Yunnan

"Am I making a mistake?" I thought to myself as I looked out the window of the plane on my flight
from Guilin to Kunming, the capital of the mountainous Yunnan province. It wasn't my destination
or my method of travel that was giving me pause, it was the timing. Yunnan is a place that has been on my to-do list ever since I arrived in China; but It was Chinese New Year and, as I've mentioned before, many places would be closed in order to observe the holiday. I had also just gotten back from a great trip to Vietnam and I was beginning to wonder if I was forcing it a little bit and trying to do too much. Sure I like traveling; seeing faraway places, experiencing faraway cultures, and being able to begin sentences with "That reminds me of the time I was in ______." has always been fun for me. But at the same time, I hate waiting in lines, I hate being dirty, I hate being in places overrun by tourists, and I've noticed that flying has recently become more and more of a frightening ordeal for me (When did I become such a pansy?). Unfortunately, These are all pretty essential tenets to wandering about. For every picture someone takes drinking some fruity drink on a beach on the other side of the world, you can be assured that there was some unpleasantness that they had to go through in order to get there. The question for me was how much of that unpleasantness could I handle? Patience is not a virtue of mine so I was anxious to see how 4 plane flights, 4 train rides (3 overnight), 2 border crossings, 3 hotels, 5 hostels, 2 long distance buses, 2 nearly day long layovers, and countless taxi drivers trying to rip me off over the short span of 4 weeks (this includes the Vietnam trip) would affect my enthusiasm for this kind of activity.

The length of the trip was also of a concern to me, 10 days is a long time to be alone. I do have a certain degree of introversion but I don't think I've ever spent that amount of time in nearly complete isolation. How was that going to affect my behavior? Would I start babbling to myself indiscriminately in order to break the silence? Would I become the stereotypical brash American tourist and start back-slapping and high-fiving strangers? Or would I go full on General Kurtz and develop "unsound methods" while assembling a tribe of willing natives to serve as my own personal army? Each seemed equally plausible.

Also, what would I do if I arrived at my destination(s) just to find out everything I wanted to see was closed? That would suck.

With all of these doubts swirling through my head the plane arrives at the Kunming airport....Well, lets do this.

I had no idea what to expect from Kunming. Some stories I had heard told of a beautiful, clean city with fresh air and fantastic food, while others described it as a soulless shithole where any human vice is fair game. Some stories tell of rampant hooking in the streets and even a midget colony (the latter of which turns out to be true). How could one place have both of those descriptions?

Kunming foliage

There weren't any specific attractions that I had in mind during my stay in Kunming (midget colonies are more of a summer activity for me) so I decided to spend a day walking around aimlessly. In my prior research on the place I discovered that Kunming's sister city is Denver, Colorado (fun fact: Guilin's is Orlando) and with an enormous blue sky, mountains, and fresh air it was easy to see the similarity (This wouldn't be the only similarity between Yunnan and Colorado see "Reason Why I Like This Place" for more). Although I was glad to have a chance to see the city I knew that this was only the appetizer before the main course (Lijiang, Tiger Leaping Gorge, and Dali). Verdict at the end of the day: fantastic weather, good food, didn't see any prostitutes, not a whole lot to do, but the the place had some gooood vibes dooood.  My train left in the evening of that day bound for my second destination: Lijiang.

Aside: The security at the Kunming train station was much tighter than in other train stations I had been to throughout China. No doubt a reaction to last year's terrorist attack. There were military officers doing demonstrations nearby and some were even holding guns...a rarity in China.

Just one of the many local Naxi babes

But, since I had no plans of launching into a spontaneous machete attack I passed through security without incident and soon found myself on the overnight train to Lijiang. Lijiang and the surrounding areas are the traditional home of the Naxi ethnic minority group. While Lijiang is a popular tourist destination throughout China, I still found it to be a good place to get a culture fix once I waded through all the bullshit. It was while I was in Lijiang that the actual New Year would come to pass. I found the early predictions that the place would be a ghost town this time of year with everything closed to be unfounded. As day turned to night, the old Naxi ladies selling trinkets on the side of the road were replaced by aggressive club promoters causing the vibe to go from quaint and rustic to excessive and seedy (yin and yang right?). I was tired at that point from my train ride but it was the new year, and the year of the goat no less (my year, no excuses Jay) so I sucked it up, followed the music and the lights, hit the juice with some fellow revelers, posed for some dumb pictures, and that, as they say, was that.

