Quite a bit to catch up on, many miles put under my feet since the first post. Here's the basic travel history:- land in Beijing, China after a 13 hour flight from Chicago. Spend a few days milling around the city getting strange looks from people because of my beatiful blonde hair and blue eyes. Random people ask my brother and sister if they will pose for a picture with them, but for some reason yours truly is too dashingly attractive to be considered. This reoccurs multiple times a day during our stay in Beijing. Its so rediculous I decide to start taking pictures of other people for no reason just to return the favor.
Everything in China is dirt cheap. In Beijing my sister and I visited the Pearl Market. Delightfully surprising fact about the pearl market: most of what is on sale isn't pearls. Knock-offs of every brand, size, and shape in addition to cheap nik-nack goods can be found in this 7-story treasure trove. I spend most of my time bargaining with an electronics vendor over the price of an "ipod" and an MP3 usb key. Both of which were acquired for less than a quarter of what the equivalent would be in the states. I was a kid in a candy shop. I didn't even leave the first floor for most of our visit. When we finally did leave, we took a $2-$3 cab ride across town back to our hotel. The dollar-Yuan conversion made it feel like a game of monopoly where I was the banker and my opponents were all blind 5-year old deaf children (translation: dollars go a long way). Doing my part to boost their economy and enjoying every minute of it.
(ipod nanos? nah, their resemblance is accidental I'm sure)
(This energetic fellow's stand had quite the military gear selection. Night vision for around $100? The only catch is its hard to test it out)
- A few days later we fly from Beijing to Xian (pronounced shy-anne) to check out the Taracotta Soldiers. Apparently we had booked a tour guide along with our transportation who spoke english like a text-to-speech program on a computer. The soldiers were somewhat impressive, but I spent most of the time wishing I could jump over the rail and down into the pit and see how long it would take the guards to subdue me. That would have been a killer photo op for all those stupid tourists filming every minute of their investment. Truth: many people are so busy documenting their experiences that they don't actually have the experience at all.
(taracotta soldiers - don't let the zoom fool you, we were kept at a distance)
- With jet-lag in recession, the first real night out on the Chinese town becomes possible. Xian is alive with lots of hustle and bustle. We kick off the night at a recently-opened bar. I expected the chinese to have a hard time letting loose, but this night quickly dispelled that myth. After I get a couple Tsing-Tao's (the choice chinese beer) in me I proceed to bust a move with the hired dancers. Which brings me to the first of two lessons from the night: the universal language of dance brings people together like none other. The second lesson, which was a puzzle to me when my brother first said it is, "just go with it." These words of wisdom came out of his mouth after returning from a bathroom break. Intrigued by the smirk on his face, I decided before we left that I must investigate. All seems to be in order as I enter the bathroom: the place is extremely dirty and it smells like someone pissed on every possible exposed surface. There is an attendant standing near the sink, which is not unusual in a country where the employment motto seems to be, "why not hire two workers for a job that only needs one." He says hello and proceeds to escort me over to a urinal. A little weird, but hey, some guys are just enthusiastic about their job. I turn to the urinal and get ready to do my business. Mid-way through the unzip stage I notice he is still standing next to me. I think, "maybe if I ignore him he'll go away." Sure enough, after a few seconds he disappears out of my peripheral vision and I give the green light for my body to do its thing. Just when relief is on the way, I feel two hands on my shoulders. Is this dude gay? what the hell was he doing? Just me and this attendant in the bathroom, and he is giving me a shoulder massage while I'm hanging out. All became clear when the wise words of my brother echoed in my mind, "just go with it." A giddy smile covered my face. I did my best to play along and act like I enjoyed it. "Yep, thats great...yeah, right there, yep, I'm good," were the words I spoke only to keep from laughing out loud. Not a drop, but at least my shoulders felt great. Upon exiting the bathroom, I immediately caught the eyes of my brother, both of us grinning from having independently shared such a life changing experience.
(The speaker of wisdom with a pagoda in the background)
- From Xian, it was off to Shanghai. This city is populated by over 6 million people. The skyline goes on forever and the buildings are out of a science fiction film. One skyscraper is the equivalent of a computer monitor, one city block x one city block with video advertisements playing on it. Very impressive, but the city is a bit much to try and swallow in only a few days.
- The next leg is where I find myself now, Tokyo, Japan. The days of feeling like a king with the powerful dollar are over. Things are very clean and the city feels safe enough to walk around without wondering whether or not you should hide your wallet in your underwear. The four letter word of the day is fish. Everything edible contains fish. Fish when you wake up, fish when you go to bed, and fish cookies with fish broth when you wake up and need a midnight snack. Now I'm all about trying new things. Sushi, sashimi, caviar, eel, octopus, seaweed, or whatever is a great thing in moderation. But when things that shouldn't taste like fish have that fishy smell and slight fishy taste, I find myself yearning for a burger and fries. It gets you when you're not looking too. "oh, whats this? this looks like broiled chicken. Is that a cookie wafer over there? Finally, some familiar pumpkin soup." And then, BAM! A trojan horse attacks your mouth with a fury whose closest relative would be a spoon full of wasabi, but with more gag reflex and less crying. At least I can wash all those unenjoyable experieces down with a tall glass of Sapporo beer, which I may unfortunatly be conditioning myself to associate with fishiness.
I'll post some pictures with this entry after a while, but until then, I look the same, just a bit skinnier.
first steps remains copyright of the author jsharp, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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