We arrived back in Tianshui recently, with our bags only slightly heavier than they were when we left. Our trip was marked by wonder, hilarity, frustration, eating, and sadness. Below are the stories of our first big trip around West/South China with only 2 bags each. They will appear in a few installments, with the beginning of the trip first:
Xi'an 西安 (Shaanxi Province): 2008.01.12 - 2008.01.14
We left snow in Tianshui, and arrived in more snow in Xi'an. When the train pulled in, we could see from the train window the incredible city walls. Xi'an has been the capital of many dynasties, so therefore has a variety of historical sites. We hopped a bus to the Shuyuan Hostel (highly recommended), and set out to find dinner. After that we walked up to the Bell Tower and the Drum Tower, both famous sites. We didn't go in, but they did look cool. Also, we heard neither bells nor drums, but I would assume they were used in the past. We also walked through the Muslim quarter, where the highlight was all the dried fruit for sale: bananas, kiwi, figs, apricots, etc. Some shops kept their wares out on tables on the sidewalk, even as the snow fell and covered them.
Our roommate at the hostel was particularly interesting: Roy, an English teacher from India. I had initially thought he was the son of a wealthy Indian businessman, as Roy had failed to disclose his profession at first, and was staying around Xi'an "for about a month." Turns out he was on holiday like us from a middle-school job some distance north. His classes are huge, up to 100 students, and at a level where there is a translator in the classroom with him. He says sometimes he can tell that the translator not only translates the words, but sometimes introduces his or her Chinese teaching methods back in. This frustrated Roy, who said he may or may not quit when he goes back after holiday. This seems to be the case with many foreign teachers who don't have any firm attachments to a school. Though the benefits are decent (a provided apartment, administrative support, etc), sometimes teachers just stay for a semester and then leave the school (middle school or college) scrambling to find someone for the 1000+ students with no English teacher. I'm not taking one side or the other (flighty foreigners vs. culture clash?), but I do daydream about committed teachers and dedicated schools.
The next day we decided to head for the Terracotta Army, about an hour northeast of the city. We went to the bus station and shoved our way onto a bus that said "Terracotta horses and soldiers 兵马俑" on the front. The price was less than the Lonely Planet informed, but we figured we had happened onto one of the local buses rather than the tourist bus. An hour later, we had this suspicion confirmed, as we hopped out in some town that was NOT the Terracotta Army. Why? Because the bus we boarded didn't go there. We were too dumbfounded to ask why the bus said it on the front, so we just asked how to get there. We waited a few minutes, boarded a rattly little minibus, and arrived 15 minutes later at a parking lot. Overall we ended up paying 5 mao less than we initially thought, so we saved enough to buy about one banana.
The site, which is now a UN World Heritage site, has been made ultra-tourist friendly (with the exception of the buses). Past the large parking lot were the loud trinket sellers, then the ticket office. We opted for the electronic guide in English for Y20 and reluctantly shelled out the Y50 each entrance fee. The real entrance to the site is a 10-minute walk through a nice garden, after which large ominous buildings greet you. Immediately inside to the right is the exhibition hall, where we started. It had a great selection of items from Pit 2 (there have been 3 pits discovered), that we later found out were there because Pit 2 was closed for renovation/excavation. The 5 soldiers we were able to see up close really exemplify how unique each soldier is: they have different clothing based on rank and type of soldier, from shoes to hats; different hairstyles; and different faces. There have been 20 or so "face types" identified, with nearly individual variation in each soldier's face - and there are thousands of soldiers. Each one is really terracotta, sculpted and baked. Another feature of Pit 2 were two small chariots, complete with drivers and horses. Some of the parts were made from metal or wood, so the chariots were reconstructed. They aren't life size like the rest of the soldiers and horses, but rather about 1/4 size, but still so intricate. So, why were the soldiers made in the first place? Well, some of them were made to protect the tomb of an emperor buried nearby. Over the years, the caverns (then just below ground) were crushed, burned, and flooded. They were first built in tunnels with pillars and roof beams covered by branches, but now only the mud walls between rows of soldiers remain, with the soldiers stood up in their approximate original locations. We first visited Pit 3, which has only a couple hundred soldiers and a chariot. It was likely used as meeting rooms for dynasty officials at some point. Next we headed to Pit 1, the largest by far. At one end of the huge room (think soccer stadium), most of the soldiers had been preserved unbroken and arranged in their supposed original locations. At the other end were excavations in progress as well as soldiers and horses being pieced together from fragments. The individual features of each solider allow them to be essentially re-assembled with some glue and filling. We walked around and stared (and listened to our electronic guide) for about an hour. It was great, and worth the entrance fee. I would recommend visiting at a warmer time since we were bundled pretty good and still were cold from standing around so long. We caught the bus back (the right bus), and spent the next day walking around more. We spent a few hours revelling in one of two Starbucks at a single intersection before hopping another bus to the airport. Our only issue was figuring out how to change clothes from winter wonderland (hats, coats, sweater, long underwear) to tropical paradise.
