I thought that last night's canoe ride was interesting to say the least. Little did I know this morning that we would be using that same mode of transportation to get back to the roadside and so would our luggage. As ALL of our luggage is sent over ahead of us, including mine and Cait's computer, all we can think is please don't let it end up at the bottom of lake. Imagine watching your entire clothing, souvenirs and tolietries sent over on barely floating piece of wood with two porters, and a paddler. And then helplessly watch it being deposited on the other side of the dock while you stand on the opposite side of the lake -- hoping that no one steals it.
The guy meeting us to take us to the bus to Chitwan is there and it takes his car and a taxi to fit all of our luggage and us. The bus station is a large open field in town where young men are selling trays of homemade danishes and pastries and the busses have seen better days with some calling themselves 'Greyhound - Nepal." Our luggage is loaded on top of the bus and tied with a tarp just as I realize that my Dramamine is up there out of my reach. I explain that i need something up there for the ride or it will be a baaaaaad ride and they tell me to climb on top of the bus and he will undo the tarp. I find it -- thank god my toiletries where right on the top of my bag -- and take that special yellow pill.
There are only 9 of us on the bus and the tour guide bids us farewell, saying we should be able to stretch out for the trip -- which we have been told is about a five hour trip with one stop for breakfast and bathroom break. As I see all of these other buses pull out of the 'station', all are full and jammed with people. We finally leave after there is some debate with a guy at the entrance and I notice that one of the local Nepali guys on our bus is strangely riding at the doorway as if he is getting ready to call for more passengers. The only reason I notice this is that this was the way they ran the buses in Peru and I was extremely suspicious of how we were going to go to Chitwan on an almost empty bus. That is NOT the Nepali way -- every bus I have passed in the last few days is packed to the point that people ride on the top of these buses or hang from the backs of them.
So I am already on high alert and welll.... I'll have to continue the rest of the post later.
More to come on:
A four-hour delay on the road, stuck in a small roadside town, about an hour from our destination because some local people decided to protest the government....
Our heroes -- Rau Jan and his manager -- from the Jungle Safari Lodge in Chitwan....
A walking tour of Sauraha....and its small shacks and the Thura...
A sunburnt and cranky Liz calls it an early evening....
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Himalayan flight (round 2!) and a tropical oasis...
So round 2: We try for another shot at the Himalayan sightseeing tour. This time we are given an even earlier wake-up call since we were late yesterday. When we get to the airport, they won't let our travel agent in and he has Dave's ticket so after much shouting by our travel agent and us, we are finally handed the ticket. But then there is lots of confusion on the fact that Dave has to pay the airport tax but the Yeti Air guy doesn't explain this right to me and as I head to the counter to pay the tax, he and I get into it as i try to explain I need to pay one more and he keeps insisting that he can't refund me for yesterday's fees. After talking in circles and not getting anywhere, I send Dave back over to the counter to pay his tax and after a slight delay, the guy finally takes his money.
Poor Dave -- we had already gone through their 'security' system yesterday so all of us girls knew how to pretty much walk through all their checkpoints and blow off the people. Dave was stopped and thoroughly searched by every one at all the 'men's' checkpoints, as they searched every pocket of himself and his bag.
And wouldn't you know it... the flight did not leave on time. We sat around as they called all these other flights, starting to worry that maybe we would not get to do the trip. But they finally called us -- and I recognized half the passengers as people who had been on our canceled flight the day before.
Well we take off and yes... the skies were clear! Talk about this amazing awestruck flight -- we kept playing musical chairs as the views changed from each person's seat. The young attendant would point out the different ranges and what we were seeing and the pilots (the lead pilot was a woman!) called each of us up to point out Everest as we came up on it. Everest was cool -- don;t get me wrong - - but there were some other impressive and distinctive looking ranges (whose names escape me now) that made it pretty amazing to be flying so close to.
We ended up chatting with two of our flightmates -- who were both English and a riot! Both guys were in their early 20s and volunteering for the last few weeks, teaching English to some Nepali monks and working at a day care taking care of Nepali children. They both had been disappointed as we were when the flight was canceled yesterday -- and one only had his second shot today since he was leaving to go back home to Suffolk. And he told us that he had been standing out in his boxers in the yard that day, waiting to see if the weather would be just right for the trip. They were completely British cheeky -- but made the rest of the flight home pass quickly as we traded trip stories.
So back to the hotel, to grab a quick bite to eat and finish packing as we had to be back to that same domestic airport in less than two hours! To bad we had to rush too -- since the breakfast at the Hyatt was amazing and we ended up having our same little chip-toothed server who was really a doll at coming around with the coffee and milk tea. Speaking of the milk tea -- talk about amazing! Sweet and spicy but just enough black tea jolt to wake you up -- I think I drank 20 cups over the last two days.
Packed and off to the airport again, we get there and find out that we are overweight -- surprise, surprise! and Yeti Air wants their money. These in-country planes are just slightly bigger than puddle jumpers -- and every plane I have been on for the last few weeks requires that you board from the runway (which makes me think that if you have any type of physical impairment that these kinds of road trips would truly be hard.) So large luggage is checked and we all have carry-ons (Cait has two large ones) and I have what is deemed in the U.S. as an acceptable size but since I am last to board they insist on checking it -- which pisses me off a little as I watch others who have the same size bags go by -- and my computer is in that bag (Would you trust a company named after a mythical creature to handle a $1700 piece of equipment? I think not!) . But I hand it over and pray for the best.
Pokhara is our next stop on the Nepal tour. It is a lake town that is known for its trekker trips and relaxing in a peaceful setting away from all of the chaos of Kathmandu. The resort we are staying at -- Fishtail Lodge -- is very rustic and quaint -- a total departure from the Hyatt. But we most are looking to relax and their pool is just what we need. The sun is HOT and frankly, I think all we are thinking is a good swim and a relax day in the shade, napping and reading. And that's what we do -- as well as keep applying the sunscreen as I am getting a little toasty.
The tour guide had set up sightseeing -- which we decide to blow off in favor of relaxing -- and we opt for lunch at the hotel. Ahhhh.... service in Nepal: I have found that it would be better if I would take my own order, get my own drink, make my own food and my companions' food, serve it and I would still come out four times faster than when we could even get our drinks. We make the mistake of not ordering our food with our drinks and we also opt for western-style fare so after starting out with some other tables in the dining room with us -- we end up being the last ones by more than 45 minutes. Maybe we would have been better off ordering the Nepali food......
Later, instead of the hotel dining hall, we opt to go into town on the recommendation of our host, Kiran. He has previously told us that there are several restaurants on the lakefront and all we have to do is walk about 10-15 minutes. Another Nepali lesson: Time estimates and distance are waaaayyyy off. We have to cross the river on the hotel's person-powered raft, walk down the road to the main road and then start walking into town, Along the way, we stop and window shop -- picking up some purchases along the way. The town is dead and about a quarter of the shops are firmly closed up. But we ask around for this restaurant -- Boomerangs -- that was recommended to us and we find it an half-hour later. And wouldn'tcha know it.... it is dead. No one is in there... and after some debate and growling stomachs, we decide to head back across the street to a restaurant that looks like it is busy (or busy compared to other dead restaurants). But we are misled as the large crowd we see is more of a group having cocktails and the restaurant inside is deader than a doornail.
Dave and I take a chance and order more 'American' cocktails and they are probably some of the worst I have ever had -- I should know by now to just stick with the Nepali beer -- as my drink is completely inedible. Try all booze -- it was supposed to be a 'blended' daiquiri and I am not one for stiff drinks of really bad liquor.
But the meal proves to be somewhat better -- but it was probably one of the lesser quality ones we had in all of our travels. And the bonus is getting dessert across the street at this gelato stand that proves to be worth it. There is some confusion when it comes time to pay as I still have not mastered the money and which bill is which -- so when I hand the money to the clerk I think he owes me more money back and is trying to cheat me. But he goes over what I gave him and returns some change -- even though I still think he has stiffed me. The gelato is good and the owner makes up for the confusion by helping us get a taxi.
The taxi looks like a beat-up rabbit -- and we all pile in with Dave up front. Driving at night in Nepal is even more harrowing then daytime because headlights on are OPTIONAL! So that car coming, or people on the road, or that bicyclist in your path -- you may not see him until the last minute. It is almost better not to watch the road and close your eyes. We make it back to the lodge dock in one piece but find out that the hand ferry is done for the night. Our ride back to the hotel is by canoe across the lake -- which makes me glad that I only had one glass of beer at the restaurant and nothing more. The guy piloting the canoe is quick and adept but all I can think of my companions is please don't tip over the canoe. And the four of us plus driver seems to bring us close to max weight. We make it over to the lodge -- all still dry.
Poor Dave -- we had already gone through their 'security' system yesterday so all of us girls knew how to pretty much walk through all their checkpoints and blow off the people. Dave was stopped and thoroughly searched by every one at all the 'men's' checkpoints, as they searched every pocket of himself and his bag.
And wouldn't you know it... the flight did not leave on time. We sat around as they called all these other flights, starting to worry that maybe we would not get to do the trip. But they finally called us -- and I recognized half the passengers as people who had been on our canceled flight the day before.
Well we take off and yes... the skies were clear! Talk about this amazing awestruck flight -- we kept playing musical chairs as the views changed from each person's seat. The young attendant would point out the different ranges and what we were seeing and the pilots (the lead pilot was a woman!) called each of us up to point out Everest as we came up on it. Everest was cool -- don;t get me wrong - - but there were some other impressive and distinctive looking ranges (whose names escape me now) that made it pretty amazing to be flying so close to.
We ended up chatting with two of our flightmates -- who were both English and a riot! Both guys were in their early 20s and volunteering for the last few weeks, teaching English to some Nepali monks and working at a day care taking care of Nepali children. They both had been disappointed as we were when the flight was canceled yesterday -- and one only had his second shot today since he was leaving to go back home to Suffolk. And he told us that he had been standing out in his boxers in the yard that day, waiting to see if the weather would be just right for the trip. They were completely British cheeky -- but made the rest of the flight home pass quickly as we traded trip stories.
So back to the hotel, to grab a quick bite to eat and finish packing as we had to be back to that same domestic airport in less than two hours! To bad we had to rush too -- since the breakfast at the Hyatt was amazing and we ended up having our same little chip-toothed server who was really a doll at coming around with the coffee and milk tea. Speaking of the milk tea -- talk about amazing! Sweet and spicy but just enough black tea jolt to wake you up -- I think I drank 20 cups over the last two days.
Packed and off to the airport again, we get there and find out that we are overweight -- surprise, surprise! and Yeti Air wants their money. These in-country planes are just slightly bigger than puddle jumpers -- and every plane I have been on for the last few weeks requires that you board from the runway (which makes me think that if you have any type of physical impairment that these kinds of road trips would truly be hard.) So large luggage is checked and we all have carry-ons (Cait has two large ones) and I have what is deemed in the U.S. as an acceptable size but since I am last to board they insist on checking it -- which pisses me off a little as I watch others who have the same size bags go by -- and my computer is in that bag (Would you trust a company named after a mythical creature to handle a $1700 piece of equipment? I think not!) . But I hand it over and pray for the best.
Pokhara is our next stop on the Nepal tour. It is a lake town that is known for its trekker trips and relaxing in a peaceful setting away from all of the chaos of Kathmandu. The resort we are staying at -- Fishtail Lodge -- is very rustic and quaint -- a total departure from the Hyatt. But we most are looking to relax and their pool is just what we need. The sun is HOT and frankly, I think all we are thinking is a good swim and a relax day in the shade, napping and reading. And that's what we do -- as well as keep applying the sunscreen as I am getting a little toasty.
The tour guide had set up sightseeing -- which we decide to blow off in favor of relaxing -- and we opt for lunch at the hotel. Ahhhh.... service in Nepal: I have found that it would be better if I would take my own order, get my own drink, make my own food and my companions' food, serve it and I would still come out four times faster than when we could even get our drinks. We make the mistake of not ordering our food with our drinks and we also opt for western-style fare so after starting out with some other tables in the dining room with us -- we end up being the last ones by more than 45 minutes. Maybe we would have been better off ordering the Nepali food......
Later, instead of the hotel dining hall, we opt to go into town on the recommendation of our host, Kiran. He has previously told us that there are several restaurants on the lakefront and all we have to do is walk about 10-15 minutes. Another Nepali lesson: Time estimates and distance are waaaayyyy off. We have to cross the river on the hotel's person-powered raft, walk down the road to the main road and then start walking into town, Along the way, we stop and window shop -- picking up some purchases along the way. The town is dead and about a quarter of the shops are firmly closed up. But we ask around for this restaurant -- Boomerangs -- that was recommended to us and we find it an half-hour later. And wouldn'tcha know it.... it is dead. No one is in there... and after some debate and growling stomachs, we decide to head back across the street to a restaurant that looks like it is busy (or busy compared to other dead restaurants). But we are misled as the large crowd we see is more of a group having cocktails and the restaurant inside is deader than a doornail.
Dave and I take a chance and order more 'American' cocktails and they are probably some of the worst I have ever had -- I should know by now to just stick with the Nepali beer -- as my drink is completely inedible. Try all booze -- it was supposed to be a 'blended' daiquiri and I am not one for stiff drinks of really bad liquor.
But the meal proves to be somewhat better -- but it was probably one of the lesser quality ones we had in all of our travels. And the bonus is getting dessert across the street at this gelato stand that proves to be worth it. There is some confusion when it comes time to pay as I still have not mastered the money and which bill is which -- so when I hand the money to the clerk I think he owes me more money back and is trying to cheat me. But he goes over what I gave him and returns some change -- even though I still think he has stiffed me. The gelato is good and the owner makes up for the confusion by helping us get a taxi.
The taxi looks like a beat-up rabbit -- and we all pile in with Dave up front. Driving at night in Nepal is even more harrowing then daytime because headlights on are OPTIONAL! So that car coming, or people on the road, or that bicyclist in your path -- you may not see him until the last minute. It is almost better not to watch the road and close your eyes. We make it back to the lodge dock in one piece but find out that the hand ferry is done for the night. Our ride back to the hotel is by canoe across the lake -- which makes me glad that I only had one glass of beer at the restaurant and nothing more. The guy piloting the canoe is quick and adept but all I can think of my companions is please don't tip over the canoe. And the four of us plus driver seems to bring us close to max weight. We make it over to the lodge -- all still dry.
Kathmandu, part 2
We get picked up at 6:15 for our ride to the domestic airport. Come to find out as we are whisked quickly through that they have delayed the flight for us by 15 minutes because we were late. But then we have to switch planes because ours is not working so they load us up on the bus and proceed to drive about 25 feet to the plane that was next to our original -- only in Nepal...
