, I will readily admit I stared. For awhile. And then felt slightly awkward and looked away. And then had to look again because what?!

On the opposite end of the spectrum we have the sugar and spice brigade. Remember those frilly, ruffly, bow-y, cotton candy party dress confections our mothers used to dress us in for birthday parties and Easter Sunday? And those cuffed party socks with the ribbons and ruffled edges that perfectly matched the cotton candy contraption we were wearing? Yes. Now imagine grown women walking around in slightly larger versions of those and instead of our patent leather Mary Janes they're wearing heels. Just. Imagine.

Now, I know I'm sounding terribly American right now. There are of course women who have found a happy medium and resemble neither a stripper nor My Little Pony. And one thing Chinese women are conservative about is covering up on top. As much as they like to show off their legs, showing cleavage is a huge no-no. And, thankfully, most of the women do tend to wear spanx underneath their micro mini clothing. However, if your skirt is so short that I can see that you're wearing spanx, I still feel like there's an issue that needs to be addressed.

Spitting. This one I knew about before coming to China. It was right up there with squat toilets. Every blog, guidebook, and acquaintance who had lived in or visited China felt the need to mention it. Now, I understand why. Everyone here spits. Everywhere. All the time. Men, women, children, young and old alike. They hock loogies like it's their job. And it's not a silent affair. Oh no. If you're going to do it, everyone within a 2km radius needs to know just what you're hacking up. And no, you don't need to find a patch of grass or someplace out of the way of foot traffic. Last week, some guy spit on the floor of the bus! I'm not an incredibly squeamish person, but that. That got me.

Nose picking. Apologies to all of my weak-stomached readers but this one has been a real personal trial for me. If it was just one or two instances, I would have just dismissed it as a distasteful anomaly and forgotten about it. Regrettably, it is a widespread condition. And this is no quick flick or scratch and snatch we're talking about here. These are full-on nasal expeditions that go on for a good 15 to 20 seconds (if not more!) and with no attempt to hide said actions. But that's not even the worst part. The worst part is that the majority of these offenders have been adults! Needless to say, my hand sanitizer rarely leaves my side.

Butchering meat. I feel like the Chinese take the whole concept of "butchering" very literally. In America, when we go to the butcher's to get meat that has been butchered, it generally means that someone has taken the time to carefully separate the meat and bones into nice little edible segments like thighs and steaks and ribs. Here it means that you take a chicken or duck and just hack it to pieces helter skelter. I had duck for dinner tonight and while the heaping serving I received looked quite filling, almost 75% of it was inedible bone and gristle. This is almost always the case. Nicely sliced meat is more expensive and often requires a trip to a nice restaurant or a nice butcher shop. My running theory is that this "helter skelter butchering" is popular because it makes the meat easier to grab onto with chopsticks. But who really knows?


Now, please take all of these reflections with a grain of salt. These observations cannot be readily applied to every Chinese person or China as a whole. All of my perceptions are tainted by my own upbringing and American-ness, and what I see as distressing or hilarious is the product of my social conditioning.

However, I think it's good to include posts like these when I travel. We all make our way through the world carrying around grossly exaggerated cultural stereotypes or romanticized versions of exotic locales. Not everything we encounter in our travels is glamorous and alluring, and not everything lines up with our standards of how things should be. This is why we travel. To be confronted with the things that make us uncomfortable or impatient or maybe slightly queasy. Then we ask ourselves Why? 

If you only complain about your new environment and stop there, you have wasted an opportunity. But if you make it past that place to where you are able to sift through what you think and how you feel and why you behave a certain way, and then on to what others think and how they feel and why they behave a certain way, then you have done something more. You have begun an intercultural exchange--a dialogue--that creates compassion and understanding and self-growth. In that moment, global citizenship is no longer a hip buzzword you toss around over lattes at Starbucks. It is something your personal exchange is actively contributing to.

The biggest small blessings

In light of the recent Thanksgiving holiday, I wanted to take a moment to share some of the things that I’ve come to appreciate after spending the last few years living and traveling abroad. Most of the items on this list are things I’ve become grateful for after living in developing countries and countries where I don’t speak the language. But some of the things on this list are simply things that I took for granted as a country girl moving into urban environments. Whatever the reason, moving outside of home and my comfort zone has heightened my thankfulness in so many ways.