Sanya 三亚 (Hainan Island Province): 2008.01.14 - 2008.01.16
We arrived in Sanya, tourist mecca of Hainan Island, at midnight. Luckily, the public bus was still sitting outside waiting to fill up before heading into the city. It took only 30 minutes for us to reach Dadonghai, where we were promptly harassed by taxi drivers who pretended not to hear when we told them we had a place to stay, didn't need a ride, etc. They left when the owner of the hostel came to meet us and walk us back. The hostel we stayed at is the one recommended by Lonely Planet, and it was worth every penny. The owner, Peter, was so friendly and accommodating. When we were checking in, he reached behind the counter and gave us two small plastic-wrapped fruit husks, proclaiming "Want some drugs?" I think this was just his use of English conditioned by his marijuana-seeking clientele, when really he was offering us dried betel nut. He indicated that it would make us "warm and only a little dizzy." I stuck mine in my mouth, but didn't feel much after a very long travel day.
The next day when we awoke it was rainy and "the coldest day we've had." We saw another volunteer sitting outside eating breakfast, so we got the lowdown from her. V* had been there a few days and had been laying on the beach every day in searing sun and heat, though thoroughly enjoying herself. After some pleasantries (she teaches in a different province), I asked "So, how is your school?" Most volunteers like their students, their counterparts, the landscape, or their apartments. She surprised me with "miserable," and proceeded to describe the various ways that her school suspected her of both missionary activity and being a spy, with repercussions such as lack of support and stopping her inventive project to lead her students in teaching English at a nearby orphanage. It was then that I started realize how lucky we are to have a school that supports us in extracurricular activities and relationships with other teachers and staff. V*'s situation is a hard one, and her discussions with Peace Corps have helped them to come to the conclusion that no volunteers should be placed there in the future, though V* can't transfer to another school because it would cause the current school officials to lose face. In China, there is a concept of embarrassment called "losing face," where someone has failed or caused a muck-up of something. The person cannot be directly implicated because it would simply be too embarrassing, so excuses or speak-around devices are used to imply that something just went wrong, by no one is to blame. If V* left her school, the foreign affairs department et al would clearly be to blame, so she is forced to stay. This is not to say that her patience is infinite; she may decide to leave Peace Corps early (Early Termination "ET").
That day we bummed around and laughed every time we were approached by Chinese vendors speaking Russian. The majority of the tourists there were Russian, reflected not only by the vendors' approach but by the Russian signs, Russian food, and Russian liquor for sale. It was great fun to speak back to the vendors in Chinese, telling them "We're not Russian! 我们不是俄国人!" One thing that's really interesting is that the Russians were so much bigger than the Chinese, in general. We're from the US, I know, but we've been here around the skinny and short for 7 months. It seems like other people are giants. One person's theory is that the Russians there were tall and husky because the people with enough money and connections to "winter in Sanya" were in the army or KGB. The theory is somewhat unsubstantiated. Nick played beach volleyball for many hours with Russians, Swedes, and Chinese, who were much more skilled than the Physical Education majors at our school. We ate cheeseburgers for dinner at the Rainbow Grill, with meat imported from the US - the best burgers in China so far.
The next day the sun came out for 2 hours in midday, so I got a sunburn through the patchy clouds. At the expensive supermarket, we ran into Jersey C* and R*, other volunteers who we didn't know were in Sanya. They were on the prowl for meat to make fajitas in the 3-bedroom condo they had rented for the week. That night we went up and celebrated homemade fajitas with all the people who had come to Sanya: 11 volunteers and a sweet girl from Chongqing.
