November 27, 2006

Beijing (Hutong Tour)

A Hutong is a style of one-story structure built during the Yuan, Ming, and Qing Dynasties around the Forbidden City. The structures were typically quadrangles, with large courtyards, housing nobles and support for the Emperor. Typically, one family would occupy an entire quadrangle. Today six to eight families occupy the same space. Many of the courtyards have now been filled with additional structures, providing kitchens and outhouses for the additions families.





A large contributor to Beijing's famous air pollution is the burning of coal for heat and cooking fuel by tens of millions of families. Coal is taken from raw form and pressed into cylinders. After the fuel has been consumed the cylinder turns from black to a lighter gray, without losing shape. The good news is that with the coming Summer Olympics, this is the last winter that coal can legally be burned in Beijing. Massive hydro-electric projects under way are to generate enough electricity to replace coal burning in the future.





A great mode of transportation around the narrow Huton District streets is pedi-bike.



The 700 year old Huton District is now under cultural attack around Lake Shishahai. Old structures are being torn down and replaced with new historical replica's that will be bars for the Summer Olympics crowds.







After the Huton tour we headed to the former residence of the "Last Emperor's" uncle. A great irony of China is its inability to fully admit the massive flaws of Mao and his systematic destruction of their cultural artifacts and millions of people. The shattered remaining history has now been gobbled up by the state and put on display with pride. The cognitive dissonance is numbing. As beautiful as the house and grounds were, the irony is that the only reason why it is held up as a jewel today is that the house was considered too insignificant to destroy during the cultural revolution. Under hushed voice, the guide said that the official party line is now that Mao was 60% correct. They end the sentence there, skillfully ommiting the 40% wrong portion.





It was a very pleasant surprise to receive an energetic reception from a military choir waiting to perform for tourists. This was the response to just a casual wave.



To say that the tea is China was amazing would be unbelievably trite, but it was. To sit through the forty-five minute tea ceremony, trying five different styles of tea, was a relaxing pleasure.



One of the pleasures of travel is meeting many new people. Tonight that translated into a "traditional dinner", specifically designed for tourists, with some great Australians and the Chinese National Acrobats.

November 26, 2006

Beijing (Ming Tombs & Great Wall)

Burial of the dead is always an interesting cultural experience. There seems to be a commonality in the ancient world where hubris meets mortality. In building the great pyramids, it is said that the engineers and key officials who knew the design and therefore the route to the sarcophagus were killed when each burial pyramid was sealed. The burial chambers were filled with everything the pharaoh would need for a resurrected afterlife journey. The same was true in China during the Ming Dynasty.

The Ming Tombs are the eastern equivalent of the Valley of the Kings. Generations of Tombs are arranged in proxity to the main site. The actual tombs are not elaborate stone structures, but appear as large earth hills preceded by a complex of buildings.

The largest of these buildings now hosts a few of the artifacts from the tomb.



During the Ming Dynasty, size mattered. If you were physically large, then you must be prosperous. This Emperor must have been huge. Below is a picture his jade belt. Only the jade pieces remain, as the fabric has disintegrated. Even rapped twice around the waist, imagine the shear girth. Very prosperous indeed...



Many Chinese still practice veneration or ancestor worship. So it is not uncommon to see piles of money at the foot of a statue. The real Ming Dynasty emperor buried in the hill behind would not have been over sixteen feet tall, but one definitely receives the impression that in life he was a dominant presence.



Leaving the artifacts gallery and heading straight back towards the hill is a gate, that is very important to visitors, and the grave marker. The gate is so important because it is believed that after visiting the dead one must be careful to maintain the presence of a personal soul. So, the tradition goes that on your way out you must walk through the gate and say, "I'm back" in Chinese. Otherwise your soul will be left behind at the burial ground. Another very interesting point is that there is an obvious threshold to the gate and practically any period building maintains a similar trip hazard. It turns out, that is exactly by design. Local ancient belief was that spirits do travel the earth, with both good and bad seeking to complete their tasks. However, as a means of transportation, spirits move along the ground but cannot jump. So, to keep a spirit out of your house or yard simply build a threshold high enough that it can't jump over. Or in this case, build a threshold high enough to keep them in when you jump out.