 After two days of doing travely stuff in Lijiang it was time to head to my next stop, Tiger Leaping Gorge. One of the deepest gorges in the world, this was a landmark I've had circled for awhile, so I figured to make this the main event of my trip. My journey, however, got off to an inauspicious start as I was double checking my hostel booking and discovered that there had been several complaints of a rat infestation. What was perhaps even more surprising/shocking to me was seeing that the people who mentioned the rats still gave the guesthouse an 80% rating on Hostelworld. It was as if the presence of rats was a minor inconvenience such as "towels not provided" or "no hot water." This really underscored for me the notion that, for all of the chest thumping I do about overcoming obstacles and dealing with inconveniences, there are some people out there who are simply cut from a tougher cloth than I. If I ever saw a rat at a place I was staying that would automatically make it the worst lodging experience of my entire life and something I would never be able just to block out. Plus I see enough of those furry bastards in Guilin, I didn't need them invading my vacation as well. I quickly switched reservations and set off.

My last minute audible turned out to be a great decision as my new hostel was quiet, clean, and conveniently located in the middle of the gorge. The cliffs above me rose so high that the sun wouldn't come over the edge until after 10 AM, leaving most of the morning pleasantly cool. I don't think that it's overly dramatic for me to say that Tiger Leaping Gorge had restored some of the faith I had lost in China. It wasn't simply what the gorge had (beautiful views, comfortable temperatures, starry night skies, friendly and accommodating locals) that made it special it was also what it didn't have (pollution, trash on the ground, loud/obnoxious tour groups, KTVs). Perhaps because there were no paved pathways, or elevators providing short cuts that this place is able to weed out the pretenders and selfie seekers; there actually seemed to be more goats than humans. It is simply a place for people who want to enjoy the outdoors. I spent the first day and half walking alone through the upper reaches of the gorge and feeling about as happy and awestruck as the double rainbow guy.

By late afternoon on the second day, I had finished most of the upper section of the gorge and found that I still had time before nightfall to check out the lower section near the river responsible for carving this monstrosity. The path going down was pretty steep and was more crowded than the other areas. After walking for about 20 minutes I reached a fork in the road where a group of people were gathered. To the right the path continued in a roundabout fashion designed to minimize the steep grade. The left side was a more direct route to the bottom but it also happened to be a rickety ladder, about 50 feet long, bolted into the side of a cliff. I don't feel ashamed in saying that, if I were alone at that point, I would most likely have gone right; however, there was a group of people looking at me and some old, Naxi woman who kept saying "Try, try!" (I understand that this woman's English was limited but I still was not a fan of her word choice. The word "try" suggests that there is more than a small chance of failure, which in this case would have meant serious injury or worse). Due to the herd mentality and my desire to look like a tough American badass I soon found myself stepping over the precipice and beginning my descent.

Everything was going fine until I felt a tug on the ladder. I looked down in time to see a young man preparing to climb up. I whistled to let him know that I was already on the way down. He looked up, made eye contact with me, and, to my utter amazement, began climbing up anyway. We eventually met around the center where I asked him some Mandarin version of "What's your plan here pal?" He responded by saying that it was his intent on climbing to the top. I then asked him how he planned on doing that with me in the way and watched as it slowly began to dawn on him that he was in fact on the side of a cliff and not in some supermarket or train station where he could just push his way past people. I went on to inform him that I was on the ladder first and that I had no plans on moving for him. He eventually relented, climbed back down, and allowed me to pass. I won this particular round of cliff-side chicken but I wasn't happy that I had to play in the first place. I got to the bottom, saw what I saw, then went back to my hotel.

A lot of this going on in TLG

I crossed the halfway point of my trip while in the gorge so I had to begin to make my way back towards Kunming in order to catch my flight home. The next stop on my trip was the town of Dali. Despite continued beautiful weather and it's location next to a picturesque lake, Dali had the misfortune of being the destination after the gorge. Coming from a place with more goats than people to a place where there are so many people clustered together they actually remind you of a pack of wild goats will always feel like a letdown, no matter the circumstances.

This phenomenon made itself apparent shortly after I arrived. After checking into my (final) hostel I went down to the front desk to inquire about about activities to do in the area. The woman at the reception suggested that I go hike the nearby mountain which offered an amazing panoramic view of the surrounding landscape. Thinking that this was an activity I could get behind, I made my way over to the base of the mountain. What was originally excitement over what I was about to do quickly subsided upon arrival as I surveyed the scene. Instead of a peaceful environment I soon found myself in the middle of a mass of humanity complete with cars, buses, solicitors, women wearing high heels trying to hike the mountain, men smoking cigarettes and wearing cowboy hats (because...western style!!) pushing people out of the way to get to the front of the ticket line, and tour groups expressing appreciation for China's beautiful and unique scenery by covering everything in garbage. All I could do at that point was shake my head, laugh to myself, and decide that that would be the day to knock out all of my shopping needs.

