Last week was China's October National Holiday. October 1st was National Day, commemorating the 57th birthday of the People's Republic of China. To celebrate, I went with some students to climb Xi Shan, the western mountains of Kunming. We left very early in the day, and it was a little rainy (it's rained for the past two weeks straight...I feel like I'm back in Oregon again) but well worth the great views and clean air. We ascended through some forests, past the tomb of Nie Er (the composer of China's national anthem), past ancient Taoist and Buddhist temples, past a 600 year-old gingko tree planted by a Ming Dynasty emperor, and finally we took a break in a small village toward the top. Up in these mountains farmers will invite travelers to their small courtyards for home-cooked meals. There we ate vegetables, tofu, rice with potatoes, cabbage, pumpkin, pickled garlic & ginger, watermelon, and fresh apples...all for 7 yuan each, less than $1. If we finished a certain plate, they would bring more of it until we were full. One student brought his guitar and we took turns playing some American and Chinese rock songs, much to the delight of the local teenagers.

After the lunch, we climbed through "Little Stone Forest," an outcropping of bizarre karst topography. Apparently in China, or at least here in Yunnan, when you reach a significant peak in your climb, you must shout and scream until others on different significant peaks shout and scream back. Also, as always, if you see a foreigner you must shout, "Hallloooooo!!" A Chinese girl once told me that the reason China is so loud is because, being such a mountainous country, people had to shout across the valleys to communicate with each other.

We finally arrived at a pavilion at the top of the stone forest, at the top of the Western Hills. Below was the massive Lake Dian-chi and dancing inside the pavilion were some people of the Yi nationality in colorful traditional clothing. One of my students asked one of them if they normally dressed that way, and the boy replied, "Of course! We're Yi!" After that, we descended the slopes and arrived back in Kunming very late, and incredibly exhausted.

The next day, I got on a train to Guiyang, capital of neighboring Guizhou Province. I was feeling adventurous, and taking the advice of a friend, opted for a "hard seat"/3rd class on the 12 hour night train. When I showed my ticket to the conductors, no one could believe I would travel this way. "Don't you want a sleeper?" they asked me in Chinese. When I stepped onto the car, I was met with many confused stares. This is how "real" China travels. People were friendly, offering me sundry fruits and sweets: shíliù (pomegranate), yòuzi (a pomelo, like a huge grapefruit but sweeter and more fragrant), yuèbĭng (mooncakes). After all, it is October Holiday. Soon a guard came by and asked to see my ticket. He read it, checked my seat, and checked the ticket again. He shook his head and walked away. A few minutes later, another guard came by and asked me to move to the dining car. He said it was more comfortable. So I went to the dining car. That's my hard seat experience, all 45 minutes of it.

In the dining car, I met two young Chinese women, one who works for Hainan Airlines and the other who is a doctor. It was interesting talking to them about Chinese literature and learning some expressions in local Kunming dialect, which is very different from the standard Mandarin taught in schools. I soon fell asleep at my table and woke up to the Dr. Seuss-like landscape of Guizhou Province and the rail staff goofing around in the dining car.

Guiyang is different from Kunming. There are hardly any foreigners, there are not nearly as many cars and bicycles on the road, and the girls have paler skin. The city is famous for bathhouses and mahjong (Chinese dominoes). It is said that on an airplane you know you're flying over Guiyang when you hear the mahjong tiles clicking. I met my Chinese friend Jennie at the station who had invited me to stay at her family's house. They took me out for breakfast at a traditional Guiyang rice-noodle restaurant (I passed on the blood broth and intestines). After that, we walked through the flower and bird market, full of animals, strange Oriental antiques, and samurai swords left over from the Japanese occupation. We met up with more people from the extended family and drove out into the countryside. Soon, we arrived at a small village of about 100 people on the other side of the mountain from Guiyang. We were met with a large spread of food in a room that looked like a garage, complete with the overhead door. There was a gas can full of baijiu, the infamous Chinese firewater, but I passed on that too. Save it to fuel the cars.