The Himalayan flight ends up being a bust after being the air for maybe 20 minutes as visibility is nothing so we head back to the plane. After all of us wait around, we are told that we can rebook for tomorrow or get a refund. There is some confusion with our rebooking as we never had the actual tickets and were only given the boarding passes. A Yeti Airline representative waits to talk to our driver (after much talking in circles with us) and we get it somewhat squared away for tomorrow.
More on:
Sightseeing at the Hindu temple....
Sightseeig at the Buddhist temple/best overlook peak of Kathmadu valley...
Our tour guides -- Prudip and Jack....
A shortcut to the ancient city and the ancient city itself....
And a wacky ride to a wonderful Nepali meal with Kiran and his family....
(Behind on these posts as I have been without Internet for the last few days. Hope to be back in Kathmandu by tomorrow evening where we will have cell phone service and real fast Internet service -- right now I am in an Internet cafe about 50 km from the India/Nepal border nad as Dave put it 'their Internet here is the equivalent of two cans and a string tied together.)
The Himalayan flight ends up being a bust after being the air for maybe 20 minutes as visibility is nothing so we head back to the plane. After all of us wait around, we are told that we can rebook for tomorrow or get a refund. There is some confusion with our rebooking as we never had the actual tickets and were only given the boarding passes. A Yeti Airline representative waits to talk to our driver (after much talking in circles with us) and we get it somewhat squared away for tomorrow.
More on:
Sightseeing at the Hindu temple....
Sightseeig at the Buddhist temple/best overlook peak of Kathmadu valley...
Our tour guides -- Prudip and Jack....
A shortcut to the ancient city and the ancient city itself....
And a wacky ride to a wonderful Nepali meal with Kiran and his family....
(Behind on these posts as I have been without Internet for the last few days. Hope to be back in Kathmandu by tomorrow evening where we will have cell phone service and real fast Internet service -- right now I am in an Internet cafe about 50 km from the India/Nepal border nad as Dave put it 'their Internet here is the equivalent of two cans and a string tied together.)
If only we knew....
The next morning, we leave for Nepal, Kathmandu to be precisely. And we leave at the expected time, but Dundup stops to get us some going-away white scarves, Gram decides she needs the bathroom and it can't wait until the airport and we are starting to cut it close.
We get there and find out we still have to fill out forms before we can even enter the airport. And there is a group of 50 German travelers in front of us, kind of spread out and they are not letting Gram pass, and the leader is kind of rude and admonishes Gram for even trying to get around them. We end up being the last in line at the check-in counters (they only have two going) and with the group ahead of us... it takes foreever.
We end up being 15 kilos overweight between the three of us. And even after Cait shipped some stuff. And then there are more forms to fill out and another line to try and get around the Germans on. We end up being at the back of the plane and it really is a quick, plane ride but as Gram point out that most of our "neighbors" must have not heard of soap and water while they were in Tibet.
We do pass the Himalayas as our pilot is kind enough to point out and we are on the right side of the plane, and since I got the window seat, I get a great view and become photographer for half our plane.
We deplane at the front and back and the large group is pushing and showing (and frankly for a bunch of old farts they really had no manners!) to a point that as I am trying to reach up for one of cait's many bags, the woman behind me shoves me so hard that she dislodges the tray table and I get hung up on it, struggling to get my footing and get off the plane.
Getting through immigration proves to be a problem as the German group starts creating new queues and has no clue what they are doing, causing problems for the rest of the plane. Half don't have the proper forms and the other half our just milling about. Finally, Gram has had enough and cuts in front of the group that is standing around, while Cait and I make our moves as fast as we can to cut-off any attempts to get to the immigration clerk (they do eventually open one more line for our plane).
We get to the baggage claim and I can already see that this is a third-world country. Signs abound in English that the trolleys are free and as much luggage that we have we will need a trolley. A young Nepali man takes our bags and the other women in my group decide to use the bathroom. So I watch what is going on around me and see people pass this xray scanner as we leave not even bothering to use it. But as we go past it, the people in charge say something to our trolley guy and he unloads all five of our heavy bags and outs them through it. We finally can get outside, where chaos ensues.
People are pushing and shoving trying to get to "help" with our trolley and we are desperately fighting off the taxi drivers and looking for the person who is supposed to meet us (who we have no clue is). I finally spot the Hyatt sign and we work it out with the manager and driver that we are guests there and they will be happy to take us. By now, we are soaked from sweating and the humidity has hit us like a wet blanket in the face. The driver passes out cold waters and gets the A/C cranking and we are on our way to the hotel.
The hotel -- or dubbed affectionately by my travel mates as 'The Compound' -- becomes our oasis in the middle of the last hellhole on earth.
There are people, dust, garbage, cows and monkeys running the streets. They drive on the opposite side of the road, and we were so out of it when we first boarded that hotel shuttle, that we didn't notice that.
The Hyatt is amazing and you would only know you were in Kathmandu from stretching your neck and looking out Gram and Cait's room. From my room, you would think yor were looking out of the windows into a Michigan golf course.
We get to the check-in desk and our greeted with ice cold lemon teas. Cait hesitates before taking it, "Is it free?" I nudge her and tell her that this is a 5-star resort and of course, it is free. Our coordinator arranged for this hotel and we are only paying $90 U.S. a night -- if this was in the states, it would go for $350-500/night.
And because of the time change and travel, we are 2 hours and 15 minutes ahead (or so our body tells us) and it is time for lunch. (By the way, Nepal is in its own time zone and I have no clue how they came up with the whole 15 minutes thing.) So it is lunch and we order at their Western/Indian cafe and wow, that was a welcome change from the last few days. Cait is so hungry that she not only finishes her Ceasar/chicken salad, 4 breadsticks and butter that she moves on to the rest of Gram's fries, and a quarter of my vegetarian club. By then, Kiran (our host and a colleague of Gram's) has joined us and he has already gotten to see some of our American personality.
We head off to see the local Buddist stupa (oh goodie another temple) and it is actually different from the previous ones. There is a neighborhood geared toward tourists and our entrance fee is $100 rupees, while Kiran and his 22-year-old son (who is off on holiday and joining us for the afternoon) are free. It is 63 rupees to an US dollar, for those who would like to know.
This local stupa we can only climb on from the outside and come to find out it is a dating spot, where couples come to cuddle, and court each other. Kiran's family is Hindu which I find out is the number one religion in Nepal, Buddhism second.
We head over to the orphange that Gram works with to see the children. All that is right there at the time are the babies where Cait and I play and hold some of them and Gram has us take pictures and kind of keep our eye's on the babies interactions with the caretakers. We were only supposed to be there for 20 minutes, but end up there for almos an hour -- I honestly can say that the children look well cared for but most have this lack of thrive to them as if they are already old souls. Some are sickly while others have been rehabbed to a better health.
We end up next at this other market, Thalen, where it is more geared to backpackers. (The neighborhood boasts this bar, Rum Doodle, which holds Newsweek magazine's 1985 award for one of the world's best bars -- I was in grade school then,puhhhleazz...)
It rains off and on while walking around here and we are killing time to go to our agency, which turns out is also hot in there too. After some delays with the credit card machine, we are on our way.
Dinner ends up being fab also. But before that we have drinks in the lobby bar, where Cait has possibly the worst pina colada ever and proceeds to get quickly drunk off of. More drinks at dinner and I'm trying to do damage control on a slowly out of control Cait, who has also had a glass of wine by now. Dessert was a little slow in coming -- so we make a mad dash to get out of there as we have a 5 a.m. wake-up call for our Himalayan sightseeing flight.
We get there and find out we still have to fill out forms before we can even enter the airport. And there is a group of 50 German travelers in front of us, kind of spread out and they are not letting Gram pass, and the leader is kind of rude and admonishes Gram for even trying to get around them. We end up being the last in line at the check-in counters (they only have two going) and with the group ahead of us... it takes foreever.
We end up being 15 kilos overweight between the three of us. And even after Cait shipped some stuff. And then there are more forms to fill out and another line to try and get around the Germans on. We end up being at the back of the plane and it really is a quick, plane ride but as Gram point out that most of our "neighbors" must have not heard of soap and water while they were in Tibet.
We do pass the Himalayas as our pilot is kind enough to point out and we are on the right side of the plane, and since I got the window seat, I get a great view and become photographer for half our plane.
We deplane at the front and back and the large group is pushing and showing (and frankly for a bunch of old farts they really had no manners!) to a point that as I am trying to reach up for one of cait's many bags, the woman behind me shoves me so hard that she dislodges the tray table and I get hung up on it, struggling to get my footing and get off the plane.
Getting through immigration proves to be a problem as the German group starts creating new queues and has no clue what they are doing, causing problems for the rest of the plane. Half don't have the proper forms and the other half our just milling about. Finally, Gram has had enough and cuts in front of the group that is standing around, while Cait and I make our moves as fast as we can to cut-off any attempts to get to the immigration clerk (they do eventually open one more line for our plane).
We get to the baggage claim and I can already see that this is a third-world country. Signs abound in English that the trolleys are free and as much luggage that we have we will need a trolley. A young Nepali man takes our bags and the other women in my group decide to use the bathroom. So I watch what is going on around me and see people pass this xray scanner as we leave not even bothering to use it. But as we go past it, the people in charge say something to our trolley guy and he unloads all five of our heavy bags and outs them through it. We finally can get outside, where chaos ensues.
People are pushing and shoving trying to get to "help" with our trolley and we are desperately fighting off the taxi drivers and looking for the person who is supposed to meet us (who we have no clue is). I finally spot the Hyatt sign and we work it out with the manager and driver that we are guests there and they will be happy to take us. By now, we are soaked from sweating and the humidity has hit us like a wet blanket in the face. The driver passes out cold waters and gets the A/C cranking and we are on our way to the hotel.
The hotel -- or dubbed affectionately by my travel mates as 'The Compound' -- becomes our oasis in the middle of the last hellhole on earth.
There are people, dust, garbage, cows and monkeys running the streets. They drive on the opposite side of the road, and we were so out of it when we first boarded that hotel shuttle, that we didn't notice that.
The Hyatt is amazing and you would only know you were in Kathmandu from stretching your neck and looking out Gram and Cait's room. From my room, you would think yor were looking out of the windows into a Michigan golf course.
We get to the check-in desk and our greeted with ice cold lemon teas. Cait hesitates before taking it, "Is it free?" I nudge her and tell her that this is a 5-star resort and of course, it is free. Our coordinator arranged for this hotel and we are only paying $90 U.S. a night -- if this was in the states, it would go for $350-500/night.
And because of the time change and travel, we are 2 hours and 15 minutes ahead (or so our body tells us) and it is time for lunch. (By the way, Nepal is in its own time zone and I have no clue how they came up with the whole 15 minutes thing.) So it is lunch and we order at their Western/Indian cafe and wow, that was a welcome change from the last few days. Cait is so hungry that she not only finishes her Ceasar/chicken salad, 4 breadsticks and butter that she moves on to the rest of Gram's fries, and a quarter of my vegetarian club. By then, Kiran (our host and a colleague of Gram's) has joined us and he has already gotten to see some of our American personality.
We head off to see the local Buddist stupa (oh goodie another temple) and it is actually different from the previous ones. There is a neighborhood geared toward tourists and our entrance fee is $100 rupees, while Kiran and his 22-year-old son (who is off on holiday and joining us for the afternoon) are free. It is 63 rupees to an US dollar, for those who would like to know.
This local stupa we can only climb on from the outside and come to find out it is a dating spot, where couples come to cuddle, and court each other. Kiran's family is Hindu which I find out is the number one religion in Nepal, Buddhism second.
We head over to the orphange that Gram works with to see the children. All that is right there at the time are the babies where Cait and I play and hold some of them and Gram has us take pictures and kind of keep our eye's on the babies interactions with the caretakers. We were only supposed to be there for 20 minutes, but end up there for almos an hour -- I honestly can say that the children look well cared for but most have this lack of thrive to them as if they are already old souls. Some are sickly while others have been rehabbed to a better health.
We end up next at this other market, Thalen, where it is more geared to backpackers. (The neighborhood boasts this bar, Rum Doodle, which holds Newsweek magazine's 1985 award for one of the world's best bars -- I was in grade school then,puhhhleazz...)
It rains off and on while walking around here and we are killing time to go to our agency, which turns out is also hot in there too. After some delays with the credit card machine, we are on our way.
Dinner ends up being fab also. But before that we have drinks in the lobby bar, where Cait has possibly the worst pina colada ever and proceeds to get quickly drunk off of. More drinks at dinner and I'm trying to do damage control on a slowly out of control Cait, who has also had a glass of wine by now. Dessert was a little slow in coming -- so we make a mad dash to get out of there as we have a 5 a.m. wake-up call for our Himalayan sightseeing flight.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Tripping, packing, and touring....
Breakfast has been turning out to be a good start to the day and Two-Left Feet here almost didn't make it to see the buffet today as she tripped walking into the breakfast room and Gram got to see the whole thing. I did make a nice recovery and not land flat on my face ...
Each morning, we have had a new set of people we have shared tables with and this morning was kind of interesting as you could tell the women next to us were not native English-speakers but were eavesdropping on our conversation, which included past and present love interests, Cait being unemployed and having to find a job soon or she will be deported and Gram was looking at Tibetan wedding rings. So I'm sure they had an earful to talk about.
First things first today: Cait and I need to ship some things (me to the U.S., her to Beijing to get her luggage weight down.) And the China Post is an experience all unto itself that typically sums up the whole Chinese government experience.
We get in there and we expect it to be busy with customers but it is relatively quiet. With Dundup's help, I start at this one counter, where they ask me what I am shipping. Then I have to purchase a box and tape. Then I have to write my shipping address on three sides of the box, then I have to fill out the form for customs and shipping, and then the guy boxes up the box (which I have to pay for) and then I finally can decide what price I want to pay to ship the box (I chose the more expensive air option as I worry about the box spending more than a month on a ship and not making it.) All in all I see 6 people -- where in the States it would have been one person.
So in summary:
1 box and tape -- 3.5 yuan
1 packaging job -- 3 yuan
Shipping the box -- 832 yuan
Knowing that the box MIGHT actually make it and watching the Chinese bureaucracy in action: PRICELESS!
(and just to let you guys know it cost Cait to mail and insure her package -- 200 yuan. Us foreigners sure do get ripped off. )
We head to a monastery that is 2 hours away and at 4180 meter altitude. This one was is very quiet and we have to drive on these switchback roads up a long hill. Mr. Lee, our driver, is taking these ones pretty slow as those of us try to brace ourselves from falling legs over head as we tumble from side to side.
