Rules of the Road

Lyndsey’s Strange-but-true Sightings:

1. I have tried a plethora of new, weird foods: pig feet, pig ear, pig face (technically, slices from the cheek), spicy duck neck/throat, and duck intestine.
2. I am convinced the TV show “Ugly Betty” is slowly taking over the world. It started off as a Spanish comedy/soap opera and became so popular that America created its own version. Not too long ago I turned on the TV and started flipping channels (there’s not much I understand, so I do a lot of flipping) and started to tune into one of China’s many, many, many soap operas. The more and more I watched, I started to think, hey…this looks strangely like “Ugly Betty.” After some internet snooping I discovered, sure enough, China has launched its own version of the TV show. Go figure.
3. When some friends and I were going to see a movie, we had to pass through a wee bit sketchy hutong (old fashioned courtyard-style Chinese houses) district. In one of the alleys, I spotted a man with an outdoor grill cooking meat kabobs. The weird part? Not only was he using the grill, he was also using a hairdryer. Yup. Picture a guy, in the middle of the night, hunched over a couple of burning coals and kabobs and frantically waving a hairdryer. Yea, your guess is as good as mine on that one.
4. I’ve quickly learned that coffee has quite a different value to the Chinese than it does to Americans. For Americans, coffee is to the brain as jumper cables are to a dead car battery. It’s liquid productivity with a frothy foam on top, and the morning is going to be hell unless you pump your system full of the slow roasted power juice. The Chinese, on the other hand see coffee as a luxury drink, kind of like how Americans see hot chocolate. It’s not essential, but it tastes good and so they’ll buy it every once in a while. This mentality is perfectly manifested in the Chinese Starbucks. Xingbake, as it’s known here, doesn’t quite carry the same significance in China as it does back home. Every day I have to pass by one on the way to school, and every morning it’s never open. Want to guess when they finally start serving? 10:00 AM. Yes, you heard me right. TEN O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING. Now, Indiana isn’t exactly the business hub, but even still the Starbucks there open around 6:00/6:30 and I almost always see people waiting to get in before the building is even unlocked. When I tried to imagine what would happen if an American Starbucks decided not to open until 10:00 AM, this is what I visualized: An angry, caffeine-deprived mob of tailored suit-wearing businessmen clawing at the windows and screaming as they try to break the glass with their briefcases. A stretch of the imagination? No, no not really.
5. One day I came home early and as I was putting my stuff down in my room, I heard my grandmother shout, “Xiao Gao, Xiao Gao! Lai lai lai lai lai!!!” (“Lyndsey, Lyndsey! Come here! Come here! Come here!). So, I shuffled my way into the kitchen and there was my grandma, giving me a big smile, holding a toothbrush in one hand and waving a live crab in the other. “Look what we’re having for dinner tonight!” Um, wow, it’s so…alive. When I moved closer I saw our entire sink was full of distraught, skittering crabs. Just when I was trying to figure out where the toothbrush entered in this picture, my grandma turned on the water and began scrubbing all the crabs…with the toothbrush. “I need to clean them.” But you don’t eat the shell. “Do you want to be served a dirty crab?” Touché, grandma. After chasing after the few that managed to climb out of the sink and make a dash for freedom, all the crabs were promptly thrown into a steamer, and 20 minutes later served on the table. They were delicious, but I’ll admit it was a little weird eating something I had just seen scurrying around on the counter.

I’m going to have to rush this blog entry since three big things are coming up: 1) Today at 5:00 I leave to go on a “mobile classroom” long-weekend field trip to Pingyao, an ancient Chinese city. 2) Midterms are going to hit full force next week. 3) Did you really think I’d forget about Halloween? Psh, as if. In any case, I know it’ll be busy, so I wanted to give you all something even if it’s fast. I don’t have enough time to go into China’s minority issue today, so instead I’ll talk a bit about the traffic here in Beijing. Again, this has been a rush post so excuse any grammar or spelling errors.

