Monday, May 01, 2006

Pug Spotlight: Moby

As if my dog needed any more publicity... he's currently gracing the "Pug Spotlight" page at austinpugs.com
"Whattup Dawgs! I'm Moby, AKA "The Mobinator" AKA "Pooey Jr."

People often ask me: "Where ever did you get that crazy name? Are your parents obsessed with 19th century American Literature or something?" That always makes me chuckle. Literature? MY Parents?! Ha! Heaven's no! Unless you call People Magazine or drudgereport.com literature! In fact, I'm not even sure my dad can read! Actually, my folks named me after that smooth-headed, cultural and musical icon; Moby (who IS in fact actually related to Herman Melville!) Apparently, they were really into the album "Play" when I came home from the puppy farm, so with all the creative effort they could muster…Well, I guess it could be worse. At least my name isn't Radiohead.

So Here I am in Austin. Cool place to be in my opinion, as long as it's not summer. I can't stand the summers here. You can't blame me though, I was born and raised in Southern California. I can still remember chasing the sea gulls and splashing in the cool Pacific Ocean. When my folks told me we were moving to Austin, I thought they were crazy! But once I got here, it all made sense. Sure, the weather pretty much sucks in the summer, but oh man, the music here rocks! And I really can't complain about all my new buddies in the pug club. (Big shout out to Jasmine, Chom Chom, Buda, Milo, Sofi and Murphi! WHAT WHAT!)

So I've been ripping on my parents, but I should really cut them some slack. Despite their inherent dorkiness, they try their best. Plus, they let me chill all day on the couch (thus my nickname "lazy") and if that wasn't cool enough, they put a down comforter in my crate! Woo Hoo! Now if I can only get them to switch out my crappy dry food for something halfway tasty… (note to self: try sad, begging puppy routine)

I'm really a cool guy once you get to know me. Yea, I'm a bit spastic when I first meet you, and I definitely suffer from a moderate case of Pug ADD, but if you can get my attention, you will earn a friend for life.

Next time at the Pug Meetup, come and say hi. I'll be over by the golden retrievers racing after them into the creek.

submitted for Moby by Alan"

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Pride And GU Packs

2 years ago I had the brilliant idea of running the Capitol 10K. It seemed like a reasonable endeavor considering my long and glorious history as a high school Junior Varsity swimmer (don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, the 100yd breast stroke is JUST LIKE running 6.2 miles). And with my recent victory over the aliens living inside my xbox, I desperately needed to direct my perpetually competitive energies elsewhere.

Normally when presented with the option of playing sports outdoors or on a television screen, I’d select the latter, but this time my lesser judgment got the best of me and I signed up for a 3 month training course to prepare for the race. …which it turns out happened to be a great idea because I ended up running the race in a respectable 52 minutes with only a post-race heart murmur or two to show for it.

Fast forward 23.5 months.


Alan: “Hey Tim, what are you doing today?”

Tim: “Probably just going for a run.”

Alan: “A run?”

Tim: “Yea, I’m going to run the Cap10K in two weeks”

Alan’s (Inner monologue): The Cap10K! I did that once…AND I did it in the respectable time of 52 minutes! If I ran it, I could certainly beat him and then…(song cues up) “We are the champions”
Tim: “We are the champions?”
Alan: “Oh you heard that?... Forget it. How about I run the race with you… y’know as a show of support!”

Tim: “Golly what a grand idea” (he didn’t really say that… I think it was just “cool”)


So armed with my Nike Air 360s and topped off with a full tank of pride, I began my 2 week crash course training regimen:


Day 1: run for 20 minutes

Day 2: look for socks with better “wicking” technology

Day 3: Think about race

Day 4: Think about race some more

Day 5,6,7: Weekend! Take a well-deserved break.

Day 8: Huh? 11 am already?..better get up now…(5 hours later) run for 20 minutes

Day 9: Create “Alan’s Ultimate Race Mix” of high energy race music. Transfer to iPod.

Day 10: Run for 20 minutes (in order to test out the first 5 songs of Alan’s Ultimate Race Mix)

Day 11: Reorganize songs on iPod to enhance motivational properties of Alan’s Ultimate Race Mix.

Day 12: Contract cold
virus
Day 13: Sickness worsens

Race Day (at 3am): Realize that I shouldn’t get out of bed because I’m sick as a dog AND can’t sleep due to my unfortunate decision to take a 24 hour Claritin D (now with extra pseudoephedrine) 5 hours before.

But pride… ah yes pride. It can do quite a number on you.

So I gulped 3 GU packs, chugged a vitamin water (cause its packed with. Y’know. Vitamins) and chomped an extra Claritin for good measure before **bang** the race begins.

Pain, thy name is Cap10k. I’m not going to go into too much detail here, let’s just say it was ugly. Apparently there is a very good reason why our intelligent designer designed us to sleep once in awhile and/or heal before intense physical activity. No less than three imaginary heart attacks, 2 desperate attempts to refrain from vomiting and 62 minutes later, I crossed the finish line.

Humbly I congratulated Tim on a great race. For the record, I’m pretty sure his victory was due to him taking advantage of one of my imaginary cardiac episodes about 4.5 miles into the race…
…or maybe Alan’s Ultimate Race Mix still needed some fine tuning.
…or 4 GU packs instead of 3?

...or Red Bull instead of Vitamin Water?

…or maybe because I had to pee starting .5 miles into the race which was really distracting.


But it was certainly, absolutely, positively NOT because Tim was better prepared and flat out whooped me.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Helmet Head

It's official; I'm old and lame (but well protected with toasty ears!).

It seems like just yesterday....those good ole days when life and limb were of no particular consequence. When hurtling down an ice-covered, tree speckled mountain at 40mph seemed like a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon. And riding rusty, vomit-inducing carnival rides with ill-fitting "safety" latches was considered drunk sport.

But I have crossed the chasm of reckless, indestructible youth and am now resting awkwardly (and with slight lower back pain I might add) in the uncomfortable reality of early 30ish health and safety consciousness.

Yea, you guessed it. I bought a snowboarding helmet.

Now I wouldn't be caught dead Mtn. biking without a helmet. Nor would I touch a dirt bike or quad without 4 inches of foam surrounding my head. But for some reason, snow sports didn't seem to apply to these laws of logic.

Snow is soft right? Well maybe not California snow... but surely it’s softer than say... rocks or asphalt? And trees? Well, you just AVOID those. That was my mantra for 21 years of avid snow sportin'... until this year.

This year I turned 31, and although 30 is supposed to be the new 20, my back doesn't feel a day younger than 43 1/2 (probably something to do with missing "lift with the legs" day at back school). Despite the back thingy though, I probably would have fooled myself into "winging it" one more year if it wasn't for an ill-conceived trip to the local Carnival.

I used to think carnivals were amusing; a good time after "having a laugh," a fun destination to take a date or an opportune place to meet high school girls (WHEN I WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL TOO OF COURSE!). So when Jabari, my little brother I'm matched up with in the Big Brothers of Austin program, suggested we go to the rodeo and carnival a few weeks back, I was totally game.

Then the horror show began:

Mistake #1: I bought unlimited ride wristbands for us
Mistake #2: I ate a greasy sausage sandwich with extra onions and mustard as soon as we entered the carnival.
Mistake #3: I bragged to Jabari that I could “outride him any day of the week” and that he could “hang out in the kiddy playland if couldn’t handle the big boy stuff with me”. Umm yea. This was a stupid thing to say to a fearless 13 year old with an iron stomach and something to prove.

