Spring 2008 (by Pat)

Certain experiences help tell you what kind of person you are, or, perhaps, help mold you into a certain type of person. What, to one person, is a really stupid idea, to another may be an interesting adventure. I’m trying to figure out where I fall.

When I heard the Crazy English people had invited us to visit them at the Olympic Volunteer Training Site, it sounded like an interesting trip. When I found out last night where the site was, 50 miles north of the central city, past the Badaling Great Wall site, I began to wonder. It seemed like an awfully long cab ride. When I heard that Sally had said the roads out of the city would be packed because of the long holiday, I basically knew it was a bad idea.

We left at 8, took a cab north where we met Sally who had somehow persuaded a cab driver to undertake the journey. The Badaling Expressway was jammed. We crawled forward for hours. Over this time we saw numerous cars stopped on the shoulder. They seemed to range from flat tires, breakdowns, drivers who had stopped to stretch or pee, or families who decided to picnic alongside the expressway. One woman got out of a car in front of us and jogged alongside it.

The problem with all these stopped cars was that the shoulder was treated as a regular lane by the drivers, so every stopped car required a merge, further slowing traffic.

After two and a half hours, it was quite clear this had been a bad idea. After three hours, it became clear that neither Sally nor the driver knew where we were going. At one point we took an exit, asked the toll taker for directions, then backed up the off ramp to get back on the expressway. There turned out to be a lot of backing up involved.

After three and a half hours we arrived, an hour and a half late. As I paid the fare, Sally asked the driver to wait for us. He wanted money in order to wait, but Sally refused. I began to wonder how we would ever get a ride back.

The volunteer training site is a university, closed for the holiday. The central square was festooned with Olympic banners and the flags of 205 Olympic nations. Volunteers must be able to recognize each flag.

We were taken around the campus and met briefly with the head guy, then had lunch at a restaurant on campus. We were then invited to attend a training session. Low and behold I was introduced to the class of about 40 and asked to make some remarks.

It appeared to be an English class put on by Crazy English. Yk had mentioned to me on a previous trip there their teaching methodology largely involves shouting and we saw it first hand. It appeared more like a Tony Robbins type motivational meeting – “I feel good. I feel great. I feel wonderful.” Much hugging and telling your neighbor to smile. Chin up, chest out, cheese. The volunteers appeared enormously enthusiastic, but I had no idea if they were learning any English.

But the highlight of the visit had occurred earlier. While walking out of a building, I noticed a young woman, apparently a student at the university, taking a picture of me. I stood up straight and posed. She then handed the camera to a friend and ran up to me. I put my arm around her and smiled for the photo.

Obviously, she could not have been attracted to my scintillating personality, so she could only have been attracted by my manly good looks.

On the way out, I expressed some concern to yk about finding a ride back to the city. She suggested that our driver would be waiting because he wouldn’t be able to find another fare back to city and he knew we were going back. Sure enough, three hours after dropping us off, there he was. I was glad to see him, but he seemed genuinely ecstatic to see us.

The ride back was only about two hours.

Summer 2006 (by Chrissy, our daughter, a middle school teacher in California)

Changchun – Wikipedia

There were 8 of us traveling together for this trip. We checked our luggage at Seoul’s Incheon Airport and soon hopped on a plane to Changchun, our first stop on the way to Yanji. Our flight left at 8:30 AM and was an hour and a half long. China is all one time zone, so even though we are going east, the time actually goes back.

We noticed that the flight path of the plane was not actually a direct route, but rather a C like route. Soon my father figured out that we could not fly a direct route because that would put us over North Korea.

Onboard the plane we were treated to a beef and rice meal with a little toothpaste-like tube of red pepper paste. Dad and YK gave me theirs so I could bring it back to the states.

We had three forms to fill out on the plane and had to go through three check points to enter China. After one of the checkpoints, a Chinese security guard came up to me to asked where I was from. I told her and my dad joined in the conversation and asked her where there was a good place to eat. We soon figured out that that woman could be the best English speaker in all of Changchun.

After getting our bags and going through customs we had a dilemma. Our next flight was at 8:30 PM and it was currently 9:30 AM. So, we had a lot of time to kill. The dilemma was our luggage. We had two options. Option #1 was to put the bags in a locker facility, but the problem with this choice was it closed at 6PM. Our other option was check in for the next flight and officially check in our luggage. The problem with this option was that we could not do so until 11:30. We decided to do the latter. We found an area to sit and I said I would stay with the luggage. As soon as I said so, all 7 people went different directions and I was there watching over 10 bags. Time flew as I read my book. Soon it was 11:30 and we checked our bags and we were off to spend a day in Changchun, China.