Wuzhishan City 五指山市: 2008.01.16 - 2008.01.17
The following day we dropped our bigger bags at the swag condo and took a small bus to the interior of the island. The 3-hour ride was bearable, as we traversed valley after mountain after valley after mountain. Each bus in China has a person, usually female, who makes sure everyone gets a ticket, has a decent seat, and puts their bags somewhere secure. On this bus her main job was to hand out little black garbage bags so people could vomit, then promptly throw the bags out the window. This caused Nick and I to briefly re-evaluate our stance that trash should not be thrown from bus windows.
We arrived in Wuzhishan City, named for the nearby "Five Fingers Mountain." We got a room at the hotel across from the bus station and went out for a look around. The city was once the capital of the island, which was the Miao and Dai (minority groups) Autonomous Prefecture, but it has since renewed its classification as a province. We saw no obvious signs of minority culture on the streets, but we also weren't looking too hard. One thing we did see was a local market down a side street, complete with vegetables, live seafood, and one cleaned and dressed dog for sale. In the US we would apply the terms "cleaned and dressed" to beings like deer, that you hunt. However, in South China and especially around Spring Festival, dog is a delicacy food. We have not eaten dog here (I likely never will), but this really brought a new aspect of Chinese cuisine into focus. We ate dinner in a deserted restaurant, and ordered a local specialty of rice-fed chicken. It was basically just boiled chicken served on a plate, with the head attached. So, it was good, but not great. We walked around after dark along the river, where the city had gone to great lengths to apply Vegas-style lighting to the guard rails lining the river, the bridges that crossed it, and the light poles that stood on the corners. The lights were all coordinated to change colors in rhythm, and not a single light bulb was out. We found the famous spot where the college kids congregate to eat barbecue, drink beer, and play pool, except it was the winter holiday so it was us and some locals. It was good, however, as advertised, and we ate lots of sticks of beef and lamb and mantou (steamed bread bites). Here the mantou was fried and then covered with a layer of sweetened condensed milk - if we closed our eyes, it was almost a glazed donut. We played some pool after that, and hit up the internet bar for an hour before heading to sleep on our rock-hard mattresses. One day I'd like to open up a Chinese mattress and find out what makes them feel like rocks but weigh so much less ...
Qiongzhong 琼中: 2008.01.17 - 2008.01.18
This little city didn't have much to offer except a great little 2-story market area and our inner-island goal: a waterfall. We checked into the corner room overlooking the Times Square of Qiongzhong, then set off for the waterfall. We walked the direction that the hotel clerk sent us until we found the Xinhua bookstore, which didn't have any maps. The pointed us down a few feet and told us to make a left. We walked a few more minutes, then began the task of finding a little moto-taxi to take us up the mountain. We went with the guy who gave us a low price, after bargaining in front of a small crowd of locals and other moto-taxis. About 100 yards down the street, our driver stopped and told us to get in another guy's taxi because our driver was headed home to eat lunch. We checked that the price hadn't changed, and off we went. Now, what is a moto-taxi? Well, it's a motorcycle with a lawnmower engine that has a two-seater covered bench welded to the back. The maximum speed on flat ground is about 20 mph, and you sit with your knees a few inches from the driver. So you can imagine how two "Western-sized" people slowed it down when we were going up the steep grades. At some points we could have walked as fast. In 15 minutes the driver stopped at a staircase leading off the road into the forest. We couldn't really verify that a waterfall lay beyond the staircase, but we paid him anyway and told him we'd walk the 7 km back to town.
The waterfall was beautiful. It started with a small picnic area with stone tables and the water tumbling over some rocks. At this point I should tell you that we were taking anti-malarials and wearing a thick layer of insect repellent to prevent diseases from the mosquitoes and other fun animals. It was overcast, but a warm-ish day only requiring a long sleeved shirt. We started up the stairs and the sound of rushing water grew louder. Some portions of the staircase were crumbling, moss-covered, and slick, so it was slightly tricky going. The first landing was the bottom pool of the 75-meter waterfall, which was very refreshing. We took some pictures and kept heading up. The top landing of the waterfall was also exceedingly beautiful, so we stopped awhile to look out over the mountain. It had these crazy mists that would fall so quickly over small areas (and us), then just as quickly disappear. The only animals of note were the inch worms invading our shoes and pant legs. There was water buffalo dung everywhere. This, along with the neglected staircase and mud-filled bathroom, leads me to believe that the waterfall was made into a park some years ago, then left to rot and be grazed upon by water buffalo. We stopped again at the first landing with the pool on our way down so I could climb across the rocks and stick my feet in. 
