Dandong, China
The boat ride went more civil than expected. In full view of authorities nobody dared to shout, I guess. Besides, there was enough coming and going on the North Korean side anyway. On the boat, they actually tried to rent out binoculars to tourists so they could get a closer look at the water front of the North Korean bank. At first, I've got to admit, I was tempted. I had to remind myself that despite all the secrecy and hush-hush politics those were also just people - not unlike the Chinese on this side of the river.
Later standing on the old Friendship Bridge (bombed to pieces by America) I witnessed again how developed the Chinese side was with its high rises and neon and modern apartment blocks, whereas on the North Korean side things seemed to look a bit flat and bleak, with only some rundown historic buildings. Dandong a sprawling modern metropolis and opposite it Sinuiju a small cluster of houses, prefab blocks and factories hardly a third Dandong's size. This difference between the two sides! "North Koreans are very poor", a guy I had met near Tiger Mountain had told me. To grasp the full impact of this statement took me a while - even many parts of China are not rich (on the contrary!). So, for Chinese pitying the North Koreans because of their poverty is significant. How much poorer than some parts of China could North Korea be?
Still, business seems good. A never-ending stream of trucks, vans, some minibuses and regular freight trains cross the Sino-Korean Friendship Bridge. More towards Korea than out of it, I notice. I remember hearing of Chinese aid going into North Korea.
And that's just on the books. I also witnessed a different kind of trade. First, I spotted a man fishing with his cormorant near the last pillar of the old bridge. He had been around for quite a while when a small rowing boat appeared from the opposite side and also headed towards the same pillar. Wow, I was going to get a closer look even without shouting and binoculars, so I stuck around. The fisherman waited. The two boats met right underneath my position in the shadow of the bridge. A sack and some other smaller items exchanged hands. Maybe, I thought naively, they were bringing the fisherman lunch, maybe he was Korean, as well. But then, why did the two North Koreans in the rowing boat look so shifty? The certain answer came when the fisherman made off towards the Chinese side of the river while the rowing boat returned to the North Korean side. I wonder what was in the sack. Some of the packets did look a lot like cigarettes. All this happens right under the eyes of border guards on both sides. Do they know? Do they care? What kind of "agreement" exists between guards and dealers?
In the end, I did get to have some contact with North Koreans: at the Pyongyang Restaurant. Limited as it was - they spoke very limited Chinese with the typical Korean accent I already knew from my class mates in Beijing. Just the order of dinner courses remained unclear. Cold noodles first, or last, and what about the meat...? Several of the girls took turns coming back asking if the cold noodles should be served soon (“冷面马上来吗？”). I said, yes, go ahead but as it turns out they were waiting for me to finish the meat. But they were really cute about it. Makes you wonder if they were hand-picked to represent their country. Another reason to be curious about their country. One day ...
Monday, 31 March 2008
Sunday, 30 March 2008
Border Thoughts
Dandong, China
Standing on the border to North Korea is more than a bit surreal. It's interesting to imagine that over there, beyond the Yalu River everything is different. Different language, different people, different society. It mystifies me. I want to know what goes on on the other side of the water. Why the mystic appeal, I wonder. I've seen and crossed many borders - why is this one special?
Maybe it's because this is the first border I've encountered that I can't just cross and even getting the limited permission available these days is said to be very difficult and not even guaranteed. In fact, North Korea is known to be a very reclusive, even secretive country and like with everything secretive we would like to know what it is all about.
So, I followed my urge to get a taste and headed straight for Yalu River after arriving here in Dandong. It was evening and Dandong, like most Chinese cities, was ablaze with neon lights. All the greater was the contrast when I reached the river that divides the two countries. I had been warned (by my guide book) but gazing across the water into almost complete blackness was still unsettling. On one side China with its noise and lights, on the other side the mysterious North Korea shrouded in silence and a darkness pierced only by very few pin points of light. Even the single bridge linking the two countries is only lit on the Chinese side (which, I observe, is longer than the Korean one).
Then, today, I got another glace from Tiger Mountain Great Wall, which is right next to the border. From the highest peak of Tiger Mountain I looked out across the border lands - by daylight now. There wasn't much: a fence, a few houses huddled together, a large field still barren at this time of the year and a loose chain of guard posts. Hardly a soul in sight, even with the binoculars put up for the tourists here. Of course, the warning goes: "you may not see the soldiers but they are there." Still, I got the same impression as last night. On the Chinese side there was lots of life with roads and farms and industry while "over there" there was mainly silence interrupted only by the chugging of a diesel engine somewhere between the houses. Here, where the two countries are at their closest they are separated only by a narrow stream. Sometimes it can't be more than a meter or two, which is also why this place is known as 一步跨 - One Step Across. Actually, some locals told me, some North Koreans do come to the border once in a while to chat - and to exchange goods. Probably this is why, some six months back, the fence was erected on the North Korean side of the stream. Despite the friendship between the two countries such interaction doesn't seem popular. Still, the footpath leading down to the stream seems well used nonetheless. I'm sure the risk is great but if there's a will there's a way.