I’ll admit it, the Olympics spoiled me. In an effort to clean up (literally), its image a new, temporarily law was passed in Beijing. To give environment a power-boost, the city’s traffic would be cut in half. On odd numbered days cars with a license plate ending in an odd number were allowed to be on the road, even numbered days were reserved for cars with even numbered license plates. Anyone who drove on the wrong day would get a hefty fine. It caused a lot of bickering and grumbling among the Beijingers, but it was paradise for a foreigner. The streets were eerily quiet, the cars never got into traffic jams, and taking busses was a breeze. For those of you who have Facebook, you can find a picture of me online posing in the middle of a street, just because I could. By the time I came back from the Silk Road trip, the Olympic fanfare was long gone and the monster that is Beijing traffic came back in full force.
When I mentioned earlier that by the end of the year I’d be the human equivalent of “Frogger,” I meant it. Crossing the road in Beijing can be a life or death scenario. I found this out the first day I tried to go to school after the Silk Road trip. I turned on my iPod, meandered my way out of the apartment, stepped off the curb, and almost got plastered by two cars. Needless to say, pedestrians do NOT have the right-of-way here in China. Those white stripes on the road and the flashing crossing signals are viewed as nothing more than street décor, and if you are in the way, the cars will NOT stop. They’ll turn right into you, and wait until the front bumper is within maybe four inches of your shin before they slam on the brakes and honk like mad (yes, I know this from experience). U-turns happen just about anywhere, too. In the center of a four-way crossing, in the middle of a road…if there’s enough room, it’s all good. What does this mean for the helpless pedestrian? It means even if you manage to dodge death the first time, the same car can quickly swing around and try to kill you again (again, I know this from experience). Oh, and let’s talk about the horns. Have you ever met someone that swears so much that after a while, profanity just doesn’t seem to carry any meaning or shock at all anymore? That’s what horns are like in China. Honking is done so much and for such menial reasons that it’s nothing but background noise. Usually, the honking is directed at the pedestrians. Sometimes, it has a purpose. My life has been saved a couple of times because someone honked out a warning call that death was near unless I hustled NOW. Other times, and for that matter, most times, I fail to see the point. If you are within three feet of the curb and have even the potential of crossing the road, you will get honked at. No joke, once I was standing perfectly still at a corner, maybe a good 3-4 feet away from the curb, when traffic suddenly picked up. I had no intention of crossing, but as I looked into traffic I made eye contact with a driver. He could clearly see I wasn’t going anywhere, yet just when he was starting to pass me there he went, slamming on the horn. Now, by that point unless I had launched myself in the air Superman-style, there was no possible way I was going to get hit. That’s Beijing traffic for you. So, how does one survive? I’ve developed two amazing tactics which should allow you to survive. 1) Only go halfway. Don’t be macho and try to sprint across the entire street. Wait for a gap in traffic and sprint for the dividing line. After perching there for a while (and getting honked at continuously), find another gap and make it the rest of the way. 2) When they go, you go. A good strategy is to find yourself a sturdy looking Chinese person and stick to them like glue. Essentially, mooch off of their traffic dodging skills and let them do the work for you. And hey, if you still get hit, at least you’ll have the satisfaction of making a bigger dent in the car.

Now let’s move on to public transportation. Back in Pittsburgh, I’m a public bus junkie. I take them everywhere and find them to be very convenient. Not so now. Beijing busses are the bane of my existence. When the Olympics were still going on, I thought they were great and decided not to buy a bicycle. Bad choice. Once the traffic came back, the busses became a nightmare. First of all, there is no regularity. The busses come when the spirit moves them, not according to a fixed schedule. I’ve seen three busses of the same line arrive at a stop all at once, and never appear again. I have to take two to get to school. To get to my first stop is easy because I can take one of five different busses. To get to my second stop, however, is horrible. I have to take #394, which, for all of my CMU friends, makes the Pittsburgh 59U on a Sunday look heavenly. Worse still, when I have to use the busses always coincides with Beijing rush hour. At rush hour not only are the streets packed with every sort of vehicle, but also the busses are packed full of people. It makes a sardine can look spacious. I’ve seen busses get so packed that limbs are sticking out of the doors and windows. And, unfortunately, I’ve been in such busses. The amazing thing is the Chinese have figured out a way to still facilitate movement inside the bus itself. The way the busses work is that there is one door you enter and one door you exit. If you want to get off, you have to get to the other side. This usually involves a lot of squeezing, wiggling, shoving, and pushing to get to the other side. I’ve even seen people use the hand bars like monkey bars and climb over seats in order to make it. At first I was a bit timid and was afraid to be so forceful, but then I realized how awful it is to miss your stop. Bus stops in China aren’t the same as they are in the US. I know in Pittsburgh if you miss your stop, it’s no big deal because you can just walk back one or two blocks and everything is fine. Not so in Beijing. You miss your stop, you’re looking at a good 15 minute hike at least. Not fun, especially when you’re trying to get to school on time. So when your stop is coming up, forget your manners and MOVE. I am a little ashamed to say once I had to take out an old man, but hey, he had it comin’. I was polite at first. I said “excuse me,” made eye contact, gently tapped him on the shoulder, made it clear I needed to get off the bus…no go. Well, fine then. You asked for it, buddy. I wedged my arms between him and the next person and opened up my arm span in a jaws-of-life motion, thereby plastering the two people against the windows and creating a nice, lovely open path. I made it to the door just in time. Another time I was a little too ambitious with my bolt towards the door and my plan backfired on me. I managed to perch myself in what I thought was the optimal spot, right on the stairs between the door and the railing. I had forgotten that the doors don’t open out like a door in a building; instead they fold in, like a screen. So, the door hit me on my right side and slid between me and my backpack. That shoved me over and caused the railing to slip between me and my backpack on my left side. I was trapped. Two Chinese men had to pull me out, and I managed to pop out of my public-transport-prison just in time to squeeze between the doors and fall face-flat onto my stop.