Nick waited awhile, then suddenly began to strip down. Lonely Planet mentioned some people swim here, and we were the only people for miles, so Nick decided to take advantage. Thigh-deep, he started to turn around. He told me later that he wished there had been some male friends around to heckle him to go all the way in, but he was glad that I did it anyway. So, Nick took the plunge in the waterfall in the jungles of Hainan. We hiked down to the bottom, feeling like our bodies and lungs had been refreshed by nature (though my sunburn still hurt some), and then walked along the road for about 2 hours back to town. Two things I liked about the walk were the cows with wood knockers around their necks and the strange method of pine sap collection where you scrape a large, inverted chevron shape into the tree and post a plastic bag underneath.
It took us forever to find dinner that wasn't hotpot, and when we did find it, we had to go over to the wall o' food, and pick out the meat, vegetable, and preparation. (Up to this point in our restaurant navigation, we've gotten to the point of using menus, so this trend in southern China of choosing the food and just telling the waitress how you want it prepared was a little daunting.) Who knew you could prepare eggplant with little pieces of fish? The next day we took the 4-hour bus ride back to Sanya through the mountains and valleys, and dozens of little apiaries. I guess the warm weather is suitable, but it seemed like around every corner was a small house (or tent) with a circle or rectangle of bee boxes outside. We didn't see much honey for sale along the roads (like near that curve in the road in small-town central Florida), but there was lots for sale in shops in the towns. Honey is a delicacy condiment here, with fancy kinds in many price ranges. Also, most farmers on Hainan have at least one water buffalo, which is good for farm work, milk, and eventually meat. "Beef" in China can mean cows or water buffalo; in restaurants there's no telling.
Sanya: 2008.01.19 - 2008.01.21
We picked up our bags from the Swag condo to find out that some of our friends were having beaucoup trouble getting transportation back to their schools, then on to Chengdu for the in-service training conference (IST). Peace Corps discourages overnight buses, though that seemed to be the only reasonable option, so they booked that, giving them just enough time to get home, re-pack, and get the train to Chengdu. We all went to the beach every day for 3 more days, laying around, playing volleyball, and people-watching. The beach in China is an interesting place where the methods of relaxation can be anything from walking around in super-skimpy thongs and banana hammocks (Russians, any size) to wandering the beach in matching floral shirt-and-pant sets, taking pictures frolicking in the water (mainland Chinese tourists). Those two sets made up about half the beach population, and the other half were normal beachgoers in modest bathing suits or linen clothes. It will be along time before all these people converge on some vacationing style, but that's what makes it great. You can buy a whole coconut for Y5; someone hacks off a side until they reach water, then they stick in a straw and it's yours. I tried one, but it was super-bland. It tasted like a watery honeydew melon. There may have been some draw if they threw a little vodka in on top.
The other volunteers' bus tickets ended up being canceled due to the ice and snow that racked China over the holidays. So, with no time and some money, the 2 of them and the sweet Chongqing girl bought full-price tickets directly to Chengdu. We spent our last day in the sun, taking pictures, and eating fruit.
We even tried some of the fresh betel nut mixed with slaked lime (described to us as "crushed shell powder"?), which is described in various online dictionaries as both a "mild stimulant"(American Heritage) and "narcotic" (WordNet). I would say more like a stimulant, like coffee or tobacco. Here's how it happens: you buy a small red baggie from grandma on the street with 2 betel nuts cut into thirds and 6 little packets of slaked lime wrapped in a green leaf (you just see the leaf). Put one slice betel nut and one leaf packet into your mouth; chew for one minute. A bright red/orange foam will form in your mouth, which you spit out once. Continue chewing, and you'll feel your face get hot, then you'll get a little lightheaded. It goes away in about 15 minutes. Spit out the mess in your mouth when it has no more flavor and looks like a bunch of plant fibers. Don't worry, we weren't jon
esing for more when we left. Keep all this in mind if you visit southeast Asia, and don't assume that there is chicken blood all over the ground (like I did, which is just betel nut-chewer's spit), or that the man you asked directions from was just punched in the mouth and bleeding (which I also thought).