The airport was far from the city so we had two options to get the 8 of us into the city: cab or bus. We were told that a cab would cost about 100 Yuan each and we would need two. The bus was 20 Yuan a person, so for a little more, the cab was a better deal. We went over to the cab line, and we were told they wanted 150 Yuan. Not wanting to get ripped off on our first purchase in China, we walked back to the bus and hopped on.

The bus drove and finally we reached our first stop. We didn’t know if this was the stop or not, but the cab drivers there insisted that it was. They tricked us. After being coaxed off the bus by the cab drivers, we set off on a long walk to a restaurant that YK had found in a Frommer’s guide. This was my first experience as a pedestrian in China and let me tell you it was not an easy one.

Sidewalk walking was fine but anytime we had to cross the street, we were faced with a difficult task. To put it mildly, the pedestrian does not have the right of way. Even if the little green man is on or when his limbs start moving very quickly back and forth (indicating it is time to speed up) cars, motorcycles, and bicycles will still continue to plow through the intersection. In fact, most traffic laws do not seem to be important. Cars drive on either side of the street and frequently in two lanes. One thing that is cool is that most major intersections have a counter to let you know how much more green or red time is left for you. However, there are people everywhere and every car on the road is constantly honking its horn. We are in Yanji now, and my dad calls the horn honking the Yanji Symphony. The drivers do not seem to honk when I normally honk, namely to avoid accidents. They honk to indicate passing and other things that this native English speaker cannot understand. One thing that I do understand that as a pedestrian, it is best to be on the defensive and run like your ass is on fire for fear of becoming road kill.
After determining which way was north by consulting my dad’s watch, we followed the paper print out map to the restaurant. Inside, our party of 8 put two tables together and the menu in front of Euikyoo. It was a dumpling place and knowing this, Euikyoo ordered a feast. First, a tofu dish came out, and then another of the same dish came out, then two mushroom dishes and a sprout dish. Then, the main dishes came out.

Euikyoo ordered three types of dumplings prepared three different ways: fried, steamed, and boiled. We had lamb, beef, and veggie dumplings and they were all delicious, and I should know, because of course, I had to try them all.
Not only did we have all this food, 7 of us wanted cold beer and Euikyoo ordered 7 bottles. The 7 bottles ended up not being normal sized bottles, but the big
kind and the idea of the bottles being cold was difficult to translate because only 4 came cold. The other three were sent back and were replaced with 3 bottles of another brand.
The napkins for this meal were given to us in little folder type bags which I have since saved (as well as snagged an extra) and refilled because my travel book commented on how the Chinese do not seem to find toilet paper as important as Americans do. I made a
wise choice because even the bathroom in the restaurant did not have toilet paper. In fact, most places that we went all day did not have it as well.

Just because this tends to be a toilet diary as well, both the restaurant toilet and the one at the airport were porcelain, flushing holes in the ground with built in places for foot placement to aid in the squatting. It was at this time that I feared that I would have to squat for two weeks worth of bathroom usage, but I finally found a standard American toilet when we went back to the airport.

Our meal, which consisted of 9 dumpling dishes, 5 extra dishes, 7 huge bottles of beer and a Pepsi, came to about 176 Yuan. At 8 Yuan to 1 US dollar, our delicious feast cost $22.

When lunch ended, we took 2 cabs to a shopping area. Cab fare starts at 5 Yuan and increases very slowly. I don’t think I have ever been in a cab where the fare started under a dollar before. We went to a shopping street and began window shopping until we reached a gelato store. We had to stop of course, because we can’t go a day without some sort of iced treat.

This was where we met our first major communication gap of the trip. Everyone in the store knew Chinese and although we were masters of English and Korean, it did
us little good ordering gelato. Our goal, which we eventually achieved, was to order 8 different types of gelato and pass them around and around the table to get a sample of each flavor. Using the menu did not work to accomplish this task, so eventually dad stood up and read the gelatos that had English tags on them, but ended up pointing at 8 flavors saying the word for one that he learned in Chinese 101 at SMC. We ended up
with mango, pistachio, chocolate, tiramisu, coffee, orange, coconut and something called mint. When this one did not taste at all minty, we did some further investigations and looked at the gelato and its accompanying tag. The ice cream called itself mint but had a picture of a kiwi underneath it.  Turns out it was kiwi flavored after all.