Pictures should be coming soon, guys! For those of you with Facebook, you can check out all of the albums I’ve created. For those of you that are Facebook deprived, I promise I’ll post a link soon. Until next time!

The Voyager Returns (Late...)!

好久不见 (Long time no see)! Ok, I know I’m WAY overdue with updating the blog, so let me attempt to give a plausible excuse: when I got back from the Silk Road trip, I was just too exhausted to write about all that I had done. Once I got a breather and was ready to type, I got pounded by school work: a 300 character essay, a Chinese test, a 15 minute Chinese presentation, a history paper, research, and government and Chinese quizzes. Oh yea, and homework.

So, without further adieu, THE MAGNIFICENTLY AWESOME SILK ROAD TRIP:

For those of you who don’t know, the Silk Road is not a “road” per se, but rather is a very ancient and extensive network of trade routes that stretches across Asia and into regions as far as Europe and Africa. These routes would be used by pilgrims, monks, travelers, and especially traders to travel all across the world. Trade was the primary purpose of the Silk Road, and it was one of the key ways silk, precious gems, and other goods were transferred from China to the Mediterranean region. Due to the high volume of trade that passed over this area, many of the ancient great civilizations (i.e.: Rome, Egypt, Byzantium, India, and, yes, China) owe their prosperity in part to this route. Not surprisingly, the road itself is HUGE; it extends over 5,000 miles.

While it would be impossible to travel over the entirety of the Silk Road in just 10 days (especially since the road doesn’t just lie in China), we did visit some of the most prominent spots. I’ll give you all a highlight of each stop, the adventures I had there, and some of the more bizarre moments I experienced (not surprisingly, there are many…):

First stop: Xian:

Well, it wouldn’t be a worthwhile visit to Xian if we didn’t see the immensely famous Terracotta Warriors. I had had the opportunity to see the warriors in 2002 when I traveled to China with my family, so I wasn’t as excited as some of the other students. Nevertheless, I absolutely loved seeing them again. First of all, you really have to admire how bad ass Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi was. It takes a lot of balls to order people to make over 8,000 clay soldiers, not to mention horses and chariots as well, just for your grave. It’s even more overwhelming to realize that every warrior’s face is different, each is life-size, and that back in the day they were also painted.