This year I am thankful for…

A shower with hot water AND water pressure. I remember coming home from Ecuador and literally giving thanks every time I took a shower and hot water came out of the shower head. I remembered days in Ecuador when we had no gas which meant no hot water which meant no shower and I had to resort to a quick splash in the sink. (Or a bone chilling speed shower which I could never force myself to do.) Coming to China, I was thrilled that I had my very own water heater installed in my bathroom. The water was a mild trickle but it was HOT! And then, after a month or so into my stay, the school replaced all of the showerheads and now I have hot water and amazing water pressure. I can’t tell you how ecstatic I am every time I take a shower. Oh, the magnificence of being pelted by scalding hot water… it’s a beautiful thing.

 A kind local who is patient enough to sort out your gestures and monosyllabic vocabulary. This has become a very big deal for me here in China, but it also was a factor in Ecuador when I had first arrived and was getting my rusty Spanish back into working order. There is nothing more frustrating or humiliating than when you’re at the grocery store (or the bank, or the bus stop, or a restaurant…) and you simply can’t make yourself understood AND the local you’re trying to communicate with is unfriendly. I’ve had my fair share of locals who’ve simply dismissed me when they discover I’m working with a limited (or nonexistent) vocabulary. But then there are those kind and saintly souls who stop what they’re doing and patiently walk you through how to get from point A to point B. Or take the time to decipher just what exactly it is you’re attempting to order. Or break out their own limited English to help you purchase a train ticket. In those moments the barriers of language and culture suddenly dissipate, and you are just two people rediscovering all of the words in a smile or a touch. I love those moments.

Finding a new favorite food. We all have our comfort foods we run to when things start to fall apart. But often times in new countries, our “food crutches” are not always readily available. So I love when I come across a new dish or snack that is readily available in my new country and that fills the hole left by my longings for a Chipotle burrito or a burger from Five Guys. Having said that, however, when you do find your favorite food or snack it’s like the heavens have opened and poured out their delicious goodness upon you and suddenly the whole world is sunshine and Skittles.

One foreign friend. Of course when we’re in our home country, we take “our people” for granted. Whether it’s your family or friends or your awesome co-workers or the eccentric neighbor next door who still dresses like it’s 1975 but always gives you the best popcorn tin at Christmas, we all take for granted that these are people with whom we share a common culture and similar values and ideas. When you’re transported thousands of miles from home and suddenly find yourself in a country where people spit everywhere or don’t understand the concept of punctuality, you have to have that one person who just gets it. Living abroad can be quite a trying experience at times and there is nothing quite like suffering through the adjustment to squat toilets together that creates an unshakeable bond between two people.

Being able to celebrate your faith.  One of my primary concerns when coming to China was having to go yet another year without being part of a church community.  This goes hand in hand with my previous comment, but having people around you who think and believe as you do is such a wonderful support when home is thousands of miles away.

American TV shows and movies. Imagine with me: It’s Saturday. The rain is coming down in buckets. You have nothing to do and can’t go anywhere even if you wanted to. You’ve got on your comfy sweats and didn’t even bother putting in your contacts. You’ve stockpiled a handsome amount of popcorn and chocolate. Vegging out in front of the TV for a few hours is just what the doctor ordered. You  grab some pillows, snuggle up on the couch, turn on the TV and..….you can’t understand a word that’s being said. You flip through 20 more channels with the same results. And then--there it is! English! Saturday is saved!!  You sit straight up and flip back one channel to that angelic voice, hoping for reruns of Law and Order or, heck, Gilmore Girls. The screen changes….aaand it’s CNN. Welcome to China.

A home that is (mostly) insect free. For those of you who’ve read up on my brief Honduran encounter, you know that I had quite the infestation problem in my little home there. There was literally not one room in the house where I could sit down without being disrupted by an ant or spider or roach or gecko. Being able to walk about my apartment freely without fearing who may be waiting around the corner for me does wonders for my peace of mind. Even now, every time I get up for a midnight bathroom run I give thanks that there are no large black shapes scurrying into the dark as I approach.

Fast, reliable, unrestricted internet access. I hate to admit it, but when I’m abroad I’m pretty attached to my internet connection. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, it’s my lifeline. It’s my only means of communication with everyone back home. It’s where all of my entertainment comes from (sorry, CNN). It’s my journal where I document all of my adventures. And it’s one of my few windows into what’s going on back stateside. So when the internet is down, or running incredibly sloo-o-o-wly, or my VPN is not cooperating and I’m stuck behind China’s ridiculous firewall, well I realize just how much I appreciate my seamless connection in the states.