Us girls make a quick break for the restroom (poor Dundup is getting to know are habits) and we meet up with him as he is having a morning snack of these glutinous noodles that we get to watch this woman make. he tells us this dish is very spicy and we would not like it. Frankly, I am not a fan of the glutinous noodles. Instead we but a piece of this sweet bread that is beautifully designed with a pattern and quite good as a mid-morning snack.
We tour the monastery, where the monks run a snack/sundries shop and get to see a more relaxed, quieter atmosphere with few groups overcrowding the place. The structure of the building was all but destroyed in the Cultural Revolution and they are still rebuilding/fixing many of the buildings. Local people did manage to save and hide some things such as the Pakpa Gyey Tongpa -- the books they use to read from where the 8000 verses are written all in gold ink and are over 600 years old. They also saved the Shakyamuni Buddha which is always ornate and gorgeous. The 1000 faces of buddhas are new and created as small models -- we ask why 1,000 after seeing so many in all the temples and Dundup tells us they represent the one Buddha and his many manifestations. So I kid around saying, "Angry buddha, sad buddha, hungry buddha, sleepy buddha...."
We do stumble upon a man working on a new statue of the Thunderbolt god. The body is being built from wood than they paint it -- which he is doing now -- all of this takes place in a prayer area that has been turned into a working workshop. We do also stumble upon some monks chanting in a small alcove area and they smile and laugh at us and clap their hands as if too mock us and tells us we are doing all of this -- life-- wrong.
We head to the markets after lunch and Cait works her Mandarin magic, bargaining her little heart out for me to score as many beads that i like and can buy. They also buy some small gifts for back home and after a couple hours in the intense sun we head back to the hotel, where Mr. Lee talks Cait's ear off in Mandarin. (He seems more comfortable talking to her when our tour guide is not around.)
We are surprised on our way to dinner as Dundup comes to deliver a take-home barrel of barley beer for us. And he also gifts us with some "yak bone" earrings in the pattern we had been seeing of prosperity around Tibet.
Need to get going... will continue at a later time today.
Each morning, we have had a new set of people we have shared tables with and this morning was kind of interesting as you could tell the women next to us were not native English-speakers but were eavesdropping on our conversation, which included past and present love interests, Cait being unemployed and having to find a job soon or she will be deported and Gram was looking at Tibetan wedding rings. So I'm sure they had an earful to talk about.
First things first today: Cait and I need to ship some things (me to the U.S., her to Beijing to get her luggage weight down.) And the China Post is an experience all unto itself that typically sums up the whole Chinese government experience.
We get in there and we expect it to be busy with customers but it is relatively quiet. With Dundup's help, I start at this one counter, where they ask me what I am shipping. Then I have to purchase a box and tape. Then I have to write my shipping address on three sides of the box, then I have to fill out the form for customs and shipping, and then the guy boxes up the box (which I have to pay for) and then I finally can decide what price I want to pay to ship the box (I chose the more expensive air option as I worry about the box spending more than a month on a ship and not making it.) All in all I see 6 people -- where in the States it would have been one person.
So in summary:
1 box and tape -- 3.5 yuan
1 packaging job -- 3 yuan
Shipping the box -- 832 yuan
Knowing that the box MIGHT actually make it and watching the Chinese bureaucracy in action: PRICELESS!
(and just to let you guys know it cost Cait to mail and insure her package -- 200 yuan. Us foreigners sure do get ripped off. )
We head to a monastery that is 2 hours away and at 4180 meter altitude. This one was is very quiet and we have to drive on these switchback roads up a long hill. Mr. Lee, our driver, is taking these ones pretty slow as those of us try to brace ourselves from falling legs over head as we tumble from side to side.
Us girls make a quick break for the restroom (poor Dundup is getting to know are habits) and we meet up with him as he is having a morning snack of these glutinous noodles that we get to watch this woman make. he tells us this dish is very spicy and we would not like it. Frankly, I am not a fan of the glutinous noodles. Instead we but a piece of this sweet bread that is beautifully designed with a pattern and quite good as a mid-morning snack.
We tour the monastery, where the monks run a snack/sundries shop and get to see a more relaxed, quieter atmosphere with few groups overcrowding the place. The structure of the building was all but destroyed in the Cultural Revolution and they are still rebuilding/fixing many of the buildings. Local people did manage to save and hide some things such as the Pakpa Gyey Tongpa -- the books they use to read from where the 8000 verses are written all in gold ink and are over 600 years old. They also saved the Shakyamuni Buddha which is always ornate and gorgeous. The 1000 faces of buddhas are new and created as small models -- we ask why 1,000 after seeing so many in all the temples and Dundup tells us they represent the one Buddha and his many manifestations. So I kid around saying, "Angry buddha, sad buddha, hungry buddha, sleepy buddha...."
We do stumble upon a man working on a new statue of the Thunderbolt god. The body is being built from wood than they paint it -- which he is doing now -- all of this takes place in a prayer area that has been turned into a working workshop. We do also stumble upon some monks chanting in a small alcove area and they smile and laugh at us and clap their hands as if too mock us and tells us we are doing all of this -- life-- wrong.
We head to the markets after lunch and Cait works her Mandarin magic, bargaining her little heart out for me to score as many beads that i like and can buy. They also buy some small gifts for back home and after a couple hours in the intense sun we head back to the hotel, where Mr. Lee talks Cait's ear off in Mandarin. (He seems more comfortable talking to her when our tour guide is not around.)
We are surprised on our way to dinner as Dundup comes to deliver a take-home barrel of barley beer for us. And he also gifts us with some "yak bone" earrings in the pattern we had been seeing of prosperity around Tibet.
Need to get going... will continue at a later time today.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Traffic jams and shopping delights....
We get on the road back to Lhasa after some breakfast (more Chinese in style and less Western). The first stop is a market in Shigatse and it is an experience that will be repeated for the rest of the day.
Most of the vendors are just starting to set out their wares and when they see the three white woman coming, it is almost a fisticuffs for our attention. I'm in the market for beads, and Gram and Cait are just browsing. Cait has already told me, "If they ask for 100, tell them you will give them 10. They will give it to you if they want to sell it." And so I try bargaining my little heart out, punching the number into the calculator (that all of them keep in their bras and whip out when they want to talk numbers).
I've learned to walk away if I am not getting anywhere with numbers, and I get the same mantra from most of them, "Missee, I have no money. No money." And usually I am a sucker for that kind of stuff but Dundup has already laughed at the prices I have paid and tells me "too much." (Even though when you break it down -- I am getting a good deal by American standards.)
I do get most of the woman to agree to my price, but their tactic to keep me there is to link their arms through mine as if to hold me there and also grab my sweater. If i stop at a blanket, and try to walk away it is the sweater pull and in one case -- the woman grabs my strap on my bag and yanks me back. More than once, Cait has to detangle them from me.
I do end up with some different beads -- and Gram ends up with a cool-looking dirty tea pot that needs serious cleaning.
All in all, we leave the market satisfied and try to head out of Shigatse but are stopped about 30 minutes into the trip. There are cars backed up and our driver turns off the engine, lights a smoke and goes to check out the delay. Come to find out a large Mack truck has gotten stuck in the mud where they are trying to repair the road. We get on the way after about 40 minutes -- but while we were waiting we did have many stares by the locals as they walked by to check out the action and a monk that gave a very cheerful, "Hello."
"Hello, money and good-bye" are all phrases that most locals have picked up. I even had a 3-year-old tell me "hello" at a local market later in the day.
The trip home is one of napping, some really rank toilets -- where we have come to run out and zip up our pants for all the world to see -- as the smell is so gagging, and a couple of false stops by our tour guide thinking we want lunch when, in fact, we do not. (Or let me rephrase that: Gram and I do not, Cait will always eat....)
There is a communication error as we tell our tour guide we want to go to a fabric store, and end up in a carpet factory. Some nice stuff, but I am just not in the market for a rug right now.
We do lunch at this local place in Lhasa, where they bring us Cokes and tea, and Dundup wants me to try the "yak butter tea." I politely take a sip and then try to get Cait to drink it when she returns from the restroom. The food is good and too much as always for three people -- and I even try the sweet and sour yak -- Looks like chicken, tastes like chicken.
Off to more markets we go, ending up back near the 8-corners market. We are on a mission to find a fabric store and a jewelry store for this ring that Gram wants.
Gram admired the ring on Dundup's finger and it is the traditional wedding ring worn here. Several concentric yellow-gold rings molded together and worn on the left pinkie or index finger. (We explained that Americans where there's on the left index finger to our guide.) Gram says she's looking to get married as a joke. But she really does want that ring. After several false starts in other jewelry stores, where Cait ends up buying a necklace, we do find the shop -- but we have to go back tomorrow as they only take cash.
Throughout this trip of winding our way through the market, I take tons of pictures fascinated by all the wares. And we also stop to buy: beads, pashminas, some fabric, a CD of a local woman that I liked that was playing on the restaurant's stereo and a few purses. My bargaining is getting good by now -- and I'm pretty darn proud of myself. The other phrase I learn is "Cheap, cheap" when the vendors are trying to tell me they are giving me a good deal. As Cait says, it sounds like several birds squawking.
Cait decides she wants a blanket, and we are off in that direction. Back through the streets are butchers, some pool halls and come to find out a Muslim area complete with mosque. Dundup does take us to this store -- a fair-trade shop that has some amazing stuff -- and while Cait rejects their blanket supply, Gram and I are like two kids in a candy shop. The prices are reasonable and knowing that the artisans will get the money back, I purchase some cool finds. They do have a website and the shop's workers are very friendly and knowledgeable about where the goods are coming from.
We have spent so much time in the market that our driver has gone home for the day, so we are shuttered into a taxi (15 yuan for the three of us -- cheap, cheap).
Cocktails at Chang's bar in the hotel follow -- and they have run out of Jack Daniels which leaves Gram a little miffed -- "Driver coming with it tomorrow" we are told. So they opt for very weak Malibu and Cokes, me a Malibu and coconut juice (and I can not taste any liquor what so ever).
The rest of the night is uneventful as we do dinner in the western cafe, and I spend the evening updating all of you -- slightly bleary-eyed and tired from a long day.
Tomorrow it is off to another monastery two hours away, a stop at the post office for Cait to ship some stuff to Beijing as she realizes she will be charged throughout Nepal, and China when she re-enters and I plan to ship some stuff home, and another trip to the market.
Most of the vendors are just starting to set out their wares and when they see the three white woman coming, it is almost a fisticuffs for our attention. I'm in the market for beads, and Gram and Cait are just browsing. Cait has already told me, "If they ask for 100, tell them you will give them 10. They will give it to you if they want to sell it." And so I try bargaining my little heart out, punching the number into the calculator (that all of them keep in their bras and whip out when they want to talk numbers).
I've learned to walk away if I am not getting anywhere with numbers, and I get the same mantra from most of them, "Missee, I have no money. No money." And usually I am a sucker for that kind of stuff but Dundup has already laughed at the prices I have paid and tells me "too much." (Even though when you break it down -- I am getting a good deal by American standards.)
I do get most of the woman to agree to my price, but their tactic to keep me there is to link their arms through mine as if to hold me there and also grab my sweater. If i stop at a blanket, and try to walk away it is the sweater pull and in one case -- the woman grabs my strap on my bag and yanks me back. More than once, Cait has to detangle them from me.
I do end up with some different beads -- and Gram ends up with a cool-looking dirty tea pot that needs serious cleaning.
All in all, we leave the market satisfied and try to head out of Shigatse but are stopped about 30 minutes into the trip. There are cars backed up and our driver turns off the engine, lights a smoke and goes to check out the delay. Come to find out a large Mack truck has gotten stuck in the mud where they are trying to repair the road. We get on the way after about 40 minutes -- but while we were waiting we did have many stares by the locals as they walked by to check out the action and a monk that gave a very cheerful, "Hello."
"Hello, money and good-bye" are all phrases that most locals have picked up. I even had a 3-year-old tell me "hello" at a local market later in the day.
The trip home is one of napping, some really rank toilets -- where we have come to run out and zip up our pants for all the world to see -- as the smell is so gagging, and a couple of false stops by our tour guide thinking we want lunch when, in fact, we do not. (Or let me rephrase that: Gram and I do not, Cait will always eat....)
There is a communication error as we tell our tour guide we want to go to a fabric store, and end up in a carpet factory. Some nice stuff, but I am just not in the market for a rug right now.
We do lunch at this local place in Lhasa, where they bring us Cokes and tea, and Dundup wants me to try the "yak butter tea." I politely take a sip and then try to get Cait to drink it when she returns from the restroom. The food is good and too much as always for three people -- and I even try the sweet and sour yak -- Looks like chicken, tastes like chicken.
Off to more markets we go, ending up back near the 8-corners market. We are on a mission to find a fabric store and a jewelry store for this ring that Gram wants.
Gram admired the ring on Dundup's finger and it is the traditional wedding ring worn here. Several concentric yellow-gold rings molded together and worn on the left pinkie or index finger. (We explained that Americans where there's on the left index finger to our guide.) Gram says she's looking to get married as a joke. But she really does want that ring. After several false starts in other jewelry stores, where Cait ends up buying a necklace, we do find the shop -- but we have to go back tomorrow as they only take cash.
Throughout this trip of winding our way through the market, I take tons of pictures fascinated by all the wares. And we also stop to buy: beads, pashminas, some fabric, a CD of a local woman that I liked that was playing on the restaurant's stereo and a few purses. My bargaining is getting good by now -- and I'm pretty darn proud of myself. The other phrase I learn is "Cheap, cheap" when the vendors are trying to tell me they are giving me a good deal. As Cait says, it sounds like several birds squawking.
Cait decides she wants a blanket, and we are off in that direction. Back through the streets are butchers, some pool halls and come to find out a Muslim area complete with mosque. Dundup does take us to this store -- a fair-trade shop that has some amazing stuff -- and while Cait rejects their blanket supply, Gram and I are like two kids in a candy shop. The prices are reasonable and knowing that the artisans will get the money back, I purchase some cool finds. They do have a website and the shop's workers are very friendly and knowledgeable about where the goods are coming from.
We have spent so much time in the market that our driver has gone home for the day, so we are shuttered into a taxi (15 yuan for the three of us -- cheap, cheap).
Cocktails at Chang's bar in the hotel follow -- and they have run out of Jack Daniels which leaves Gram a little miffed -- "Driver coming with it tomorrow" we are told. So they opt for very weak Malibu and Cokes, me a Malibu and coconut juice (and I can not taste any liquor what so ever).
The rest of the night is uneventful as we do dinner in the western cafe, and I spend the evening updating all of you -- slightly bleary-eyed and tired from a long day.