By far my favorite activity in Beijing was biking on top of the ancient city wall. Back when Xian was the capital city of China, the wall marked the city’s borders. Now, of course, the city has expanded considerably, but the wall still remains. It’s shaped like a bit square and is about 8 miles long in total. I both dreaded and looked forward to biking along the wall. On one hand, it sounded extremely fun, but on the other hand, I don’t think I’ve ridden a bike seriously since I was 8 years old. Plus, it’s an ancient wall, meaning there would be cobblestones and potholes everywhere. Relax, I told myself, just enjoy the ride, don’t push yourself too hard, don’t worry about keeping up with the others; just have nice easy ride and enjoy the scenery. And that’s exactly what I did…at first. About halfway along the first leg of the square I stopped to have a water break and take some photos, but soon afterwards I continued riding. Now, have you ever been driving and noticed that a particular car stays with you for a while, or perhaps seems to be going the same place you are? Well, pretty soon I noticed a man riding fairly close to me. He was middle aged, a bit overweight, and clearly a businessman – if he had had a jacket on, he would have been wearing a suit. I took no notice of him, but after a while I noticed something strange. Whenever I got close to him, he’d glance at me sharply, huff and puff, and speed ahead a bit. Gradually he’d drift back, see me again, and the process would continue. I wondered why the guy was acting so strangely when suddenly the light bulb went off. There I was, a little white girl from the US who obviously couldn’t ride a bike too well, keeping up with an older Chinese man, who probably rode bikes quite often. He didn’t want to lose face to me. “Saving face” is a really big part of Chinese culture, and is also a little hard for foreigners to understand. Essentially it means that a person never looks embarrassed, especially in public. Now, the open-minded, culturally sensitive side of me should have backed off and let the man ride away. Unfortunately, there’s also a very competitive side to me and when it is sufficiently prodded, it gets vicious. So instead, my reaction was something along the lines of, OH HELLS NO, CHINAMAN! IT IS ON! BRING IT!!! From then on out, it was a race. I knew it and he knew it. I was determined not to let him win and to never let him get more than two bike lengths ahead of me. To keep the motivation going, I went into “Culver crew mode” – I envisioned Mr. Weaser screaming at me and had my coxin, Ellie Cook, yelling for “power tens.” By the last leg of the square, we were both peddling as hard and as fast as we could. I whizzed past all of the students who had been the first to race off on their bikes and, to my great chagrin, creamed my Chinese competitor. However, my victory was short live. My body, and I mean my ENTIRE body, caved in. I don’t think I’ve ever felt a sensation like that before. It’s like it wasn’t even mine anymore. I couldn’t move, I could just barely dismount my bike, and I felt like I was going to be sick. Well, I had just raced 8-miles, so I guess that’s to be expected. So much for my easy ride.

That night I somehow summoned the energy to go out for a bit. First we went to a fountain show, which didn’t go quite as planned. Right when it was getting good, a fight erupted right in front of me. I have no idea how it started or why, but before I knew it these two couples were clawing and grabbing and rolling on the ground. Really, it was a pansy fight – no one really made any serious move against the other – but I still had no desire to get caught in the middle. As I climbed up onto a platform, I saw the small daughter of one of the fighters start to drift towards the conflict. Before she could move another inch, I swooped out and grabbed her. Hey, who says I can’t be maternal? When it was all over with, the father – his shirt nothing but shreds – snatched the girl, gave me a quick thank you, and stormed off.

Next, I went to a nightclub with some of the other students. It was called 1 + 1 and it was…interesting. We had a great time dancing and soaking up the rather peculiar Chinese nightlife culture. Dancing was especially interesting. Apparently in China the hip way to dance is to dance as if you just came out of an *NSYNC music video. No, I’m not joking. We watched in stunned silence as a pack of young Chinese men busted out their awkward, suspiciously choreographed, and unbelievably cheesy moves. For those of you who are less familiar with the darkness that is America’s Boy Band Era, I suggest watching a snippet from this *NSYNC music video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2pYAPisHsck&feature=related. It’s a little painful to watch, but at least you’ll understand what I’m talking about. Something else that caught our attention was the club’s go-go girls. When they first came on stage, I took one look at them and thought, well crap, this place has strippers. Thankfully the clothes, though skimpy, stayed on. Instead, they did this sort of…posing thing-a-ma-jig. They just sort of froofed and pranced around to pop songs and then skipped off stage, only to return an hour later with a different act. My particular favorite was the first act. After all, nothing quite says “authoritarian government” quite like four go-go girls in tight, pleather and lace police bikinis posing with machine guns pointed at the audience. King’s to you, China.

Second stop – Xining and Qinghai Lake

By this point, the urban, modern cities were long gone. From then on out, we would start to rough it. The Qinghai province proved to be quite different than what we were expecting. It was full of low sandy mountains and brush covered ground and all in all sort of resembles a colder and a bit greener version of Arizona. After visiting Qinghai Lake, we spent the night in a nearby hotel. The best part was at night. Since we were all freezing, we were thrilled to hear that at 8:30 there would be a bonfire. It turned out to not just be a bonfire, but rather a whole cultural performance. We saw Tibetan singers and dancers perform onstage, and on the spur of the moment we decided to showcase our culture as well. One of the students brought a guitar and sang for a bit, and some others (myself included) hoped onstage and danced. Soon it became a free-for-all and we were all dancing on stage and around the fire. I learned some traditional dances; we taught them the Cotton Eyed Joe line dance and the Electric Slide.