Grocery stores within walking distance. Now this is definitely one of those things that has much more to do with moving from the country to the city than it does living abroad. In the country, grocery shopping involves getting in your car and driving to the closest Walmart or Kroger where you proceed to stock up on everything you’ll need for the next two weeks. In the city, you might go to the grocery store multiple times a week (!!) because 1) you can only haul so much back with you sans car and 2) bulk food does not fit well in a tiny apartment. As a result, I am always beyond thrilled when I find a large, well-stocked grocery store mere minutes from my flat. Having to hike up my six flights of stairs multiple times a day is workout enough and knowing that I don’t have to haul my groceries five blocks or wait ages for the bus is a HUGE blessing.

A seat on the bus. Another country girl moving to the city thing. When you’ve got a 50 minute bus ride ahead of you and it’s late and you’ve had a long day and your back hurts, there is nothing more heavenly than snagging that last seat on the bus. Who knew hard plastic chairs could be so comfortable?

A/C and/or heat. I feel like as Americans we are pretty picky about keeping all of our environments perfectly climate controlled. As soon as the first bead of sweat starts to form, on goes the A/C. And at the first chilly gust of winter wind, the heat comes on full blast. And yes, I am one of those people--I hate being too hot or too cold. Having to sweat it out in the 90 degree heat and not having that switch to flip for instant ice cold air or shivering in my uninsulated apartment with the cold tile floors and unsealed windows and doors with only one space heater to spare has shown me how much I just expect to have both of those things. Now when I am nice and toasty or cool and sweat-free, I always take a moment to appreciate it.

Family and friends who put in the effort to stay in touch. I know long distance relationships are hard. It takes a certain amount of motivation and effort to keep in contact with someone who is miles and multiple time zones away. So whenever I get an email or text or a simple “Hi, how’s China?” on Facebook--or better yet, a care package from home (gold!!)—I know that I am blessed with people who truly care about me despite the time and distance. And who are willing to sacrifice their time and money and sleep to send a little joy my way.

I am so thankful for each of these things, big and small. Most of all, though, I am thankful that I have been given these wonderful opportunities to live abroad so that I may grow into a person of gratitude who can see value where so many others may not.

HK in 2 Days

My brief trip to Hong Kong was the first time I’d left Xiamen since I arrived here almost three (!!) months ago. Trust me, it was a much needed break.

While there are certainly things I enjoy about living in China, traveling to a truly international city replete with other foreigners and plenty of English was just what I needed to put a little spring back in my step. Between the incessant staring, the trials of teaching, and the monotony of our cafeteria food, I was more than ready to hop on a fast train south to experience a little excitement. Even though the purpose of my trip was to (finally!) get my work visa, I was much more excited about the idea of shopping for American brands and eating food that wasn’t Chinese.

I set off on my mini-adventure bright and early on Thursday morning. I had not reserved a ticket for the train and was simply hoping that if I showed up early enough I would have no trouble securing one.

Getting to the station proved to be an ordeal in itself. I ended up crammed on the back of a bus and was unable to get off at my stop because my foot got caught in the door. (Figures.) I got off at the following stop and then had to run all the way back (and right through a massive mud puddle) to just barely catch the bus I needed to transfer to.

Once I got to the station, I was hoping that there would be at least some English to direct me to where I needed to go. No such luck. The ticket windows were ensconced in Chinese and I had no idea which line would get me a ticket to Shenzhen. I breathed a quick prayer and hopped in the shortest line hoping for the best. (The best being an English speaker of some level who would understand my near non-existent Chinese and frantic hand gestures.)

Thankfully, that’s pretty much what I got and ended up with a ticket leaving at 8:50 to Shenzhen.

I knew the train ride would be almost 4 hours, and once I arrived in Shenzhen I knew that I would need to take the subway to the China/Hong Kong border and then from there take another subway to Causeway Bay where my hostel and the visa office were located. Based on that information, I figured I would arrive in Causeway Bay around 2:00pm, leaving plenty of time to get to the visa office and then relax at my hostel before doing a little exploring.

After all the trips I've taken, I should’ve known better than to assume such things. As it turned out. I arrived in Causeway Bay well after 3:00pm and proceeded to get myself lost. (C’mon, Hong Kong. You need street signs at every intersection!) As the clock ticked closer to 4 o’clock (the visa office closed at 5), my panic levels skyrocketed and I began to formulate a Plan B. I decided if all else failed I could always stay and leave on Monday.