Tomorrow it is off to another monastery two hours away, a stop at the post office for Cait to ship some stuff to Beijing as she realizes she will be charged throughout Nepal, and China when she re-enters and I plan to ship some stuff home, and another trip to the market.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Three woman get into a minivan...
Sometimes I wonder if our guide likes to just tell us stuff so we will just stop asking questions. But boy, did Gram and Cait get him today as we were trapped in a car together for over 6 hours.
Yes, what was originally told to us was a "4-hour trip," turned into more than the "6-hour tour (Gilligan's Island theme song here....)" We had a minivan that probably has not had new shocks since the late 80s and a Chinese driver who thought we were in a race car that could take curves on two-wheels. I say all this as I was the one high on Dramamine -- and managed to keep her breakfast down.
What was once a small problem (some amusement rides, a bus ride here and there) my motion sickness has only gotten worse as I aged and I tried to sleep through the bungee-cord ride. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, the radio station was set to 80s/90s soft rock. I had already heard "Lady in Red," "More than Words" and Chicago's "If You Leave." Break out the baby doll dresses and big hair and I felt like I was back at my junior high dances at St.Mary's.
We stopped on the side of the highway at this water burial site where people send their nearly departed off into that lake as fish bait, posed with yak for 10 yuan -- that was sooo Gram's idea -- and slowed for a sheep crossing. All in less than 2 hours early this morning.
And Gram and Cait had been warning me that I had not had the "real" experience with a Chinese toilet yet. All I kept thinking was how could it get worse -- and ladies and gents, it does get worse. Try a cement brick house with just troughs cut into them, no doors, only three-foot partitions and a smell you gag on from 30 feet before you enter the open doorway.
And as I mentioned earlier the questions from Cait and Gram just kept coming. Because Gram was in far back seat and Cait was in the row in front of her, she would relay questions for Cait to ask Dundup (sometimes waking him from his nap...)
Some of the questions: Why do the sheep have markings on their butts? Answer: To tell who belongs to what herd. Why are they drying the yak poo on the rocks? Answer: To use for fires in the winter.
We stop at Yamdrok Lake, which is not visible when we get there. We have now just driven two hours out of our way on a road that winds back and forth and each van/bus is trying to pass each other around each hairpin curve. I just close my eyes cause every time I open them we are almost on the edge of the road with nothing to stop us from going over the ledge. And the mist is starting to make visibility almost impossible for our driver, Lee, to see the road.
The lake sits at 4440 meters high and once the mist clears slightly we can get a view. At first we send the hawkers away, but I have a second thought and make the mistake of looking at one lady's stuff and the rest... well they come running over. I end up paying 150 Yuan for 3 bracelets, 3 necklaces. Eh. Dundup tells me the quality was not so good but I can tell it is still real stone.
Lunch is on a rock in the middle of the highway about an hour outside Shigatse. It is a box lunch the tour group has provided for us and goes down pretty well. Gram remarks at who would have thought we would be sitting on a rock somewhere in Tibet, eating lunch. And we all have to laugh as buses of tourists and Tibetans stare at the three white ladies eating on a large rock in the middle of the field.
Our first stop once we arrive in Shigatse is a monastery (Ta Shi lhun po) that has been under the Chinese government's rule for quite some time. We end up buying out most of the stock of these amulets that the monks make -- you wear them around your neck, hang in a door, hang in a car -- but never touch the ground with them. They bring you protection and luck.
In the monastery, the rooms are covered in paintings that have been recreated after the Chinese Revolution. The paintings are of 1000 buddhas. And the tomb for the Dali lama is made of 660 kg of gold. Most of the structures are original but the tombs are all new and have been re-created with money from what the Tibetans have donated. Also as Cait and I have asked about the situation with the monks, since they are chosen by the government they must obey that order and report to the monastery or they will die or end up in prison. Same for the families -- they threaten them with death or prison if they chose to hide their son from that order. And we noticed that few of the locals don't go to this particular monastery with the appointment of a new Dali lama that they don't believe in.
At the hotel in Shigatse, there is some confusion as to our check-in so we use the guest bathrooms. In just the little time we are in there and get to our rooms, Gram;s jacket goes missing. She goes to the desk and with Dundup's help explains what happened. The hotel staff tries to insult her by saying she left it in Lhasa. She's mad as are Cait and I -- but offers up this advice, "Does it really matter in 10 minutes, 10 days, 10 years?"
At another monastery (the name escapes me), the monks stop Gram to check out her toes. They are fascinated by the red polish (she is wearing her usual flip-flops) and point and bend as if to mock her toes.
We tour the usual chapels, nooks and crannies of the monastery. This one is in somewhat disrepair and there are few monks living at this one. I do get to see a young monk reclining as if he has no cares in the world and watch the tour groups jostle to ring the bell into the entrance of the chapel.
A coffeeshop break (we now realize the owner is friends with our tour guide and this was a complete set-up) yields trying their version of a lassi (lhase in Tibet) which is a yogurt shake. Cait dislikes hers and I get to down it -- I never turn away yogurt -- and have been eating my way through most of the buffets by surviving on it.
Dinner at the hotel is Tibetan food and we meet a young couple traveling through China for the month. They are 18 days in and relish a chance to talk to English speakers. We all swap tales and come to find out that the guy Turner is taking Cipro so he can eat the street food. "What?" I say, "I'm taking it just so I can survive this," (with a hand gesture to the hotel buffet.) I know there are heartier travelers out there and yes, I am jealous cause I found out I forgot to pack the Imodium about 5 days into our trip. Let's just say that I have been a little "winded" and have shared it with most of Tibet.
After dinner, we decide on the Internet cafe and massages. The internet part was fine, the massages -- well a little sketchy. All the young woman masseurs are from China and they are open 24 hours. They ask if we want them in our rooms but we opt for the "salon" area instead. As we are led to the rooms, I notice a few military guys leaving some other rooms. Hmmmmm.....
The massage part was pretty relaxing. She did work some magic on my face again and hit all the right accupressure points, but the odd part was (and all three of us compared notes later and this only happened to me) was that she also massaged my breasts. I've been in foreign countries where they work on your pec muscles but this was downright odd and a little uncomfortable. If I were a man.... well we know what would have happened in that room. I'm far from prudish and pretty open to new things, but that massage was a little odd even for me.
I thought a good shower afterwards would help me sleep but... this hotel's shower just trickled and it was either hot or cold and no in between -- kind of reminded me of the whole Peru situation. But at least there was some hot, and I crawled into bed -- only to be kept awake by a barking dog. I dug through my bag, thinking I still had the ear plugs, but realized I left them with the rest of my luggage in Lhasa. Oh well... I finally passed out to be awakened by Cait's phone alarm in the morning.
Yes, what was originally told to us was a "4-hour trip," turned into more than the "6-hour tour (Gilligan's Island theme song here....)" We had a minivan that probably has not had new shocks since the late 80s and a Chinese driver who thought we were in a race car that could take curves on two-wheels. I say all this as I was the one high on Dramamine -- and managed to keep her breakfast down.
What was once a small problem (some amusement rides, a bus ride here and there) my motion sickness has only gotten worse as I aged and I tried to sleep through the bungee-cord ride. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, the radio station was set to 80s/90s soft rock. I had already heard "Lady in Red," "More than Words" and Chicago's "If You Leave." Break out the baby doll dresses and big hair and I felt like I was back at my junior high dances at St.Mary's.
We stopped on the side of the highway at this water burial site where people send their nearly departed off into that lake as fish bait, posed with yak for 10 yuan -- that was sooo Gram's idea -- and slowed for a sheep crossing. All in less than 2 hours early this morning.
And Gram and Cait had been warning me that I had not had the "real" experience with a Chinese toilet yet. All I kept thinking was how could it get worse -- and ladies and gents, it does get worse. Try a cement brick house with just troughs cut into them, no doors, only three-foot partitions and a smell you gag on from 30 feet before you enter the open doorway.
And as I mentioned earlier the questions from Cait and Gram just kept coming. Because Gram was in far back seat and Cait was in the row in front of her, she would relay questions for Cait to ask Dundup (sometimes waking him from his nap...)
Some of the questions: Why do the sheep have markings on their butts? Answer: To tell who belongs to what herd. Why are they drying the yak poo on the rocks? Answer: To use for fires in the winter.
We stop at Yamdrok Lake, which is not visible when we get there. We have now just driven two hours out of our way on a road that winds back and forth and each van/bus is trying to pass each other around each hairpin curve. I just close my eyes cause every time I open them we are almost on the edge of the road with nothing to stop us from going over the ledge. And the mist is starting to make visibility almost impossible for our driver, Lee, to see the road.
The lake sits at 4440 meters high and once the mist clears slightly we can get a view. At first we send the hawkers away, but I have a second thought and make the mistake of looking at one lady's stuff and the rest... well they come running over. I end up paying 150 Yuan for 3 bracelets, 3 necklaces. Eh. Dundup tells me the quality was not so good but I can tell it is still real stone.
Lunch is on a rock in the middle of the highway about an hour outside Shigatse. It is a box lunch the tour group has provided for us and goes down pretty well. Gram remarks at who would have thought we would be sitting on a rock somewhere in Tibet, eating lunch. And we all have to laugh as buses of tourists and Tibetans stare at the three white ladies eating on a large rock in the middle of the field.
Our first stop once we arrive in Shigatse is a monastery (Ta Shi lhun po) that has been under the Chinese government's rule for quite some time. We end up buying out most of the stock of these amulets that the monks make -- you wear them around your neck, hang in a door, hang in a car -- but never touch the ground with them. They bring you protection and luck.
In the monastery, the rooms are covered in paintings that have been recreated after the Chinese Revolution. The paintings are of 1000 buddhas. And the tomb for the Dali lama is made of 660 kg of gold. Most of the structures are original but the tombs are all new and have been re-created with money from what the Tibetans have donated. Also as Cait and I have asked about the situation with the monks, since they are chosen by the government they must obey that order and report to the monastery or they will die or end up in prison. Same for the families -- they threaten them with death or prison if they chose to hide their son from that order. And we noticed that few of the locals don't go to this particular monastery with the appointment of a new Dali lama that they don't believe in.
At the hotel in Shigatse, there is some confusion as to our check-in so we use the guest bathrooms. In just the little time we are in there and get to our rooms, Gram;s jacket goes missing. She goes to the desk and with Dundup's help explains what happened. The hotel staff tries to insult her by saying she left it in Lhasa. She's mad as are Cait and I -- but offers up this advice, "Does it really matter in 10 minutes, 10 days, 10 years?"
At another monastery (the name escapes me), the monks stop Gram to check out her toes. They are fascinated by the red polish (she is wearing her usual flip-flops) and point and bend as if to mock her toes.
We tour the usual chapels, nooks and crannies of the monastery. This one is in somewhat disrepair and there are few monks living at this one. I do get to see a young monk reclining as if he has no cares in the world and watch the tour groups jostle to ring the bell into the entrance of the chapel.
A coffeeshop break (we now realize the owner is friends with our tour guide and this was a complete set-up) yields trying their version of a lassi (lhase in Tibet) which is a yogurt shake. Cait dislikes hers and I get to down it -- I never turn away yogurt -- and have been eating my way through most of the buffets by surviving on it.
Dinner at the hotel is Tibetan food and we meet a young couple traveling through China for the month. They are 18 days in and relish a chance to talk to English speakers. We all swap tales and come to find out that the guy Turner is taking Cipro so he can eat the street food. "What?" I say, "I'm taking it just so I can survive this," (with a hand gesture to the hotel buffet.) I know there are heartier travelers out there and yes, I am jealous cause I found out I forgot to pack the Imodium about 5 days into our trip. Let's just say that I have been a little "winded" and have shared it with most of Tibet.
After dinner, we decide on the Internet cafe and massages. The internet part was fine, the massages -- well a little sketchy. All the young woman masseurs are from China and they are open 24 hours. They ask if we want them in our rooms but we opt for the "salon" area instead. As we are led to the rooms, I notice a few military guys leaving some other rooms. Hmmmmm.....
The massage part was pretty relaxing. She did work some magic on my face again and hit all the right accupressure points, but the odd part was (and all three of us compared notes later and this only happened to me) was that she also massaged my breasts. I've been in foreign countries where they work on your pec muscles but this was downright odd and a little uncomfortable. If I were a man.... well we know what would have happened in that room. I'm far from prudish and pretty open to new things, but that massage was a little odd even for me.
I thought a good shower afterwards would help me sleep but... this hotel's shower just trickled and it was either hot or cold and no in between -- kind of reminded me of the whole Peru situation. But at least there was some hot, and I crawled into bed -- only to be kept awake by a barking dog. I dug through my bag, thinking I still had the ear plugs, but realized I left them with the rest of my luggage in Lhasa. Oh well... I finally passed out to be awakened by Cait's phone alarm in the morning.
Tibet: A king's palace of nothing....
Spent Friday afternoon at Potala Palace on the hilltop overlooking Lhasa. The hoops we had to jump through just to see it where all mandated by the government and we had a timed ticket that was supposed to gain us access at 1. Well by the time we were put through a very lame security check (I could have smuggled a goat in my sweater and they would have looked the other way) and climbed a heck of a lot of steps (god, am I out of shape or what as these little old ladies are passing me), the man taking our tickets berates Cait for being 10 minutes late.
The palace was not too impressive after seeing other monasteries all week. Since we were without a tour guide, (Dundup couldn't come because they charge too much money for him to be with us) we were on our own, trying to not get shoved by all these Chinese people as we read the English signs. (I know Dave has touched on this in his blog -- but do they get any help with the proper translation). The Chinese I have found have no boundaries on space issues and as mildly claustrophobic, OCD-ish U.S. woman I have major issues with how much I get an elbow to the back.
In the palace, there was the Jamkang -- a chapel dedicated to the Maitreya -- and a sign near the idol saying "may peace prevail." I just had to keep repeating that mantra as I get run over by these tour groups.
Another chapel -- the Lolang Kary -- showed murals dating back to the 7th century. And there were these large minature replicas of monasteries, palaces, etc. (almost like dioramas) that the original Dali Lamas proposed by created -- all cast in bronze... I wonder how much that went for a gram back in the day.
I've seen the swastika symbol throughout all these monasteries and come to find out it supposed to mean good luck in Chinese. But I have a hard time imaging that it can be used as a symbol of good.
In another chapel, there is a large tomb where the body of one of the Dali Lamas lies. (I've lost track of how many there are and would like to learn a little more when I get back home as our guide's English can be hard to understand sometimes. He says, "Yes" to everything when he may mean no, and it sometimes takes the three of us asking the same question in the simplest and most basic ways.)
