What Happens When There's No TV...

What we had hoped would be about 2 weeks of WWOOFing looks more like 6 days. But we’re happy with whatever time we get, as this wasn’t what we expected at all. We had in mind that we’d be helping with some manual labor, cleaning, maybe repairing a few things. Instead, we have been asked to do little to nothing in exchange for a place to sleep, delicious home-cooked food, and extreme kindness.

We realized shortly after our arrival that the family had no real intention of having us work. They were only interested in sharing their space with us, making sure we had more than enough food to eat, and relaxing. And they expected us to do the same. So we have slept in. We have read books. We have eaten three square meals a day. We sit by a fire every night, joined by the old couple who also live in the compound (I will call it this as it has a wall surrounding the entire premises), and we listen to them talk. Occasionally Li Qiao (the man who accepted our request to come wwoof with them) will explain to us what they are speaking about, but usually we just listen and watch the fire.

There’s no TV here. I haven’t heard a radio. All laptops have been tucked away in bags for days, to be replaced by books for leisure reading instead. There are ipods, but the only one with buds sunk deep in her ears with any regularity is Li Ling, the 13 year old. Even the ringing of cell phones has all but ceased here. It’s nice. It’s removed. It’s slow and comfortable and reminds me of a time, not all that long ago, when we all once survived without a steady barrage of electronically induced stimuli.

Our days consist of doing some light chores around the compound, eating, and sitting. Steve and I have gotten a few runs in together, which has been nice for so many reasons. The scenery is calming and lovely in the early shades of dusk while we trot along, trying to remind our bodies of what it once was like not so long ago, before the accident, when we moved with regularity.

Our evenings consist of sitting down to dinner, then sitting around a fire. We pull chairs around the old metal bowl in the center of the bricked courtyard and we sit. And they talk. And they laugh. And we listen. We watch the fire and we listen. Sometimes we are included, but mostly we listen.  All members of the family are present and at some point in the evening the old couple who help tend the compound also come to join.

I like this so much because it reminds me that not all family time has to be centered around a TV or an event. It can rather be something as simple as a fire in the courtyard to keep the mosquitoes away that brings everyone together. There is tea to be sipped, and sometimes, homemade fruit wine, and cigarettes are handed out freely to all that want them.

Topics of conversation have included such things as who is the father of the baby bunnies, tales of grandma’s favorite cock that was murdered, herbal medicines, bats, and what blood type attracts mosquitoes the most. These are the things that matter here with no TV or computers to relate the outside world news, which would mean little to nothing here anyway. Who so and so is dating or what the president did today just isn’t a factor in life here. And that’s something that I treasure about my time here. Something that I will miss once we’re gone.

We leave Friday, back to Shanghai. Friday will come too soon. This has been for sure an unusual WWOOFing experience in the sense of what WWOOFing is supposed to be. But it’s one that I cannot imagine altering in any way. What incredibly special people to open their home to us over their holiday time and let us into their slow and unusual life. What a special gift indeed, when one can be reminded of some of the things that happen when there is no TV.

The duck, the turtle, and the domesticate

Tea time

Tools of work

L-R: LiBo, LiLing, Grandma, me, Steve, LiQiao, & J

Grandma's room/kitchen area

part of Grandma's house/garden

Grandma at work, despite having just had heart issues. She's a firecracker!

Abandonded building behind the old school on the proper

Part of the old buildings of the school behind th

To Grandma's House We Go: A Tale of WWOOFing

We finally decided that staying with anyone and doing some WWOOFing (in case you are not familiar with WWOOFing, it is a worldwide organization that allows travelers to go and stay on farms for free, where, in return, the travelers help work on the farm) was probably our best bet for the holiday, so Steve sent out emails trying to contact as many wwoofers near Shanghai as possible. Two wrote back. We decided on the first person who contacted us and made plans to meet up. We were to meet his brother (who supposedly did not speak any English, only Chinese and Japanese) at his apartment at 6am on Sunday.