As I wandered down yet another road (without a street sign), I noticed with a wave of relief that one kindly business had posted their full address on their wall, including the street name. I was walking in the right direction!

Moments later, I raced into the visa office praying for short lines and an accommodating visa officer. Again, no such luck. There were 77 people in front of me! I grabbed my number and sank down in the frigid air conditioning to wait my turn.

As I sat there silently shivering, I noticed that there seemed to be quite a few people being turned away due to, what seemed to be, a lack of documentation. I was terrified that after traveling all the way to Hong Kong and arriving in the nick of time and after waiting for the 77 people ahead of me that I would make it to the window only to be rejected due to some minute detail I had overlooked. So every five or ten minutes, I kept taking out my visa application and reviewing it for phantom errors lurking between the lines.

My number--330--was finally called. I walked sweaty-palmed up to the window and gingerly placed my information in the tray. I was just waiting for everything to come crashing down around me.

The visa officer flipped through my passport and application and it seemed like everything was as it should be. Just as a sigh of relief started to escape my lips, she paused and my heart froze.

“I need your Hong Kong visa.” I frantically scrambled around the corners of mind trying to determine when and if I had ever acquired such a visa. Nothing came to mind.

“I—I don’t have a Hong Kong visa,” I responded nervously.

She insisted. “Your visa. I need to see your Hong Kong visa.”

Again I replied in the negative.

With a long-suffering sigh, cultivated to perfection after dealing with thousands of inept foreigners no doubt, she pointed to a small square of paper that looked exactly like the one I had been given at the Hong Kong border. It was literally barely larger than a postage stamp and I had had no idea that that insignificant little slip of nothingness was my visa. I silently thanked my lucky stars that I hadn't chucked it like I had originally planned and slid it to her under the window.

After that, everything was smooth sailing. I was told that I could pick up my visa the following day at 3pm and was sent on my way.

After having been so tightly wound since departing that morning from Xiamen, I almost didn't know what to do with myself. I literally had to take a moment in a nearby bathroom stall to keep myself from collapsing into a soggy heap of tears of relief.

But I was starving and my back ached from hauling around my backpack all day, so all of that melodramatic nonsense was quickly squelched and I was off to find food and shelter.

Happily, the rest of my time in Hong Kong was quite pleasant. It mainly involved me wandering around the area near my hostel. It was perfectly situated smack in the middle of Causeway Bay so I had easy access to all of the big stores and shopping centers like SOGO and Times Square, as well as some amazing restaurants. I took full advantage of this time to indulge in those “American” pastimes that I had been missing. Like sipping coffee at a legit coffee shop and buying my first pair of Toms. And some things less "American" like digging into a heavenly plate of Pad Thai or a steaming bowl of Japanese ramen. I even stumbled upon my favorite cookies from Australia, Tim Tams! I also managed to squeeze in a bit of sightseeing and spent Friday morning strolling around Victoria Park.

For lots more info, pics and footage of my HK experience, click the video below. And be sure to click here to check out my Facebook album as well!

(Please note: Most of the video was taken on my cell phone hence the smaller size and lower quality.)

China Ed 101

I mentioned at the end of my previous vlog that I'd had a bit of an eye-opening encounter with the Chinese educational system. I've been wanting to expound on just what I meant by that, but it's been quite the task finding a spare minute to do so. Wonderfully, we were given a random three days off from teaching for the middle school and high school's sports days.

Problem, solved.

So like I said in the video, I feel like the perception we Americans have of education in China is pretty flawed. Now, I hate to generalize, so for all of you enlightened Americans out there who already know how it all goes down in Chinatown please feel free to find other reading material.

But, if you're anything like me, you have this idea that Chinese students are an intelligent, elite super-force of academia that are soon to take over the world because, well, our pokey educational system is just not up to par.

Let's clear a few things up, shall we?

First, yes. Yes, Chinese students tend to excel in the maths and sciences. And, yes, Chinese students also tend to score high on standardized tests. But before you start converting your dollars to RMB, let's look at why this is the case.

Chinese schools seem to revolve around two things: rote memorization and the idea that more is better (my Chinese co-worker told me that we have Mao to thank for that).

Education here is about the result, not the process. Students do not learn how to learn, they learn information. They are not taught critical thinking skills or the creative application of their knowledge or abstract thinking or anything in which the information they ingest can be used outside of the framework in which it is presented to them. They learn to take in information and regurgitate the same information in the same manner.