But on this tomb made all of gold (again what would that bring in if it was all melted down) there is a creature that looks like a dragon, dog and human or as Cait points out "the one with breasts."
We continue wondering through the palace and it looks like the weather is going to clear. As I am paying more attention as to not trip over all these thresholds, my sweater gets caught on this intricately ornate door handle and I temporarily hung up on the door, calling to Cait and Gram that I'm stuck. I don't think the Tibetans would appreciate a permanent white resident shacking up for free.
Lunch is at a Chinese hotel and neither Gram or I are hungry -- but the human garbage disposal, Cait, (and I say this with affection as that girl is skinny and must have a hole in her leg) manages to put away a lot of food.
Our next stop for the afternoon is... drum roll please.... another monastery. This one is the Sera monastery, built in 1416 (must have been a popular time period) with originally 5500 monks, now down to 600.
This is a smaller one (and we still have to pay a road toll "fee" to get to the gates) and ends up the afternoon surprisingly well. In the afternoons, the monks debate in the courtyard their book of translations. And do they debate. They ask questions of each other, slapping hands and shaking fingers. They are the star attraction and I feel (almost) guilty for intruding with my camera. But as long as you stay on the walkways, and don't go into the gravel, everything is OK. And if you just squat to their level and take a moment to get the camera out of your face, you can coax shy smiles from most of them. And I have to remember most of these monks are just boys, teenagers and have rarely seen young white women.
Dinner is pretty mundane (we opt for the Western cafe at the hotel) and a grilled cheese and tomato later... we opt for massages at the hotel spa. There is lots of gesturing as to whether clothes on or off -- as I've gotten massages around the world and some place are more lax than others. And it was a situation of undressing in front of the woman with the door to the room wide open and I quickly got naked, jumped under the sheet and proceed to have one of the best massages of my life. All pressure point and no oil, this tiny woman could make a 200-lb,6-foot man cry. But it wasn't painful and the knots seemed to come out and she did this amazing thing to my head and face -- making my sinus headache that I had for the past several days disappear.
And ya know what -- I slept like a baby -- 7 hours of uninterrupted sleep. The best I've had in a week of travel.
The palace was not too impressive after seeing other monasteries all week. Since we were without a tour guide, (Dundup couldn't come because they charge too much money for him to be with us) we were on our own, trying to not get shoved by all these Chinese people as we read the English signs. (I know Dave has touched on this in his blog -- but do they get any help with the proper translation). The Chinese I have found have no boundaries on space issues and as mildly claustrophobic, OCD-ish U.S. woman I have major issues with how much I get an elbow to the back.
In the palace, there was the Jamkang -- a chapel dedicated to the Maitreya -- and a sign near the idol saying "may peace prevail." I just had to keep repeating that mantra as I get run over by these tour groups.
Another chapel -- the Lolang Kary -- showed murals dating back to the 7th century. And there were these large minature replicas of monasteries, palaces, etc. (almost like dioramas) that the original Dali Lamas proposed by created -- all cast in bronze... I wonder how much that went for a gram back in the day.
I've seen the swastika symbol throughout all these monasteries and come to find out it supposed to mean good luck in Chinese. But I have a hard time imaging that it can be used as a symbol of good.
In another chapel, there is a large tomb where the body of one of the Dali Lamas lies. (I've lost track of how many there are and would like to learn a little more when I get back home as our guide's English can be hard to understand sometimes. He says, "Yes" to everything when he may mean no, and it sometimes takes the three of us asking the same question in the simplest and most basic ways.)
But on this tomb made all of gold (again what would that bring in if it was all melted down) there is a creature that looks like a dragon, dog and human or as Cait points out "the one with breasts."
We continue wondering through the palace and it looks like the weather is going to clear. As I am paying more attention as to not trip over all these thresholds, my sweater gets caught on this intricately ornate door handle and I temporarily hung up on the door, calling to Cait and Gram that I'm stuck. I don't think the Tibetans would appreciate a permanent white resident shacking up for free.
Lunch is at a Chinese hotel and neither Gram or I are hungry -- but the human garbage disposal, Cait, (and I say this with affection as that girl is skinny and must have a hole in her leg) manages to put away a lot of food.
Our next stop for the afternoon is... drum roll please.... another monastery. This one is the Sera monastery, built in 1416 (must have been a popular time period) with originally 5500 monks, now down to 600.
This is a smaller one (and we still have to pay a road toll "fee" to get to the gates) and ends up the afternoon surprisingly well. In the afternoons, the monks debate in the courtyard their book of translations. And do they debate. They ask questions of each other, slapping hands and shaking fingers. They are the star attraction and I feel (almost) guilty for intruding with my camera. But as long as you stay on the walkways, and don't go into the gravel, everything is OK. And if you just squat to their level and take a moment to get the camera out of your face, you can coax shy smiles from most of them. And I have to remember most of these monks are just boys, teenagers and have rarely seen young white women.
Dinner is pretty mundane (we opt for the Western cafe at the hotel) and a grilled cheese and tomato later... we opt for massages at the hotel spa. There is lots of gesturing as to whether clothes on or off -- as I've gotten massages around the world and some place are more lax than others. And it was a situation of undressing in front of the woman with the door to the room wide open and I quickly got naked, jumped under the sheet and proceed to have one of the best massages of my life. All pressure point and no oil, this tiny woman could make a 200-lb,6-foot man cry. But it wasn't painful and the knots seemed to come out and she did this amazing thing to my head and face -- making my sinus headache that I had for the past several days disappear.
And ya know what -- I slept like a baby -- 7 hours of uninterrupted sleep. The best I've had in a week of travel.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
A little rainy and a little headachy...
A storm rolls in around 5 this morning and I wake-up but quickly fall back asleep as I realize what time it is. I have slept in short bursts here as I think there has been so much to see and do that I can't turn my brain off.
Morning is spent at breakfast and we have to scratch our original plans as the rain is still coming down and it is a little chilly. All of us are also in a fog -- mine is more sinus-related but i wish I could detach my head from my body, shake it out and reattach it again.
The rest of the morning is spent in the business center -- meeting other travelers (including a woman from Austin) and posting blog entries. I found I forgot to post a Hong Kong entry and I am just now figuring out how to add photos. Mind you, I am doing this all in a backdoor manner since the Chinese government seems to be blocking me from actually seeing my website. And Cait -- who has been such a lifesaver on this trip -- helps me read the Mandarin so I can convert the blogger website back into English. All I have to say is thank god, since I still can't read it except to watch for the symbol on a menu that looks like a ladder and means some kind of animal's insides -- eeewww....
We will be off to more sightseeing today at this famous palace -- I'll get the proper spelling later -- and it will take at least a couple of hours to tour it. It sits on the hills overlooking Lhasa and from the street -- wow, pretty impressive....
Morning is spent at breakfast and we have to scratch our original plans as the rain is still coming down and it is a little chilly. All of us are also in a fog -- mine is more sinus-related but i wish I could detach my head from my body, shake it out and reattach it again.
The rest of the morning is spent in the business center -- meeting other travelers (including a woman from Austin) and posting blog entries. I found I forgot to post a Hong Kong entry and I am just now figuring out how to add photos. Mind you, I am doing this all in a backdoor manner since the Chinese government seems to be blocking me from actually seeing my website. And Cait -- who has been such a lifesaver on this trip -- helps me read the Mandarin so I can convert the blogger website back into English. All I have to say is thank god, since I still can't read it except to watch for the symbol on a menu that looks like a ladder and means some kind of animal's insides -- eeewww....
We will be off to more sightseeing today at this famous palace -- I'll get the proper spelling later -- and it will take at least a couple of hours to tour it. It sits on the hills overlooking Lhasa and from the street -- wow, pretty impressive....
Chanting monks, and yak butter tea...
The hotel in Lhasa is charming and actually very big. It caters to many foreigners and has several restaurants, a lobby shop, craft shop and a nice courtyard. All three of us settle into our rooms and freshen up -- a long awaited shower with lots of warm water, soap and great pressure. So much in fact the tub doesn't drain quick enough and water ends up soaking the floor.
Gram still has a headache so it is just Cait and I for dinner and we try the Hard Yak Cafe -- a Chinese/Western buffet. The food is okay and Cait and chat outside at the restaurant sans any light but hey, the weather is great outside.
The next morning we find out that one of us down for the count. Gram has been sick all night throwing up and won't be joining us for the morning sightseeing. Cait and I are concerned and try to get her some amenities -- coke, water, toast, and bananas. We head to breakfast and end up meeting our guide 15 minutes late, explaining about Gram's absence. Our guide, Dundup, is a local Tibetian who speaks Tibetanese, Mandarin and English. His English and Mandarin are both spoken with a sort of indian accent -- and he tells us he learned to speak Mandarin from all of the Chinese immigrants to the area and was sent to a school during their harsh winters to learn English. The school is expensive but his family made sure he had a head start as his guide job is probably one of the more lucrative ones -- many of the local people are extremely poor and getting poorer as the Chinese have moved into the area, taking jobs and inserting the government's influence on their way of life.
We head off to Derpung monastery, built in 1416 and the biggest in Tibet. 600 monks live here with living quarters, a kitchen, and the chapels. They practice Buddhism Shayyamuni, with idols of the Dali Lama, high priests, and guardians. They have statues of the present Buddha of Shakyamuni and Future buddha of Maitrey. Cait and I ask lots of questions about the religion and the deities and well, about the monks. Before the Cultural Revolution, there was 7700 monks at this monastery.
Cait wonders how she can ask Dundup about the 'lifestyles' of the monks. "Do they have sex?" she asks. He seems confused by the question so she rephrases to ask if they can have children. 'Oh, no, no, no..." he says. We giggle and he tells us most of the monks have been chosen by the government, as young as 10, to come live in the monasteries. They share duties, rotating between cooking, cleaning and praying.
It is almost a surreal sight when we see several of them walk by in Teva sandals and then later I see one on a cell phone. Talk about the past and present colliding. The prayer chanting is an amazing sight -- the sounds and smells inside the temples is one of heady incense and the people will come to the temple and offer money and move from altar to altar with these pitchers of yak butter as kind of a prayer.
The monks change the butter, scooping out the oozing butter so the people can pour more in. There are also ways to purchase a candle, sort of like in the Catholic church, and light it and offer a prayer.
As we take pictures outside Derpung, there are several begger children and older adults. This little girl of all of maybe 4 tells us hello, money. And she is fascinated by my camera. So i take a picture of her and show her on the screen what she looks like and she gives me this amazed smile. Then she goes back to asking for money. Cait and I both don't want to draw attention to me getting her some money, so Cait blocks everyone from seeing what I am doing and as soon as I open my bag, she instead see the banana I had threw in there for later. She starts reaching for it and happily forgets about the money -- and walks off showing her mom what she has got. She devours it and is still working on it when they are all scared off the steps of the monastery by the police. I see her running down with her mom, still clutching a piece of that banana.
Around Tibet, you see these long poles of multicolor flags. We ask the meaning of them as they are on the roofs of peoples homes and the monasteries as well as on street poles. People stop and offer prayers at these poles in the market square. Blue means sky, white clouds, red fire, yellow earth and green water. Cait says in the Chinese language the symbol for water also means a blue-green color.
We do lunch at this Tibetan restaurant and Cait and I end up being the only guests. They start bringing out plate after plate and adding it to this lazy susan. Tons of veggies are a part of the offerings and I think I ate my weight in these tomatoes with sugar on them. Our driver and guide eat in the kitchen which is sort of some cultural/class thing. Even when I later buy our guide an ice cream bar, I have to force him to take it because they do not usually accept gifts from their tourees.
Gram joins us for the afternoon tour of the next monastery. It was built in the 7th century and was once considered one of the grandest. But the cultural revolution stripped most of its jewels from the temples and people started hiding things to preserve the history and artifacts. The story goes that the temple is built on a lake, and the high priest threw a gold ring into the lake, where the stone idol appeared from the center. Goats then came and brought dirt to fill in the lake and then the temple was built. The original stone idol was salvaged and preserved during the revolution and they have been working on restoring the temple to its former glory since 1986.
Again here is where we have to remember that most of these monks are still teenagers. They are washing the floors and watering the plants and a water fught ensues with these teenagers splashing and trying to dodge the water hose and using their wraps to try to hid from the water. And in the prayer area, there are some of them sleeping all curled up on the floor mats, using all the robes as blankets.
In the temple, there is a statue of this Tibetan king Songsten Gampo and his three wives -- one Chinese, one Tibetan and one Nepalese. Gram: "He got around." All of us girls -- and even Dundup -- start laughing.
After taking pictures from the rooftop, we head over to the "Eight-corners market." Dundup takes us into a more expensive, higher quality place when frankly we want good quality at low prices. I've already seen lots of scarves, beads and other cool trinkets in the outdoor market that we have passed and plan to go back there in the next couple days.
We wander around and if we buy all together -- we will "get a good discount." I decide on some sky beads that are these beads created with patterns that come from Mt. Everest. And a purple jade pendant that has been craved into a horse. The purple jade only comes from this area -- or so I have been suckered into believing.
Gram decides on a bracelet and a sky bead. And well, Cait -- is very particular and takes a loooong time to make a decision on anything -- finally decides on earrings. She is almost apologetic for how little she can pay and the one shop guy is a little sweet on her so he throws in a cell phone charm with coral and turquoise for free. Score one for Cait!
By now we are all tired and ready for a nap. The sun has become more intense, Gram in not feeling to hot, I'm thirsty and we are waiting for our car. I manage to get us the ice cream through gesturing and pointing. And we settle into the trip back to the hotel.
After a long nap, we decided to go to the Himalayan restaurant -- just Cait and I again. It is an experience as we both are hungry -- but not hungry and neither of us can really eat meat. The menu is full of lamb and yak -- but we do find some vegetable dishes -- I have some great veg dumplings in soup and a local barley soup -- we end up drinking most of our dinner. At Cait's suggestion we try the yak butter tea -- all I can say is that I tried it and well it is like drinking melted, watery warm butter. And the last sip I take is when Cait finds bugs in hers.
We also try the Tibetan desserts -- a sweet one and a cheese one. As Cait puts it, the cheese one smells like fermented cheese -- and texture is like a cold sugar cookie dough shaped into a fancy butter pat.
We head to the gift shop for some supplies and I wanted to get some postcards. There is this hilarious older woman who chats us up and gives us some tips about staying hydrated and keeping our stomach sane. She has this accent, maybe from Italy, but lives in Florida and she says,"In the hotel, I drink and drink and drink -- but them outside I donna want to since the bathrooms..." and then she makes this face.
My head is killing me so we head back to the room for some more R&R. I wish I could shake this sinus thing and it seems to get better as I drink water and also have a coke -- which I never drink in the states and let's just say I was entertaining my cousin in our room with my belching antics.
