time flies when you are having fun...

So, I was planning on being a bit more proactive with the blogging, but it's been a bit hit or miss with the energy at the end of the day. Miss mostly. In Hoi an now, I've traveled through Ha Long Bay, Hue, and the DMZ.



Ha Long Bay was one big party. I should have seen it coming, and perhaps a part of me did. It was a lot of fun, but without the trekking I was hoping for. Met a good group of people that I've met up with along the journey throughout. Much like the karst of Guilin, Ha Long Bay's main feature is the limestone islands jutting out of the bay covered in green. Beautiful, if you can see it. Our first day, it was pea-soup, so we didn't. The kayaking was the highlight of my trip. Out in tandem kayaks, our group explored the karst overhangs and caves. At one point, we paddled through a cave to a pristine bay...the quietest place I've been to in ages.

The rest of it was swimming and drinking and having fun.

Hue was not a great spot for me. Near the DMZ, it has little historic value of its own, but for a citadel of the Ly Dynasty. The touts riding cyclos (a bike with a chair on the front) were quite persistent in trying to get you to do illegal things. I hate peer pressure. The best one is when they say, 'Hey, friend! What's your name? etc. etc. Hey, I give you a ride for free. We're friends, free ride!' I always made it clear I was happy to walk (which drew some curses, by itself) but I saw an unfortunate Frenchman dealing with the same tout, shouting, 'You said it was free!' Poor bastard.

The DMZ tour was interesting. It's always interesting to see things from the other side...the Viet Cong valiantly pressuring the Americans to leave. Very heavy, but I'm glad I saw it. Part of the tour included a cave system that the North Vietnamese used. It was only for air raids and attacks, but it seemed like a terrible way to live for even part of six years. It also made me realize I have to read more about the Vietnam war...I'm not sure if I understand it from my country's side.

The food in Hue was good, though. There was a very meaty pork soup that was delicious, albeit some unpleasant after effects, and a chicken embryo, which as very much like a baluut, although not as far along.

Now I am in Hoi An, taking it easy. The beaches are lovely, the vendors friendly, and it was a great place to spend Earth Hour. All the lights in the city were shut off, and all the Vietnamese and most of the tourists gathered around the river. Using paper boats, people put lit candles on the water, making such a beautiful spectacle. When the lights were turned off, a bonfire was set alight--which was a bit ironic to me: it's Earth Hour! Let's get those carbons up in the atmosphere. The people danced and sang, and we were luckily invited to join. After the dancing ended, a game of Simon Says began. Playing Simon Says with a good caller can be difficult, but I will argue playing it in Vietnamese is harder. Inevitably, the three foreigners in the group messed up (mostly due to not knowing what 'simon says' is in Vietnamese) and were hustled into the center of the group. We were then made to hop like bunnies around the fire in a chain with a few other unfortunate Vietnamese. Great fun was had by all.

Although Hue was a bit of a bummer, Vietnam is still my favorite Southeast Asian country I've visited.

vietnam: the happiest place on earth?

There are a few reasons I am proposing this:

1. The food here is ridiculous. I have been eating every three hours like clockwork, and I don't feel weighed down, like I would in China, or god forbid the US.

2. The vendors, while bugging me all the time to ride their motorcycles and buy their fruit, don't bother me too much. It's a fairly mellow type of hawking that suits my style. They look at me, smile, point to their motorcycle, pineapple, holographic decal, etc. I say no, they smile and ask again, I say no again, they might ask me again, I say no, they go away. If these events happened in China, I'd flip out. I don't know if it's the way they do it, or just that I'm Chinaed out, it doesn't bother me.

3. Hanoi has these great horns that instead of honking a straight, piercing note, modulate between two tones. This makes honking mellow, as well. Instead of turning around, staring the driver in the eyes, and walking slower across traffic, I turn around, smile and wave at the driver, and walk slower across traffic. It's great.

4. I had my three favorite Vietnamese dishes, pho, bun (rice vermicelli), and banh mi (a pate and pork sandwich on a bastarized baguette) for about 5 bucks. (author's note: while I am pretty sure I could have, I did not eat them all at once.)

5. Walking around the night market, I stopped to watch street food being made, as I am wont to do. A cute girl was getting a handful of what I will call mini banh mi, which are made with a small baguette about the size of a breadstick and filled with a tiny bit of pate and dried meat. It looked good. The girl then turned to me, and with pretty darn good English, asked me if I wanted to try one. This is the part that makes me love Vietnam. Before I could order it myself, she took one of hers, handed it to me, and walked off. I shouted thank you at her, but she didn't even turn around...random act of kindness. It was awesome.