This is why math and science are such strong subjects for them. Math involves a lot of set formulas and systems that supply you with consistent results. Math requires us to memorize things because their facts and figures are unchanging. Twelve times two will always equal twenty four. And if I ask you to memorize the twelve times table and then give you an exam to check if you know it, you'll probably ace it. (Or you'll be like 8-year-old Amanda and write all the answers on a slip of paper because, c'mon, the twelve times table is hard.)

However, if I ask you to take two unrelated objects, say a paper clip and a water bottle, and combine them to create a new object, well, that requires a completely different skill set.

This same "just memorize it" thinking applies to standardized tests. Students here really only apply themselves when they know a test is coming. If they have the SAT coming up in, say, two months, they will spend that entire two months, twelve hours a day, studying for it. Test prep books, outside lessons, practice tests, whatever it takes to get a high score. Yet there is no concern for whether any test-taking skills are actually learned in the process. The score, the result, is the only thing of importance.

Take essay writing, for example. You don't learn how to write an exam essay, you simply memorize several different essay answers and copy the same answers on the test, perhaps tweaking a few things here and there to try and make it fit whatever the question is asking of you.

One of my students summed up this whole learning fiasco quite well. I was chatting with her about her post-graduation plans and she told me that she really wanted to become an architect. She feared that she wouldn't be able to, however, because she lacked creativity. She told me, "I can copy other's work really well, I'm very good at it. But I can't think of my own ideas. I have no creativity, and I think because of that I won't be able to become an architect. Do you think maybe I could work as an assistant?"

That is the problem with Chinese education. These students may go on to be excellent engineers or scientists, but the percentage of them who will be making new discoveries or reinventing our world or starting movements is very small.

The other half of the problem is the whole "more is better" mantra of China. Students here work round the clock. Students are in their classrooms by 7.40 every morning and, depending on their grade level, they finish their evening classes and study halls at either 9.30 or 10.30 at night. They receive a two hour break in the middle of the day to eat lunch and take a quick nap and around two hours in the evening to eat dinner, take a quick shower, and perhaps get a little bit of "fun" time in. Many of these students also take additional lessons outside of school.

I privately tutor a student (not from Xiamen Yingcai) and in addition to his regular five day school week he spends Saturdays with me and a math tutor, leaving Sunday as his only "free" day, which he spends doing homework.

The result of this hectic schedule results in exhausted students who sleep in class. Like, all the time. That's actually one of the biggest issues I've faced here. These kids just can't keep their eyes open, and understandably so. I mean they make me tired just looking at them!

So, between the surface-level learning and the chronic exhaustion, the average Chinese student leaves much to be desired.

Unfortunately, this approach to education "makes sense" in a country with a population as large as China's. The government requires a system that keeps aspirations and creativity low in order to function.

Now, of course, this is my blog and these are my opinions. The whole purpose of this blog is to mark my reflections about the world as I travel through it and not dish out hard, cold facts. There are obviously Chinese students out there who don't fit this mold and who, hopefully, will go on to have a positive impact on their country and the world. And I could just as easily write a whole other entry about the plight of the American educational system.

So having said all that, what do you think, bloggies? Thoughts? Opinions? Any in adamant opposition of what I've remarked on? Any who have had similar or dissimilar experiences teaching in China? I'd love to hear from any and all of you!

Until next time...zaijian!

The Three (or Four) Things

Yes, bloggies, I've already been in China for over a month! One down, nine more to go. As past experiences have proven, these next nine months will be over much quicker than seems humanly possible.

So per my blogging tradition, I've put together a vlog to reflect upon what this experience has been like so far. Speaking eloquently is not (nor has ever been) my strong suit, but if you'd like a more personal take on my time here in China, grab a cup of tea, snuggle into your favorite chair, and enjoy the two videos posted below. :)

(Even though I tried really hard not to, I did ramble excessively. Hence, the two part video. You can look in the description box of the videos on YouTube to see exactly what I'm droning on about when, so feel free to skip around.)

Click here to check out the pictures that I refer to in the second video. There are also pictures from the lake around the Marco Polo area of Xiamen (nicknamed that because of the famous Marco Polo Hotel located there) which I did not mention in the video. 

"Beauty" and a drink: My First Chinese Dinner

Eating a meal in a foreign country is often an event, usually an experience, and almost always speaks volumes about the culture of that particular place.

Sitting down and sharing food with a group of people will generally tell you all you need to know about what a society values, the rules of social interaction, gender roles, etc. 