It struck me as interesting that while people on the opposite side of the border people live in seclusion, people on this side Chinese and foreign tourists go for a walk trying to catch a glimpse of just that seclusion. This has an even more interesting effect on the Chinese locals. Besides selling various "North Korean" souvenirs they've also realised that people would like to have a look at the inhabitants of this mysterious country. Near 一步跨 they shout across the river in Korean: "hey friend, come over for a while." Maybe they hope this will increase their chance for a sale. I felt a bit like in a zoo where you try to lure animals out so people can see them. This time nobody answered the call. Spectators were disappointed. The lions were not coming out. Back in Dandong, they also offer boat tours on the river that take visitors as close as possible to the North Korean bank. Makes me wonder if they'll throw meat...
Come evening it turns out that the Friendship Bridge is not only lit on the Chinese side, there's also a light show and neon display. After observing South Koreans looking down a bit on the Chinese here it seems more like the Chinese are doing the looking down. "Nana, we get a light show."
I feel a mild regret now that I only now remembered the option to visit North Korea. It's way too late to get a visa - takes about a month (and isn't guaranteed). So, this time I can only satisfy my curiosity dining at a North Korean restaurant (aptly called "Pyongyang") and looking out across the waters. I'll have to cross that bridge another time.
Saturday, 29 March 2008
Gone Caving
Benxi, Liaoning, China
I came to this small town (by Chinese standards - the head count is about 500,000) called Benxi near Shenyang to see the famous 本溪水洞 - the Water Caves of Benxi. They're not easy to get to actually. This is really off the beaten track. The Lonely Planet hardly covers them at all but some Chinese friends had told me it was worth going. A local girl then helped me find the right bus, which then drove out of town and stopped somewhere along the highway to let me off. The driver pointed along a little road to the entrance of the caves. There was nohing around for miles. I sensed getting back would be interesting. There wasn't even a bus stop.
The caves themselves are impressive. World Heritage, I believe. Priced accordingly. They're lit up with colourful spot lights and many formations have fanciful names. Of course, it's a bit distracting when you tour this majestic beauty in a noisy, diesel-powered boat and the tour guide never stops talking into her megaphone. It seemed she hardly needed to stop and breathe. It's a bit like watching a movie with the commentary on. This does seem to be what Chinese travel groups expect, though. Funny that most people still don't seem to listen. Maybe I just picked the wrong boat...
Getting back to the town was a challenge, as expected. With no bus stop I wondered where would be the best place to stand. So, I just stood at the roadside and waited. Two girls walked up and waited a short distance down the road from me. They were also coming from the caves. This ought to be the right place. But my backpack was getting heavy. I was going on straight to Dandong, my next stop, from here, so I had brought everything. A bus came, stopped next to them. They got on. I grabbed my stuff, hustled and waved. The driver shook his head. They were full now. Damn! I waited again. This time a bit further up the road. Nothing. Buses that passed didn't stop or were full. I guess, that's the problem of buses waiting until they're full before they even leave the station: it's hard to get a seat if you want to get on along the way. And I had a train to catch in a few hours. I started worrying. How much would it cost to take a car? Especially, since I didn't have much leverage to bargain.
I was almost at the point where I didn't care anymore when a bus finally stopped. I was wedged into the back row with my backpack squeezed under the seat in front. Just enough space for one person. Thank God I'm slim! My trip is going on after all. Chinese techno music all the way. But I realised it's daunting to be stuck somewhere on your own. That's the disadvantage of traveling alone, I guess.
I came to this small town (by Chinese standards - the head count is about 500,000) called Benxi near Shenyang to see the famous 本溪水洞 - the Water Caves of Benxi. They're not easy to get to actually. This is really off the beaten track. The Lonely Planet hardly covers them at all but some Chinese friends had told me it was worth going. A local girl then helped me find the right bus, which then drove out of town and stopped somewhere along the highway to let me off. The driver pointed along a little road to the entrance of the caves. There was nohing around for miles. I sensed getting back would be interesting. There wasn't even a bus stop.
The caves themselves are impressive. World Heritage, I believe. Priced accordingly. They're lit up with colourful spot lights and many formations have fanciful names. Of course, it's a bit distracting when you tour this majestic beauty in a noisy, diesel-powered boat and the tour guide never stops talking into her megaphone. It seemed she hardly needed to stop and breathe. It's a bit like watching a movie with the commentary on. This does seem to be what Chinese travel groups expect, though. Funny that most people still don't seem to listen. Maybe I just picked the wrong boat...
Getting back to the town was a challenge, as expected. With no bus stop I wondered where would be the best place to stand. So, I just stood at the roadside and waited. Two girls walked up and waited a short distance down the road from me. They were also coming from the caves. This ought to be the right place. But my backpack was getting heavy. I was going on straight to Dandong, my next stop, from here, so I had brought everything. A bus came, stopped next to them. They got on. I grabbed my stuff, hustled and waved. The driver shook his head. They were full now. Damn! I waited again. This time a bit further up the road. Nothing. Buses that passed didn't stop or were full. I guess, that's the problem of buses waiting until they're full before they even leave the station: it's hard to get a seat if you want to get on along the way. And I had a train to catch in a few hours. I started worrying. How much would it cost to take a car? Especially, since I didn't have much leverage to bargain.