This town was interesting because the farmers are erecting buildings on their land which are intended to be houses, only no one has ever lived there. Guiyang is expanding so rapidly that soon it will encroach on this village. Instead of the developers or the government buying the cheap farmland, they will have to pay for the living units as well. However, the town was poor. Poorer than anything I ever saw. This is how many people in China live, in a small one-room house, a pig in the next room, a rooster out front, electricity but no indoor plumbing. There are outhouses around and a cesspool directly behind it which drains into the fields as fertilizer. I was careful where I stepped. Some people were fishing in a dirty cement pond.

Jennie and I went climbing around the neighboring mountains and stumbled into an old cemetery where some people were lighting off fireworks at their ancestors’ tomb. Each tomb had a small stone table where the family could eat a meal after the ceremony. Life (and death) in Chinese revolves around eating. After our return to the village, we went to a building which served as a sort of community center. The second floor had recently been completed and a throng of elementary-aged girls surrounded me. I was the first foreigner to ever visit this village. Even visits from the city folk are rare. We were invited to a banquet downstairs which celebrated the completion of the second floor (only the week previous) and the visit of the guests. I couldn’t believe the food! It was a full banquet, four-star restaurant quality (did I mention that Chinese people can cook?!?), lots of fresh vegetables, meats, and seafood. Where did all this come from? One city person in our party politely suggested that we go easy on the meat and the seafood because, “the fresh vegetables are what we come out to the countryside for.” In truth, the village people were waiting for us to eat first and would have the leftovers later. This is hospitality.

I left full, happy, a local celebrity, and with many new friends from this mysterious village in the Guizhou mountains.

The next day, Jennie, her Vietnamese boyfriend Le, and I went to the huge Qianling Park, hired a rowboat and took a tour of the lake. We saw one man and his restaurant on the opposite shore and invited him on board. He brought his “restaurant,” which was a charcoal grill and some “stinky tofu.” He cooked this in front of us while we rowed our way across the lake. Many people in other boats shouted “laowai!” (老外/honorable foreigner!), to which I was told to reply, “laozhong!” (老中/honorable Chinese person!).

On our way out of the park, we were assaulted by monkeys. People were throwing food to them; one was drinking water out of a plastic Pepsi bottle. One had landed on a man’s head (have pictures of this). A person discreetly asked my friend Le if he wanted to buy a monkey for himself.

The next day, we rode a bone-jarring bus out to the countryside again, this time to a park that I regretfully forgot the name of. It was full of waterfalls, caves, old-fashioned Chinese bamboo waterwheels, and people whizzing by on a zip cord overhead, screaming for dear life. We took a boat tour of a water cave, but this is like no cave you see in America. No, here in China, in this cave at least, there is flashing neon and Christmas lights strung around formations of interest. After the cave, we transferred into another boat (a motor boat this time). At a small waterfall, we ascended some steps and boarded another motorboat for a fast cruise down a lazy river, past a farmer and his ox, through the “Little Three Gorges” of Guizhou. In all, we cruised in five boats. After the voyage, we went on a tour of a dry cave which was interesting for its stalactites and stalagmites, new vocabulary for my English major friend Jennie. At the end of the cave was a long carved tunnel with swirling, flashing lights, like a Dr. Who wormhole. I felt the overwhelming urge to dash through this and scream. Kids followed suit. It seemed the appropriate thing to do.

That night we went out to eat hotpot, an entertaining meal. There is a hole carved into the table where a large pot filled with broth is placed above a hot flame. You order your own ingredients to be cooked in front of you. Le ordered pig brains to add to the mix, but I passed on that. After supper we took a taxi downtown, past a huge glistening white statue of Mao. He is holding up five fingers, which happen to be directly above an underground Wal-Mart. Guiyang people joke that Chairman Mao is saying, “If you play mahjong, only bet five kuai!”