That's all for now - stay posted for the next installment which will include our fab In-service Training Conference, a dog bite or two, some darn good bargaining, and a beautiful gorge. And don't disturb the lawns in Sanya; "Tiny grass is dreaming."
Xi'an 西安 (Shaanxi Province): 2008.01.12 - 2008.01.14
We left snow in Tianshui, and arrived in more snow in Xi'an. When the train pulled in, we could see from the train window the incredible city walls. Xi'an has been the capital of many dynasties, so therefore has a variety of historical sites. We hopped a bus to the Shuyuan Hostel (highly recommended), and set out to find dinner. After that we walked up to the Bell Tower and the Drum Tower, both famous sites. We didn't go in, but they did look cool. Also, we heard neither bells nor drums, but I would assume they were used in the past. We also walked through the Muslim quarter, where the highlight was all the dried fruit for sale: bananas, kiwi, figs, apricots, etc. Some shops kept their wares out on tables on the sidewalk, even as the snow fell and covered them.
Our roommate at the hostel was particularly interesting: Roy, an English teacher from India. I had initially thought he was the son of a wealthy Indian businessman, as Roy had failed to disclose his profession at first, and was staying around Xi'an "for about a month." Turns out he was on holiday like us from a middle-school job some distance north. His classes are huge, up to 100 students, and at a level where there is a translator in the classroom with him. He says sometimes he can tell that the translator not only translates the words, but sometimes introduces his or her Chinese teaching methods back in. This frustrated Roy, who said he may or may not quit when he goes back after holiday. This seems to be the case with many foreign teachers who don't have any firm attachments to a school. Though the benefits are decent (a provided apartment, administrative support, etc), sometimes teachers just stay for a semester and then leave the school (middle school or college) scrambling to find someone for the 1000+ students with no English teacher. I'm not taking one side or the other (flighty foreigners vs. culture clash?), but I do daydream about committed teachers and dedicated schools.The next day we decided to head for the Terracotta Army, about an hour northeast of the city. We went to the bus station and shoved our way onto a bus that said "Terracotta horses and soldiers 兵马俑" on the front. The price was less than the Lonely Planet informed, but we figured we had happened onto one of the local buses rather than the tourist bus. An hour later, we had this suspicion confirmed, as we hopped out in some town that was NOT the Terracotta Army. Why? Because the bus we boarded didn't go there. We were too dumbfounded to ask why the bus said it on the front, so we just asked how to get there. We waited a few minutes, boarded a rattly little minibus, and arrived 15 minutes later at a parking lot. Overall we ended up paying 5 mao less than we initially thought, so we saved enough to buy about one banana.
The site, which is now a UN World Heritage site, has been made ultra-tourist friendly (with the exception of the buses). Past the large parking lot were the loud trinket sellers, then the ticket office. We opted for the electronic guide in English for Y20 and reluctantly shelled out the Y50 each entrance fee. The real entrance to the site is a 10-minute walk through a nice garden, after which large ominous buildings greet you. Immediately inside to the right is the exhibition hall, where we started. It had a great selection of items from Pit 2 (there have been 3 pits discovered), that we later found out were there because Pit 2 was closed for renovation/excavation. The 5 soldiers we were able to see up close really exemplify how unique each soldier is: they have different clothing based on rank and type of soldier, from shoes to hats; different hairstyles; and different faces. There have been 20 or so "face types" identified, with nearly individual variation in each soldier's face - and there are thousands of soldiers. Each one is really terracotta, sculpted and baked. Another feature of Pit 2 were two small chariots, complete with drivers and horses. Some of the parts were made from metal or wood, so the chariots were reconstructed. They aren't life size like the rest of the soldiers and horses, but rather about 1/4 size, but still so intricate. So, why were the soldiers made in the first place? Well, some of them were made to protect the tomb of an emperor buried nearby. Over the years, the caverns (then just below ground) were crushed, burned, and flooded. They were first built in tunnels with pillars and roof beams covered by branches, but now only the mud walls between rows of soldiers remain, with the soldiers stood up in their approximate original locations. We first visited Pit 3, which has only a couple hundred soldiers and a chariot. It was likely used as meeting rooms for dynasty officials at some point. Next we headed to Pit 1, the largest by far. At one end of the huge room (think soccer stadium), most of the soldiers had been preserved unbroken and arranged in their supposed original locations. At the other end were excavations in progress as well as soldiers and horses being pieced together from fragments. The individual features of each solider allow them to be essentially re-assembled with some glue and filling. We walked around and stared (and listened to our electronic guide) for about an hour. It was great, and worth the entrance fee. I would recommend visiting at a warmer time since we were bundled pretty good and still were cold from standing around so long. We caught the bus back (the right bus), and spent the next day walking around more. We spent a few hours revelling in one of two Starbucks at a single intersection before hopping another bus to the airport. Our only issue was figuring out how to change clothes from winter wonderland (hats, coats, sweater, long underwear) to tropical paradise.