I was almost at the point where I didn't care anymore when a bus finally stopped. I was wedged into the back row with my backpack squeezed under the seat in front. Just enough space for one person. Thank God I'm slim! My trip is going on after all. Chinese techno music all the way. But I realised it's daunting to be stuck somewhere on your own. That's the disadvantage of traveling alone, I guess.
Friday, 28 March 2008
Before they became famous ...
Shenyang, China
The Lonely Planet can be a good book. The maps inside can be useful. Note the emphasis. The problem is that only those streets they think are important are labelled. All others remain nameless left and right turns. Arriving this morning in Shenyang, the huge economical and industrial hub of the country's northeast, I realised another limitation. The scale. Not easy to get that right. Plus: In a city like this, insignificant little streets with less than four lanes are completely omitted from the map.
The hotel I was looking for seemed easy enough to find. Turn right from the train station, turn left, straight, left again. Can't miss it. From the scale shouldn't be more than 2 km. Even with my huge backpack that managable... Took me more than a bloody hour to find the damn place. And that only after asking various policemen and shop keepers. They must have thought I was mad carrying all that. I wanted to tear the damn page out and eat it! My back is still killing me...
Many people were also amazed I wanted to go to Shenyang at all. "There's nothing there", Chinese friends would say. And it's true, in terms of tourism the city doesn't have that much to offer. It's a huge industrial and commercial sprawl that still struggles a bit with public transport (hopefully they will soon build a subway system). So, I'm only spending a single day here. It's the home town of an old friend and I really wanted to see where she's from. But Shenyang is also the old capital of the Manchu kingdom before they went to Beijing and became famous as China's last imperial dynasty.
Still, it's by no means backwater China. The city feels vibrant, young and dynamic. There's a big university, loads of restaurants and a large pedestrian mall where the younger generation of students hang out in the evening. I'm regretting a bit that I'm already leaving tomorrow. On a Saturday. It's just a shame that there's no hostel here where I might meet someone to go check out the nightlife with. At a hotel, in a single room you're always on your own. No matter how many KTVs there are, they're no fun alone.
The Lonely Planet can be a good book. The maps inside can be useful. Note the emphasis. The problem is that only those streets they think are important are labelled. All others remain nameless left and right turns. Arriving this morning in Shenyang, the huge economical and industrial hub of the country's northeast, I realised another limitation. The scale. Not easy to get that right. Plus: In a city like this, insignificant little streets with less than four lanes are completely omitted from the map.
The hotel I was looking for seemed easy enough to find. Turn right from the train station, turn left, straight, left again. Can't miss it. From the scale shouldn't be more than 2 km. Even with my huge backpack that managable... Took me more than a bloody hour to find the damn place. And that only after asking various policemen and shop keepers. They must have thought I was mad carrying all that. I wanted to tear the damn page out and eat it! My back is still killing me...
Many people were also amazed I wanted to go to Shenyang at all. "There's nothing there", Chinese friends would say. And it's true, in terms of tourism the city doesn't have that much to offer. It's a huge industrial and commercial sprawl that still struggles a bit with public transport (hopefully they will soon build a subway system). So, I'm only spending a single day here. It's the home town of an old friend and I really wanted to see where she's from. But Shenyang is also the old capital of the Manchu kingdom before they went to Beijing and became famous as China's last imperial dynasty.
Still, it's by no means backwater China. The city feels vibrant, young and dynamic. There's a big university, loads of restaurants and a large pedestrian mall where the younger generation of students hang out in the evening. I'm regretting a bit that I'm already leaving tomorrow. On a Saturday. It's just a shame that there's no hostel here where I might meet someone to go check out the nightlife with. At a hotel, in a single room you're always on your own. No matter how many KTVs there are, they're no fun alone.
The Brand New Ancient Town
Shanhaiguan, China
"Our crystal ball was obscured by construction dust", the Lonely Planet had said about this town in northeastern China. That was in the 2006 edition. I thought one or two years later it should be okay. Especially in China. Well, pull the other one. It's as busy as ever in the city where the Manchu, and thus the Qing dynasty, first entered the Middle Kingdom. The old old town is being torn down, demolished almost entirely along its north-south and east-west main roads. For what? To make way for the new old town. Maybe the mixture of 20th century socialist housing and historic Qing dynasty buildings wasn't considered attractive enough to tourists. I guess, little lanes with slightly ancient-looking houses and Maoist graffiti are only interesting to foreigners. So, now it's looking a lot like the town of Shanhaiguan is spending a whole lot of money to get their old town right. Large Qing-dynasty-style shop houses are being erected along the two main roads hiding all the old living quarters from view. Most are almost finished, only the roads haven't been paved yet. It looks like a film set during pre-production. It's obvious that all these elaborate fakes are to contain souvenir shops and large scale restaurants and hotels - possibly completely overpriced to earn construction costs back. But even historic palaces and temples are being rebuilt - also from scratch, as it seems. Whether these will later house anything authentic or historic or just mundane souvenir outlets is as yet unclear. The whole place is already beginning to look a bit like an ancient China style theme park. But one thing certainly is clear: It's a massive project. To build an entire town. Even the city wall is being renovated. They are, it seems, setting up the perfect tourist trap. And it's all supposed to be finished before start of the olympic games. Will they make it? People's opinions diverge on this one. My hotel owner, at least, is sceptical. "They will [finish on time]", he says, "but they will loose money because people won't come." I wonder if city administration have thought of that. Can you engineer a perfect tourist attraction? Next year we'll have the answer.