I watch some Itunes stuff I have been saving -- and by the way I'm completely disappointed at the season ending of Heroes -- and write some postcards -- less than a buck to send from here to the States.
Gram still has a headache so it is just Cait and I for dinner and we try the Hard Yak Cafe -- a Chinese/Western buffet. The food is okay and Cait and chat outside at the restaurant sans any light but hey, the weather is great outside.
The next morning we find out that one of us down for the count. Gram has been sick all night throwing up and won't be joining us for the morning sightseeing. Cait and I are concerned and try to get her some amenities -- coke, water, toast, and bananas. We head to breakfast and end up meeting our guide 15 minutes late, explaining about Gram's absence. Our guide, Dundup, is a local Tibetian who speaks Tibetanese, Mandarin and English. His English and Mandarin are both spoken with a sort of indian accent -- and he tells us he learned to speak Mandarin from all of the Chinese immigrants to the area and was sent to a school during their harsh winters to learn English. The school is expensive but his family made sure he had a head start as his guide job is probably one of the more lucrative ones -- many of the local people are extremely poor and getting poorer as the Chinese have moved into the area, taking jobs and inserting the government's influence on their way of life.
We head off to Derpung monastery, built in 1416 and the biggest in Tibet. 600 monks live here with living quarters, a kitchen, and the chapels. They practice Buddhism Shayyamuni, with idols of the Dali Lama, high priests, and guardians. They have statues of the present Buddha of Shakyamuni and Future buddha of Maitrey. Cait and I ask lots of questions about the religion and the deities and well, about the monks. Before the Cultural Revolution, there was 7700 monks at this monastery.
Cait wonders how she can ask Dundup about the 'lifestyles' of the monks. "Do they have sex?" she asks. He seems confused by the question so she rephrases to ask if they can have children. 'Oh, no, no, no..." he says. We giggle and he tells us most of the monks have been chosen by the government, as young as 10, to come live in the monasteries. They share duties, rotating between cooking, cleaning and praying.
It is almost a surreal sight when we see several of them walk by in Teva sandals and then later I see one on a cell phone. Talk about the past and present colliding. The prayer chanting is an amazing sight -- the sounds and smells inside the temples is one of heady incense and the people will come to the temple and offer money and move from altar to altar with these pitchers of yak butter as kind of a prayer.
The monks change the butter, scooping out the oozing butter so the people can pour more in. There are also ways to purchase a candle, sort of like in the Catholic church, and light it and offer a prayer.
As we take pictures outside Derpung, there are several begger children and older adults. This little girl of all of maybe 4 tells us hello, money. And she is fascinated by my camera. So i take a picture of her and show her on the screen what she looks like and she gives me this amazed smile. Then she goes back to asking for money. Cait and I both don't want to draw attention to me getting her some money, so Cait blocks everyone from seeing what I am doing and as soon as I open my bag, she instead see the banana I had threw in there for later. She starts reaching for it and happily forgets about the money -- and walks off showing her mom what she has got. She devours it and is still working on it when they are all scared off the steps of the monastery by the police. I see her running down with her mom, still clutching a piece of that banana.
Around Tibet, you see these long poles of multicolor flags. We ask the meaning of them as they are on the roofs of peoples homes and the monasteries as well as on street poles. People stop and offer prayers at these poles in the market square. Blue means sky, white clouds, red fire, yellow earth and green water. Cait says in the Chinese language the symbol for water also means a blue-green color.
We do lunch at this Tibetan restaurant and Cait and I end up being the only guests. They start bringing out plate after plate and adding it to this lazy susan. Tons of veggies are a part of the offerings and I think I ate my weight in these tomatoes with sugar on them. Our driver and guide eat in the kitchen which is sort of some cultural/class thing. Even when I later buy our guide an ice cream bar, I have to force him to take it because they do not usually accept gifts from their tourees.
Gram joins us for the afternoon tour of the next monastery. It was built in the 7th century and was once considered one of the grandest. But the cultural revolution stripped most of its jewels from the temples and people started hiding things to preserve the history and artifacts. The story goes that the temple is built on a lake, and the high priest threw a gold ring into the lake, where the stone idol appeared from the center. Goats then came and brought dirt to fill in the lake and then the temple was built. The original stone idol was salvaged and preserved during the revolution and they have been working on restoring the temple to its former glory since 1986.
Again here is where we have to remember that most of these monks are still teenagers. They are washing the floors and watering the plants and a water fught ensues with these teenagers splashing and trying to dodge the water hose and using their wraps to try to hid from the water. And in the prayer area, there are some of them sleeping all curled up on the floor mats, using all the robes as blankets.
In the temple, there is a statue of this Tibetan king Songsten Gampo and his three wives -- one Chinese, one Tibetan and one Nepalese. Gram: "He got around." All of us girls -- and even Dundup -- start laughing.
After taking pictures from the rooftop, we head over to the "Eight-corners market." Dundup takes us into a more expensive, higher quality place when frankly we want good quality at low prices. I've already seen lots of scarves, beads and other cool trinkets in the outdoor market that we have passed and plan to go back there in the next couple days.
We wander around and if we buy all together -- we will "get a good discount." I decide on some sky beads that are these beads created with patterns that come from Mt. Everest. And a purple jade pendant that has been craved into a horse. The purple jade only comes from this area -- or so I have been suckered into believing.
Gram decides on a bracelet and a sky bead. And well, Cait -- is very particular and takes a loooong time to make a decision on anything -- finally decides on earrings. She is almost apologetic for how little she can pay and the one shop guy is a little sweet on her so he throws in a cell phone charm with coral and turquoise for free. Score one for Cait!
By now we are all tired and ready for a nap. The sun has become more intense, Gram in not feeling to hot, I'm thirsty and we are waiting for our car. I manage to get us the ice cream through gesturing and pointing. And we settle into the trip back to the hotel.
After a long nap, we decided to go to the Himalayan restaurant -- just Cait and I again. It is an experience as we both are hungry -- but not hungry and neither of us can really eat meat. The menu is full of lamb and yak -- but we do find some vegetable dishes -- I have some great veg dumplings in soup and a local barley soup -- we end up drinking most of our dinner. At Cait's suggestion we try the yak butter tea -- all I can say is that I tried it and well it is like drinking melted, watery warm butter. And the last sip I take is when Cait finds bugs in hers.
We also try the Tibetan desserts -- a sweet one and a cheese one. As Cait puts it, the cheese one smells like fermented cheese -- and texture is like a cold sugar cookie dough shaped into a fancy butter pat.
We head to the gift shop for some supplies and I wanted to get some postcards. There is this hilarious older woman who chats us up and gives us some tips about staying hydrated and keeping our stomach sane. She has this accent, maybe from Italy, but lives in Florida and she says,"In the hotel, I drink and drink and drink -- but them outside I donna want to since the bathrooms..." and then she makes this face.
My head is killing me so we head back to the room for some more R&R. I wish I could shake this sinus thing and it seems to get better as I drink water and also have a coke -- which I never drink in the states and let's just say I was entertaining my cousin in our room with my belching antics.
I watch some Itunes stuff I have been saving -- and by the way I'm completely disappointed at the season ending of Heroes -- and write some postcards -- less than a buck to send from here to the States.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Chengdu and a long 48 hours on a train to Tibet....
We get to the hotel in Chengdu after meeting up with Cait. My cousin has spent the last year living in China, teaching English to private school students. She has brought her whole life with her in several bags because after our trip she plans to go to Beijing and live and work there. Since she arrived an hour ahead of us, she has spent her whole time fighting off the taxi drivers and them trying to take her luggage, "Taxee, you want taxee??"
Our luggage somehow seems to fit in this small taxi -- mind you Karen and I each have a large suitcase and a carry-on. Cait has two large suitcases, and several small bags. She found out at the airport in Shenzhen that she was 32 kilograms over the limit originally which would have been 700 yuan to fly with ($100 US) and for the last year has been making a Chinese salary -- so she threw away loads of stuff at the airport to get down to 19 kilograms over. Three of the guards/drivers from her school were kind enough to help her start pitching stuff, including her extra underwear and they seemed, she said, surprisingly nonchalant at taking from her, even though she was a little embarrassed at handing it to them.
The Wanda hotel (a Sofitel hotel -- a French chain) is amazing and beautiful and only $100 US a night -- and we have two separate rooms -- Gram in one, Cait and I in another. The bathrooms are beautiful and deluxe according to Chinese standards, and Cait says to have a bathtub (which we do) is really a luxury. The shower actually looks out into the room but our stall is frosted. In Gram's king room hers is not -- and we all have a good laugh, teasing her that she can watch TV while she is in the shower. (Set to the 70s porn music soundtrack...)
Cait decides to go down to the lobby to ask about the panda center we are going to tomorrow and if there are any good shopping places nearby. She's looking for cheap and knock-offs and because her Chinese is excellent -- the woman is taken aback by her demands to know where this place is. She keeps trying to defer her to this place that is more expensive and refuses to tell her where the cheap market is.
The next day we all go down to the Western restaurant and have breakfast. We are more than a little punchy and as I leave to get some more food -- I can hear this uncontrollable laughter from the other side of the room. It's Cait and Gram and by the time I get back to the table, they are now crying from laughing.
They had been talking about how the Chinese will sell you anything and if they don?t have what you want, they will find it or try to sell you something else. And all the street vendors and shop owners will add "ee" to everything "Missee, missee, you buy Coachee, ok? "You buy massagee, ok?" And Cait didn't realize I was getting an omelet, but misunderstood Gram and thought she said I was buying a wallet. Well she starts laughing, thinking because as she has discovered in her trips around China that you can buy anything anywhere, that the omelet guy was multitasking and selling me a wallet along with my eggs.
So we continue our breakfast and catch up on our plans for the next couple weeks. Conversation drifts to our upcoming train trip to Tibet and since this is a new experience for all of us, we wonder about the bathroom/shower situation, the food car, if there are power outlets, etc. We had bought all four beds in our room and I tell Cait there will be an extra bunk we can store our stuff -- and she thinks I've said there is going to be an extra monk in the room. More laughter ensues as we all can picture this little monk bunking with all of us girls and our luggage in this tiny room.
After breakfast we go to repack -- and help Cait condense her luggage a little. Our itinerary for the day is going to the Giant Panda Research Center (which is about a 30-minute ride away.) We need a taxi and after much negotiating, we get the driver to take us, wait for us and bring us back all for 300 yuan (it is about 7.8 yuan per dollar right now) -- so for a 3-hour trip with the three of us -- it is downright cheap.
Cait rides upfront with the driver and converses with him, translating some things for us about the area. I'm practically hanging out the window taking pictures, amazed at all the sights, sounds, smells and colors that are flying by me. I love to travel and trips like these that are so different from my every day norm get me excited in a way about life that is so very hard to explain. I'm catching a lot on film as we move, and bob, and weave through traffic and it really is a saving grace that I'm not paying attention to our driver because Gram is -- and she says it is enough to give you a heart attack. There are no rules to driving in China -- bikes, scooters, rickshaws, cars, trucks all share the road and passing and weaving and coming head on with other vehicles is the norm -- cutting off people is their way of life and I'm glad I am so absorbed in watching the street life from my passenger side of the road.
The panda center is really beautiful with all of the lush bamboo and flora fauna. The paths are pretty clearly marked in Chinese and broken English and Cait serves as a tour guide to practice for her later summer adventure as one.
We get to see giant pandas at all stages of their life -- cubs, toddlers, teenagers and adults -- as well as these red pandas. The red panda looks cross between a cat, raccoon and bear -- it walks like a bear, has a long cat-like tail and a face like a raccoon. They are funny to watch and not really too keen on people as they decide to hide in the grassy areas or in the lower drainage area to get away from all of us gawkers.
Most of the giant pandas are napping as it is the middle of the afternoon and getting warmer. Many are in the trees or reclining on makeshift lumber gym sets they have built for them. We get to an area of teenage pandas and they are lounging around, with one guy deciding to be a little more active, playing with a rope, kind of having fun with climbing on the gymset. At this area, there seemed to be more people gathered and a somehow we have aligned ourselves with a large tour group so getting pictures of the panda is pretty popular.
Gram and I are standing next to each other and along comes this extremely overweight, heavy-set man who just as he gets to the viewpoint of this active panda, the panda turns around out of most of our camera viewfinders’ sight. He mutters menacingly (in a very American voice), “you better get up there after I walked all the way to see you!” Gram and I both turn to each other in disbelief. “Talk about your ugly American,” we both say. This guy just summed up why so much of the rest of the world has such a dim view of our country and its people. Fortunately most of the people couldn’t understand him, but she and I could and it made both of us cringe. Here we are halfway around the world, seeing an animal that is revered as China’s national treasure and all this man can say is something like that. Both Karen and I could only comment on the fact that he needed to walk more hills and it wouldn’t have killed him to make that trip up that particular hill.
We continue around the park, running into mostly people of Asian descent who have no clue that one of us in our group speaks fluent Mandarin and is eves-dropping on their conversations. Most people ask each other amongst themselves, where we are from, she’s so white, etc. But the best line overheard by Cait at the park was a conversation by this young woman and her boyfriend… “Why is it that every time I get here to take a picture of him, he turns his ass to me and I have no good shot. I don’t want any more ass shots.”
And sure enough that same couple is with us at the next panda enclosure and after our group gets its pictures, they follow behind us to get into position to take their own. But that bear is no more cooperative than the previous one and starts to turn around on them, and you can see from the expression on that woman’s face and the tone of her voice that she has had enough of the bears today. Cait, Karen and I crack up watching the interaction before us -- knowing what we know about the young woman’s previous comments.
We meet up with the taxi driver after haggling at the off-site panda souvenir stands (I score a couple magnets and fans with pandas) and we head back to town. The driver says he can take us to a “lady’s market” where there is knockoffs galore.
The market is definitely a sight to behold. Women are everywhere, haggling and browsing and trying on shoes, purses, jewelry, clothes. It’s like a really dirty mall with shops stacked up one on top of each other. Most of the shoes are too small for me as I have a large foot by Chinese standards (I wear a European 39, a women’s 8) and most shoes only go up to 38 and they are a small 38. The purses are cute but I really don’t see anything that catches my eye and the clothes are out of the question for me as most would accommodate maybe one of my breasts and oh, about one thigh.
We realize that we all have to use the bathroom and it is an experience that I have been told will be repeated throughout the rest of China. It is all squatters and the smell of urine is so overwhelming mixed with the smell of smoke -- it is all enough to make you gag. And trying to juggle a shoulder bag, pants with a belt and capris that you do not want to touch the ground -- it is all a lesson in coordination on how NOT to pee on yourself.