Sanya 三亚 (Hainan Island Province): 2008.01.14 - 2008.01.16
We arrived in Sanya, tourist mecca of Hainan Island, at midnight. Luckily, the public bus was still sitting outside waiting to fill up before heading into the city. It took only 30 minutes for us to reach Dadonghai, where we were promptly harassed by taxi drivers who pretended not to hear when we told them we had a place to stay, didn't need a ride, etc. They left when the owner of the hostel came to meet us and walk us back. The hostel we stayed at is the one recommended by Lonely Planet, and it was worth every penny. The owner, Peter, was so friendly and accommodating. When we were checking in, he reached behind the counter and gave us two small plastic-wrapped fruit husks, proclaiming "Want some drugs?" I think this was just his use of English conditioned by his marijuana-seeking clientele, when really he was offering us dried betel nut. He indicated that it would make us "warm and only a little dizzy." I stuck mine in my mouth, but didn't feel much after a very long travel day.
The next day when we awoke it was rainy and "the coldest day we've had." We saw another volunteer sitting outside eating breakfast, so we got the lowdown from her. V* had been there a few days and had been laying on the beach every day in searing sun and heat, though thoroughly enjoying herself. After some pleasantries (she teaches in a different province), I asked "So, how is your school?" Most volunteers like their students, their counterparts, the landscape, or their apartments. She surprised me with "miserable," and proceeded to describe the various ways that her school suspected her of both missionary activity and being a spy, with repercussions such as lack of support and stopping her inventive project to lead her students in teaching English at a nearby orphanage. It was then that I started realize how lucky we are to have a school that supports us in extracurricular activities and relationships with other teachers and staff. V*'s situation is a hard one, and her discussions with Peace Corps have helped them to come to the conclusion that no volunteers should be placed there in the future, though V* can't transfer to another school because it would cause the current school officials to lose face. In China, there is a concept of embarrassment called "losing face," where someone has failed or caused a muck-up of something. The person cannot be directly implicated because it would simply be too embarrassing, so excuses or speak-around devices are used to imply that something just went wrong, by no one is to blame. If V* left her school, the foreign affairs department et al would clearly be to blame, so she is forced to stay. This is not to say that her patience is infinite; she may decide to leave Peace Corps early (Early Termination "ET").
That day we bummed around and laughed every time we were approached by Chinese vendors speaking Russian. The majority of the tourists there were Russian, reflected not only by the vendors' approach but by the Russian signs, Russian food, and Russian liquor for sale. It was great fun to speak back to the vendors in Chinese, telling them "We're not Russian! 我们不是俄国人!" One thing that's really interesting is that the Russians were so much bigger than the Chinese, in general. We're from the US, I know, but we've been here around the skinny and short for 7 months. It seems like other people are giants. One person's theory is that the Russians there were tall and husky because the people with enough money and connections to "winter in Sanya" were in the army or KGB. The theory is somewhat unsubstantiated. Nick played beach volleyball for many hours with Russians, Swedes, and Chinese, who were much more skilled than the Physical Education majors at our school. We ate cheeseburgers for dinner at the Rainbow Grill, with meat imported from the US - the best burgers in China so far.The next day the sun came out for 2 hours in midday, so I got a sunburn through the patchy clouds. At the expensive supermarket, we ran into Jersey C* and R*, other volunteers who we didn't know were in Sanya. They were on the prowl for meat to make fajitas in the 3-bedroom condo they had rented for the week. That night we went up and celebrated homemade fajitas with all the people who had come to Sanya: 11 volunteers and a sweet girl from Chongqing.