The next day we traveled to the other side of the lake to stay a night with a Tibetan home stay. All 25 of us stayed in a large, traditional Tibetan courtyard home that was absolutely beautiful. The head of the family was an artist who specialized in making Buddhist thangka (pronounced “tanka”) paintings. They were beautiful, elaborate religious images painted onto wall scrolls that apparently took months to make. He was a very famous thangka painter, and monks traveled from all over the province to buy his art. My favorite part of the house was their security system, which consisted of a small, fluffy white dog that lived permanently on the roof. No, it was not a pet. It was not played with or coddled; its job was to guard the house and sound the alarm if anything unusual happened. Needless to say it went crazy when we arrived. When I went out to brush my teeth at night, it would follow me along the rooftop, barking like mad.

Third stop – Dun Huang

I woke up on the overnight train to see that the landscape had completely changed. Instead of the rolling mountain range and flat ground, I saw sand dunes and desert. Actually, it was the Gobi Desert. For several hours that day, the Gobi became our playground. We went to an amusement park-like area, which was appropriately nicknamed “Dun Huang Disneyland,” and had a fantastic time. I sledded down the dunes on a bamboo toboggan, rode a camel, and even took a hang glider and flew over the desert. That night we all went to a night market, which was a series of food and trinket stands that only opened after 6:00. Of course I bought all kinds of goodies. We also visited Mogao Caves, which consisted of over 492 temples carved into the rock. Each housed Buddhist artwork that spanned over 1,000 years. There were beautiful statues, elaborate paintings, and all kinds of altars and shrines. Each was incredibly intricate and beautiful. The Mogao Caves is also home to one of the oldest pieces of literature of the world - a scroll dating back to 400 BC that is an original source for all kinds of Taoist, Buddhist, and Confucian works. What stole the show, though, was the most famous cave which housed the third largest Buddha in the world. It was HUGE. Unfortunately, since it was a holy site no pictures were allowed, so you’ll just have to trust me when I say the thing was amazing.

Fourth stop – Turpan

Turpan was a busy stop for us. First we visited the Flaming Mountains, a series of mountains famous for its role in the classic Chinese tale “Journey to the West.” To summarize the story, the Monkey King climbs to heaven and causes all sorts of mischief with the gods, upon which he is cast out of heaven and thrown into a mountain. The entire mountain is set on fire in the process, hence the name “Flaming Mountains.” After that unfortunate incident, the Monkey King has to live inside the mountain for 500 years until a Buddhist priest releases him. From then on, the Monkey King serves as the monk’s guide. The story sounds really interesting, but the mountain drew my attention far more than the legend did. It was so beautiful. It was a cyan red color and with the way that the rock was structured it looked like cascading water. Of course we had to climb it. Oh my Lord was it difficult. I don’t think I’ve ever climbed something so steep in my entire life, and the ground turned out to be packed sand, not rock. So, as you climbed upwards, the ground would always give out and you would sink or slide down. In the end, we couldn’t make it to the top, but the view was still fantastic and we all felt it was worth it.

Next we went to Jiaohe City, one of the oldest clay cities surviving in the world. I felt like I had walked into “Star Wars” and landed on Tatooine. Without a doubt, Obiwan was going to pop out any moment, wave his hands around, and chant, “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for…” No Jedis showed, but we saw all kinds of amazing sights. It was incredible to think that a city with a history of 2,000 years could still be standing, especially since it was only made out of dirt and clay.

Fifth stop – Kanas

After Turpan we had to do a lot of travelling. We flew to Altai, drove to Bur’jin, and then first thing the next morning we took a 6 hour bus drive to Kanas. Kanas was GORGEOUS. I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. It didn’t look like anything I thought China would be like. In fact, it more closely resembled Colorado than anything else. There were tall mountains with big snowy peaks, a huge lake (Kanas Lake) that was so clear and blue some of the students foolishly though it was dyed, and big forests full of birch trees turning orange and yellow. We climbed one of the smaller mountain peaks by the lake, which wasn’t so bad since a bus took us two thirds of the way up. At the top, if I looked to my left I could see Kazakhstan, and if I looked to my right I could see Mongolia and Russia. The hike down was painful. There was no bus this time, and we had to go down a never ending staircase. By the time we FINALLY reached the bottom, all of our legs were spasming.