Needless to say, I ended the evening with a throbbing headache, weird crackling noises in my inner ears, double-vision and a nauseous gurgling stomach slowly eating away my GE junction with heartburn.

I even faintly remember a particularly bratty little preteen girl exclaim: “Oh my god, that old guy is about to barf all over the place” while I was upside down on some “Vomitron 2000” ride.

This was my wakeup call that I was neither
a)indestructible nor
b)immune to pain as I previously thought

So before my Mammoth trip last weekend, I walked into Sport Chalet, head lowered in shame and ridicule, and purchased a large, gray snowboarding helmet that when worn, made my head look like a primer-coated watermelon (with air vents) capable of receiving deep space radio transmissions.

I was beat.

But funny how these things work out in ones favor. Not only did the soft, velvety ear flaps keep my ears toasty warm in the blizzard conditions on the mountain, but I crashed (and whacked my head good n’ hard) not once but TWICE!

What forsight I thought through the fuzzy, pre-concussion haze of the second spectacular collision of my head to the icy landing of the jump I just attempted.

I think its time for some hot cocoa.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Abdine Video Archive (Part 2)

Here's a juicy morsel of kooky awkwardness that I produced for Melissa's first grade class.

After watching a small hole in Moby's food bin slowly grow in diameter over the course of a few months, I became suspicious that a bird was pecking out a new home. One afternoon however, I caught the little culprit in action and much to my surprise, the bird happened to be furry with four paws and a bushy tail. The story of the "flying squirrel," as described by Melissa to her class, quickly became the buzz of the Windermere Primary School playground, so as a little end-of-the-school-year surprise, I cooked up this little documentary complete with squirrel voice narration.

If you choose to view this, please keep in mind that this was custom-designed for the first grade intellect (which I happen to be keenly aware of), so first downing a bottle of wine (or two) is highly recommended.



Saturday, March 04, 2006

Abdine Video Archive (Part 1)


In the spirit (and giddy anticipation) of Oscar night, I felt inspired to share a small tidbit of my personal video archive with the world in hopes that it will bring hope and inspiration to the yearning masses....or possibly zing a few of my friends for no apparent reason.


Don't be fooled by the expert editing and compelling content...this was only my first foray into the exciting world of home video production!

And yes... you are correct. We ARE all horrible shots.
(Warning for the lady viewers: This will be extremely boring for you and will only reinforce your relatively accurate stereotype that guys act like 14 year old boys when out in the desert with gas/gunpowder driven toys and no supervision)



Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Finding Salvation, 1 Cheesesteak At A Time


The rumor is true. I’m supposed to be on a diet. Not a pansy cabbage-soup-eating diet, but a diet nonetheless.

And really… its not like I really NEED to be on a diet. If you want my honest opinion, dieting really is just an extension of pride.

And pride is evil.

So if A=B and B=C, then A must equal C…

Finally! Proof that dieting is evil!

To truly be a follower of God, one must turn from evil…so one way for ME to turn from evil would be to break my diet.

Which brings me to my short business trip to Philadelphia.

Because I did a pretty decent job so far today of following my diet, as you might expect, I was feeling especially evil.

I needed to be rescued… and quick. So it was certainly not lost on me that I just happened to be in the City Of Brotherly Love on this most evil of days.

And how, might you ask, would Philadelphia be able to deliver me of my burden?

Well, cheesesteaks of course.

You see, I reason that if I eat enough cheesesteak sandwiches while I’m here, then the act of breaking my (evil) diet will most surely cleanse me of my sins… well at least the sins brought on by my stupid diet.

So with only 36 hours to work with, I had to move quickly.

(For those of you wondering how I could possibly spend my short trip here seeking out fat-laden sandwiches instead of visiting the liberty bell and Independence Hall… well… I really have no good excuse other than I expect that it’s only a matter of time before there’ll be a casino re-creation of Philadelphia in Vegas which will probably be way more kick-ass AND have great rooms and 4 star service. “Libertyland” would be a good name… maybe with a giant 20 story neon liberty bell that shoots fireworks and plays the national anthem every 15 minutes right off the strip. They could tear down the Aladdin hotel (citing a national security risk) which would offer a great center-strip location right across from the New York New York Statue of liberty and adjacent to the Paris Hotel! Ha! Take that you socialist frogs!)

Cheesesteak #1 – Leo’s

I started here because a) it was only 3.2 miles from my hotel and b) they’ve won the “best cheesesteak” award for Delaware county the last 5 years in a row. I ordered a small but only ate half due to its lack of flavor and overall dry quality. I ordered it with Provolone, which might have been the problem… Overall, a poor start.

Cheesesteak #2 – Jim’s

My online research directed me to Jim’s as one of the top cheesesteak havens in town. Here you’re supposed to order the cheesesteak as the locals do by calling out: “Heavy on the whiz!” Yes. They use (and adore) cheese whiz here... sort of like the Hawaiians and their fascination with spam. It makes no sense… but when in Rome Actually the whiz was great and the sandwich was quite good. Lots of grease though… but I guess that’s the mark of a truly well prepared sandwich.

Cheesesteak #3 – Ishkabibbles

Normally, I would have walked right by a place like Ishkabibbles, completely oblivious to the gastronomic delights inside but I had the dumb luck of meeting a native Pennsylvanian at a friend’s superbowl party the night before who highly recommended it. To top off my cheesesteak trilogy, I ordered a new variation: steak, white American, onions and peppers (yes I took my Zantac earlier this afternoon). And the verdict? Perfection! Each bite seemed to wash my conscience anew. I felt like a new man, delivered from the yoke of my culinary digressions.

I can now attest to the restorative powers of the most holy of dishes; the Philadelphia cheesesteak (well 3 cheeseteaks in 2 hours to be exact). Yes, I feel like a new man. Albeit a man with a newly clogged left ventricle (is it possible to actually FEEL cholesterol depositing itself to your arteries?).

Now…If only I knew what the Bible says about gluttony…

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Rose Bowl 2006

I have to admit. I didn't deserve to be at the Rose Bowl. I WANTED to be at the Rose Bowl. Boy did I WANT to. But deserve? Hmm...

How can anyone deserve to be handed two beautiful, lovely, shiny rose bowl tickets? I haven't been THAT good this year. Certainly there are more deserving people than I?

But here they are... "People paid $3500 for tickets just like these." I think to myself.

Hands begins to tremble.

"Very rich donors have invested big dollars... for 35 years.... waiting for this opportunity... and couldn't get tickets."

Sweat begins to bead on forehead.

Alan.... remind yourself to thank Carol Baker for brokering this transaction...she has worked a miracle for you.

And so my day begins:

8:40 AM: I wake up. Vision of sugar plums and crystal national championship trophies dance in my head. My head is groggy and my blood sugar is all jacked up from the countless grams of poor quality carbs ingested over the last 3 weeks. I can feel my pancreas. It is cursing me.

9:02 AM: First sip of coffee. Take that pancreas…you little bastard. I eat some whole grain goody two shoes cereal that my mom has in the cupboard.... Blood sugar levels stabilize… why am I so growly this morning. It’s national championship day yo!

10:29 AM: On the road to the IE (Inland Empire for all you out-of-the-loop Texas folk) Liver now starts hurting. I wonder. “Is this because I’m turning 31 and my body is well on its way to an early death? Or did I just drink too much in Vegas on New Years?”