Shopping continued after this quick break, but as Jasmine, Kathy, and Hyun bought new pairs of shoes each, the other 5 of us took another break for tea and coffee before joined by the shoe shoppers. We continued walking and ran into a very cool flea market style food market before reaching a park where we sat and rested. I was told that the park restroom was too traditional and the most unpleasant of the trip. I took their word for it. That was one toilet that I did not feel the urge to investigate.

Quick fashion note. The summer weather in China is hot, sometimes as hot as Seoul, but without the humidity.Men tend to pull their shirts up halfway or walk around shirtless. Some even eat in restaurants shirtless. Women still continue to wear high heels around, although they don’t seem to be as high here in China. Lastly, babies have interesting attire. I noticed a lot of babies in very long shirts and then after seeing one baby I figured out why. This particular baby was wearing a regular shirt and a pair of pants, but the pants were completely crotchless.  They were almost like chaps. It was then that I
realized that these babies do not have diapers, but wear the shirts or the crotchless pants so their clothes aren’t ruined when they have to go. After that, I saw a few more bare butts, and it brought up a couple of questions in my mind. Why have these kids wear pants at all if they are completely exposed regardless? Also, I wondered what happened if these babies are being held when nature calls.

The taxi to the airport actually cost about 75 Yuan.

January 2009 (by Pat)

I left LAX Wednesday morning and arrived in Beijing Thursday afternoon. Yk, who was flying in from Seoul, said she would find me at the airport, but it was I who found her, 4 places ahead of me in the same immigration line.

Xuesong and Aihua picked us up at the airport. We had dinner with them, their two little girls (ages 3 and 5) and Xuesong’s parents, following which, we were treated to foot massages.

The next morning they picked us up at the hotel and drove to a river recreation area about 2 hours southwest of Beijing. It is still quite cool in Beijing and the place was largely deserted. The place features boat rentals (none were being used), a gondola ride across the river and up the mountain, and a bungee jumping platform jutting out over the river gorge.

We unanimously agreed to skip the bungee jumping, but we took the 2 person gondolas up the mountain and climbed the steps to the summit. Along the way one can don costumes for picture taking.

The last set of stairs led to a bell pagoda at the summit. In keeping with the Chinese tradition that everything costs something, we were informed by a woman at the foot of stairs that she would be listening and we were to pay 1 yuan (about 15 cents) for each time we rang the bell. We rang it 9 times which, according to Xuesong, will bring prosperity to our business.

On the way back to Beijing, we noticed a dozen or more couples, in wedding dresses and tuxedos, posing for pictures along the river. Apparently, photographers arrange to bus them down to this area for photos. It was somewhat puzzling to me as the area was not particularly attractive.

After dinner, there were more foot massages.

The next day, Saturday, we moved from the Shangdi area, the techie area, to a 3 bedroom apartment, closer to the center of town, where we were joined by oj, Ahn Sook and Dr. and Mrs. Lee, all arriving from Seoul. This brought our group to 8. Yk, the organizer, had carefully planned the weekend activities of meals, shows, cocktails and massages, but, as it turned out, some of these activities had to be eliminated in order to accommodate the necessary shopping.

We had dinner that night at a North Korean restaurant in a hotel. The 8 of us were joined by Dr. Kim, the president of Yanbian and Pyongyang Institutes of Technology, and three other gentlemen, one a real estate developer, one a Chinese government official and the other a finance guy from Seattle (yk does manage to bring together groups of people).

After dinner, several of the guests had to leave to catch planes, but the fellow from Seattle noted that there was karaoke equipment in the room and said that he would skip his flight if we were to start to karoke. One of the waitresses set up the equipment and performed a song while the song books were being examined. It turned out that most of the songs were North Korean and unknown to the group, so the karaoke was short lived.

We next went to xuesong and aihua’s home where several in the group were treated by xuesong’s father who is some kind of mystical healer.

By this time it was getting late and I was exhausted. I fell asleep in the car, thinking we were heading back to the apartment but awoke to find we were at a massage place. I was too shot even for a massage and yk walked me back to the apartment. Knowing how much she likes her massages, I know this was a major sacrifice.

Sunday morning, Ahn Sook and Xuesong went golfing and Aihua took oj, yk and me shopping ending up at a “high-end knockoff” store, where oj did some serious shopping.

We met up with the group in the early evening outside the Chaoyang Theater for the flying acrobatics show. While waiting outside the theater I saw something I couldn’t quite believe – a young man reading a book while pedaling his bicycle through Beijing traffic. Fortunately, I was able to point him out to the others, thus verifying that I wasn’t hallucinating.