The other thing Guiyang that makes famous is (legitimate) bathhouses. We tried out the Bangkok Paradise. We were greeted in opulent Thai-themed surroundings, leaving our shoes at the door. Le & I were whisked into the men’s bathing quarters, given a locker and a white towel, and then sent to the bathing room, which is a huge pool full of hot water. Very relaxing after a long day’s hike. Of course the TV was going. Can’t pass that up in China. After a relaxing soak, we were given some pajamas to wear and were escorted upstairs to the sleeping lounge. This is an open room of about 100 reclining single beds with a large TV and a pair of headphones for each bed. Many people spend the night here, even families (of course there are private rooms as well but I wouldn’t know anything about that!!!). There also was a bar and plenty of staff roaming around with food and expensive cigarettes. All three of us were given 40 minute full-body massages. I even got my feet washed and massaged! All this comfort put me to sleep immediately. The next morning, I had a quick dip in the hot pool again, and checked out, getting my freshly polished shoes back. The total price for three people: 150 yuan, about $19.

The next day was Mid-Autumn Festival, or what I call Chinese Thanksgiving. Jennie’s father owns restaurants in Beijing and Shanghai, so I was excited to have a great family meal. We went to the grandparents’ house and were greeted by all the extended family. Everyone was so dressed-up. Grandfather was in a suit and tie. After some serious picture taking, we got down to some serious eating. Ah, the food. Wood ears and mushrooms in garlic sauce, Beijing duck, prawns, fish soup, spicy cucumber, tender roasted chestnuts, homemade wine…I only wish I had a bottomless stomach, or at least two.

Finally, sadly, it was time to leave. Le and I took the overnight train back to Kunming, this time opting for a hard-sleeper. This is a car with separate compartments of six open (but soft) bunks. It is a fine way to meet people, and I had many interesting conversations with my neighbors until late in the night. One man told a children’s story about the famous Stone Forest. Even a railway conductor came and sat with us and chatted until the next stop.

Saturday was the first time I attended a Chinese wedding. One of my colleagues, a woman from the foreign languages department (yes, English is a foreign language), was to be married. A chartered bus was waiting at the apartments where we teachers live. Mood music was pumping again, this time Enya. I heard some beautiful Chinese songs on the drive there, and wished I too could know the words and the melody. They also played The Eagles’ “Hotel California.”

The ceremony was in the banquet room of a fancy downtown hotel called the Golden Dragon. The tradition is to greet the bride and groom at the door and give them a red envelope full of money. A girl whom I assumed to be a bridesmaid was welcoming guests with a bowl of treats, full of chocolate, sweets, peanuts, and loose cigarettes.

Upstairs was the banquet room. It was packed. Dishes were brought out one after the other, beef, spare ribs, shrimp, braised bean cake, etc. When the bride and groom finally entered, everyone stood up and applauded. The newlyweds took a seat on the stage and were introduced by an MC, who served as the evening’s entertainment. There were a lot of speeches and laughter, but I was in the back and don’t speak much Chinese.

There were also inevitable toasts of baijiu with my colleagues. I sat next to an eccentric Chinese man named Mark Browning (“He was a great poet!”). I think many of the foreign language staff liked to see him drunk so there were always excuses to toast. It became quite silly after a while, and it was fun listening to the staff speak, because this time everything was in English, so I could get their jokes and fully jump into the Chinese experience.

The past three days have been teaching. Back to work. I am suddenly inundated with hundreds of assignments from my English writing classes. It reminds me of a photo I once saw of a hapless judge in India, completely surrounded by backlogged cases, literally floor to ceiling, grimacing between stacks of papers on her desk two meters high. Well, maybe it’s not that bad.

Today a student gave me a beautiful framed specimen of a butterfly (Cerhosia Cyana) and I met a meteorologist who just got back from Chicago. He is also the college’s Director of Propaganda. Just now a person came to my door to invite me to host the inaugural party of Southwest Forestry College’s Culture Committee on Sunday…I said yes but not really sure what it’s about. Should be interesting, as always.