10:47 AM: I pick up a bottle of Champagne at Trader Joes in Redlands. Presumptuous? Maybe… but if I can get Rose Bowl tickets then ANYTHING can happen.

12:01 PM: Limo is now officially late. I’m agitated. Blood Pressure Rises.

12:03 PM: Limo arrives. Heart attack avoided. Now in good spirits again. Emery, my brother-in-law and LA sporting event compadre, and I hop in the white stretch Lincoln and depart from his house on our Grand Journey to the Rose Bowl.

12:33 PM: We take a quick detour off the hwy to one of the few L&L Hawaiian BBQ’s on the mainland. Hot Dogs and Potato Chips are for amateurs. There’s nothing like tailgating with Chicken Musubi and Raw Ahi Poke!

1:38 PM: We pick up Dax and Stacey at their burnt orange bungalow in Burbank. Yes, they’re hardcore horns fans. Surprise! They contribute home made taquitos and appetizer meatballs to the mix. The party has officially started.

2:44 PM: We are stuck in the ass that is Rose Bowl game day traffic. We are becoming agitated and some of us have to pee. I watch ants scurry along the ground faster than the car is moving. Desperate scalpers and fans meander through the cars looking for tickets.

3:31 PM: I experience the agony and the ecstasy of a Rose Bowl portable toilet. Note to self… find a bush next time.

3:55 PM: We meet up with some friends who hired a bus to shuttle them, their 25 companions and a whole slew of tailgating accoutrements to the game. We enjoy a “pre-game nerve-calming beer” with them.

4:16 PM: We fight through the crowds massed around the gates. Wow! I notice the sea of orangebloods in attendance.

6:15 PM: Game is underway… It’s surreal… very exciting/nerve-racking. A small cluster of us honrs fans gets into a shouting match with some old fart USC Alumni who are whining that we won’t sit down in front of them. Seems they forgot they were at a football game…errr, a NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP football game. Sad really… the effects of senility…

7:10 PM: Halftime. Horns are leading… good game though. Both teams came to play. Score isn’t as high as I was guessing… expected another touchdown or two in the first half, but no matter. Our team showed up. Goody. It’s marching band time… Now THAT’S entertainment!

8:54 PM: 6:42 in the fourth quarter and USC is up 38-26. Ugh. My head starts hurting. So much scoring on both sides… but USC has done it a few more times. Doesn’t look good.

9:25 PM: UT Wins!!!! Oh my gawd! The greatest game I’ve ever seen… Vince Young is amazing! UT 41. Heisman winners 38!

10:10: Finally get out of the Stadium… Post game festivities begin…and so does this entry. “The eyes of texas are upon you…”

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Not moving to So Cal (just yet)

So the big decision of December 2005 is that we're not ready (just yet) to move back to So Cal. Of course, everyone thinks we're crazy. Maybe "crazy" is the wrong word. Mad! is a better adjective (in the British sense of course).

So for historical record, let me lay out the details of the legendary mistake we are about to make so that everyone has ample opportunity to help us make the correct decision before it’s too late.

1. There has been an extraordinarily generous offer made to us involving a gorgeous house at an unbelievable price.

2. There are multiple, potentially (very) lucrative, career upgrade opportunities that have been laid out in front of us… but require us to move to So Cal.

3. All of our family units have made it abundantly clear how much they would like us to be within driving distance to them.

4. We happen to agree with said family units that it would be quite cool to live within driving distance to them.

5. Melissa and I have decided that the next great adventure in our lives requires a miniaturized version of us (hopefully with Melissa’s dominant genes). This of course brings up the conventional wisdom that it is gobs easier to manage a child (i.e. dump the kid off at grandma’s house) while living in close proximity to the fam than it is to try and do it solo in some God forsaken cowtown like Austin, TX.

6. Oh, and don’t let me forget that California is chock full of fun things to do like Snowboarding, surfing, various motor sports that require dirt roads and knobby tires, Star Gazing (the Brad Pitt kind… there’s obviously too much smog in the air to see the swirling mass of hot gas variety), Disneyland and earthquakes.

7. And friends! We really really like our friends (Big ups to all our So Cal friends who are reading this).

A rational person would look at this list and say “golly Alan and Melissa” what the heck are you thinking staying in George Dubya Bushland USA? Do you really want to be known as a Red Stater? Even worse… A REPUBLICAN? (foreboding music fires up in the background).

But alas, we never claimed to be rational. I mean we’re evangelical Christians for Buddha’s sake! How could anyone ever confuse us for rational human beings. Now sarcasm? That’s another situation altogether. Sarcasm is OK. I’m fairly certain there are plenty of references to the holiness of sarcasm in the bible… at least the translation that I read…

Y’know… it really comes down to one thing.

There happens to be a place where you can get really good margaritas down on South Congress Street.

Sorry family, friends, career and house.

Drunkenness wins.

Monday, December 19, 2005

The First Ever Abdine Family Christmas Letter!

(editor's note: I admit. This is a cop-out post. It's basically a regurgitation of the christmas letter we sent out this year... i figured I'd try to get a bit more mileage out of it by posting it here since I obviously have been neglecting my blogging duties as of late. enjoy! ;)

I give up. I can’t argue with my lovely, intelligent and ultra-persuasive wife any longer. Even my usual tactic of “ignore and retreat” doesn’t seem to be working. You see, she’s been hounding me for 3 weeks now to write this Christmas letter describing all the fantastic adventures we’ve had this year. Furthermore, she demands that it be “clever.”

I have no idea where she got the idea that I was clever. Wordy? Sure. Incoherent? Possibly. But Clever? Honey, 43 emails a day does not a clever writer make. But alas, I’m here… forced to compress a year’s worth of life experiences into a single page of “clever” prose…

So where do I start? I could begin by telling you about my 2 week trip to China with my mom and grandfather while shamelessly promoting my travel blog (which, by the way, is a rollicking good read, available for your enjoyment now at http://alanabdine.blogspot.com). Or maybe I can tell y’all about our trip to The Big Island of Hawaii and our lava-hunting adventures that culminated in us becoming slightly lost, dehydrated and dizzy from inhaling too much volcano dust.
Another direction I considered was the “reality TV” approach where I could recite a list of normal, everyday life events such as how our teaching and sales jobs are going or about the challenges we’ve endured in our quest to become parents. But as I wrote and crumpled the numerous versions of this letter, I realized that the best way for us to tell you our story would be over a couple of margaritas at our favorite Tex-Mex dive.

So for lack of a more “clever” intro I’ll take a cue from Letterman and present you with the:

Top Ten Reasons To Get Your Rear To Austin (Right Quick!)

10. DUCK TOUR! (nuff said)


9. You can play a game of “you know what” with Moby. (hint: flashlight)

8. There might be a band or two…or 50 that’s playing tonight.

7. South Congress is getting cooler by the day…come quick before it becomes to hip for even you!

6. Oh and don’t forget about downtown. It’s not just for drunk 20 year olds anymore…

5. Alamo Draft House: The best movie theater in the country? Town Lake Loop: The best urban hike and bike trail on earth? 1.2 million bats darkening the skies during their nightly exodus from under the Congress Bridge: The weirdest city tourist attraction in the Western Hemisphere? YOU BE THE JUDGE!

4. You will finally be able to fulfill your lifelong fantasy to use “fix’n to go,” “y’all”, “dang”, “whoowee”, “that there” and “ever did see” in normal, everyday conversation and have someone completely understand what you are talking about. Example: WHOOOOWEEE! That there’s the biggest dang Wal-Mart I ever did see. I’m fix’n to go. Y’all two wanna come?