This past Wednesday was our "beginning of the year" staff meal. All of the teachers in the International Education department were invited by the school to have dinner at a local restaurant. I was thrilled. While I (mostly) enjoy the food in the dining hall, it can get monotonous eating there twice a day, everyday. So, yes, I got a little excited to hear that I would be eating in the "outside world" and that someone else was footing the bill.

Prior to this meal, I gleaned from Loren and Maffi that alcohol was to play a huge role at our little gathering. Apparently, business dinners do not happen sans drinking. I've heard that there is actually a Chinese saying that goes, "No social ties can be formed in the absence of alcohol." In fact, people will hire other people to drink for them at these events if they are unable to do so. Yeah, it's that important. 

After classes finished on Wednesday, all of the teachers and our superiors walked around the block (like, literally around the block) to the restaurant. The men smoked outside while we waited for everyone to gather and for the restaurant owners to prepare our tables. 

Smoking, especially for men, is very common here. It is a rarity to find a grown man who doesn't smoke. While neither the teachers or the students are supposed to smoke at school, you can often catch a whiff of cigarette smoke as you pass the boys' bathrooms during break times or after lunch.

When our entire party had gathered we were ushered upstairs to a small air-conditioned (thank goodness!) room. The men all sat at one table and the women, who were in the majority, occupied the other two. Most of the men hold higher administrative positions and are the "superiors" I mentioned earlier, but even the men who were simply teachers sat at that table. The only women "allowed" to sit there was the head of the English department, Ella, and her assistant, Sunny (the woman who hired me). I'm sure this isn't news to anyone, but there's definitely still a strong sense of male dominance in Chinese society.

We were each given our own set of flatware: a saucer, and two small bowls, and "silverware": a spoon and chopsticks. The food was delivered family-style on large platters or in large bowls, but we did not use serving spoons to pile up our plates and then eat. Instead, we would take our chopsticks, grab a bite to eat, eat said bite, and then go back in for another bite. The bowls were only used for the soups and the small plate was there simply to hold bits of bones and leftovers. My chopstick skills are quite good, but even so, it was a bit tiresome having to lean in to grab something off of a platter every time I wanted to eat. There were also a few "tricky" dishes, like the whole fish and the meat served in sauce, that refused to cooperate with my multiple chopstick attempts and forced me to grab my spoon and angrily scoop up the offending food bit.

As soon as we were seated, the food began to arrive. And it didn't stop arriving! I had no idea how many courses to expect for this dinner, but somewhere in the back of my Western-conditioned mind I was thinking: appetizer, entree, dessert. Ha! 

Thinking back now, I can't even recall each dish because there were so many. I do remember potato soup, seafood soup (with squid, mussels and shrimp), pork, shrimp, fish, chicken, noodles, mushrooms, a few different types of vegetables... I truly lost count. As soon as I was sure we had reached the end, the waitress' head would pop up over the edge of the staircase and there she would be with yet another food-laden tray while we scrambled to re-arrange platters to make more room.

In between this somewhat chaotic stream of dishes, our bosses, Mr. Gao, Mr. Tao, and Mr. Zhong, began to make their way around the room to start making toasts. Up to this point, the "womens' tables" had only been offered tea and coconut milk to drink. All of the cases of beer had been dutifully deposited at the "men's table" where they drank a few cold ones to kick off the meal. Now, they were ready to share their bounty.

The process went something like this. One of the men would come to our table. We would all stand as a sign of respect. He would make sure all of our glasses were topped off with beer before he delivered a short toast. Then we were all expected to drink. People who did not drink the entire contents of their glass were mocked and cajoled until they had done so. And then the process would begin again.

Thankfully, I wasn't the only one who wasn't fond of beer and many of the teachers, including myself, would joke and plead off drinking anymore. The men were quite persistent, though. They would call the women mei nu (pretty girl) and, for me, the English word, "beauty" to convince us to share one more drink with them. It actually turned into a bit of a competition between Mr. Gao and Mr. Zhong to see who could get the women to drink more. Mr. Gao employed a clever technique in which he toasted us each individually so that we had to drink up (as it would be incredibly impolite to refuse a direct toast from your superior!).

At the end of the night, when the dinner was winding down and people were beginning to disperse, Mr. Gao attempted to reel me in for one more round of drinking with him. "Three glasses," he told me, a huge grin on his face. "Three more glasses of beer and then we'll be finished." At this point I had already had four (?) glasses and certainly did not need another. I smiled right back and politely declined. Loren was sitting right next to him so I told him that he and Loren could compete with each other instead. Mr. Gao immediately shook his head, wide-eyed, "No, no! It's not competition, it's friendship!"