Wuzhishan City 五指山市: 2008.01.16 - 2008.01.17
The following day we dropped our bigger bags at the swag condo and took a small bus to the interior of the island. The 3-hour ride was bearable, as we traversed valley after mountain after valley after mountain. Each bus in China has a person, usually female, who makes sure everyone gets a ticket, has a decent seat, and puts their bags somewhere secure. On this bus her main job was to hand out little black garbage bags so people could vomit, then promptly throw the bags out the window. This caused Nick and I to briefly re-evaluate our stance that trash should not be thrown from bus windows.
We arrived in Wuzhishan City, named for the nearby "Five Fingers Mountain." We got a room at the hotel across from the bus station and went out for a look around. The city was once the capital of the island, which was the Miao and Dai (minority groups) Autonomous Prefecture, but it has since renewed its classification as a province. We saw no obvious signs of minority culture on the streets, but we also weren't looking too hard. One thing we did see was a local market down a side street, complete with vegetables, live seafood, and one cleaned and dressed dog for sale. In the US we would apply the terms "cleaned and dressed" to beings like deer, that you hunt. However, in South China and especially around Spring Festival, dog is a delicacy food. We have not eaten dog here (I likely never will), but this really brought a new aspect of Chinese cuisine into focus. We ate dinner in a deserted restaurant, and ordered a local specialty of rice-fed chicken. It was basically just boiled chicken served on a plate, with the head attached. So, it was good, but not great. We walked around after dark along the river, where the city had gone to great lengths to apply Vegas-style lighting to the guard rails lining the river, the bridges that crossed it, and the light poles that stood on the corners. The lights were all coordinated to change colors in rhythm, and not a single light bulb was out. We found the famous spot where the college kids congregate to eat barbecue, drink beer, and play pool, except it was the winter holiday so it was us and some locals. It was good, however, as advertised, and we ate lots of sticks of beef and lamb and mantou (steamed bread bites). Here the mantou was fried and then covered with a layer of sweetened condensed milk - if we closed our eyes, it was almost a glazed donut. We played some pool after that, and hit up the internet bar for an hour before heading to sleep on our rock-hard mattresses. One day I'd like to open up a Chinese mattress and find out what makes them feel like rocks but weigh so much less ...Qiongzhong 琼中: 2008.01.17 - 2008.01.18
This little city didn't have much to offer except a great little 2-story market area and our inner-island goal: a waterfall. We checked into the corner room overlooking the Times Square of Qiongzhong, then set off for the waterfall. We walked the direction that the hotel clerk sent us until we found the Xinhua bookstore, which didn't have any maps. The pointed us down a few feet and told us to make a left. We walked a few more minutes, then began the task of finding a little moto-taxi to take us up the mountain. We went with the guy who gave us a low price, after bargaining in front of a small crowd of locals and other moto-taxis. About 100 yards down the street, our driver stopped and told us to get in another guy's taxi because our driver was headed home to eat lunch. We checked that the price hadn't changed, and off we went. Now, what is a moto-taxi? Well, it's a motorcycle with a lawnmower engine that has a two-seater covered bench welded to the back. The maximum speed on flat ground is about 20 mph, and you sit with your knees a few inches from the driver. So you can imagine how two "Western-sized" people slowed it down when we were going up the steep grades. At some points we could have walked as fast. In 15 minutes the driver stopped at a staircase leading off the road into the forest. We couldn't really verify that a waterfall lay beyond the staircase, but we paid him anyway and told him we'd walk the 7 km back to town.
The waterfall was beautiful. It started with a small picnic area with stone tables and the water tumbling over some rocks. At this point I should tell you that we were taking anti-malarials and wearing a thick layer of insect repellent to prevent diseases from the mosquitoes and other fun animals. It was overcast, but a warm-ish day only requiring a long sleeved shirt. We started up the stairs and the sound of rushing water grew louder. Some portions of the staircase were crumbling, moss-covered, and slick, so it was slightly tricky going. The first landing was the bottom pool of the 75-meter waterfall, which was very refreshing. We took some pictures and kept heading up. The top landing of the waterfall was also exceedingly beautiful, so we stopped awhile to look out over the mountain. It had these crazy mists that would fall so quickly over small areas (and us), then just as quickly disappear. The only animals of note were the inch worms invading our shoes and pant legs. There was water buffalo dung everywhere. This, along with the neglected staircase and mud-filled bathroom, leads me to believe that the waterfall was made into a park some years ago, then left to rot and be grazed upon by water buffalo. We stopped again at the first landing with the pool on our way down so I could climb across the rocks and stick my feet in. 