3. Taste that? That’s pure liquid margarita joy found at Guero’s Taco Bar.

2. An extra five pounds will fill you out nicely…The Salt Lick BBQ can help!

1. Oh my gaaaawd… There’s Matthew McConaughey! And he’s playing bongo drums naked!

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Retrospective

I wanted to wait a bit after I returned home before I wrote my final thoughts on the trip. I wondered how some time away from China might color my memories, or bring me to some previously unexpected conclusions.

Generally speaking, my experiences have stuck pretty similarly in memory as they played out in real life.

One new realization I’ve had is the important role my travel companions played throughout the trip.

Roaming with mom and grandfather, both of whom have traveled around the globe many times previously, was a once in a lifetime opportunity that I don’t think I really was able to appreciate until well into the trip. Their combined travel experiences have placed them in practically every continent and sub-region in the world giving them a global perspective that helped put many of our experiences into context. It also helped that my mom, a recent graduate student, used her well-trod research skills to pepper our visits to each tourist location with fun facts and historical perspective – a welcome departure from the canned, government-approved presentation by our guides.

We also had the good fortune to have family in Shanghai. I can’t say enough about the incredible hospitality shown to us by Brad, Kenny and Lai, my aunts and uncles in Shanghai who toured us around their city, feeding us amazing food and skillfully directing us through the local markets like only a local can.

Finally, a big shout out is in order for the very cool Canadians, Australians and Irish we met during the trip.

We were lucky to have traveled with an especially entertaining group including:

• Leslie: a supremely funny Australian guy who was constantly cracking hysterical but sometimes inappropriate jokes. Leslie was too jolly for his own good. Like a rough hewn ex-military santa clause with rosy cheeks and a sharp tongue….if that makes any sense at all.

• Brian & Anne: A very cool young couple from Dublin who made great drinking companions (duh, their irish!). Thanks to Brian, I now know more about the complexities of “correct” Guinness beer drinking and International rules football/rugby than I ever thought possible.

• Sojii: A cool guy from Canada who was a great companion to navigate the Chinese nightlife with. Sojii could easily pass for a Chinese mafia hitman if he wasn’t securing the streets of Vancouver as a cop. Although he was probably the most subdued guy in the group, you’d definitely want him on your side if some shit went down in some Chinese back-alley.

• Imran: An Australian guy and recent college grad traveling with his parents. Imran was another member of our gang who went out terrorizing the locals. I don't think he was counting on carousing around each night when he prepared for the trip as he apparantly did not pack anything other than polyester basketball shorts and t-shirts to wear. So when you see those new sports-oriented fashions coming out of Shanghai next year, you'll know who started it.

Despite all the inherent shortcomings... the group tour travel format really works by bringing together like-minded world travelers from all over the world. It's a great way to see and experience new places...and interestingly enough...the perfect way to tutor the Chinese intelligence community on Western cultures and language!

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Special Guest Post: Grandpa Fred

Today's post is a special guest entry from my grandfather describing his adventures with my mom in Kunming following my departure from Shanghai...


I’ve been waiting a month for divine revelation to tell me how to add on to the end of Alan’s blog about our China trip, but alas, it has not come. The words have been buzzing around in my head all this time, so it is time to get them out.

The road (paved road) ends about 5km out of Kunming. From there it is only rough stones about the size of two bricks. These stones are uneven, so it’s very rough. Our van rattles and vibrations to the extent that we must shout to carry on a conversation. We are on way to Lake Nuguru which is about 200km from Kunming and will take us about six hours to get there.

Our driver doesn’t speak English but it is evident that he has driven this road many times. It is breakneck speed all the way and this is on mountain roads that ascend to ridges and then descend into valleys. Out driver explains with his hands that there are six more ridges to cross. Anything that moves up ahead must be passed, so we bear down on them and shoot past no matter what lies ahead. In addition there are numerous rock slides that have fallen on the road and in some places the road is washed away with only one lane remaining. You might say that the road itself is “a trip.” Our driver is in love with his horn, blowing it at everything that moves or might move along the way. He blows it on curves , also, which is a good thing.

Alan left us in Shanghai where Brad very graciously supplied transport to the airport for him. Later, after a five hour delay, we flew south on China Eastern, one of China’s excellent domestic airlines. We were met at the Kunming airport and taken to a prominent hotel which had an impressive lobby but nonfunctioning plumbing (we had to change rooms).

The next day it was a two hour flight to Lijang, an ancient city that is the home of the Naxi minority group. We had planned to make this part of the trip on our own, but thankfully, Dr. Peter Tang and Brad realized that would need help so they made arrangements for us. ijang reminded me of Waikiki. The Naxi culture was there somewhere but it was hard to find with all the souvenir shops, restaurants and bars catering to tourists from all over the world, but mainly from China itself. We found a place called Sakoura that served everything from congee to crepes for breakfast.

Out accommodations were in a guest house (“300 years old”) perched on the side of a hill with tiny passageways and doorways. The beds were the hardest yet but that was the least of our problems. There might have been a shower somewhere but it wasn’t in our room. Toilets were down the hall.

One evening we attended a concert of traditional Naxi music, a must in Lijang. This same music with ancient instruments was performed for the last emperor of China hundreds of years ago. Lots of clangs and bells played by wonderful old men who were very serious about there performance. Every afternoon the Naxi ladies in there traditional dress performed their dances in an open plaza……just like the Kodak hula show in Honolulu.

This morning it was into the van and off to Lake Nuguru. We finally go over the last ridge and drop down toward the extensive lake dotted with several islands. Instead of going to our “hotel” the driver took us down to the lake shore. We were ushered out and into a rough hewn canoe with about eight others and paddled off toward one of the islands that had a pagoda. Numerous other boats were going and coming and being paddled by minority ladies in their colorful dress as well as some men.

We climbed to the pagoda and found that it was a Tibetan Buddhist with prayer wheels around the outside. Prayer flags fluttered from lines strung among the trees and wild dahlias marked the landscape. Judy spoke to the monk on duty inside.

Then it was back into the boats and back to where we started.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

275 MPH And No Seat Belts

"Crap this is fast" is all I could think as we rocketed along the concrete track at 430 km/h (275 mph) on the Maglev Bullet train in Shanghai.

"Hmm, no seat belts."

Not like seat belts would do a whole lot in a crash anyway.

The Maglev Bullet train was an exciting but wholly unnatural experience. I think it may be the fastest commercial train in the world right now. A top speed of 275 mph thanks to a precisely tuned magnetic cushion and some brilliant German engineering.

The train follows a single route; a short 10 minute ride from the Shanghai business center to the international airport... and then back again. Not exactly a scenic tour, but then again, you can't see a whole lot when you're clipping along at 1/3 the speed of sound...on the ground.

It's a suprisingly smooth ride, except when you pass the oncoming train on the adjacent track...also speeding at 275mph. That's when you hear/feel the loud THUMP of the two air streams smashing into each other at combined speed faster than a Commercial jet at crusing speed.

New pictures of Maglev Train and Video Of Train Ride

Shanghai: World’s Largest Rolex and Louis Vuitton Outlet Store

Wow, what a deal!

2 authentic* Louis Vuitton bags for $35 bucks!

2 genuine** Rolex watches for 15 bucks!

I must have good karma or something (thank you feudal serf me from 800 years ago!)