"Our crystal ball was obscured by construction dust", the Lonely Planet had said about this town in northeastern China. That was in the 2006 edition. I thought one or two years later it should be okay. Especially in China. Well, pull the other one. It's as busy as ever in the city where the Manchu, and thus the Qing dynasty, first entered the Middle Kingdom. The old old town is being torn down, demolished almost entirely along its north-south and east-west main roads. For what? To make way for the new old town. Maybe the mixture of 20th century socialist housing and historic Qing dynasty buildings wasn't considered attractive enough to tourists. I guess, little lanes with slightly ancient-looking houses and Maoist graffiti are only interesting to foreigners. So, now it's looking a lot like the town of Shanhaiguan is spending a whole lot of money to get their old town right. Large Qing-dynasty-style shop houses are being erected along the two main roads hiding all the old living quarters from view. Most are almost finished, only the roads haven't been paved yet. It looks like a film set during pre-production. It's obvious that all these elaborate fakes are to contain souvenir shops and large scale restaurants and hotels - possibly completely overpriced to earn construction costs back. But even historic palaces and temples are being rebuilt - also from scratch, as it seems. Whether these will later house anything authentic or historic or just mundane souvenir outlets is as yet unclear. The whole place is already beginning to look a bit like an ancient China style theme park. But one thing certainly is clear: It's a massive project. To build an entire town. Even the city wall is being renovated. They are, it seems, setting up the perfect tourist trap. And it's all supposed to be finished before start of the olympic games. Will they make it? People's opinions diverge on this one. My hotel owner, at least, is sceptical. "They will [finish on time]", he says, "but they will loose money because people won't come." I wonder if city administration have thought of that. Can you engineer a perfect tourist attraction? Next year we'll have the answer.
Thursday, 27 March 2008
Requiem for a Crook
Beijing, China
This is actually about my landlord and a bit of a sad story. I wonder if this is typical of Chinese landlords or landlords in general. It went like this:
Before meeting him he was described as a true Beijinger. I still wonder if that was referring to his character or just his very thick Beijing accent. I was also told (related to the first remark or not) that he may seem a bit rough on the outside but was a good enough person.
When I first arrived I understood nothing of what he said both because of the accent and my extremely limited vocabulary. He seemed ok with my flat mates. When one of them moved out he was very flexible - along the lines of "if you need to stay don't worry".
Only when my Chinese became good enough to handle things myself did I begin to realise it wasn't all like this. Getting his contribution of RMB50 to our first big water payment (something he had collected from a previous tenant) required all three of us talking to him.
Then began the time when I met him by myself. I started realising that he was actually treating me like an idiot repeating things over unnecessarily. He didn't seem to grasp the difference of not understanding because of a language barrier and (as he thought) failing to understand his meaning. He also turned out to be quite pushy. Matters were always urgent. If we had arranged a meeting he would call the day before to remind me and on the day 5 to 15 minutes before the meeting to tell me he was already waiting and why wasn't I there yet. Annoyed I would in turn remind him of the time remaining to the agreed meeting and only meet him at that time.
I also began to see that if he could not reach one person he would call everybody else in the flat and rush them around in his search. On the other hand when there was something urgent for us we had to follow his rigourous schedule of work.