My last day in Dali was essentially my last day of the trip, as the next day in Kunming would only involve me waiting around to catch a plane (My bank account was also sending me messages that I couldn't continue to ignore so it was probably a good thing that this adventure was reaching its conclusion). Looking to end on a high note I did what has unintentionally become a tradition of sorts whenever I'm traveling: I rented a scooter. This is an activity that I have now been fortunate enough to do in the San Juan Islands, Costa Rica, Guangxi, Vietnam, and now Yunnan; and it has been a highlight of all of those trips. This particular excursion wasn't on the same level as some of the trips through the back country of Guangxi (few trips are) but, for all of the whining I've done about the place being too touristy, Dali is a popular destination for a reason. Riding down a flat, empty road with a clear sky, a lake on my right, and mountains on my left allowed me to achieve a peace of mind which had proven to be elusive up until that point. One of the traps that I've seen myself, and other people fall into, is that I always seem to exert most of my effort in getting to a certain place or crossing a particular item off my wishlist and I don't take enough time to simply sit back and enjoy the moment. By trying to go to as many places and cram in as many activities as possible, I sometimes can be guilty of missing the somewhat greater point which is that I'm in a unique and exciting part of the world during a unique and exciting period of my life. This short scooter trip allowed me to reflect on that truth and for that I was grateful.

"Try, try!"

Despite the high volume of people, I left Dali on a high; it was a good thing too because I still had a bit of awkwardness to endure before I made it back to Guilin. Awkwardness meaning that my train was scheduled to arrive in Kunming at 4 AM and my flight didn't leave until 6 PM. This was the first time in my life where I had hoped for my train to be delayed. Alas, it wasn't and I soon found myself standing on a deserted street in the middle of Kunming. Tired, dirty, having gone nearly two weeks without a shave, and with nothing but my passport, phone, wallet, and the clothes on my back I wandered around the city looking very much like a homeless person.

People who have never been to China may view it as a place that is constantly jam packed with people who are always on the go. In many places this is true but, unlike the popular New York slogan, the cities in China definitely sleep. Excluding only the very largest of cities, if you put yourself anywhere in China between the hours of 1 AM to 7 AM you will likely feel that you are in a ghost town. This is no exaggeration and Kunming was no different. At that moment I could've laid down in the middle of the street and taken a nap without worrying about a car coming.

Even though I had seen both the day and nighttime versions of China, I had never witnessed the transition before. I decided to head to the city center in order to observe Kunming transform from the eerie, post-apocalyptic feel of night to the nonstop scramble of day. It felt odd to be sitting in a deserted area knowing that in a matter of hours it would resemble the trading room floor of the NYSE. Just before sunrise a group of old women showed up in order to do some preliminary sweeping of the ground which would undoubtedly be covered in garbage by the day's end. Next empty public buses started making their rounds, followed by commuters heading to work. Soon policemen began appearing at intersections and, finally, the regular pedestrians began flooding the sidewalks as the world continued to spin.

I made it back to Guilin that evening feeling both worn out and refreshed. 





"Going Native" Experience of the Week

One aspect of life here that continues to make itself apparent is how quickly things can change and the ability to adapt to things on the fly is essential. One minute you can be walking along without a care in the world and minutes later you find yourself in a shitstorm of aggravation and confusion wondering what the hell happened.


For example......

This evening started off with me making a phone call to my friend Johnny to see if he would like to meet up for dinner. We agreed on a time and a place and I set out  to meet him. Upon arriving at the rally point I receive another call from Johnny and he informs me that he locked his keys in his apartment. Coincidentally I had done the same thing a couple weeks prior. In my previous experience it was surprisingly easy to find a locksmith (maybe a little too easy...sketchy) and what I had anticipated to be a long, drawn out ordeal was solved in about 45 minutes. I naively (I feel like I use that word a lot in my posts) believed that Johnny's situation would be solved as easily as mine was. He was nearly at the restaurant when he realized his mistake, so I suggested that we go ahead and eat and that I would go with him afterwards to find help.

We finish eating and head over to the front gate of Johnny's apartment complex and inform the security guards of his predicament. They tell us that the landlord has a spare key but she will be out of town for the next few days; we then inquire about a locksmith and they said they will send somebody. Twenty minutes later a young man arrives with his satchel of tools and we set off to show him the door. Upon arriving at Johnny's front door the man takes one look and declares that he is unable to open it and that we would need to call a professional. He then turns around and leaves us standing there in stunned/confused silence. Immediately questions begin rushing into my head: If that guy wasn't a professional then what was he? A hobbyist? Is it normal for people in Guilin to walk around with tools designed to open up locked doors? What does one need to do to become a "professional" locksmith? Are there certifications involved? Schooling? Apprenticeship? How does one become interested in the business of opening locked doors? Are locksmiths convicted burglars who have figured a way to harness their illicit abilities into something that helps people a la Dexter Morgan? And, most importantly, what the hell do we do now?