When we arrived at shanghai, the last city stop on our grand tour, we had no idea that we were entering the world’s greatest city-sized Outlet Mall.

No, at the time, we were more concerned about the Typhoon that was predicted to hit us the next day.

Silly me to think that I was escaping the natural disasters currently plaguing the US! It seems God dislikes communists just about as much as he detests red-staters and neo-cons…

The Typhoon, thankfully, was not the second coming of Katrina. It churned out just enough rain and wind to clear out the smog for one good day of site seeing and picture taking.

Shanghai, unlike the other cities visited, is a city mostly devoid of the historic tourist sites we were used to visiting. Instead, the real draw of Shanghai seemed to be the cosmopolitan identity it has acquired throughout its interesting history. While the traffic and overpopulation was similar to the other large cities we visited, the overall feel of the city was much more Western in nature (almost space-age in some respects!) with towering skyscrapers (one of which is the fifth tallest in the world) and older, classical western European influenced structures – a stark departure from the sterile utilitarian designs in Beijing and Xian.

After a day of driving to the tourist spots, which aren’t interesting enough to write about here, we felt like we were more than ready for the power shopping that would dominate the remainder of our stay.

Before I go any further, I think a little clarification is in order. When I speak of shopping, I’m not referring to the khaki-pants-buying-at-the-mega-mall variety that (strangely) seemed to attract most of the others in the group (don’t they have malls back at home?).

Nah, I’ve had enough of South Coast Plaza to last me for awhile.

What I’m referring to is “guy shopping.” Y'know.... the shady kind that involves, back-room negotiations for pirate dvd’s, fake swiss watches, grey market electronics and maybe a designer handbag or two for my wife thrown in for good measure.

Throughout the city, strategically placed near the established markets and malls, are groups of shopping “assistants” whose sole purpose is to bring interested buyers to the secretive shops that cater to the fake brand-name product bargain hunter. Usually these shops are accessible only through secret trap doors located behind display cases at legitimate “front” stores but sometimes they can be setup at an apartment or at the end of a series of stairways and inconspicuous doors that seem to lead to the other side of nowhere.

The shopping experience at these shops is not for the queasy or shy. Their initial prices are ridiculously inflated and are intended to make a mockery of amateur negotiators. After some trial and error and a few rip-offs, I figured out that you can really only expect to get the “right” price after about 15-20 minutes of dramatic hand waving, exasperated facial expressions and at least two fake walk aways (which always result in them running after you with a “sir, tell me your best price” plea from the shopkeeper.)

Quite frankly, this method really provided more entertainment value than anything. But I did score a couple of high quality “Louis Vuitton” handbags for Melissa for under 40 bucks!

One can really only tolerate this process for a couple of days. The constant squawks of “sir, you want rolex…your want louis vuitton…you want versace… and the occasional arm grab by the super-pushy shop owners gets old real fast. Once I acquired my booty, and the suitcase to transport it back to the states, I made like a stray dog walking by a Chinese dumpling factory and disappeared.

* Authenticity confirmed by enthusiastic declaration and many promises made by handbag sales associate

** Rolexes were deemed genuine due to the genuine-looking rolex symbol on watch face

New Pictures: The Bund and Jade Buddha and Lu Gardens and Shopping/Misc.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Budweiser Tastes Better In Southern China

The Chinese know how to party. Faggedabout any myth you’ve heard about Chinese gene incompatibility with alcohol.

They’ve also figured out the whole nightlife scene as well. Each city we visited had a hot, happening and crowded bar and club district with high-end clubs comparable to the elite night spots in LA, New York and Vegas.

We happened upon one of these joints quite by accident after a kick-ass post dinner hour long reflexology foot massage (costing a whopping 12 bucks!).

We skipped out on the tour bus back to the hotel, bidding farewell to our happy footed friends and ventured out to see what Saturday night Guilin had to offer.

Although the hotel concierge suggested there might be a few bar areas downtown, we didn’t have any expectations, especially considering this was supposedly such a tiny little podunk Chinese town of only 600,000. But as we rounded the corner onto the major city blvd…

HOLY KUNG PAO EATING INSOMNIAC BATMAN! LOOK AT ALL THE PEOPLE!

We made our way to the bar district, walking past thousands of late nighting Guilinites who were checking out the 50 or so street fair booths hocking all varieties of handicrafts, food and the latest greatest cure-all Chinese potions.

The bar district was real cool with at least 10-15 night clubs and bars, each with Neon-lit signs and booming dance music pouring out from open doors and windows. For a moment, I thought I was back home on Sixth Street during a particularly raucous weekend party night.

We walked into one of the noisier clubs; a place that came recommended by our Guilin tour guide and took a seat at one of the tables. The place was packed and had all the familiar night club elements from home including a DJ, ear to his headphone, intently mixing the next track on dual turntables; light and laser displays including a huge LED light installation behind the DJ booth with an eye-popping, choreagraphed light display; wide screen, flat panel TVs with the latest European music videos playing and…. THE BUD GIRLS???

What the…?

"How strange is THIS??" I thought to myself.

I’m in a little city in Central China at a nightclub that could easily be the hottest spot on South Beach listening to really good house music and drinking a bottle of Budweiser I just purchased from the Chinese Bud Girls.

This was so surreal.

And then as fate would have it… it got even better. A girl from the audience stood up on a raised platform directly in front of the DJ booth, the DJ slapped a new disc on the turntable…a faintly familiar melody remixed to include a deep bass line… And she starts singing: HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME BY BRITTANY SPEARS!...IN ENGLISH NO LESS!

This was too good to be true. And oh did she work that song. This girl belted out the Brittany like she was on the finale of Chinese-American Idol…

And then a hidden rumbling from deep within…. I was overcome by an urgent need to dance. It must have been the Brittany….or the 3 Smooth, Crisp, Beachwood Aged Budweisers I just downed. Either way, I couldn’t deny the slow rhythmic lurchings of my waist.

Crap. Not now! Must…. Stop…..Hips….And….White….Man’s….Overbite…

Damn You Snake Wine!

Then I remembered …we were the only white people at the club. Well, actually, I was the only white person as my cohorts were Canadians of Asian descent. And boy did my blonde buzz-cut head glow. I looked like Super Honky covered with extra mayo and finished with two fresh slices of Wonder Bread.

If I started dancing, I would surely become the newest comedy sensation in all of Asia.

Thankfully, the angel on my shoulder prevailed and I planted my ass squarely on the chair… but not without a slight head bob from time to time.

After a few more Budweisers, I decided to let my photography subjects party in peace, so I left the club and looked for a ride back to the hotel.

Against the strong recommendations by our tour guide NOT to use the very dangerous local motorcycle taxi cab transportation system (remember… the Chinese drive like shite!), I strapped on a plastic contruction worker “helmet” with no padding and held on for dear life for a 10 minute ride back to the hotel.

New Pictures: GUILIN NIGHT CLUB and GUILIN MISCELLANOUS

Snake Wine Shooters On The Li River

The next stop on our grand tour was Guilin. Described by our city guide Carol as a “small town” of 600,000, it was the most beautiful of the 4 cities we visited. While still very Chinese in its character, the majority of the city was restored about 8 years ago so all the city squares, streets and buildings had the neat and manicured look of suburbia – a stark contrast from the worn, working class neighborhoods and new gleaming high rises or Beijing and Xian.