Behind the gate is a multi-story building housing the grave marker. This arrangement confused archeologists for a while. Searching structurally, there did not appear to be any passageway underneath the marker or the building leading to the gravesite. Finally, it took a linguist to solve the riddle. What the gravestone truly said was, "Behind this marker lies the Emperor" not "Underneath". The site had literally been in front of them the entire time and was simply covered with trees.



Part of veneration is the requested respect of tourists not to take pictures, even of the hill that dwarfs the marker building. Archeologists have basically found a similar cache to an Egyptian Pharaoh. Everything needed for the afterlife was buried with the emperor: clothes, gold & silver ingots, crowns, food, concubines, members of court... That's right, his favorite and most trusted people were buried alive in chambers on the site. Can you image the human posturing that goes on after the emperor's death? "No, no really, he liked me but I wasn't his favorite. Honest. I thought you were? Right?"


(On to the Great Wall)
Even if you go to the most heavily touristed location, as we did, this is a worthwhile venture. The good thing was that the weather was bitterly cold, so most tourists stayed within a few hundred yards of the main starting point. After the practically government imposed "group shot", the guide pointed us in the direction of the steeper left branch.



This route was truly "steeper". We marveled at how difficult construction must have been because we were simply, or not so simply, walking up a sometimes greater than 45 degree grade, not building it.



The climb was absolutely worth the effort. In twenty minutes we were relatively free of tourist and enjoying the views. The only down side is that this leaves you totally exposed to the wandering and incredibly persistent vendors. If you go to the wall make sure to bring your sense of humor or else these folks, trying to scrape a capitalist living together, will probably drive you a little nuts.

November 25, 2006

Seoul to Beijing

Skype is turning out to be a great tool and friend. Skype is an internet based system which allows for international calling for about $0.02 cents per minute. All that is needed is a relatively fast internet connection and a computer with a microphone. My laptop has an embedded camera and microphone so in the future it should be possible to videoconference. The other beauty of Skype is that if a friend is also registered and on-line then videoconferencing or simply calling is free. Mom, Kristen, and I enjoyed a long conversation prior to my boarding the Air China flight for Beijing. The world has become a well-connected smaller place.



Japan and Korea must have been a solid indoctrination to Asia because the transition to China feels relatively smooth. The one exception is falling prey to the typical airport cab scam where one gets snagged by someone posing as a state approved transportation provider and then charges upwards of four times the going rate. (Note: never get into a vehicle or put your bags in the trunk without agreeing to a metered rate or fare first.) I refused his offered rate and stated the usual price. He started to drive which I thought was acceptance but was really upping the ante by removing my other options. So I said, “When we get to the hotel we will ask the staff what the fair price is and I will pay you that amount.” What these imposter cabs also do is park across the street from your hotel, effectively putting a barrier between you and the assistance of the staff. Fortunately, I had received a previous tip as to a typical fare so grabbed my pack from the trunk prior to paying him half his demanded price (roughly twice the normal rate) then headed quickly across traffic and into the hotel lobby.



My room is basically nothing like what was advertised on Expedia. Just like trademarks and patents, truth in advertising is a flexible concept in China. The room had no windows; came complete with mold stained ceilings and the industrial plastic grid shower mat, and a plumbing system devoid of p-traps. What this basically means is that any gases running through the sewer system are free to rise in the path of least resistance, a.k.a. my bathroom. I am determined to be undeterred but will need to find a solution.





The afternoon was spent shopping at the silk market, which really is home to five floors of packed booths providing “knock-off” branded goods or if you are lucky “Saturday/Sunday” first quality production which makes its way to the grey-market. I was after a North Face down parka for the Everest climb in January. There were none to be found on display but “magically” when you ask they appear from the back.