Preliminary verdict: Vietnam is mellow, and so am I. Let's see how the next 68 days of my trip go.

travel options

The basic hard sleeper trip is this—you get on the train, you make friends with your compartment-mates, you eat a meal, lights out at ten, you wake up, share breakfast, and if you’re lucky, you’ve arrived by eleven. 

The soft sleeper has none of that.  You get on the train, you get in your bed, you plug in your headphones, you watch tv, some dude turns out the lights.  If you’re lucky, you don’t wake up. 

On my way up to Harbin, on the hard sleeper, I had a great conversation with my bunkmates.  They told me what to see in the city, that Harbin girls were, “beau-ti-ful” (which was pretty self serving, as they were Harbin girls). I told them about the States, and they gave me the required compliment on my Chinese.  Just say nee how to anyone here, and they’ll compliment you on your Chinese…just as long as you aren’t of Chinese descent—god help you then—your Chinese better be good. 

My way back, I rushed on to the train just as it pulled out, out of breath.  My bunkmates (there are only 4 bunks in the soft, as opposed to six) were all sitting on their beds looking at the wall.  I threw down my bag used the restroom and returned.  It was then that I realized they were all watching television.  Man, I love that effing box. It always stimulates conversation so well.  So I jumped in my bunk, and no one said a word to me.  I opened my book, and tuned out. 

On a hard sleeper, I often don’t have a chance to open my book.  You start talking to one Chinese person, and then the rest of the people in the car come over to introduce yourself.  At the time, it can be a bit frustrating, but sitting in my 4 person cube of solitude, I missed it. 

One thing that is nice about a soft sleeper compartment is you have a door and control over your lights.  If you had for buddies going on a train trip, it would be a pretty sweet deal.  Otherwise, they just go out whenever the person sitting closest to the switch wants.  There is no communication, so no discussion.  I have my own reading light, so I don’t complain.

Let me explain why I was traveling soft sleeper.  1. It has been a life goal since I was 24 to travel all four classes on the Chinese trains.  Hard seat, soft seat, hard sleeper, soft.  I have finally crossed that monumental goal of my list.  2. It was the only space left on the last train out of the city.  3. I am a sucker for Chinese television. 4. The beds in the soft sleeper are so much nicer.  5. The high class company.  6. The no-snore guarantee.  7. Stimulating conversation.  8. Control over my own lights. 9. A locking door.  10. Did I mention complimentary headphones?

As you may guess, the first 2 are the only reasons.  The last 8 are very sarcastic.   I missed the first train I had a ticket for because I misread the ticket.  Luckily, I ran into a scalper that had tickets for the last train, and since I was most likely going to be the only one buying, gave me a good deal.  Not bad for finishing a life goal.

By far the worst part about the soft sleeper was the snorer in the bunk below me.  It was incredible.  Huge racking snores, punctuated by fairly articulate sleep talking, broken up by stints of just not breathing.  I was supposedly on the most comfortable compartment offered by a Chinese train, and I slept for all of two hours.  I was super pissed. 

No one else seemed to be bothered.  I don't understand.  Maybe after another 3 years in China I could sleep through that too.  

8 grand traditions of chinese cuisine: guangdong (cantonese)

To be honest, I'm not sure this counts...dim sum is certainly Guangdong food, but by eating these delicious lunchtime snacks, am I missing what makes Guangdongese food Guangdongese?  I have to reevaluate menus and wikipedia, and I'll get back to you.

Disclaimer aside, the food was great at the Gloria Plaza hotel.  We had a wide range of dim sum dishes, including the requisite Char Siu Bao, or pork buns (fluffy dough stuffed with sweet sauce and meat), Hargao, or shrimp dumplings, and Char siu sou, a flaky pastry stuffed with pork.  

Everything was to my expectations, and this is part of the problem.  With Anhui and Fujian food, I wasn't sure what I was getting, or I didn't realize that this food was from those regions.  Dim sum, however, my experience runs a little deeper.  The one thing that was new was the durian sou, which was a sweet pastry stuffed with that bizarre fruit, yes, you guessed it, the durian.  

Every time I pass a durian on the street at my local fruit stand (well, no longer, it's out of season) I was too intimidated to pick one up.  The large spiky shell and reports of its off-putting aroma always kept me from purchasing it.  If this flaky dessert type thing is any indicator (which I am definitely unsure it is), I would have enjoyed it.  