While there are many temples and Pagodas to explore in Guilin (I need to see another pagoda like I need a hole in my head) the main draw of this city and surrounding area are the breathtaking mountain ranges that surround the city and adjacent Li river.

We arrived at the boat launch early in the morning the day after our arrival. Like everywhere else we’ve been, this was another one of those tourist spots with the infrastructure to efficiently channel large herds of tourists for their once-in-a-lifetime experiences.

We boarded one of the fifteen 70 person capacity boats sitting at the dock and found a seat at one of the 8 person tables arranged on the lower, enclosed and air conditioned decks where we would later be served lunch.

The 5 hour cruise started without much delay and suddenly I found myself in a new part of China. The industrial monstrosities of Beijing and Xian quickly faded away as we navigated down a river that snaked into the countryside, inhabited by people who relied more on the wealth of the land than the pocketbooks of tourists.

I joined the rest of the people on the boat and quickly made my way to the open air upper deck where we had an unobstructed view of the mountain ranges, animals and locals who lived and worked on the river.

The boat seemed to tip from side to side as people hurried from port to starboard and back trying to photograph all of curiosities we passed.

Some of the highlights included:

  • Majestic mountain ranges – the ones that the Chinese scroll artists seem to be imagining when painting those mystic fog shrouded peaks.
  • The goat herders, farmers and fisherman crouched on the shore tending their crops, daily catch or unruly goats
  • The parasitic “Kling-ons” who would latch their long bamboo rafts to the side of the moving boat and try to hock their cheap wares to the amused passengers on board.
  • The groups of children who would swim up to the boat, hands outstretched, yelling for spare coins to be thrown to them
  • Tired water buffalo cooling off in the water.
  • Boats with Cormorant birds, napping after a long night of fishing. (There are still fisherman who practice this ancient technique where trained birds dive underwater and bring fish back to their master. Rings placed around their necks prevent them from swallowing their catch.)
All of these curiosities provided a good 3 hours of picture taking opportunities, but after our onboard lunch, a few of us were looking for another diversion to help us pass the remaining 2 hours of our voyage.

That’s when I noticed the snake wine.

During her introduction of Guilin the day before, our tour guide mentioned some of the local Chinese medicine cures that are integral to the health care in the region. One of these medicines was a locally produced moonshine of snake soaked rice wine.

I didn’t actually expect to come across this exotic brew but there it was at the bar, a large bottle of “3 Snake Wine” with no less than all 3 of said snakes submerged in the bottle, their health-giving essence slowly merging with the slightly yellow tinged rice liquor.

Oh man, I gotta have me some of this snake hooch!

Cancer? Heart Disease? Impotence? Not in my lifetime! I heard it even cures general malaise and crankiness. Obviously I HAD to drink some… if only for Melissa’s benefit!

So I went around to some of the other people in the tour group and found 4 other accomplices to split the cost for a bottle.

Our bottle which was slightly smaller than the display only contained one snake but the label still claimed that cobra, rattlesnake and field snake were all used in its production. Thank God I thought. As its common knowledge that Cobra is the healthiest and most tasty!

By this time, our interest in ancient Chinese medicine produced a small gathering of curious spectators.

We each poured shot sized servings and prepared our beer chasers.

Down the hatch!

Wow that was nasty… yet smooth at the same time!

The taste would best be described as a combination of Japanese Sake and cheap tequila with subtle tones of formaldehyde and fish jerky.

Sojii, my new buddy from Toronto compared the flavor to snake ass which now that I think about it, is probably spot on though I’ve never actually tasted the ass of a snake.

After waiting a good 5 minutes, just to be sure we didn’t all keel over and die miserable and painful deaths, we finished the bottle. My mom even took a shot. Go mom!

Feeling slightly inebriated, probably due to my new found cancer fighting ability and virility, I went back to the upper deck to enjoy the rest of the cruise.

New Pictures of: LI RIVER CRUISE AND SOME HILLS AROUND GUILIN

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Frozen Army Of Stone

Xian is known as the home of the Spectacular Terracotta Soldier Army. Discovered in 1976 by a farmer digging a well, the terracotta army is the meticulously crafted life-size clay army built to protect the tomb of Emperor Qin Shi Huang.

Apparently the guy was really freaked out about dying so after trying a number of immortality potions, he finally gave up trying to live forever and decided the next best thing would be to create a majestic tomb with massive army to retain his power after death. He figured the best way to do this is force 100s of thousands of workers and artisans over the course of his lifetime to construct an underground tomb and more importantly 10s of thousands of life size soldiers to protect him.

The soldiers were made of terra cotta, and individually hand constructed to show detailed facial and hair features. Furthermore, horses, carriages and weapons were all included to create an exact replica of his real-life standing army.

No big deal right? Just another ancient ruler with an Oedipus complex…? Not quite. The shear magnitude of this archaeological find is staggering… prompting the accurate comparison to the Pyramids in Egypt or Mayan Ruins in Mexico.

So far, a little over 8000 have been uncovered and reconstructed, in 3 separate digs. These digs were our destination for our only full day in Xian.

Although the site is an hour outside of Xian in a sparsely populated part of the countryside, the government spared no expense on the facilities. The excavated sites were covered by huge blimp-hanger shaped buildings, providing accurate protection for the soldiers as well as plenty of space for the millions of visitors each year.

Additionally, there was a large museum showcasing some of the horses and carriages recovered, a decent restaurant custom-designed to handle multiple tour-bus sized groups for lunch and a circle vision move theater a la Disneyland which showed a goofy old Chinese-produced re-creation/documentary film which didn’t afford any additional insight into the history of the soldiers but did provide vertigo and neck cramps.

The big payoff of course were the soldiers themselves. We toured each of the 3 excavations, with the grand finale being the big room with 6000 of the soldiers.

I tried my best to take pictures which showed the shear scope of the excavations, but the pictures don’t do it justice. The final room was so large; it had its own hazy atmosphere. It was as if there was still dust hanging in the air kicked up from the horses and soldiers, frozen in a fierce attack stance, ready at any moment to spring to life and charge toward an invisible foe.

New Pictures: TERRACOTTA SOLDIERS, WILD GOOSE PAGODA, XIAN CITY WALL, XIAN OTHER

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Sweaty Herbert

We flew to Xian after a solid 5 days in Beijing and were greeted at the airport by our anti-perspirant challenged local guide “Herbert.”

Herbert, while not showing the polished professionalism and charm our secret-service-grade Beijing Guide Emily demonstrated, was an adequate leader and all-around fine fellow. So in honor of our time spent together, I have composed a Haiku for my clammy new friend:

Drops of rain on head
Trickle down like magic stream
Birds bathe in delight

Alternative Protein Sources

(Warning: In a feable attempt to remain clever far after his single ounce of creative juice was wasted on a 5 Tsing Tao beer induced post to his blog yesterday, the author has decided to stoop to the lowest common creative denominator and use stomach-churning imagery to maintain the interest of his dwindling readership (a big shout out to you two!). Please set down your corn dogs and Yoplait cups before reading further…)

Before my trip to China, I was concerned about only two things:

  1. The quality and safety of Chinese domestic airlines (totally unwarranted by the way. The planes, facilities and security are as good if not better than in the states.)
  2. The food and corresponding sanitation issues.

So in preparation, I said a few pre-trip safe travel prayers and packed enough medicine to inoculate me against SARS, Bird Flu and whatever new gastrointestinal pestilence the Chinese food industry could invent.