Haggling is an art form in Asia. First, throw any Western considerations for fair pricing or honest emotion out the window. The initial price is easily four to five or even twenty times the market value. For perceived higher demand items the price tends towards the upper end. In my case the price started at approximately fifteen times market value at $600 USD. This would be a crazy price to pay, even at home. Now the game of chicken begins. Who will make the first move? After carefully inspecting every inch of the jacket, I state that I want to check all the booths then make a decision. Leaving the booth is your leverage because many vendors carry the same items. Also, my Uncle Don told me once, “Never negotiate for something you can’t walk away from or else you will pay too much.” Moving towards the booth entrance forces the vendor to make the first move and use the most overstated phrase in Chinese retail, “Because you are my friend, I have special price just for you.” This is usually one third off the list price. Some tourists will fall for this. If you don’t then the vendor will put the ball in your court and ask you what you will pay. Go ahead and be incredibly low if you don’t have a sense for the actual market value. In spite of any protests the vendor will not sell an item to you for a loss. Everything in between is pure retail bargaining smoke. Since a family friend Ken had purchased North Face parkas in the same location for $25 USD a piece I had a benchmark. This jacket was down so I explained this and moved the price up to $40. Vendor counter $60, reply $40. Vendor counter $50, reply $40. Vendor counter $40 (witnessed by my drive), reply acceptance. She packed up the coat and I gave her the $40 USD. Now begins the high stakes negotiations. You agreed to $50 USD she screamed over the shuffle of hundreds of people. Calmly, “No we agreed to $40 USD.” “No fifty”. Turning to the driver, “Did you not hear us agree to $40 dollars?” His head nods. “I’m sorry but we agreed to $40.” Still projecting, “No fifty.” Grabbing the forty dollars held loosely in her hands and handing the coat back, “Not a problem, I just buy it somewhere else.” (By this point I meant it.) Leaving and walking down the crowded aisle she came chasing after me, “Ok forty.” “Thank you.” Never get flustered or angry, even if the other party feigns offense. This is a documented natural part of tourist negotiations, ref. Lonely Planet China. In the end, everyone was happy.

After these efforts it was time for lunch and Peking duck. This was served with the equivalent of flour taco shells and plum sauce. Everything was delicious, even the delicacy of eating the muscle that operates the bill. When the driver balked at eating the brain I followed suite. That would have been a stretch, even for my adventurous palette.



My culinary openness was challenged while venturing out into the evening for a two-hour stretching of the legs. Right outside the doorstep of the hotel was a nighttime lighted food bazaar of extraordinary proportions and variety. There was everything from the tame octopus and squid to the more adventurous scorpions and various crustaceans on a stick. Everything can be readily grilled to your liking. No thanks… but I appreciate the offer, really.





As a change of scene I was off for the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square, but first there was the prostitute evasion game. There must have been a big red “X” on my forehead, being a lone male western traveler with a map. I was taken aback by the first offer and gently refused. As I continued down the busy “tourist shopping” street by the hotel it started to rain proposals. Confused by this attention I stepped aside to get my bearings on the map.



Yep, there were the upscale stores and McDonald’s right where they were supposed to be. What I came to find later was that the traditional tourist shopping areas are the prime pick-up locations and not the stereotypical imagined “dark passageways”. With my directions and an increased pace the more traditional nighttime sites were now a clear target.

November 24, 2006

Seoul (DMZ & Orphanage)

The DMZ is a Korean “must see”, simply for the historical significance and even more so for the current learning from the South Korean people. The South Koreans are still hopeful for eventual reconnection with relatives in the North. Hopes are put into objects like the reunification bell and bridge.







More tangibly and patiently the South Koreans provide aid in the form of food and economic assistance, trying to help their disjointed peoples to the North. This is inspite of persistent aggression and posturing from the dictatorial North Korean regime.





My biggest surprise was the fact that the North Korean’s had built seven known tunnels for a re-invasion of South Korea since the "Cease Fire". Each was found prior to completion through test drilling efforts of the South. Many of the tunnels, capable of moving over 30,000 troops per hour, were large enough to transport artillery pieces.

These tunnels are bold incursions under the demilitarized zone of the north, passing well into the southern DMZ. Assumptions are, that if successful, these human pipelines would have emerged beyond the Southern DMZ lines. When the North assessed that they had been discovered they quickly painted sections of the walls black and said that they were errant coal mining shafts. This is a geologic impossibility since the bedrock is solid granite. Once this logic flaw was realized by the North, the next explanation was equally brilliant. “We didn’t build them, the South did.” This obviously explains the non-existent entry points in the South. The South, under UN supervision to prove North Korea’s violation of the Cease Fire Agreement, drilled the only major entry point below the 38th Parallel.