And there it was. The staunch Chinese belief that alcohol is the lubricant of relationships. 

It's one thing to read about a social custom in a guidebook or in the ramblings of an expat's blog. Or to wax poetic about cultural differences or the wonder of culture shock. But when you find yourself actually confronted with one of those moments, it always gives you pause. Here it is, you think. Here is one thing that makes this place special. That makes it different. That makes it not home. Here is one thing that makes me stop and consider their culture and my culture and evaluate just what it is that keeps our American relationships "well-oiled".  

I love having moments like these. As I mentioned months ago in one of my Ecua-blogs, often during the course of living abroad you find yourself falling into the humdrum, day-to-day rut that we all find ourselves in. You forget, Hey, I'm in China!, and you no longer stop to appreciate the fact that you are thousands of miles from home in a country and culture completely apart from your own, and there is just so much to learn and experience, and none of it should be taken for granted. 

I've decided that's going to be one of my goals this year. To constantly be mindful of those Hey! I'm in China! moments. I have a little over ten months in this beautiful country and, as Ecuador showed me, ten months is not nearly as long as we've been led to believe. 

So I'd like to end this entry with a toast. (It seems only right.) A toast to all of us, whether abroad or at home. A toast to being appreciative of where we are and who we are and where we are going and what we are learning to become. Here's to Hey! I'm ____! moments.

Cheers!

My Xiamen address

I've had several requests over the past few weeks for my address here in Xiamen and I finally have it to share. My apologies for the delay, but I wanted to verify that it was correct and that I was using the correct format. (Actually, I'm still not 100% sure this is the correct format but apparently most Chinese people aren't either and their mail seems to get sent off just fine.) All of the important information is included, though, so if you do decide to send something it should make its way to me eventually!

Amanda McCarther

Xiamen Yingcai School

No. 63 3rd North Road, Xiamen

361022 Fujian

China

Mid-autumn festival and exploring Xiamen

This past Monday was the mid-autumn festival here in China.

I know what you're all thinking.

MID-autumn?! It's not even the beginning of autumn yet.

Remember, though, China works on the lunar calendar, not the solar, and on the 15th day of the eighth month of every year, the Chinese (and Koreans and Japanese and Vietnamese) celebrate this holiday.

I can't really comment on the festival's origins or traditions since I didn't really partake in any. But I'll include a link here so that you can read up on it if you're interested.

The two things that I did do was eat moon-cakes and play bobing, also know as "moon-cake gambling." The interesting thing is that we teachers actually played bobing at the school on the last day of class before the holiday. Apparently, gambling on school property is not frowned upon. And what's more, the school actually gave out cash prizes to the winners! I wound up with 40RMB, Maffi won 30RMB, and Loren was the big winner with 100RMB. We were also all given a cash "bonus" for the holiday as well.

I purchased the mooncakes at one of the local grocery stores. Mooncakes come in all shapes, sizes, and flavors so I chose chocolate, sweet potato, and jasmine tea. Traditionally, mooncakes have egg yolk in the middle to symbolize the moon. In the pictures below (of my chocolate mooncake) you can see the little bit of yellow peeking out.

We foreign teachers decided a better way to celebrate our three day holiday from school would be to explore the south of the island.

Now, Xiamen is an island, but there are also parts of Xiamen located on the mainland and that's where I live. All of the touristy spots, however, are on the island and Maffi and Loren assured me that the south of the island was the place to be.

So on Sunday morning we hopped on bus 946 and took a quick 30 minute ride south. It was a gorgeous, sweltering, 90 degree day. Perfect for sightseeing--and regular bouts of heat exhaustion. 

We began our excursion at "Little Taiwan" where we perused the seemingly endless alleyway of wall to wall food and fruit stalls. The majority of the vendors catered to seafood lovers and I saw everything from lobsters to octopus tentacles to whole fried squids. There was also more traditional fare like dumplings and ice cream. I was completely overwhelmed with the array of sights and smells that seemed to float from every direction. I was definitely ready for a snack after our little bus ride but every time I was sure that I had seen the most delicious thing to eat and was ready to buy, my eye caught something else. The end result being that I made it down the entire alleyway without making a single purchase.

Yes. Those are octopus tentacles. On a stick.