However, most of this paranoia was pointless once I realized that a central tenet of the Well-oiled Communist Tourism Machine is to provide uncreative, westernized Chinese food at every opportunity.

The food so far has followed this unfailing pattern:

  1. We sit down at a large 10 person table with monstrous lazy susan which covers about ¾ of the total table space.
  2. We individual pick at the various pickled Chinese appetizers, usually pieces of pickled bamboo with spices or chunks of plain cucumber or freshly wok’d peanuts with a sprig of cilantro.
  3. The waitresses walk around with large bottles of sprite, coca cola or the local beer and fill your glass with your preferred beverage.
  4. Individual dishes are carried out and placed on the lazy susan in succession, usually in 5 minute increments and total about 6-10 different varieties. The food sometimes includes regional dishes but usually focus on simple, non-exotic items like stir fried vegetable, chicken or fish entrees.
  5. The rice is brought out AFTER all of the above. Usually by the time everyone is starting to finish. I haven’t figure out if this is poor service or cultural.
  6. The soup is brought out following the rice. To cleanse the palate?
  7. And finally: WATERMELON! The Chinese LOVE watermelon. It’s ubiquitous, and included at the end of every meal.

Sure, the routine is fun, social and safe but after about 10 times, it gets a tad old. Needless to say, we were looking for a change.

So we decided to skip the group Beijing Duck and Opera evening and step out into the city naked to whatever China had to offer.

I’ve always considered myself an adventurous eater. By adventurous, I’m speaking mainly of the foreign onion and spice laden foods predominately found in the Vietnamese, Indian and Persian neighborhoods found in larger cities.

But like most people I have my limits. I’m not talking about the mystery meat dumplings found at shady dim sum restaurants or the aromatic Vietnamese Pho that uses MOST parts of the cow and stays with you for a good 12 hours. No, I’m talking about TV-grade food nastiness: the slimy, crunchy stuff found on shows like Cook’s tour, Travel Sick, Survivor and Fear Factor that elicits groans and dry heaving from its viewers.

Hoping to avoid such things, but still enjoy some local fare, we took a cab to a part of town called Wanfujin Street. It’s a large, high end shopping district with shiny name brand clothing, book and department stores.

Wanfujin street was a-bustlin' this evening with hordes of well-off locals and a few tourists. Hungry, we passed the McDonalds,KFC and Outback steak house branches making a wide berth around the hordes of bleary eyed westerners who haven’t yet acclimated to Asian eating and made our way to the Night Market.

The Night Market as described by my travel book is a small offshoot of Wanfujin street lined with vendors selling “small eats” - sort of a Beijing influenced type of dim sum.

Although arranged in an orderly line, the crowds, noise and odors pumping from the small, orange tarp roofed vendors created a bazaar-like atmosphere.

We walked over to the first booth and peered over at the selection. Their arrangement, as were most of the booths we encountered, was dominated by stacked rows of various skewered meats. Chicken, beef and pork were pretty easy to spot, but there were an equal assortment of animal food products which can best be described as “innards.”

Next booth… same thing…. Mostly. Here there were some new entries including squid, some eggs (that weren’t chicken size) and…. OH! Snake on a stick! Yikes.

We passed a few more booths similar to these two, and then stumbled upon the Night Market house of horrors.

Here we found the food distributor for Fear Factor. Rows upon rows of silkworms, crickets, centipedes, more snake (multiple varieties), something that looked like blood sausage and what appeared to be embryonic birds – all skewered and neatly arranged ready to make many happy bellies.

Pass!

We made it to the end, turned and started back along the path of gastronomic delights when I remembered: It was dinner time!

I started out with something tame, a skewer of beef that was deep fried, salted and then roasted for a few minutes over an open flame.

Then I moved on to something that looked a whole lot scarier but still acceptable to most American tastes: squid on a stick. While the thing looked like something out of the movie Aliens, it tasted no different than the calamari found at most Italian restaurants, sans the breading and tomato sauce. Nevertheless, it’s red pepper flaked tentacles flailing in the early evening breeze did slightly gross me out.

We finally reached our starting point again… but not before devouring some freshly prepared vegetable dumplings reminiscent of good Hong Kong style dim sum.

But wait! I’m missing something here. I just came halfway across the world to experience something new and cultural, and the best I can do is beef satay and calamari, both of which can be had at Disney-freakin-land??

“Not good enough” I said to myself. I need something different…something I can’t get at the Olive Garden or PF Changs. I need something crunchy…something with legs still attached…something with a stinger…something like… SCORPIONS!

I dizzily walked back toward the table with the bugs … not sure what had come over me. “I can’t even eat my eggs runny!” I thought to myself. “How was I supposed to consume a scorpion?”

No matter, I was on a mission…and needed the pictures to prove it. So with 15 Yuan in hand (about 2 bucks), I purchased my 3 scorpion skewer from the Frankenshop of food horrors.

Without hesitating I handed the camera to my mom, bought a can of YangYing beer and took a bite.

Crunch.

(10 second lapse)

Crunch

(another 5 seconds)

Crunch crunch crunch!

Hey not bad! It tastes like buttered popcorn!

Gulp. (beer now half gone)

Another bite and the critter ceased to exist.. 1 scorpion down the hatch and no heaving on the street! Success!

The other two were promptly trashed. I didn’t want to push my luck and spray my accomplishment on the street for all to see.

At this point, the green look on my mom’s face signaled the end of our cultural experience so we grabbed some more non-threatening dumplings and hopped in a cab to check out the lighted kite flying on Tiananmen Square, a popular Beijing family tradition.

New Pictures from the NIGHT MARKET ... LAMA TEMPLE (tibetan buddhism) ... MISC. PICTURES FROM BEIJING

Previously added pics:

...HUTONG

...MING TOMBS

...GREAT WALL

...TEMPLE OF HEAVEN

...TIANANMEN SQUARE/FORBIDDEN CITY

...SUMMER PALACE

...PLANE AND ARRIVAL TO BEIJING

Sunday, September 11, 2005

Authentic Beijing Neighborhood?

On the last full day of our stay in Beijing, we paid for an optional tour of a typical Beijing “Hutong.”

A Hutong is a small traditional working class neighborhood where multiple families cluster in meager, flat roofed building with common bathrooms and kitchens. Although an integral part of Beijing’s history, they are practically extinct, quickly being razed and replaced by 50+ floor skyscrapers.

In an effort to defray some of the obvious PR issues associated with the systematic destruction of these neighborhoods, they’ve identified about 50 Hutongs which will be preserved, one of which we visited during our tour.

When deciding to take the tour, we were hoping for a small piece of authentic Chinese working class life. We’ve seen plenty of restored temples, palaces and pagodas. Here was our chance to see another side of the city.

Unfortunately what we ended up getting was another coordinated, government sponsored tourist destination.

The whole tour had the stench of a finely crafted public relations campaign.

Where were the poverty-stricken that we’ve had glimpses of down other, dirtier Hutong streets?

Why were there so many new roofs and freshly painted walls?

Why was the “local resident” that we visited as part of the tour not actually answering the questions posed, instead standing quietly by as the tour guide answered for her?

I'm torn about this trip. On one hand, I enjoyed the change of scenery. It really was different from the other, more developed areas of Beijing. On the other hand, I'm disapointed that we were directed to a not-so-accurate representation of a traditional Hutong.