The next tourist location within the DMZ is the observation platform, where both the Northern and Southern zones are clearly visible. We had a stellar day and could see for miles to the North.



The contrast between the two Korea’s is immediate. The most obvious feature is that the South is forested and practically every living thing has been cut down north of the DMZ for fuel. Less than a mile to the south of the watchtower hill is a brand new "state of the art" train station, waiting for the first cross border excursion.




Upon return to Seoul, I rode the subway for an hour to the north and then caught a train to find the new location of the orphanage. The Korean hospitality continued. One of the orphanage staff met me at the train station and drove me to the new location. The smaller original and relocated orphanage had burned in the late 1970’s leaving a still standing white shell next to the newer building.





The orphanage and 52 resident children are still very much supported through volunteers and donations by US Military personnel. The new director grew up in the original Paju location and made the transition to Seoul. I couldn’t take pictures of the children because it was after dark and the young ones were preparing for bed, while the older children were scattered in the yard. However, it was very reassuring to receive their cheerful sendoff when they realized I was leaving.

My key “take away” and lasting impression from Korea will be the warmth of her people. My new friends, the street food vendors, further demonstrated this. I loved being around this husband and wife team. They simply radiated comfort. Over the three evenings of eating at their stand we shared laughs and smiles. This evening the husband was graciously giving me new things to try. When he cut into the sausage, my stomach turned. I didn’t want to be impolite. So, I did what every good tourist should do and took a picture and tried it. The sausage was actually a casing filled with black translucent rice noodles and bits of mystery protein. It was surprisingly delicious. Everyone, including the bystanders were please with my positive response.





I picked up the pace a little on finishing my meal, as the animal organs steaming in the pot next to the sausages were nothing, even politely, that I wanted to try. In saying “good bye” the wife asked insistently a single word “Tomorrow?” This evoked the mime routine of “not tomorrow, I’m flying away.” After many handshakes, nods, and smiles I headed back to the hostel to pack for the morning flight.

November 23, 2006

Seoul to Paju

Since we are a day ahead here in Korea, I've already spent
Thanksgiving traveling north to Paju to try to find an orphanage my
Dad worked with in 1963.

Not being able to speak a word of Korean, I stepped off the train to a
platform in the middle of the country with no town in sight. All I
had was my computer with a picture of a certificate the Korean
government had given to Dad. It was time to start walking and finding
someone.

I rounded a bend in the road and came across a children's playground
of sorts. The people were gracious. With barely a common word
between us they got me pointed in the right direction and onto the
proper bus to take me to town. A young woman overheard a conversation
in Korean about me and literally took me under wing for about two
hours.

I'm fighting a cold today, so she unsolicidly took me to an apothocary
for a local cold cure which I drank after the insistant instruction of
"dinkah, dinkah". Then she brought me to the town's City Hall and
enlisted a crew of about five people to find the orphanage. While
they deciphered the certificate displayed on the laptop screen and
researched, others literally showered me with clementine oranges and
green tea.

No luck in Paju... It ends up that the orphanage was very small and
when the US Army Medical Batallion moved to Seoul, so did the
orphanage. So the staff at City Hall found the new location of the
orphanage, called to make introductions and even gave me directions.
(This was all conveyed through an interpreter.)

After making sure the interpreter relayed my thanks, my mystery friend
from the inbound bus led me to the proper bus stop for Seoul
passengers. When the bus arrived she instructed the driver. I got
on, paid, sat down, and looked out the window towards where she was
standing. I waved and as the bus pulled away she jogged along side
waving back. Such total grace from a complete stranger...



What a day for gratitude!
There is much for which to be thankful.

One the bus ride back to Seoul I looked at the mountains and struggled with emotion. Dad has been gone for about a year and a half, but to look at hills that he would have looked at every day while serving with the Army in Korea really made me want to pick up the phone and call him. He always said that the coldest experience of his life was winter in Korea. With the combination of humidity and late fall chill in the air my bones felt the fridged depth of his descriptions.



After returning to Seoul, I was motivated to walk along the river, inspite of my cold and the temperature. The result was a perfect night for capturing clear bridge pictures.