We wearily drug ourselves out of bed at 4:30 and made our way out to the street to get a taxi. After 10 mins of waiting, we were whisked away on what was said to be a 30 min trip. It only took just over 10. We arrived at our designated location at 5:40am and waited. And waited. And waited. We finally showed someone the address we had on our little piece of paper to confirm we really were in the correct location. He nodded that we were, but we just needed to go down a few buildings from where we had been standing. We did and found it with no trouble.

We were welcomed in by a friendly man, Li Bo, and quickly offered a seat and something to drink. We were informed that we were waiting for the last person in our party, that she’d be there soon and we’d be on our way.  An hour after we arrived at the apartment complex, we were a complete party of five (Li Bo, his daughter Li Ling, ourselves, and J), and were on our way.

What was to be a three our drive turned into a 5 hour journey due to traffic, pit stops, and the alarmingly slow rate of velocity with which we traveled 96% of the time (despite our vehicle never leaving the fast lane for more than a few moments at a time).  But our company was kind and there was no smoking in the car. We arrived at the small village, parked, and walked around for a bit.

Everyone in the village knows everyone else (needless to say, we stood out) so it’s not uncommon for people to just wander into other people’s courtyards and homes, just to take a peak around or to say hello. So that’s exactly what we did. We walked down narrow streets and side alleys and peered into courtyards and sitting areas. We saw people at work repairing old structures, building new ones, and a man weaving a basket from bamboo.

“Everyone wants new,” we were informed. Rather than repairing, most people just tear it down and build one of the new, shiny buildings. Though beautiful in their own way, these new buildings overshadow the authenticity of the antique structures, replacing character and history. I truly felt my heart sink at the sight of out with the old, in with the new.

To couple this mentality, we were also told that “no young men in the village. They all go off to city to make the money.” So it was then no surprise that everyone we encountered, at work or at rest, was much older than us. Many of these people are more suitable for village life. They cannot read or write; only work. TV’s, cell phones, and subways are overwhelming and confusing. The slow, steady life of the village is comfortable, and is home.

And now, here we are, smack dab in the middle of this family’s home for the holidays. It is mid-autumn festival followed directly by Chinese Independence Day (yes, I realize the oxymoron there), and this family of four, plus two friends, plus countless neighbors, have invited us in to share this time with them. How truly fortunate we feel as we put our bags in our new room and take in exactly where we are. Nestled in a little old village amongst mountains covered in bamboo trees, we are happy to have found a place such as this to spend the holidays. 

Man Alive: Welcome to Shanghai

Woke up EARLY (4:30am early) to finishing throwing things in our bags and get downstairs for the 5:30 taxi taking us to the airport. At this hour, there’s no traffic, so we made it there in just over 30 mins. We paid her the 120Y and said goodbye. The flight was on time and full. In classically bewildering fashion, the other passengers were already queued up 15 mins before they even called for boarding. Amazingly enough, without queuing, our seats were still right there waiting for us when we got onto the plane. (shaking head in amazement and frustration) We had a layover in Xi’an for an hour about an hour into the flight, where we collected at least 30 other western foreigners. Then it wasn’t long at all before we were in Shanghai (3ish hrs) at Podong (pooh-dong) International Airport where we found that the couter was closed…in podong. Hmmmmm…

We decided to try for the metro to get to our hostel, Naza hostel ($27/night booked on agoda) near the Bund. But the board at the airport is a bit confusing because it makes it seem that all metro lines originate at the airport (they do not). Then we realized that the map was for the airport bus that then took you to the start of each metro line. However, line 2 of the metro really DOES start at the airport, so we decided to take that and just transfer to line 4 (6Y, but the cost varies depending on your destination). It would a 14-stop journey for us. Not too bad, really. But what nothing, nowhere tells you is that at a certain point (the half way mark for us) the green line #2 from the airport terminates and you must transfer onto the waiting train (also on the green line) that then continues the journey in the same direction as the train you were just on. Then THAT train goes back in the direction it just came. So, to clarify, two trains from opposite directions come into the station, where they then unload passengers onto the opposing train, and then each train reverses its direction to go back from whence it came. Confusing? Oh, you betcha! We were mystified.

To be fair, it does announce in English that the train terminates there, but it doesn’t say all passengers must change trains or they will return to the airport! Also, none of the maps in the train indicate that something special happens at this particular station. They also show the green line 2 metro line as a full and continuous route (presumably on the train you’re currently on).