The show was quite stunning, ending with 12 women fanned out on a bicycle, causing Ahn Sook to remark that Beijing doesn’t need so many bikes.

After the show, we went to yk’s favorite Peking duck restaurant where we were joined by two friends of Xuesong. I again became fatigued and after dinner excused myself, intending to take a cab back to the apartment, but xuesong insisted on driving me. Once again, I missed the nightly massage.

The next morning, having inspected oj’s purchases, Ahn Sook and Mrs. Lee wanted to go to the knock-off store, so Xuesong took them there, along with oj who wanted to sure she hadn’t missed anything.

Yk and I took the opportunity to visit an ex-pat bookstore – café she had read about. It turned out to be somewhat disappointing – more café than a bookstore.

That afternoon we had drinks in a 20^th floor hotel cocktail lounge with a view overlooking the Water Cube and Bird’s Nest stadium.

We had dinner that night at what was supposed to be an Italian restaurant, but the restaurant had apparently changed to a more eclectic, Asian centered menu. We were joined by Iris, a friend of oj and yk, who is curating an exhibit of a Korean artist in Beijing, and a colleague of hers who referred to himself on his business card as the Art Master.

After dinner, Xuesong took oj, Ahn Sook, and the Lees to the airport for their flight back to Seoul, while the rest of us ordered another bottle of wine. After we received the wine, a waitress brought us several dishes of nuts which she said were complimentary. Behind her was the manager who approached me and said I was the first westerner they’ve had in the restaurant and would I mind answering a few questions about the food.

We spent the night in a hotel back in the Shangdi area and I was put to work the following morning, recording promotional video clips.

After lunch we met our friend John who had just returned from several days of tree planting in the desert of Mongolia. We met at a Starbuck’s and if anyone would like a map of the Starbuck’s locations in Beijing, I have one for you.

That evening we were taken to the Laoshe Teahouse in the heart of Beijing, where we were joined by Iris and the Art Master. In the lobby, there are statues of Deng Xiaoping (I think) greeting Bush senior, a meeting that took place in the teahouse.

The teahouse puts on a show which consists of a collection of eclectic acts, reminiscent of the old Ed Sullivan show with an oriental flavor. There were comedy duos, dish spinners, long-spouted teapot acrobats, a magic show, an aria performed by a drag queen, and, my favorite, a Sichuan face changer.

After the show, Xuesong insisted I sit for a caricature portrait at the teahouse. It’s somewhat disconcerting to sit there and watch numerous Chinese lean over the artist’s shoulder and giggle.

We had a late dinner at one of the few restaurants that stay open late. Xuesong ordered a small bottle of 112 proof Chinese whiskey. We wound up going through 5 of them.

As we walked to our room, back in the hotel, we passed a man passed out in the corridor. He was snoring so loudly we could hear him from our room, but I was so tired it didn’t matter. He was gone in the morning.

My last adventure was the trip to the airport Wednesday morning. My flight was at noon, yk’s at 2. We left the hotel a bit after 9 with a side stop planned to pick up a dress Mrs. Lee had left for alterations. Traffic was heavy and Xuesong wound up taking a round about route to the ring road which also had heavy, but moving, traffic. It was about 10 when we got to exit for the dress shop, but we had no sooner gotten on the exit ramp when traffic stopped completely. After a few minutes, passengers started exiting the buses ahead of us. Aihua decided to get out and walk to the dress shop. She called shortly afterward to say there was an accident on the road ahead and all traffic was stopped. I decided it would be best for me to take my bags down the ramp, cross to the other side of the street where traffic was moving somewhat, and get a cab to the airport.

Crossing the street involved lifting my bags over a center barrier, an awkward process. Once on the other side, I couldn’t find a cab. Most had passengers and those that didn’t wave me off, an odd occurrence in Beijing. I finally decided to walk to the corner and finally found a cab on the next street.

I wasn’t fully sure, however, that the driver had understood where I wanted to go (feijichang = airport) and became more concerned when he passed the entrance to the airport expressway and remained on the rather busy street.

He did finally get on the expressway, however, and we made it to the airport without further incident. Now all that remained was check-in, tram ride, exit immigration, secondary document check, and airport security.

The check-in line was longer than usual and slow moving. When I finally reached the front the agent said, “Did you know your flight has been delayed for four hours?” So much for rushing.

I navigated the rest of the checkpoints and finally reached the Air China lounge. Yk was already there.