I think I could get a week of meals out of one of those bad boys.

We left Little Taiwan for Zhong Shan Lu which is the "walking street" of Xiamen (appropriately called that because it's a pedestrians-only street). There we found an eclectic blend of restaurants, cafes, clothing stores, jewelry stores, food marts and, of course, WalMart. The brands ranged from  obscure, foreign companies I'd never heard of to things like Nike and Sephora. Along the way there were also a few stages set up for televised events to advertise different products.

Occasionally, we would come across an employee standing at the entrance to a store loudly clapping their hands at the passersby. In answer to my questioning look, Loren explained that the "clappers" were used to attract people's attentions and draw customers into the store. Ever the actor, I had to restrain myself from bowing or curtsying as we walked by our clearly adoring audiences.

Along "walking street," Loren found a small food stall that he had visited before which made exquisite spring rolls for 3.5RMB (about 57 cents). With our hunger satisfied we opted for another short bus ride that would take us closer to the beach.

Before rushing off to the sand and waves, we visited the Nanputuo temple, a gorgeous religious complex full of shrines, statues and exquisitely designed buildings. I know I've been in China for almost two weeks but aside from the language barrier and the people it hadn't really hit me that I was in China until I saw the entryway to the temple. 

Here at last was the China that we see in the movies and drool over in the guidebooks. Here was the quintessential image of the East that's been firmly stamped in our minds since we were kids. Finally, finally, I had made it to that fantasized version of China. 

The grounds of the temple are extensive and due to the heat we only explored a small portion of it. Still, what we did see was breathtaking. Unlike some temples, this one allowed photography and I wandered around snapping shots of the architecture and of the devout paying obeisance to the array of gods perched behind glass panes or sequestered away in candlelit alcoves. 

We did wander a little ways up the mountainside and came across a small shrine tucked away in a small cave. Here people (or perhaps the monks?) had left statues that apparently had continued to grow into a collection over the years. 

(apologies for the poor quality--it was really dark in there!)

The main building of the temple actually involves a hike up the mountainside so, with a promise to return in the cooler month of November, we contented ourselves with the ground level buildings and then went off in search of lunch. 

One of the biggest problems I've faced so far in China is the simple fact that I can't read anything! So something as simple as finding a place to eat can be quite difficult. Especially if the entire menu is in Chinese and has no pictures. So the two things we usually look for when scoping out a restaurant is 1) whether they have menus with pictures and 2) whether or not the restaurant is full. A busy restaurant is typically a good restaurant and a safe bet for a meal.

After wandering up and down a few streets we came across a small place that seemed to match our criteria so we sat down and hoped for the best. We were pleasantly surprised. For less than $2.50, I wound up with a heaping plate of exceptional beef and noodles!

The last leg of our trip was a brisk walk from the restaurant to the seaside. Check that. It was 90 degrees so it was more like a slow, perspiring shuffle. Regardless, we made it in about ten minutes and gratefully plopped down in the sand under the shade of the overpass. 

Since I've been spoiled by Australian beaches, I've got pretty high standards for them. This one ranked somewhere in the middle. It was mostly clean and the sand was soft and smooth. The water temperature was warm enough that I didn't let out my customary squeal, but not so warm that it wasn't refreshing. However, the water was pretty muddy and I could feel a fair amount of sediment and other "sea bits" rummaging between my toes as I waded around. Loren assured me that the "good" beaches were further along the coast so more exploration is in order. But until then, I can certainly content myself with this one. The ocean is the ocean and it still mesmerizes me wherever I am.

Per Chinese culture there were very few people actually in the water or out in the sun. Here the ocean is just something to look at or briefly stroll next to. Sunbathing is very uncommon since the Chinese prefer to keep their skin light. I had expected people to show up with swim gear and sunscreen and instead I found myself smiling at the primly dressed women in their frilly sundresses trying to make their way across the sand in high heels. (Yes. High heels! They wouldn't even take them off at the beach. Did I mention that Chinese people are obsessed with height? Here tall is beautiful and it is rare to see a woman walking around without a heel, wedge or platform of some kind on her feet, regardless of what she's doing. They'll even go hiking in them!!)

Our day concluded back on "walking street" where I found some delicious fruit sorbet to top off the afternoon. All in all, it was a relaxing and informative excursion and seeing as south Xiamen is only 30 minutes away, there will be countless more trips there throughout the year.

If you'd like to see all of the pictures from my trip, just click here!