Nick waited awhile, then suddenly began to strip down. Lonely Planet mentioned some people swim here, and we were the only people for miles, so Nick decided to take advantage. Thigh-deep, he started to turn around. He told me later that he wished there had been some male friends around to heckle him to go all the way in, but he was glad that I did it anyway. So, Nick took the plunge in the waterfall in the jungles of Hainan. We hiked down to the bottom, feeling like our bodies and lungs had been refreshed by nature (though my sunburn still hurt some), and then walked along the road for about 2 hours back to town. Two things I liked about the walk were the cows with wood knockers around their necks and the strange method of pine sap collection where you scrape a large, inverted chevron shape into the tree and post a plastic bag underneath.It took us forever to find dinner that wasn't hotpot, and when we did find it, we had to go over to the wall o' food, and pick out the meat, vegetable, and preparation. (Up to this point in our restaurant navigation, we've gotten to the point of using menus, so this trend in southern China of choosing the food and just telling the waitress how you want it prepared was a little daunting.) Who knew you could prepare eggplant with little pieces of fish? The next day we took the 4-hour bus ride back to Sanya through the mountains and valleys, and dozens of little apiaries. I guess the warm weather is suitable, but it seemed like around every corner was a small house (or tent) with a circle or rectangle of bee boxes outside. We didn't see much honey for sale along the roads (like near that curve in the road in small-town central Florida), but there was lots for sale in shops in the towns. Honey is a delicacy condiment here, with fancy kinds in many price ranges. Also, most farmers on Hainan have at least one water buffalo, which is good for farm work, milk, and eventually meat. "Beef" in China can mean cows or water buffalo; in restaurants there's no telling.
Sanya: 2008.01.19 - 2008.01.21
We picked up our bags from the Swag condo to find out that some of our friends were having beaucoup trouble getting transportation back to their schools, then on to Chengdu for the in-service training conference (IST). Peace Corps discourages overnight buses, though that seemed to be the only reasonable option, so they booked that, giving them just enough time to get home, re-pack, and get the train to Chengdu. We all went to the beach every day for 3 more days, laying around, playing volleyball, and people-watching. The beach in China is an interesting place where the methods of relaxation can be anything from walking around in super-skimpy thongs and banana hammocks (Russians, any size) to wandering the beach in matching floral shirt-and-pant sets, taking pictures frolicking in the water (mainland Chinese tourists). Those two sets made up about half the beach population, and the other half were normal beachgoers in modest bathing suits or linen clothes. It will be along time before all these people converge on some vacationing style, but that's what makes it great. You can buy a whole coconut for Y5; someone hacks off a side until they reach water, then they stick in a straw and it's yours. I tried one, but it was super-bland. It tasted like a watery honeydew melon. There may have been some draw if they threw a little vodka in on top.The other volunteers' bus tickets ended up being canceled due to the ice and snow that racked China over the holidays. So, with no time and some money, the 2 of them and the sweet Chongqing girl bought full-price tickets directly to Chengdu. We spent our last day in the sun, taking pictures, and eating fruit.
We even tried some of the fresh betel nut mixed with slaked lime (described to us as "crushed shell powder"?), which is described in various online dictionaries as both a "mild stimulant"(American Heritage) and "narcotic" (WordNet). I would say more like a stimulant, like coffee or tobacco. Here's how it happens: you buy a small red baggie from grandma on the street with 2 betel nuts cut into thirds and 6 little packets of slaked lime wrapped in a green leaf (you just see the leaf). Put one slice betel nut and one leaf packet into your mouth; chew for one minute. A bright red/orange foam will form in your mouth, which you spit out once. Continue chewing, and you'll feel your face get hot, then you'll get a little lightheaded. It goes away in about 15 minutes. Spit out the mess in your mouth when it has no more flavor and looks like a bunch of plant fibers. Don't worry, we weren't jon
esing for more when we left. Keep all this in mind if you visit southeast Asia, and don't assume that there is chicken blood all over the ground (like I did, which is just betel nut-chewer's spit), or that the man you asked directions from was just punched in the mouth and bleeding (which I also thought).That's all for now - stay posted for the next installment which will include our fab In-service Training Conference, a dog bite or two, some darn good bargaining, and a beautiful gorge. And don't disturb the lawns in Sanya; "Tiny grass is dreaming."
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