We return to the front gate and tell the guards that apparently their guy wasn't credentialed enough to open Johnny's door and that we would need to call in the big guns. They found another service and tell us that the guy will be over in an hour (busy night). With time to kill and steam that was in need of blowing off, we decided to make the best of the situation and grab a couple beers from the store while we waited for our guy. As we sat in the stairwell laughing and drinking and talking about how silly this all is, my phone rings. This time it's my girlfriend who tells me that she has also locked her key inside her apartment. What on earth was going on?? She said she had nowhere else to go and was wondering if she could meet up with us then we would drive her scooter back to my house after we get Johnny's door open. I give her directions to his place and she says she'll be over in 20 minutes.

After I hang up the "professional" arrives. We breathe a sigh of relief as we show him to the door. The man examines the lock then opens up his bag and pulls out...a coat hanger, a piece of string, and a roll of masking tape. "Those are your tools??????" I thought to myself, "How the hell are you going to open the door using those?" The man then uses a screwdriver to knock out Johnny's peephole, he then flattens the coat hanger, attaches a piece of tape to the end, ties a string around it, feeds it through the small hole and begins swinging it hoping the tape will catch the handle. Johnny and I exchanged concerned looks as it begins to dawn on us that his door may remained locked for a lot longer than we had anticipated.

Then my girlfriend calls me back and tells me that she is lost and that both the battery on her phone and battery in her electric scooter are about to die....good lord. I explain to her again where Johnny's house is and tell her that I'll meet her outside. I excuse myself from the lock situation to go and deal with a new problem. I then walked down to the street; shaking my head at what a night this was turning out to be. As I reached the intersection I hear a loud bang coming from the street. I look over and see a van that had come to a complete stop and two guys laying in the street among shards of what ten seconds prior was a scooter. "Are you kidding me?" I said audibly as I tilted my head skywards and did the universal "how could this day get any worse" pose. I then walk over to the scene to see if the guys were alright. Once it became clear they they were both fine and were just doing the playing dead routine in order to get more money from the person who hit them I quickly moved to a safe distance to observe the ensuing argument. It was important to make it absolutely clear that I played no part in this accident. Unfortunately it isn't uncommon in China for westerners to get extorted in these situations. For the next 15 minutes I sat and watched as the driver of the van and one of the guys on the scooter shouted loudly at each other while the other scooter guy continued to lay on the ground playing dead (I knew he was faking because he would sporadically look up to see if people were looking at him before closing his eyes again and not moving.) Eventually my girlfriend arrives with an out-of-battery electric scooter. It was almost midnight at that point and it was about a 45 minute walk to my apartment so I suggested that we get started.

We arrive at my house and quickly fall asleep...until about 3 AM when I receive a phone call from Johnny...the professional's attempts had been unsuccessful and the effort had been abandoned. He had no other place to stay so I tell him he's welcome to crash on my couch. After waiting up for him I head back to my room and try unsuccessfully to fall back asleep.

So what did I learn from all of this? Not a damn thing.   


Mandarin Improvement Sign

After almost a year and a half I've finally figured out how to contort jaw in such a way as to effectively pronounce the word re 热 (the word for "hot"). It was a difficult and lengthy process and I often found myself questioning what I was doing or what this was all about; but I persevered and nothing can stop me now. 


Funny Sign of the Week

 "What the Fuck" is right, this girl is in 2nd grade.

Reason Why I Like This Place (Yunnan)

During my last night in TLG I found myself in the kitchen of my guesthouse ordering food when I saw a bag next to the sink containing a familiar looking green herb. "What is this?" I asked my host. "Da Ma." (Marijuana) he replied. Now I'm not a weed smoker so I wasn't about to buy some off of him, head back to my room, throw on some Grateful Dead, and chiiiiiiillll out; but the presence of this substance signified something much greater to me. Given just how illegal drugs are in China, seeing marijuana so nonchalantly out in the open like that really underlined how much these people are left to their own devices. I then reflected on my entire experience up to that point and determined that it was probably no coincidence that the prettiest, cleanest, and most welcoming place I had been to in China is run by a native population with minimal interference from outside entities. These are people who are invested in preserving the future of the area as opposed to making fast money. This spirit has been spotlighted recently in a successful effort to prevent the construction of a dam in the area. Yunnan is the first place in China where I truly felt like a guest (not just to the people, but to the land as well) instead of "King Tourist," and like any polite guest, you never want to feel like you're imposing.      



Random Tangent


Boy I sure hope that this doesn't happen:

http://theconcourse.deadspin.com/what-if-the-new-star-wars-sucks-too-1737539377