Sixth stop – Hemu

We spent the longest time in Hemu, meaning we got a great feel for the village and the people who lived there. In order to get there from Kanas, we rode horses….for six hours. I loved it. I lucked out and got a fantastic horse, one that wasn’t your stereotypical broken trail pony. She loved to go fast, but unfortunately our guide was determined to make sure that the Americans didn’t do anything stupid and get themselves hurt. I’ve seen plenty of people act like idiots on horses so I understand where he was coming from, but the land was beautiful and we were in CHINA for crying out loud. Live a little! So, when he wasn’t looking, some of us “accidentally” lost control and galloped off. My God it was so much fun. Really there’s nothing better than racing on horseback across the fields of China belting John Denver’s “Country Roads” at the top of your lungs.

Hemu, although small, was a really fascinating little place and was definitely one of my favorite spots on the whole trip. The village is so ethnically diverse – besides Han Chinese (the largest ethnic group in all of China), there are also Mongolians, Kazaks, Tuvans, Hui Muslims, and Uyghurs. I really loved getting to know the native people. One day we were able to have a dinner in a Tuvan home. We all ate delicious food, drank the famous naijiu (milk alcohol), and even got to see the family members showcase the local music by singing Mongolian, Kazak, and Tuvan ballads and playing guitar. Since they had never heard American music before, we responded by singing “Lean on Me.” Another day we got to have a soccer match with a bunch of Tuvan schoolchildren. We did lose 0-1, but it was a tough match and both sides definitely bent the rules of soccer. Yes, we’re all cheaters. A funny moment was when the school tested their sound system by blasting an old record of the PRC’s national anthem. Let me tell you, there’s nothing more symbolic than a bunch of American teenagers and Chinese minority children running around with the CCP’s anthem chiming in the background. There was also an amazingly cool Uyghur family that owned a bread and meat store that we all loved. When I visited them, they danced with me, served me naicha (milk tea), sang, and also let me have some of their bread. BEST BREAD IN THE WORLD. Some students got to actually help them bake a bit, and others went dancing with them late at night. Want to know how much they liked us? They slaughtered two goats for us. Yea.

My second day in Hemu we had a really cool project. We had to go out and interview one of the townspeople and ask them about their life. I set off with a small group and found an elderly store owner. He was extremely kind and let us come in out of the cold and sit in his home/shop. We learned so much about him. When he was around 20 years old, the Cultural Revolution relocated him from Southern China to Hemu village. Can you imagine having to go from the South, which is known for its hot humid weather, to freezing Hemu? He told us about tourism in the village, what he thought of it, and his life in general. He also tried to sell us his wife’s hat, for some reason.

After the project we had tons of free time, so I decided to go off and explore. Although my body was still sore from the previous day’s ride, I decided it would be best to rent a horse again. When I explained that no, the slight rain and sleet didn’t bother me, and no, I did not want a guide, I got some really strange looks. After some fancy footwork, I managed to convince the owner to let me rent a horse and go off by myself without a guide. Two strategies proved to work in my favor. One, apparently Indiana is known in China to be nothing but rolling farmland, so the Chinese assume all Hoosiers are expert riders. Second, I told a little white lie and claimed I had been riding for 10 consecutive years. Actually I’ve only been riding horses for six years, and I haven’t ridden since my freshman year in high school. In any case, I rode out of town and followed the road along the river and towards the mountains. Eventually I decided to be more adventurous and steer off the path and go through the woods. Now, on further reflection, that was a bit stupid. My cell phone was practically dead, and my sense of direction is limited to reading maps; I suck at recognizing landmarks. So riding through a forest where all of the trees look the same? Erm…whoops. Don’t worry, nothing happened :). I rode through the woods and over a big, steep hill to find an open grassy plain on the other side. There were several cows pasturing and I even saw a big eagle hunting among the grass. As the fog cleared, I saw a series of maybe eight houses perched on top of another hill. I was curious, so I decided to ride up and explore a bit. As soon as I rode through the gate and hopped off my horse, I was greeted by a Kazak woman. She said I could rest a while and took me into her home. There I met four other women – three elderly and one other that was middle aged. I discovered only one could speak Mandarin, but they still wanted me to sit down at their table and chat and eat. I had some naicha and asked them about their life and talked a bit about mine. I was the first American they had ever seen. I spent quite a while there, but eventually I had to leave. I didn’t want to get stranded in the woods in the dark. So I said my goodbyes and gave each of the two younger women a ring that I had been wearing to say thank you. The experience was really moving. I couldn’t believe how generous they were. After all, they certainly were far from rich, yet they had welcomed a random stranger into their home and let me have some of their food. It also gave me a great insight into the local life. Plus, I’d like to think I taught them a bit about where I come from, too.