Also come to find out that taking pictures of certain things is highly frowned upon. After we had already taken many pictures of the interior lobbies of the Wanda hotel, a worker came up to us and told us not to. And I was yelled at by a woman selling street food, when I got too close to her and her cart. I have no clue what she was yelling AT me, but I got the gist of it.
After the clothing venture, we are trying to find some snacks and alcohol (Jack Daniels for Gram) for the train trip. We find the snacks (and honestly I could have just wandered around that store for days checking out the different packaging and things they have for sale. The colors, smells, people all had me on sensory overload.) But no luck with booze as most of that is imported and hard to find. Cait warns us about the Chinese liquor as it is mostly 70 proof and equivalent to moonshine.
We catch two rickshaws back to the hotel, which in itself was an adventure. Try traveling with just a bicycle and wooden box between you and a ton of steel and many prayers are said to just get to where you are going in one piece. Both drivers decide to cross a major intersection as oncoming traffic is speeding toward us. All I could think was, “Oh God, please get us to the other side.” There are many brakes locking, some near misses and three slightly frazzled woman riders. And to top it off, the rickshaw guys decide on many of the bicycle/scooter lane paths to go against the flow of traffic so for the rest of the ride there is much honking, yelling and some bumpy curb hopping. All of this was done for 20 yaun -- maybe next time we will take a taxi -- but even then there are no guarantees that you will make it where you are going in one piece.
Dinner at the hotel’s Chinese restaurant follows -- Cait doing the ordering, and explaining to the servers that we need to hurry this along as we have less than an hour to be somewhere. Fried rice, a green leafy vegetable, some grilled Sichuan eggplant (which come to find out after I have scarfed it down and raved about the taste of it -- has pork in the dish -- whoops!) and some garlic-loaded small shrimp. When I say garlic, I mean a whole minced clove on each these 40 shrimp that after a couple of bites, Karen says she’s done with. I love it, but our time is limited and the peels are still on so I suck a few out of their shells, pay the bill and we go down to meet our tour guide who will take us to the train and has our Tibet permits.
Cait and I come down to meet Gram and find a very pissed Gram and a tour guide named Sky on the phone, looking very upset. Come to find out that Sky does not have the Tibet entry permits as promised by many people over the past few days and Gram is clearly angry at her. Cait overhears the conversation between Sky and her boss, with Sky telling him in Chinese, “Women is VERRY angry with me.” Gram’s retort when Cait relays what is being said, “Ya think??!!”
A short taxi ride over to the station and we are dropped off at this very crowded train station. People are everywhere outside and navigating with all of our luggage turns out to be an interesting situation of weaving and stepping and people moving slightly so we don’t run them over with our heavy luggage. We get into the waiting area and there are people crowded everywhere, sitting on floors, in aisles, etc.
We ask Sky who we can give money to to get ahead of all of this madness, and she starts inquiring around -- getting a skycap guy to do all of our luggage and move us to the head of the line, all for 20 yuan. Score one for Sky as our opinion of her was already in the negative. We climb onto this large, oversized golf cart and the little guy who had to toss the luggage up on the platform is not to happy. “God…” he mutters in Chinese as he manages to get Cait’s large one on the truck. We all climb in after much charades of getting us space to sit on the vehicle since all of our luggage is taking up so much of it.
The luggage guy starts talking to me in Chinese, gesturing for me to give him the 4 receipts we received when we agreed to this little operation. Since I only have learned in the last two days from Cait how to say hello, thank you, grandma, let’s go… I give him this blank stare as he wildly gestures for me to GIVE HIM those tickets. And when Cait happens to realize what is going on, she tells me to give him the tickets, he responds, “S’ank you” in this almost deep kind of voice. You had to be there but by then Cait and I are laughing and giggling, the skycap guy is laughing, imitating us and poor Sky is confused as to what we are laughing about and asks me. “Just this whole experience,” I try to tell her. “You have to laugh sometimes.” Frankly, I think she thought we were all a little crazy…. And we probably were by then.
Boarding the train became a kind of knockdown drag-out adventure as no one from the train was going to help us and it was up to the four of us to get all of this luggage up the steps of the platforms by a method of pulling, pushing, sweating and grunting. We make it to our room and by some miracle get all of the luggage into this verrry tiny room. And we are all grateful we decided to buy the extra bunk in the room cause frankly there would be no room for all of our stuff and another person.
Once settled we make a trip to the dining car and it is jammed with all the Chinese workers, having beers and well we all stand out like a sore thumb. Some waters and tea are bought and after some talk and getting ready for bed… (there are no showers but a row of sinks and a western toilet along with a “squatter”) we turn in for the night. But my bladder disagrees a few hours later and navigating from the top bunk to the floor is a challenge at not falling flat on my face, or landing on Cait who is in the lower bunk.
Chinese people get up earrrrly… and my whole body clock is off so I wake up needing to use the restroom but have no clue as to what time it is. Surprisingly we went to bed around 11 and now it is 8 a.m. and as Cait puts it way too frickin’ early by Western standards. We miss breakfast by the time we get to the dining car but some snacks of fruit, dried fruit, and cookies seem to tide us over until lunch. Gram and I stake out a table and sit and watch the scenery as Cait decided to go back to the room and nap. Scenery and people watching passes the time as do some quick text messages back home as it is still a decent hour in Dallas.
Lunch is a cool experience as the menu is all in Chinese and Cait translates for us, finding homestyle cooking of potatoes, this egg and tomato dish, a green leafy dish, some beef and peppers and a pork and shoots dish. This table of four British people asks Cait to translate the menu for her. Chaos by then has ensued in the car as people are jossling for tables and waiting in line for spots to open. There is an interesting moment while we are waiting for the guy to take our order as I can see out of the corner of my eye there is an older Chinese guy blatantly staring at my chest and I have caught him. (We girls kid around that most of the men over here are probably taken aback as they are used to something of a smaller portion size.)
The afternoon has been spent watching the scenery of the towns we go by, some more industrial than others. We spend the afternoon watching out the window, typing, talking and catching up on our lives these past couple years and reading as well as napping. I have been up and pretty wide awake since 8 -- never really resting so I know I will be sleepy tonight. We keep the door to our room closed most of the afternoon also as Cait puts it “to get away from all the prying Chinese eyes,” because as we have learned in the last 24 hours people have a tendency to stop and stare at the three women traveling together. One young woman even goes as far as to stop and stare at us in our room while on her cell phone.
A few stops along the route give us a chance to walk outside and I take pictures from the hallway, watching the activity outside the train. One young station guard is fascinated by me, waving and saying hi and smiling. And he does a double take as Cait come out of the room, realizing he has been “caught” checking her out.
We can hear the activity outside our room as people walk by, the young couple with a somewhat hyper 4-year-old have her running around the hallway. The lady with the lunch/dinner cart comes by with food and we all laugh as the voice she uses is one that sounds so monotone as if she can’t liver her life anymore. It is this Eyeore-like voice that sounds as if the world is ending, she’s so bored, somebody just ends this trip all ready, why am I always going up and down this hall.
The scenery has started to change from the small cities with their plateaued hills and small caves carved out of the mountains to more rolling green hills and plains of scrub grasses. As we sit in the dining car, we pass a few large lakes and then the scenery becomes more arrid and dry, flat. Then it is back to lush green farming land, flat and full of sheep and those Brahman cows along with the keepers and their yurts.
At dinner, Cait becomes a celebrity with people taking pictures of her on their cell phones. Ordering our dinner becomes a three-ring circus as the guy keeps putting her off and Cait starts talking forcefully in Chinese to him and the eye rolls from her are all classic as they keep changing their story as to who will take our order.
Later at night, when we are all reading and trying to go to sleep, the young Chinese woman comes around handing out oxygen tubes. Cait takes hers, “What do we do with it?” I respond, “Put it up your nose.” Laughter ensues as we realize we will look like freaks of nature as we get up to the plateau. We plug them in and they haven’t turned on the system. We fall asleep to the lull of the train.
A few hours into sleep, I wake up to Gram having problems with her oxygen tube and this weird hissing sound. I turn on the light and find out her tube keeps coming out of the wall socket. We both are on the top bunks so I’m trying to jump from her bunk to mine and not fall -- all sans eyeglasses and I can’t see a thing. After fiddling with it for awhile, Cait is up and goes to find someone who works on the train to help us. The little Asian girl is all business as she takes off her shoe, steps on Cait’s bed to reach Gram’s wall tube and manages to plug it in. “No problem,” she tells us in Chinese and leaves. The hissing sound though is really loud and we discover that if you put the tubes under the pillows, it muffles the sound. We all fall back asleep until the morning.
Morning comes too soon and we are all up around 8 again. Oohs and ahhs are the morning sounds we make as we are into Tibet and the scenery has definitely changed. There are snow-covered mountains in the distance and the ground is all covered with snow. The conversation turns to what kind of clothes we packed and if it is adequate for the Tibet weather. Cait and Gram have a couple long-sleeve shirts and jeans and light jackets. Me: I have just long pants. “I’m screwed,” I retort as we talk about what we are going to wear. But the good news is that the weather we find out is pretty mild in the daytime (60-70s) but it is at night that it gets cold. Also an Aussie woman we have talked to tells us there is a large trekkers store in Lhasa and I get some stuff there. Oh goodie! Shopping for clothes I will rarely wear in Dallas unless we get some kind of cold snap.
We decide to go get some breakfast in the dining car and to check out what they would offer. By the time, we freshen up and get to the dining car it is almost 9 and breakfast is supposed to be served until 9:30. But again to our dismay, all the workers are eating. Cait inquires about getting us some food and Gram is insistent that all she wants is tea or coffee. Cait shows one of the workers how the hours posted say until 9:30, he says, “Oh. But the workers are already eating.” Then another worker comes along (the same one who kept giving her the runaround about where to order last night) tells her, “No, we can’t serve because we are on the plateau.” He kept insisting it was because of the high-altitude thing and they can’t cook now. Cait gets mad and insists they can serve us. “All we have is noodles and rice right now.” We leave and make do with the snacks we brought -- a creative breakfast of tea, granola, fresh fruit, dried fruit, dried peas and cookies.
We spend the morning trying to repack, read, I dissect a couple of necklaces that Cait brought so I can copy it at home (India glass, seed beads, jump rings and wire work -- easy peasy! and a floating pearl necklace). Also we keep taking hits of oxygen as all of us have slight headaches and it seems too help. But the tubes almost start to hurt your nose after awhile and mine starts to run like a little kid.
The oxygen tubes are popular with the workers as Cait stumbles upon them taking hits off the tube and passing it around as if it were nitrous-oxide party.
There is a moment when Gram thinks she is oxygen-deprived because she just spent the last 15 minutes trying to figure out why her American cell phone is not charging but than she realizes she took the battery pack -- d’oh!
Also the scenery changes again. The snow has given away to clear blue skies and glorious mountains and lakes with sheep and yak on the plains. Workers are out, watching over them or working on construction and we even see a motorcycle in the middle of nowhere used by one of the herders. We stand in the hallway and take as many scenery pictures as we can but it is really hard to capture the beauty of all that we see from the windows.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Hong Kong... and humid.
After a somewhat fitful sleep, both Karen and I get up around 8 and start repacking. I realize my mouthwash has exploded in my bag so I need to clean that up but save for that, nothing else was damaged.
The room is getting pretty humid and warm quickly so we opt to go check-out and meet Dave for some dim sum for lunch over in Kowloon. The trip goes off without a hitch as we get directions from our helpful concierge (and I wrote down Dave's directions pretty clearly) and take the airport shuttle back into the town, catching a shuttle bus that drops us right into the heart of the shopping area... Prada, Dolce & Gabbana, Escada, Coach all seem to be shiny and tempting but at full-price we agree that some of our knock-offs that we previously purchased will do just fine thankyouverymuch!
We actually make it to the restaurant, Chao Inn, early and get in line as it is Sunday and a big day for families to be out sharing meals. Dave arrives and is shocked to not only find out that we were on time -- but early -- and planned to be a little late knowing that (ahem...) I am usually late.
The meal was good with some steamed shrimp dumplings, steamed scallop/veggie dumplings, BBQ pork bins, spring rolls with taro and these water chestnuts in this syrup with we think some corn. Tea is served strong and we wrap lunch up with a walk along the harbor, passing all the tourist shops and ferry tours. There are even these panda statues commemorating the 10-year anniversary for each year since the British handed China over. We walk along the star walk and Dave points out his work building across the harbor, and then bids us farewell as he needs to go to work now.
Karen and continue on, starting to get a little more sticky as the humidity and heat are climbing. We catch a ferry ride back over to the other side and head to the shuttle train. We try to use our return tickets but wouldn't you know it -- we need to pay an extra $10 HKD because the round trip was only good to leave from Kowloon.
A quick train ride back and we are headed back to the hotel, gather our luggage and go to check in. But we are too early and although checked in,we'll have to wait for our gate assignment on the other side of security. Karen wants to find this local designer who she's bought from and we have plenty of time to kill. I wander around the store as she tries on shirts and get convinced by one of the clerks that I should try on these two silk blouses. I do and well, let's just say that most foreign designers don't realize how voluptuous American woman are. Maybe in a couple more months when I lose some more weight.
Both of us are really thirsty by now and something wet and cold just sounds so good. She really wants a milkshake and I could go for a bubble tea.We search the food court and split up -- she opts for a milkshake from Burger King, I find my bubble tea and a veg. noodle soup from an Asian vendor. I realize that I have all the luggage and when my tray with soup, etc. comes it will be a juggle walking and dragging it all. Don't ask me how but I actually made it in one piece to the tables. Karen heads back, a little dejected as BK here has no milkshakes and she settle for a coke and some fries.
She also splits this humongous soup with me (and we both manage to spit out our first bites as all of it is so freakin' hot that as I type this my tongue has not recovered yet!) But we manage to polish it all off -- and just to keep eating with her chopsticks she uses them to eat her fries -- first dipping them in ketchup.
We now have a gate assignment and plunk ourselves down near an outlet to charge the laptop and my cell while we wait. She wants to check her email and the extension cord is a little short so instead she opts to sit on the floor. While I wait for her, I happen to look down and notice somehow my pants are covered in these blue/yellow splotches -- whattttt -- how dd I do that? Looks like I have been playing with the blue dye in the bathrooms.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Journey continued....
I arrive only 20 minutes late, but it takes about an hour to clear customs/immigration. Dave has kindly met me at the airport and after deciding to go outside to get a taxi -- we realize when I pull out my itinerary that the hotel is connected to the airport. It is hot and muggy outside and by now I am sweating my butt off, not expecting this wall of humidity. After weaving our way past all these fences that block you from crossing the street, we make it to the airport lobby.