The best thing was, however, yet to come when I moved out this Tuesday. I had paid up to and including the 25th. I was hoping to stay that night and then catch my train early the next morning. I had received most of my deposit back - RMB900 out of RMB1000. Then there was viewing on that afternoon and I gave him the key and went to my last class telling him I still needed to sort out some things later. After class I was chatting to some friends when he called asking why there was still stuff in my place and I needed to move out immediately because somebody was coming to live. I was surprised and replied that I had paid for today. No, I was to move right now (it was 8 in the evening). He even seemed to say something about helping me move my things. At that I told him not to touch my belongings. I rushed back angry at the interruption to my good-byes and confronted him. Why was it so urgent now? I insisted that I had paid for today and the room should be mine until mid-night at least. No, he insisted, I was wrong. When he started listing some reasons, just excuses I believe, I even slapped his counting hand away and told him to get going and open the flat for me. At least, I needed some time to finish my packing. Then half an hour later he called again and I told him I would let him know when I was done. A short while later he even turned up unannounced with another guy who was to help him clean the room. I told them to wait outside. He now proceeded to argue with the other two tenants. There was a leaking tap in the bathroom and he told them it was our responsibility to get it fixed. I ended up shouting at him that it was his problem - that's how it was all over the world. No, I was wrong, but I didn't listen to his reasons. I was too furious. In the end everything was done and I moved my backpack outside. He came to say good-bye and welcome to come to China again and we were still friends. Yes, yes, bla, bla. I said good-bye to my flatmates and only then remembered the outstanding RMB100. I told him. No, there was no outstanding debt. I had stayed five more days and there was also something about an electricity bill I should have payed at the beginning. I was shocked. No, there wasn't any such thing - we had calculated this through! He insisted and called one of the flatmates to translate to me what I had already understood. He wouldn't cheat me for RMB100, would he? Bullshit! I told him again, irate now. Fine! He was also angry now, pulled out a bunch of notes and pressed a RMB100 note into my hand. He would show me that he wouldn't argue about such a minor matter. Pah! My major had after all been mathematics. Then I seemed to have not studied well. We were not friends after all, then. That made me laugh. At least, I had the satisfaction of having won this final battle, even though things had got a little ugly. Still, without knowing he had given me the reason to shout at him I had waited for for so long. Friends? With him? I still have to laugh at the idea.
This is actually about my landlord and a bit of a sad story. I wonder if this is typical of Chinese landlords or landlords in general. It went like this:
Before meeting him he was described as a true Beijinger. I still wonder if that was referring to his character or just his very thick Beijing accent. I was also told (related to the first remark or not) that he may seem a bit rough on the outside but was a good enough person.
When I first arrived I understood nothing of what he said both because of the accent and my extremely limited vocabulary. He seemed ok with my flat mates. When one of them moved out he was very flexible - along the lines of "if you need to stay don't worry".
Only when my Chinese became good enough to handle things myself did I begin to realise it wasn't all like this. Getting his contribution of RMB50 to our first big water payment (something he had collected from a previous tenant) required all three of us talking to him.
Then began the time when I met him by myself. I started realising that he was actually treating me like an idiot repeating things over unnecessarily. He didn't seem to grasp the difference of not understanding because of a language barrier and (as he thought) failing to understand his meaning. He also turned out to be quite pushy. Matters were always urgent. If we had arranged a meeting he would call the day before to remind me and on the day 5 to 15 minutes before the meeting to tell me he was already waiting and why wasn't I there yet. Annoyed I would in turn remind him of the time remaining to the agreed meeting and only meet him at that time.
I also began to see that if he could not reach one person he would call everybody else in the flat and rush them around in his search. On the other hand when there was something urgent for us we had to follow his rigourous schedule of work.
The best thing was, however, yet to come when I moved out this Tuesday. I had paid up to and including the 25th. I was hoping to stay that night and then catch my train early the next morning. I had received most of my deposit back - RMB900 out of RMB1000. Then there was viewing on that afternoon and I gave him the key and went to my last class telling him I still needed to sort out some things later. After class I was chatting to some friends when he called asking why there was still stuff in my place and I needed to move out immediately because somebody was coming to live. I was surprised and replied that I had paid for today. No, I was to move right now (it was 8 in the evening). He even seemed to say something about helping me move my things. At that I told him not to touch my belongings. I rushed back angry at the interruption to my good-byes and confronted him. Why was it so urgent now? I insisted that I had paid for today and the room should be mine until mid-night at least. No, he insisted, I was wrong. When he started listing some reasons, just excuses I believe, I even slapped his counting hand away and told him to get going and open the flat for me. At least, I needed some time to finish my packing. Then half an hour later he called again and I told him I would let him know when I was done. A short while later he even turned up unannounced with another guy who was to help him clean the room. I told them to wait outside. He now proceeded to argue with the other two tenants. There was a leaking tap in the bathroom and he told them it was our responsibility to get it fixed. I ended up shouting at him that it was his problem - that's how it was all over the world. No, I was wrong, but I didn't listen to his reasons. I was too furious. In the end everything was done and I moved my backpack outside. He came to say good-bye and welcome to come to China again and we were still friends. Yes, yes, bla, bla. I said good-bye to my flatmates and only then remembered the outstanding RMB100. I told him. No, there was no outstanding debt. I had stayed five more days and there was also something about an electricity bill I should have payed at the beginning. I was shocked. No, there wasn't any such thing - we had calculated this through! He insisted and called one of the flatmates to translate to me what I had already understood. He wouldn't cheat me for RMB100, would he? Bullshit! I told him again, irate now. Fine! He was also angry now, pulled out a bunch of notes and pressed a RMB100 note into my hand. He would show me that he wouldn't argue about such a minor matter. Pah! My major had after all been mathematics. Then I seemed to have not studied well. We were not friends after all, then. That made me laugh. At least, I had the satisfaction of having won this final battle, even though things had got a little ugly. Still, without knowing he had given me the reason to shout at him I had waited for for so long. Friends? With him? I still have to laugh at the idea.