So after staying on our original train (which is now returning us to the airport), we got off at the next stop, and on the opposing train. Then, at this fateful stop, we were greeted with a nearly déjà vu experience. The train stopped. All the lights went off. The other train came. All passengers got off both trains. And then both trains went in the reverse direction. But at least this time, we were on the CORRECT train, going toward our transfer point!

We got off on Dalian Road, went out exit 4, took a left, then another left at the corner (Kunming), walked a block and took a right at the next street (Baoding Road) and Naza Hostel is on the right just a few buildings in. Easy…after asking directions, since the ones from the website weren’t quite as clear.

We dumped our bags then headed out in search of food and to wander. We ate some noodles and spring rolls (9Y) at a nearby restaurant across the street, then wandered into a large street market area where I picked up a bag full of fresh edemame (3Y) and Steve got some local meat dumplings (3Y) that were not very delicious. We then walked down to the waterway area and waited for the sun to go down and the lights on the buildings to come up. It was really pretty—but the best part was the older French inspired area to the west of the famous skyline area. Then we headed back to the room to try to sort out our next move. All I can say for sure is, Chinese holidays suck for the non-Chinese.

As of yet, we’ve got no idea where we’re going from here. You’re guess is as good as ours at this point…

**the title to this blog is purely to make Steve and I laugh. It is taken from the probably misheard lyrics of a horrible song played on the plane at landing “Man a city, man alive…ba, ba, ba, ba, bababababababaaaaah!”

Ha. Ha. Hahahahahahahaha! Couter closed in Pu-dong...

The skyline at dusk

The older,  French Concession of the skyline at dusk

As the buildings begin to come alight...

Fully light, complete with the moon poking through the clouds above

International city perk: A great beer from a micro brewery

Tree-lined street of the French Concession

The date's upside down...ha :)

Fuxing Park, tucked away in the French Concession

Another Int. City Perk: Imports!!!

Xining: Good(and Bad)byes

Xining would be the end of many things for us. Some of these things we knew going in. Others were a disappointing realization.

The first full day in Xining was just that. We woke early and though we were monastaried out, we had already decided the night before that we wanted to go to one more monastery. This one would be special. Not because it is one of the 6 most sacred (though it is) but because it would be our last monastery, our last sightseeing adventure, with Judy and Phil. We had breakfast with them and then all piled into a cab and headed the 30-ish minutes outside of town to the Kumbum Monastery.

It cost us 80Y each for tickets, but it turns out you only needed the ticket in order to get into two specific temples (that we weren’t overly impressed by). The other temples and areas had ticket “scanners” but no one manning them or the person just didn’t seem to really care to scan the tickets. This was a bit annoying since we would have rather just missed the first two temples and saved the money and still saw the rest of it.

Aside from that bit of a grumble, the monastery was very large and fairly impressive. We were surprised and slightly shocked by all the tourists everywhere until it was put into terms that made sense: “This is like the equivalent of the Vatican for Catholics”. Ah, well, that makes a bit more sense now then doesn’t it. We walked all over the entirety of the grounds, stopping at any and everything that we could (had to get that 80Y worth!), and after about 4 hours, we made our way out and back to town.

Once back in Xining, we made our way over to the Dongguan Mosque, also known as the Great Mosque (25Y). It is an interesting mix of Chinese and Muslim architecture styles. We stayed for about 30 minutes or so but decided to leave just after the call to prayer and before they gathered to pray.

We woke early the next morning to say our goodbyes to our new friends and dear travel companions as they were heading out on an early flight to another area of China before heading home. There’s not much that Steve and I will wake up early for, but saying goodbye to Phil and Judy was a worth reason. They are wonderful people and we feel very thankful and blessed to have met them and gotten to travel with them.

Thank you Judy for always using those 10 words of Chinese you know. And Phil, thank you for all the interesting information. Again, you guys are so special and we’re happy to know you and look forward to when our paths may cross again!