New Pictures from the HUTONG

Previously added pics:

...MING TOMBS

...GREAT WALL

...TEMPLE OF HEAVEN

...TIANANMEN SQUARE/FORBIDDEN CITY

...SUMMER PALACE

...PLANE AND ARRIVAL TO BEIJING

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Camels, Coffee And The Seventh Wonder Of The World

Armed with my double water bottle holstered, uber-nerd fanny pack (with ergonomic upolsterd back pad), we set out on day three of our trip to become “Heroes” on the Great Wall.

As an American, I already consider myself a hero; a crusader of peace and justice, a bringer of freedom to all the world’s people (whether they want it or not), but today, I wanted to live up to Chairman Mao’s expectation for every Chinese citizen worth their soy sauce to climb the great wall at least once in their lifetime.

So what better place to accomplish this most honorable of endeavors but to participate in the swarm of humanity that is called Badaling.

Badaling is the most restored section of the Great Wall, practically rebuilt from the ground up to provide a proper location for the world’s Kodak moments and David Copperfield television specials. Likewise, it has all the telltale markings of a tourist’s wet dream (or nightmare depending on who you ask).

While a seasoned adventurer might choose a more authentic Great Wall experience by purposefully avoiding this area and opting for a half-day hike along many of the other equally beautiful and less crowded sections, Badaling has been masterfully designed to provide the most convenient point of entry for Great Wall (quarter)daytrippers.

First, and most importantly, there is a massive parking lot well-suited for the convoy of tour busses that haul their cargo to and fro each day. Secondly there are plenty of gift, snack and coffee shops to provide a comfortable retreat for weary trekkers after their harrowing 15 minute march to a point high enough on the wall to snap a good pic. And of course, there are the numerous, ever-present peddlers hocking mao wat

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Tiananmen Square, Forbidden City And Other Very Large Spaces

Day 1 of the actual Tour seemed to follow the theme: Places Where Large Numbers Of People Can Loiter

The first stop of the day was a quickie at the Temple Of Heaven. We couldn’t get into the actual temple, which was a bummer, due to renovation, but we were able to tour the gardens.

The temple was closed for renovation, but the gardens were very interesting. It’s a huge expanse with intertwining walkways amidst trees and lawns where there are scores of locals, both old and young, engaged in various activities including ballroom dancing, kung fu, tai chi, fan dancing and hackey sack. For those uninterested in the physical activities, there are long open-air hallways where we encountered groups of old men exchanging money over Mahjong, and little old ladies singing old Chinese songs to small clustered groups of onlookers. We even had the pleasure of hearing a choppy version of Yankee Doodle Dandy awkwardly honked out on an old Saxophone as we walked by (this was especially amusing since we three where the only Americans from the group of 39 who are mostly Canadian and Australian).

Our next stop was Tiananmen Square which is much grander and larger than any picture can suggest. This is when the giant nationalistic symbols: Portraits of Mao, Chinese Flags and Various Government Buildings and Statues remind you that you are in the Most Powerful Communist Nation in the world.

As we drove past it to the parking lot for the bus, we were able to see the mult-hour long line of people waiting for access in to the Mao Zedong Memorial where the actual body of Mao is encased in a glass case for all to see set in suspended animation assisted by six gallons of formaldehyde pumped into his body immediately after his death.

The grounds of Tiananmen Square were jam packed with Asian & Western tourists, most of who were surrounded by the persistent street vendors selling books of postcards, Rolex knockoffs and cheap had waving mao watches which in my opinion are the goofiest, most perfect souvenirs ever imagined.

We didn’t stand in line for the corpse-of-Mao show or for any of the museums, as we were saving our legs for the march through the Forbidden City…

The Forbidden City is probably best described through pictures (see link at bottom) or by watching The Last Emperor which was partly filmed on location. Like the Temple of Heaven, much of the Forbidden City is under renovation but luckily wasn’t closed to tourists. But just like the art museums in Europe, you can get burnt out quickly by the sheer number of wow-take-a-picture-of-that views.

Following a short lunch, we arrived at our final stop for the day, the Summer Palace. Like the Temple of the Moon, and the Forbidden City, there were plenty of good picture taking opportunities including the large man-made lake adjacent to the palace grounds, the hand painted hallways, and abundant, beautifully designed palace guest houses and servants quarters that seem to magically spring up from the sides of the mountains.

The summer palace is best know for the “world’s largest” corridor which is open air, roughly the width of two Americans, about ¼ - 1/3 of a mile long and covered in thousands of handpainted Chinese landscapes and mythological scenes.

By this time, I was totally exhausted and burnt out… and am still dog tired while I write this, so while the marble boat statue and creaky old dragon boat ride deserve at least another 1000 words of explanation, I’ll let the pictures tell the story…

New pictures from the TEMPLE OF HEAVEN... TIANANMEN SQUARE/FORBIDDEN CITY... and SUMMER PALACE

Previously added pics:

...PLANE AND ARRIVAL TO BEIJING

Cooking Expertise

We start each day in Beijing with a breakfast at the hotel. It is buffet style with an assortment of continental, American and Asian items. Nothing really interesting to report here except for the cooking utensil of choice used by the egg station cook. Apparently he has decided that a flat wooden stick approximately twice the width of a chopstick to be the most efficient tool to cook eggs with. I find it comical the amount of effort exerted in trying to manage the cooking egg, hopelessly sticking to the pan edges.

I've thought about suggesting to him the brilliant invention called the spatula, but he doesn't look like the kind of person who would bother with such ridiculous observations that early in the morning. So I've left frustrated-enough alone and thank him kindly each morning for my stabbed-to-death omelet.

Chinese Spy Games Update

Well it turns out that my Chinese secret agent friend is actually a tour guide in training. So much for my James Bondesque fantasies of Chinese secret agents hot on my trail…

But now, I’ve realized that I’ve been duped. All along it turns out, kind, sweet Emily; tour-guide extraordinaire, is ACTUALLY the spy. Well, spy-in-training in my estimation. It’s the perfect front: Have a young, non-intimidating Asian girl provide city tours for westerners so she can learn their subtle language and behavioral complexities. I mean for God’s sake, she used the phrase HERDING CATS! What Chinese person… what ANY person outside of the US would know what the flip “Herding Cats” means?

Only the hyper-aware, as I sometimes consider myself, would pick up on these tell-tale signs.

Don’t believe me? Well how about this one:

Just yesterday she mentioned that she was trying to learn an American accent.

Translation: It will be easier for me to steal American nuclear secretes while lulling my American military contact into a false sense of security with my folksy, down-home southern drawl.

Oh.. and here’s another one… just today, on our way back to the hotel in our bus, we dropped her off at the “office” so she can “prepare” for her next tour group. Surrrrre, Emily… PLAN for the next group indeed!

The Chinese Secret Police Officer Onboard My Bus

It just occurred to me that there is a shady looking Chinese Guy that keeps appearing and disappearing from our group. Call me crazy, or a little paranoid, but I wonder if he’s a government agent. He seems to be traveling alone, is tall and skinny and has beady little eyes.

Well the beady eyes thing I just made up, but I’m certain he’s with the Chinese secret service. Probably keeping tabs on me since my middle name, Mohamad, probably popped up on their “American Citizens Who Are Terrorists Because Their Middle Name Is Mohamad” list.

The ill-fitting white linen Polo-branded cap gave it away. No Asian in his right mind would be caught dead in a hat like that unless they were practicing: Ancient Chinese Art Of Blending Inconspicuously With Western-Looking Terrorists.

Well you can’t fool this Terrorist…Even if I actually was one.