Wednesday, 26 March 2008
On the road again ...
Beijing，China
This is my last day in Beijing. My last evening as a resident of Wudaokou.
After being virtually kicked out by my landlord (see above), I've packed all my belongings into my big backpack again. Once again, I carry everything I possess on me. Nothing holds me back anymore as I hit the road once more.
The only difference is that this time there is no fixed schedule. Total freedom and at the same time totally on my own. If you plan everything in advance you may be tied down but it gives you a feeling of security, as well. It's actually a bit scary to think that for the next half year I will not have a home and friends will be whoever I meet on the way. "Where I lay my head is home."
At the same time it's also much more exciting than before. There's only my rough itinerary and schedule. The details I fill in as I go. As I leave my flat, my life, the remainder of my unwanted things behind my heart actually beats a bit faster. With every step I write my own history. This is what travelling is all about, what sets it apart from mere tourism. And as I go it's the old song by Chris Rea that rings in my ears:
"On the hard fast train
On the road to gain
[...]
There's only one place left to go
Auberge"
This is my last day in Beijing. My last evening as a resident of Wudaokou.
After being virtually kicked out by my landlord (see above), I've packed all my belongings into my big backpack again. Once again, I carry everything I possess on me. Nothing holds me back anymore as I hit the road once more.
The only difference is that this time there is no fixed schedule. Total freedom and at the same time totally on my own. If you plan everything in advance you may be tied down but it gives you a feeling of security, as well. It's actually a bit scary to think that for the next half year I will not have a home and friends will be whoever I meet on the way. "Where I lay my head is home."
At the same time it's also much more exciting than before. There's only my rough itinerary and schedule. The details I fill in as I go. As I leave my flat, my life, the remainder of my unwanted things behind my heart actually beats a bit faster. With every step I write my own history. This is what travelling is all about, what sets it apart from mere tourism. And as I go it's the old song by Chris Rea that rings in my ears:
"On the hard fast train
On the road to gain
[...]
There's only one place left to go
Auberge"
Tuesday, 25 March 2008
Too Damn Honest
Shanhaiguan, China
There was a slight mix-up with tickets today. Well, technically it wasn't so much a mix-up of tickets as of places. I blame the Lonely Planet but it does make clear the importance of checking the map of where you're going. I was going to Shanhaiguan. In the book the description of how to get there is in the same section as the one to Beidaihe, a different town in the area. So, I assumed they must be near each other. Both could also easily be reached from a hub called Qinhuangdao but it sounded like the bus first stopped in Beidaihe and then in Shanhaiguan. Since Shanhaiguan is not often serviced by trains from Beijing I just bought a ticket to Beidaihe and planned to take a bus from there.
The revelation came on the train while talking to another passenger. He was confused that I was going to Beidaihe. I told him: to take the bus to Shanhaiguan. He asked me why I didn't go straight to Qinhuangdao and take the bus there. Because Beidaihe is closer, no? No, it isn't. In the end he showed me on my own map. He was right, of course. Curses. Never mind, he said, just stay on the train. It would stop in Qinhuangdao next. Then how about my ticket? In China they check tickets at every station when you go out. Don't worry, he told me, you're a foreigner. When they stop you just pretend you don't speak Chinese and they will give up and let you go (we were having the conversation in Chinese). He laughed. That's China.
When we reached Qinhuangdao I did what he had told me. Of course, they stopped me. I tried to stare blankly. And just when they were about to wave me through, just as the man had said, I couldn't stop myself and asked them what was wrong. Then, of course, I got politely shown to their little office where I had to explain my mistake and pay 35 RMB for a ticket from Beidaihe to there.
Sometimes I do hate my honest self.
There was a slight mix-up with tickets today. Well, technically it wasn't so much a mix-up of tickets as of places. I blame the Lonely Planet but it does make clear the importance of checking the map of where you're going. I was going to Shanhaiguan. In the book the description of how to get there is in the same section as the one to Beidaihe, a different town in the area. So, I assumed they must be near each other. Both could also easily be reached from a hub called Qinhuangdao but it sounded like the bus first stopped in Beidaihe and then in Shanhaiguan. Since Shanhaiguan is not often serviced by trains from Beijing I just bought a ticket to Beidaihe and planned to take a bus from there.
The revelation came on the train while talking to another passenger. He was confused that I was going to Beidaihe. I told him: to take the bus to Shanhaiguan. He asked me why I didn't go straight to Qinhuangdao and take the bus there. Because Beidaihe is closer, no? No, it isn't. In the end he showed me on my own map. He was right, of course. Curses. Never mind, he said, just stay on the train. It would stop in Qinhuangdao next. Then how about my ticket? In China they check tickets at every station when you go out. Don't worry, he told me, you're a foreigner. When they stop you just pretend you don't speak Chinese and they will give up and let you go (we were having the conversation in Chinese). He laughed. That's China.