The next day my body was really sore, but I went riding one more time. I knew I’d never return to Hemu again, so I might as well destroy my body and live a little. Stiles, my RA, and I each took a horse and went riding. We explored some of the plateaus and hills, raced along the river, and chatted with some of the Chinese tourists that were visiting the area. They thought we were quite the photo opportunity. After all, there’s nothing quite as stereotypical as the “American cowboy,” and two white girls galloping along on horseback sort of meets that image.

Seventh stop – Bur’jin

To get back to Beijing, we had to return to Altai, a major city in the Xinjiang province. However, we still had some stops along the way to make the journey interesting. We revisited Bur’jin and spent some more time there. The highlight was the night market. I got to try a fanfare of local food, including roasted dogfish and sheep intestine/stomach lining/sweet meat soup. Both were delicious.

Eighth stop – Urumqi

We were all happy we got to revisit Urumqi and spend a full day there. Urumqi is the capital of the Xinjiang province and the city seems more Middle Eastern than Chinese. It is also heavily populated by Uyghurs, giving it the ethnic diversity that I really miss seeing in the USA. Uyghurs don’t look like Han Chinese at all. They’re usually tall, the women are very slender, and they have hazelnut or toffee skin. Their eyes are round, not really almond, and dark brown. They also have thick dark brown hair and softer faces. All in all, they resemble Arabs. All of us spent the entire day at the city’s Grand Bazaar, a large city square with all kinds of markets and stores. The place was riddled with pomegranate vendors, and I got a bottle of freshly squeezed juice for only 5 yuan. That’s roughly 70 cents. Compare that with the price of America’s POM company juice, and you’ll realize why I was so happy. There were also lots of traditional medicine stands, which were fascinating to look at. I saw reindeer horn shavings, dried lizards and snakes, fruits, nuts, spices, gourds, dried hedgehogs, antlers, dried flowers…it was amazing. The bazaar also had some performances going, so we got to watch drummers, dancers, and even a tightrope walker.

Ninth stop – Altai

We really didn’t visit Altai, but the airport experience is definitely worth mentioning. When we were in Urumqi, we found several stands selling small, ornate knives that were absolutely beautiful. Several students bought them and I ended up purchasing one too. Now, we all put them in our CHECKED bags. CHECKED. So there we all were at the front desk giving the attendants our baggage with plenty of time to spare; we had arrived almost two hours early. I watched Alex send his bag through with four knives inside. No problems. I watched Stiles send her bag through with two knives inside. No problems. When it was my turn, the man watching the bags on the scanning screen went off duty and a complete hard ass took his spot. As I walked away from the counter I heard a strong, “Miss, do you have a KNIFE in your bag?” I turned around and saw this man staring sternly at me, my duffle bag lying on a table. I answered honestly, upon which I was told, “Ma’am, I have to right to confiscate ALL knives. You have to take it out and leave it here.” Pardon? But, but, but…two of my friends went through with knives in their bags and there were no problems. “Well, I wasn’t here and I didn’t catch them. You have to take it out.” But, but, but...it’s in my checked bag. I can’t stab someone if it’s in my checked bag. It shouldn’t be a problem. “I have the right to take your knife, miss. Now take it out.” Fine. So I made a big show of pretending to take the knife out of the bag, only to slip it further into my t-shirt bundle. No go. Two seconds later my bag was back on the table. “Ma’am, you still have the knife in the bag. Take it out. Now.” That’s when my teacher got involved. Liu Laoshi tried to plead my case with me, and between the two of us we shouted, whined, and begged the best we could, but the man was like a brick wall. “I HAVE THE RIGHT TO TAKE ALL KNIVES AND THAT’S FINAL.” I finally realized there was no hope so I gave in and took out the knife (I should also note that it wasn’t even as big as a Bic pen. It's not like I was trying to smuggle in a Machete). But that was just the beginning of our troubles. From then on out, he checked every…single…suitcase, whether or not they had a knife. He dumped out students’ bags, shuffled through their toiletries, confiscated one of my teacher’s alarm clocks because it “could be bomb material,” and even tried to snatch a student’s camera battery charger (“It’s suspicious!!!”). It was completely ridiculous, and before long all of us, students and teachers alike, were screaming bloody murder and swearing profusely. The man continued to move like a snail, even though at this point we had only five minutes before our plane boarded. One of my teachers, Liu Laoshi, who normally is the most adorable, cute woman you'll ever meet, got so verbal that the man had to declare, “WOMAN I DO HAVE THE RIGHT TO ARREST YOU!!!” I should also note that all of this was in Chinese, which made the whole thing even more dramatic. After giving up a host of small daggers, we were finally able to sprint through security and make it to our gate.