The remaining time in Xining was spent catching up (or trying to anyway) on internet stuff and trying to figure out our next move. This is usually the case for us—both being behind on internet type things (emails, blog entries, facebook, etc…) and always needing to figure out our next move since we can’t seem to plan ahead—but this time it was special. This time, we were faced with the obstacle of a 10-day Chinese holiday.

This may not seem like a daunting obstacle to some, but for someone who doesn’t speak any functional Chinese and is trying to get around the country while thousands of other people who do speak Chinese are doing the same, it becomes a challenge. All trains to all destinations we were hoping to go to (farther west) were sold out for 9 to 10 days. Flights to these locations were either sold out or too expensive to stomach or budget. We were stuck and we were getting frustrated. And heartbroken.

We so very badly wanted to go west. I wanted to ride a camel in the desert! Steve wanted to see the strangeness of a place more like a –stan country (Afghanistan, Pakistan, ect.) than like China. We wanted to see the land become dryer and dryer until we could feel the air pulling the moisture from our very skin just to give it some dampness. Heartbroken could possibly an understatement for the sorrow that surrounded us for a full 24 hours as we were forced to come to grips with the fact that plans, hopes, dreams were changing and being abandoned. We could not head west.

Instead, we would go east, by plane. Everything about that sentence sat like a stone in both of our stomachs. But sitting like a stone in Xining, waiting for 10 days for another option wasn’t a workable option either. So, we booked our flight, finished up as much as we could online, packed our bags and went to sleep—still sullen about the disappointment of plans changed, but also anticipating what could now be in store for us because of this new change in going to Shanghai in the morning.

reading sanskrit

pray flags

Tibetan woman and prayer wheels of the monastery

symbolizes Buddist's idea that all religions are different but can work harmoniously together. 

Phil and Judy with us at the monastery

Xining at night

Tongren & Tongkas

After our time in the grasslands we were so looking forward to heading farther west to a place called Tongren. It is famous for the painstakingly detailed, delicately hand-painted pictures of Buddhas called tongkas. Other than this information, we knew little else of Tongren. We foolishly assumed this meant that Tongren was a small town. It’s not. We were noticeably disappointed when the bus rolled to a stop at the station in the middle of this busy city.

Without hesitation we decided to just buy a bus ticket out the following day at noon. That would give us 24 hours to see what we wanted to see and get out. And that’s exactly what we did…after searching for a hotel of course.

Turns out Tongren is much like Lanzhou in that there are many hotels but not many for foreigners. There are two, in fact. Not far from the bus station and right across the street from one another. We selected the cheaper of the two at 220Y, dropped our bags, ate a bit of our food stash, and then headed down to meet up with Phil and Judy in the lobby to head to the monastery to see the tongkas.

There are two monasteries just outside of the city (we actually passed them on the bus on the way in), an upper and a lower. The upper is less touristy, so we started there. We were met by a monk who was extremely kind and generous. He showed us into locked temples and areas and allowed us to take photos even though it was clearly posted that they weren’t permitted. All he asked of us was a donation, if we were inclined to give one. We all agreed that we were and gave him 10Y each. After which he informed us that with this donation we would be able to light a yak butter candle and also two sticks of incense. This monastery visit was worth much more than the 10Y we donated, that’s for sure.

We also got to meet with one of the artists who takes months to hand paint these beautiful tongka creations. He was a fairly young monk who was also very kind and generous with his time and his stories. He told us of some of the hardships that the Tibetan people face at the hand of the Chinese government. It was nearly heartbreaking to watch his kind face fill with sorrow for the acts inflicted on the victims from his tales.

We then headed to the lower temple, but Steve and I didn’t go in as the admission was 30Y and we were already told it was more touristy and the quality of tongkas was lower than that of the upper monastery. So we sat outside the wall of the monastery and talked while we waited for Judy and Phil to walk around inside. After they were finished, we headed back to Tongren for some dinner and then off our separate ways until we would reconvene in the morning to head for the bus station to get our bus to Xining. 

Golden Buddhas outside the Upper Monastery

8 stupas

One of the temples of the Upper Monastery

Golden Buddhas and tongkas inside the temple

Lighting his yak-butter candle

1000 eyed/handed Buddha

Tongkas

in detail

A massive tongka in progress

up close, at work