I'll have to get some back in the states.  Until then, I will be pondering whether I should go to another Guangdong restaurant, or leave it be.  Thoughts?

8 grand traditions of chinese cuisine: fujian

So, I have about 3 weeks before I leave, and I'm already almost halfway done with the 8 Grand Traditions of Chinese cuisine.  I am very impressed with myself.  

Fujian food was good, but didn't eclipse Anhui.  We had a broad range of dishes, ranging from Iron Pan Chicken Balls to Jellied Seafood.  The Iron Pan Chicken Balls--balls of Chicken meat, I'll have you know--were served mixed with onions, peppers, and oil.  This was a dish that I have had and enjoyed before, without realizing that it was Fujian dish.  

The Jellied Seafood was a bit disappointing.   The texture was very provocative, but as an American, with a somewhat limited appreciation for what the Chinese call and I translate as, "mouth-feel", it wasn't very flavorful.  However, it was served with a delicious sweet chili sauce that was very reminiscent of Thai food.  Is eating sauce with a spoon wrong?   

My favorite dish of the night was the sweet and sour pork balls.  Like most Americans know, the balls were served fried under a bright orange sauce.  It reminded me of Tasty-Goody's 2 lb. meal deal, but of much better quality.  The sauce, although it didn't look subtle, had a nuanced taste that I have yet to experience in an American restaurant.  In addition, the pork balls were stuffed with water chestnuts, which added texture to the dish, something I often find lacking in its American counterparts.

One of the more bizarre dishes was a tofu and egg dish (upper lefthand dish in the photo).  It was simple--cubed tofu and egg in clear sauce--but I have never had an egg prepared this way.  The egg was unrecognizable to the foreigners at the table, tough and lacking flavor.  It could have been soft cartiledge, for all I knew.  Again, it's a question of mouth-feel versus the tastebuds.  In my mouth, the tastebuds always win.

Another chicken dish (the lower lefthand dish), this one cold, was served in a red sauce, with a hint of baijiu.  There were guesses at the table that the flavor came from fermenting either the sauce or the chicken. That hint of baijiu was enough to bring back many a night (and terrible, terrible mornings-after) in Ningxia, getting drunk on baijiu with officials and heads of ngos.  It was at the cusp of putting me off, just due to my history with the infamous alcohol, but I decided it was good, and ate the majority.  I wonder how someone who had never had a baijiu hangover would feel about the dish.  I imagine pretty good.

But all in all, it was a delightful dinner.  Next up, Guangdong (Cantonese) food.  

(photo credits Adam Hines)

real winter

So yesterday, I talked about the beauty that is the Beijing winter.  Snow encrusted trees and signs, black tar beneath my bike tires, blah, blah, blah.

Then I rode home.  

Travel note: Heading west along the train tracks, fully into the wind, on a cold, smoggy night is not the best idea.  But as the sand and crystalized snow found every unprotected crevice of my person, I started to enjoy myself.  

Almost no one was out.  And those of us who did brave dirt-blown night were bundled up into anonymity.  Still I felt there was a communion here.  Passing the fully wrapped girl  in the pink parka, crossing paths with a man in black walking in the street, the boss bringing in the pots from outside his store, there was some connection.  Clearly, I did not stop to ask them about their day...nor did they me.  But I felt at one with Old Beijing.  

Riding down a dark alley, the Chuar man flipped his collar up as his charcoal flame sputtered in the harsh wind.  I have the romantic idea that this was what Beijing used to be like.  No laowai walking around, just locals braving the cold and filthy gusts to do what they must.  

I imagine they're weren't nearly as many Audis back then, but who really knows?

all sorts of precipitation

Snow has finally fallen on Beijing, and finally I am content.  It is no longer a grumpy, long-in-the-tooth fall I'm experiencing, but actually another season.  Where tires tread, the snow is blacker than coal, but resting on the plastic, lightbulb filled characters of various stores, the snow is almost peaceful.

The bike-riding is a bit more hazardous, but if you take it slow, and follow the trail that has been worn through the snow to the pavement by cyclers ahead of you, it's not too dangerous.  Riding my bike through the snow-covered leafless trees in the embassy district gets me very pre-nostalgic.  

I've had a good run in China, it's been a good time, and the snow almost makes me want to stay.

The key word there is almost...