We were lucky; our flight was to be delayed for two hours due to China’s space launch. In the Gansu province, a rocket was launched carrying four Chinese astronauts. Any plane that was scheduled to fly over the province was grounded until after the launch was done. We got to watch the takeoff on TV, and two days later I was able to see China’s first spacewalk with my host family.

I know this blog entry has been incredibly long, but really this is just the surface of all that I experienced on the Silk Road trip. I saw so much of China, and I don’t just mean in a geographic sense. I saw people who were technically “Chinese,” but who were completely different ethnic and culture wise. I saw some of China’s most pressing social issues play out in real life experiences, and sometimes I even felt them myself firsthand. I saw amazing topography that changed day by day. Literally one day I’d be in a frost laden forest and the next day I’d wake up on the train and discover a desert outside my window. Overall, I realized just how BIG China really is and how much I still don’t know about the country or its people. It’s true my understanding has increased drastically, but there is just so much out there that is still foreign to me, and I want to know more. Needless to say, it’s certainly an experience I’ll never forget.

Just so you can appreciate the extensiveness of this trip, I've included a lovely little map. The black line shows where I travelled, and the faint red dots are cities/places I visited:



Now as for something funny, this trip also showed me that I have an amazing stomach. All the students were afraid of getting the dreaded laduzi, which, sparing the graphic details, is a form of very unpleasant diarrhea that results from food bacteria. Basically, when you gotta go, you gotta go RIGHT NOW or else you'll implode. Some of the students couldn’t manage to evade it, leading to some interesting train ride experiences, but as the trip progressed I noticed I stayed untouched. I thought it was strange, so I decided to see just how much my body could take. My brilliant plan: eat as much weird, potentially hazardous stuff as possible and see what happens (I know, not the brightest idea, but I was curious…). Here are the results:

1. Eating amazingly spicy food = nothing


2. Eating about 15 different kinds of lamb meat, which sometimes were cooked in questionable styles or in sketchy areas = nothing


3. As a result of a dare, eating an entire small bowl of spice = nothing (it tasted kind of like that powder you put in ramen noodles, and I got 10 yuan as a result of my success)


4. Brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth out with tap water = nothing


5. Eating unwashed fruit = nothing


6. Eating unwashed fruit, the skin still on = nothing


7. Eating chuar (delicious lamb kabobs) off of a metal stick that clearly still had raw meat juice on it (yay bacteria fest!) = nothing


8. And the biggie: drinking naicha with milk that was clearly unprocessed and from the cow out back = nothing

Conclusion? LYNDSEY HAS A G.I. TRACK OF STEEL! OH BABY OH BABY!!!

And as for some final updates, first I’ll let you know that soon I’ll start talking more in depth about Chinese culture, not just about my personal experience. I expect my next blog entry to be about minorities, followed by one concerning traffic and changes in Beijing after the Olympics, and another about China’s immigration problem (yes, there is one, and you’ll never guess who the immigrants are). If there is a specific issue you’d like to know about, tell me and I’ll do the research (don’t worry, Alyssa, I’m still trying to find out more about the gymnastics scandal). Also, I should let you all know that I’ll be staying with IES Beijing next semester. The program is just so good, and the city is so amazing that I’ve decided to stick around for a bit longer.

Until next time!