I get checked in and take a quick shower to change out of the clothes I have been wearing for the last 24 hours. We decide to head up to the Peak where the view of Hong Kong harbor is truly spectacular and after a few directional mishaps (I'm Dave's first touree) we get there in one piece. The tram that takes us to the top has been operating since 1800 and people pack in like sardines into the cars. We travel at a 45 degree angle and I've chosen to sit on the wrong window side but it still makes for an interesting view.
We get to the top after many winding escalator trips. The funny things is that to get to the top, you go through a mall and the Chinese have built a mall around almost every attraction I've encountered so far (airports, subway, now this).
People are crammed along the rails to take pictures, and snagging a spot means cutting someone off. I manage to get us one beating out some guy and his girlfriend.
After numerous ictures, both of us decide we are hungry and could use a cold drink.
Finding a taxi proves to be a challenge as few and far seem to be coming down this road and everyone is grabbing for it. Dave remarks that this seems odd for HK standards as they even queue up for lift. We go around the corner and find that there is a taxi stand -- talk about being missing the boat on that one -- by then Dave can tell I'm a little cranky and tired so we head to his neighborhood our heart set on sushi.
But we get there and most of the restaurants are closed or closing and we find a bar serving a lat night menu. Wildfire (kind of a local chain as I would later see one at the airoirt) serves pizzas, bread, small plates. We try the tandori pizza (an odd miz of peppers, mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, chick peas, egplant and smoked salmon). It smells kind of sweet and I know this is a departure for Dave's pizza choices but we both like it and scarf it down with our frozen margaritas (a cold drink was my only real requirement!)
The group next to us is all male and Scottish/English adnd loud and rowdy and a little vulgar when talking about women. I want to say something but frankly I am too tired to complain and the smallest guy is twice my size.
Dave takes me over to his new digs, and he does have a nice view from his small study (the second bedroom). The place is small but since he is still unpacking things it doesn't feel that claustraphobic yet.
I'm fading fast so we call it a night and I grab a taxi. The drive back to the airoprt is pretty uneventful as I check emails and start to nod off. The driver seems as little confused as we get closer to the airport and decides to go one way, even though I repeatedly tell him at the airport, next to the airport. But I am in my haze, giving him the name of the hotel group and NOT the hotel (The hotel is connected to the airport, and it is nice called the Regal for anyone who decides to make a quick jaunt through HK.)
After driving in circles, the cab driver finds the entrance, and knocks off 20 percent for traveling in the wrong direction and misunderstanding where the hotel was.
I happily crawl into bed after waking up my step-gram Karen. We talk briefly and start to go to sleep but both of can't as the room is a little stifling. After fiddling with the control and calling the front desk -- who tells me what I have already done -- they send someone up who just fiddles with the switches, pronouncing that it will come on. I try to explain slowly in English that we want it cold, not warm, and he proceeds to back out of the room saying ok, ok.
But it never gets colder and I finally fall asleep, only waking slightly during a coughing fit, slightly disorientated as to where I am and what day it is.
I get checked in and take a quick shower to change out of the clothes I have been wearing for the last 24 hours. We decide to head up to the Peak where the view of Hong Kong harbor is truly spectacular and after a few directional mishaps (I'm Dave's first touree) we get there in one piece. The tram that takes us to the top has been operating since 1800 and people pack in like sardines into the cars. We travel at a 45 degree angle and I've chosen to sit on the wrong window side but it still makes for an interesting view.
We get to the top after many winding escalator trips. The funny things is that to get to the top, you go through a mall and the Chinese have built a mall around almost every attraction I've encountered so far (airports, subway, now this).
People are crammed along the rails to take pictures, and snagging a spot means cutting someone off. I manage to get us one beating out some guy and his girlfriend.
After numerous ictures, both of us decide we are hungry and could use a cold drink.
Finding a taxi proves to be a challenge as few and far seem to be coming down this road and everyone is grabbing for it. Dave remarks that this seems odd for HK standards as they even queue up for lift. We go around the corner and find that there is a taxi stand -- talk about being missing the boat on that one -- by then Dave can tell I'm a little cranky and tired so we head to his neighborhood our heart set on sushi.
But we get there and most of the restaurants are closed or closing and we find a bar serving a lat night menu. Wildfire (kind of a local chain as I would later see one at the airoirt) serves pizzas, bread, small plates. We try the tandori pizza (an odd miz of peppers, mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, chick peas, egplant and smoked salmon). It smells kind of sweet and I know this is a departure for Dave's pizza choices but we both like it and scarf it down with our frozen margaritas (a cold drink was my only real requirement!)
The group next to us is all male and Scottish/English adnd loud and rowdy and a little vulgar when talking about women. I want to say something but frankly I am too tired to complain and the smallest guy is twice my size.
Dave takes me over to his new digs, and he does have a nice view from his small study (the second bedroom). The place is small but since he is still unpacking things it doesn't feel that claustraphobic yet.
I'm fading fast so we call it a night and I grab a taxi. The drive back to the airoprt is pretty uneventful as I check emails and start to nod off. The driver seems as little confused as we get closer to the airport and decides to go one way, even though I repeatedly tell him at the airport, next to the airport. But I am in my haze, giving him the name of the hotel group and NOT the hotel (The hotel is connected to the airport, and it is nice called the Regal for anyone who decides to make a quick jaunt through HK.)
After driving in circles, the cab driver finds the entrance, and knocks off 20 percent for traveling in the wrong direction and misunderstanding where the hotel was.
I happily crawl into bed after waking up my step-gram Karen. We talk briefly and start to go to sleep but both of can't as the room is a little stifling. After fiddling with the control and calling the front desk -- who tells me what I have already done -- they send someone up who just fiddles with the switches, pronouncing that it will come on. I try to explain slowly in English that we want it cold, not warm, and he proceeds to back out of the room saying ok, ok.
But it never gets colder and I finally fall asleep, only waking slightly during a coughing fit, slightly disorientated as to where I am and what day it is.
Off to the aiport I go!
What a comedy of mishaps this morning. I woke up at a decent hour and was surprisingly packed ahead of time.
But somehow the time slipped away and I was scrambling to get to Alma's, who graciously offered to let me keep my car at her place (so there are no break-ins) and drive me. And she is a saint after doing a 1A shift and then getting up at 7:30 in the morning.
I-30 West was moving pretty well and I needed to stop at the Starbucks on Beltline for drinks I promised Alma and I was jonesing for my green tea latte. (I am probably the only one who goes to Starbucks only for tea -- I know I'm weird!)
Well I get off at Beltline and I know it is south of the freeway so I decided to make a left. I can see it on the corner, get in the left hand lane behind a semi and whoops, can't see the traffic lights.. and the semi is making a WIIIIIDDEEE turn which is even worse, I'm right behind him and come to find out we are both going through the red light and wouldn'tcha know it the other oncoming traffic is actually moving and not stopping for me.
So I get some honks, turn into the service drive AND crap! there is not entrance on to SB. So I'm back on the freeway heading in the wrong direction. As soon as I can exit and by this time my patience with some of the slow-moving traffic is wearing thin...
Ii is deja vu all over again as I get into the Starbucks this time -- which is packed -- so I wait my turn patiently and.... they forget about our drinks. The manager quickly rushes them through and I'm back on the freeway again...
Alma gets me to the airport in plenty of time and I gleefully check in to first class where they wave the fact that my one checked bag is 5 pounds over the 50-pound limit and they don't charge me -- score one for Liz.
Security is a breeze -- although people still don't follow the carry-on rules for liquids -- a ziploc gallon bag is not a quart size bag... sheesh, people! And then I come to realize I have put my underwear on backwards this morning -- good one, Liz! At least I have them on -- and am dressed completely.
The leg from DFW to LAX is pretty uneventful -- I snooze a little, read a couple mags, start to blog... American's domestic first class service is pretty lazy and the flight attendants are looking the other way when coach people use our lavatory.
Come to find out that two other men on the flight are also flying on to Hong Kong and one of the guys has flown out of the LAX international hub many times so he helps us navigate the path. The weather this morning in LA is gorgeous -- sunny and breezy with no humidity that I can tell -- a clear departure from Dallas.
I grab some sushi as the lunch was kind of inadequate in first class and make my way to the security checkpoint where it is complete and crazy chaos!
There is really no rhyme or reason and the TSA agents keep repeating the same mantra about shoes, water, and jackets and taking stuff OUT OF your pockets before you get to the metal detectors. This is all being done in English when clearly most of the people in line are not native English speakers. It is jut a comedy of errors as I watch people be sent back time again through the metal detectors and/or have all their luggage handchecked because they violated one of these rules.
I make it through as one of the least hassled and get a smile from all the screeners and the armed cop -- I found a friendly smile goes a long way as much as I have traveled since 9/11.
Well, my next flight leaves in an hour and I make my way through the hallways -- alllllll the way to the end of the terminal -- over the river, through the woods, around the corner... and wow! there are people everywhere... on floors, creating their own aisles and jeez... it is hot in here. Looks like they are trying to remodel but the A/C is not working and the pitiful fans are not helping either. After hearing boarding will be delayed, I make my way away from the area of the terminal and make a few phone calls and text some people, catching up on some emails.
Chaos ensues as they start to announce boarding and aren't I giddy with happiness at getting to board as biz class. I get my seat, excited to see what Cathay Pacific's biz class looks like -- and there is even a first class -- which is even more elite. Our seats recline to sleeping, the flight attendants have been nothing but helpful and friendly -- even calling me Ms. Wishaw (and pronouncing it right) -- and I am clearly one of the youngest of the 22 of us and one of few females.
I've been given papers, champagne, an amazing fresh smoked salmon appetizer, a great salad and shrimp caviar starter, a wonderful stir-fried ginger seafood main, cheese/fruit course, tiramisu and any kind of wine with each selection. Of course, I can't turn it down but I am drinking lots of water -- and as any one knows who has traveled with me -- I have the bladder the size of a 2-year-old.
The food has made me sleepy. And the personal movie player has been a blessing as I can kind of listen and do other things. Already watched Wild Hogs, now into Zodiac. I've already seen most of the new releases but there are a few I could watch.
Since boarding was delayed by almost an hour, I know we will be getting in late. But my step-gram Karen was also delayed leaving Detroit, some yahoo checked their luggage then didn't board the plane. So they had to go back to the terminal and off load it.
But somehow the time slipped away and I was scrambling to get to Alma's, who graciously offered to let me keep my car at her place (so there are no break-ins) and drive me. And she is a saint after doing a 1A shift and then getting up at 7:30 in the morning.
I-30 West was moving pretty well and I needed to stop at the Starbucks on Beltline for drinks I promised Alma and I was jonesing for my green tea latte. (I am probably the only one who goes to Starbucks only for tea -- I know I'm weird!)
Well I get off at Beltline and I know it is south of the freeway so I decided to make a left. I can see it on the corner, get in the left hand lane behind a semi and whoops, can't see the traffic lights.. and the semi is making a WIIIIIDDEEE turn which is even worse, I'm right behind him and come to find out we are both going through the red light and wouldn'tcha know it the other oncoming traffic is actually moving and not stopping for me.
So I get some honks, turn into the service drive AND crap! there is not entrance on to SB. So I'm back on the freeway heading in the wrong direction. As soon as I can exit and by this time my patience with some of the slow-moving traffic is wearing thin...
Ii is deja vu all over again as I get into the Starbucks this time -- which is packed -- so I wait my turn patiently and.... they forget about our drinks. The manager quickly rushes them through and I'm back on the freeway again...
Alma gets me to the airport in plenty of time and I gleefully check in to first class where they wave the fact that my one checked bag is 5 pounds over the 50-pound limit and they don't charge me -- score one for Liz.
Security is a breeze -- although people still don't follow the carry-on rules for liquids -- a ziploc gallon bag is not a quart size bag... sheesh, people! And then I come to realize I have put my underwear on backwards this morning -- good one, Liz! At least I have them on -- and am dressed completely.
The leg from DFW to LAX is pretty uneventful -- I snooze a little, read a couple mags, start to blog... American's domestic first class service is pretty lazy and the flight attendants are looking the other way when coach people use our lavatory.
Come to find out that two other men on the flight are also flying on to Hong Kong and one of the guys has flown out of the LAX international hub many times so he helps us navigate the path. The weather this morning in LA is gorgeous -- sunny and breezy with no humidity that I can tell -- a clear departure from Dallas.
I grab some sushi as the lunch was kind of inadequate in first class and make my way to the security checkpoint where it is complete and crazy chaos!
There is really no rhyme or reason and the TSA agents keep repeating the same mantra about shoes, water, and jackets and taking stuff OUT OF your pockets before you get to the metal detectors. This is all being done in English when clearly most of the people in line are not native English speakers. It is jut a comedy of errors as I watch people be sent back time again through the metal detectors and/or have all their luggage handchecked because they violated one of these rules.
I make it through as one of the least hassled and get a smile from all the screeners and the armed cop -- I found a friendly smile goes a long way as much as I have traveled since 9/11.
Well, my next flight leaves in an hour and I make my way through the hallways -- alllllll the way to the end of the terminal -- over the river, through the woods, around the corner... and wow! there are people everywhere... on floors, creating their own aisles and jeez... it is hot in here. Looks like they are trying to remodel but the A/C is not working and the pitiful fans are not helping either. After hearing boarding will be delayed, I make my way away from the area of the terminal and make a few phone calls and text some people, catching up on some emails.
Chaos ensues as they start to announce boarding and aren't I giddy with happiness at getting to board as biz class. I get my seat, excited to see what Cathay Pacific's biz class looks like -- and there is even a first class -- which is even more elite. Our seats recline to sleeping, the flight attendants have been nothing but helpful and friendly -- even calling me Ms. Wishaw (and pronouncing it right) -- and I am clearly one of the youngest of the 22 of us and one of few females.
I've been given papers, champagne, an amazing fresh smoked salmon appetizer, a great salad and shrimp caviar starter, a wonderful stir-fried ginger seafood main, cheese/fruit course, tiramisu and any kind of wine with each selection. Of course, I can't turn it down but I am drinking lots of water -- and as any one knows who has traveled with me -- I have the bladder the size of a 2-year-old.
The food has made me sleepy. And the personal movie player has been a blessing as I can kind of listen and do other things. Already watched Wild Hogs, now into Zodiac. I've already seen most of the new releases but there are a few I could watch.
Since boarding was delayed by almost an hour, I know we will be getting in late. But my step-gram Karen was also delayed leaving Detroit, some yahoo checked their luggage then didn't board the plane. So they had to go back to the terminal and off load it.
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