When we reached Qinhuangdao I did what he had told me. Of course, they stopped me. I tried to stare blankly. And just when they were about to wave me through, just as the man had said, I couldn't stop myself and asked them what was wrong. Then, of course, I got politely shown to their little office where I had to explain my mistake and pay 35 RMB for a ticket from Beidaihe to there.
Sometimes I do hate my honest self.
The Golden Nail
I've finally done it: My blog is now finally up to date. After posting lots of newer stuff ahead of old stuff and lots of back dating all past entries into my book have now been transcribed.
Hallelujah!
It feels a bit like the Golden Nail Celebration!
Hallelujah!
It feels a bit like the Golden Nail Celebration!
My school - a review
Beijing, China
So, what have I been doing all this time - except for the occasional field trip? 当然学汉语吧 - learning Chinese, of course. Came a long way to do it, too. So, essentially I spent most afternoons (except weekends) at a small language school in Beijing's Haidian District called 地球村学校 or Global Village Language School.
And what's it like? Well, it's been essentially like going back to school. Only that this time I chose to; and I could choose my classes. Classes are generally fairly small with an average of six or seven students (although popular ones have way more than that). Lessons go by text book spending one lesson going over new words for that chapter of the book and a second lesson reading and understanding dialogues and excercises. Lessons are taught entirely in Chinese (I believe most of the teachers speak only little English or Korean). Even though this is a bit daunting at first you get used to it quicker than you think. The teachers I had spoke a very clear standard Chinese. I also believe the school doesn't really encourage the use of other languages so as to make the lessons fair for all students. Often the teachers also encourage having a subject related chat (in Chinese, of course), which can be very interesting depending a bit on your class. In our classes the atmosphere was very relaxed - in a way most students were adults (or close to it), so we could have quite interesting conversations. Then you can still go home and do some homework.
Now, how was the school? I'll answer this by category:
Firstly, some bad news. As you can already see from the website, the school is mainly aimed at Korean students. Information in English is extremely limited. Schedules are only in Chinese (if I could read that I wouldn't be here!). Office staff also don't speak English, so, signing up for my first lesson was an adventure - and I could already speak a bit. Later me and a classmate helped a Western girl, who was completely lost. English might help to broaden their customer base.
Now, there's a small cafeteria with hot and cold food which caters mainly for Korean tastes (if you like it) and is a bit pricy for what they offer (I can reheat food at home, right?).
The study room can be quite crowded - especially before HSK exams, at which time the pressure seems tangible in the air.
Their computer room is functional at best - the machines are old and overloaded with viruses. It hurts any IT guy's heart to see this kind of neglected infrastructure!
Now for the brighter side:
The tuition fees have just gone up - by a whooping 25%! Still, Global Village works out much cheaper than attending a course at university.
And more flexible: you can choose from a range of classes of different levels, classes of the same level are often offered at several times during the day, so you can choose a convenient time. Also, new courses begin every month, so you don't need to arrive at the start of term. If a level or time doesn't suit you just wait for a week or two and see what new classes are put on.
I've saved the best for last, of course: that's the teaching. It out-weighs all possible disadvantages. The teaching I've experienced was simply excellent. Teachers are enthusiastic, well prepared, know their stuff, are patient and thorough making sure every student understands the lesson.
So, my overall impression is that, although there may be some disadvantages to the school, it was well worth every yuan I paid.
So, now that my time here has come to an end, all that is left now is to thank my teachers Ms Peng, Ms Meng and Ms Wu. Special thanks go Ms Peng for being the most beautiful, cutest but also funniest teacher ever. Ms Meng on the other hand really challenged my listening comprehension speaking quite fast but in doing so helped me improve a lot and her lessons always keep you on your toes. They were all amazing at their job. I wish I had had teachers like them back in the days when I had to go to school! It was a joy going to class every day. I hope to be back in Beijing soon and continue my lessons with them. Thanks to them, I'll miss going to school for the first time.
非常感谢你们！我一定会想你们！
So, what have I been doing all this time - except for the occasional field trip? 当然学汉语吧 - learning Chinese, of course. Came a long way to do it, too. So, essentially I spent most afternoons (except weekends) at a small language school in Beijing's Haidian District called 地球村学校 or Global Village Language School.
And what's it like? Well, it's been essentially like going back to school. Only that this time I chose to; and I could choose my classes. Classes are generally fairly small with an average of six or seven students (although popular ones have way more than that). Lessons go by text book spending one lesson going over new words for that chapter of the book and a second lesson reading and understanding dialogues and excercises. Lessons are taught entirely in Chinese (I believe most of the teachers speak only little English or Korean). Even though this is a bit daunting at first you get used to it quicker than you think. The teachers I had spoke a very clear standard Chinese. I also believe the school doesn't really encourage the use of other languages so as to make the lessons fair for all students. Often the teachers also encourage having a subject related chat (in Chinese, of course), which can be very interesting depending a bit on your class. In our classes the atmosphere was very relaxed - in a way most students were adults (or close to it), so we could have quite interesting conversations. Then you can still go home and do some homework.
Now, how was the school? I'll answer this by category:
Firstly, some bad news. As you can already see from the website, the school is mainly aimed at Korean students. Information in English is extremely limited. Schedules are only in Chinese (if I could read that I wouldn't be here!). Office staff also don't speak English, so, signing up for my first lesson was an adventure - and I could already speak a bit. Later me and a classmate helped a Western girl, who was completely lost. English might help to broaden their customer base.
Now, there's a small cafeteria with hot and cold food which caters mainly for Korean tastes (if you like it) and is a bit pricy for what they offer (I can reheat food at home, right?).
The study room can be quite crowded - especially before HSK exams, at which time the pressure seems tangible in the air.
Their computer room is functional at best - the machines are old and overloaded with viruses. It hurts any IT guy's heart to see this kind of neglected infrastructure!
Now for the brighter side:
The tuition fees have just gone up - by a whooping 25%! Still, Global Village works out much cheaper than attending a course at university.
And more flexible: you can choose from a range of classes of different levels, classes of the same level are often offered at several times during the day, so you can choose a convenient time. Also, new courses begin every month, so you don't need to arrive at the start of term. If a level or time doesn't suit you just wait for a week or two and see what new classes are put on.
I've saved the best for last, of course: that's the teaching. It out-weighs all possible disadvantages. The teaching I've experienced was simply excellent. Teachers are enthusiastic, well prepared, know their stuff, are patient and thorough making sure every student understands the lesson.
So, my overall impression is that, although there may be some disadvantages to the school, it was well worth every yuan I paid.
So, now that my time here has come to an end, all that is left now is to thank my teachers Ms Peng, Ms Meng and Ms Wu. Special thanks go Ms Peng for being the most beautiful, cutest but also funniest teacher ever. Ms Meng on the other hand really challenged my listening comprehension speaking quite fast but in doing so helped me improve a lot and her lessons always keep you on your toes. They were all amazing at their job. I wish I had had teachers like them back in the days when I had to go to school! It was a joy going to class every day. I hope to be back in Beijing soon and continue my lessons with them. Thanks to them, I'll miss going to school for the first time.
非常感谢你们！我一定会想你们！
Thursday, 20 March 2008
Do strange people attract more strange people?
Beijing, China
A guy bumped into me in the restaurant today while I was having dinner with a friend. As I turned to face him a tall, lanky young Chinese man bent down to my sitting level. His clothing looked old, a bit worn maybe, together with his hair shaved at the neck but longer at the top it gave him the appearance of a punk. Not entirely pleasant, especially because when he started talking to me it became obvious that a) he might be drunk or stoned and b) a lot of his teeth were missing. I'm used to random people here trying to talk to me because I'm a foreigner, so I indulged him.
"You're a foreigner", he said in quite good English. "Yes", I answered patiently.
"Deutsch", he shot at me. That had me impressed. Few people ever mention Germany when they try to guess my nationality.
"You are from Munchen", he continued. No. "Frankfurt?" No. "Bonn." Yes, more impressed this time. That was another first. Few people here even know Bonn exists. "When Germany was apart Bonn was the Western capital", he proceeded to explain.
"I know one German rock band", he then announced. This time I actually played along, interested now. "Which one?" "Rammstein." He rolled the r like a Prussian. Wow! He knew even them. He went on to name several of their songs. His German pronunciation was quite good, too.
Then he turned to my friend. "Are you Chinese", he asked in Chinese. She gave me an exasperated look. That happens a lot - she is from Chinese background but not nationality. Hardly anyone gets her nationality right. She shook her head. "Japanese", he continued in English again. No. "Korean?" Those are the usual guesses. Then he changed course: "Malaysian?" No. But now I was curious, so I encouraged him to try again. "Indonesia?" Correct.
"Then you're catholic", he shot at her, "praise God." That was yet another surprise: very few people know that the Chinese minority in Indonesia is largely catholic.
Shortly afterwards he excused himself. "Auf Wiedersehen", he said, again in quite clear German, gave us another toothless smile and left. My friend relaxed.
At first, I didn't think much of it but then she said to me: "That was scary. How could he just guess all these things?" That had me thinking. For the rundown punk he appeared to be his education seemed very good. He spoke quite good English and some German. He knew about a lot of unusual random facts. Also, he seemed incredibly good at guessing things about us. It reminded of things, stories about psychics who just by a look or a touch will know things about you, receive a short insight into your mind. Now, this guy could just have been some crazy punk, alcoholic, homeless; and surely in the 1.5 billion people here there has to be someone who likes Rammstein and is able to guess my nationality. But right there, right then? A less than usual nationality correct at the first try, an unusual, hardly known hometown correct after only two wrong attempts, a band that happens to be my favourite. And the facts about my friend, as well. Thinking about it now it feels not so much as if he was guessing but rather working his way to the truth. Believe in it or not but that conversation now seems very surreal. Even among other strange encounters this one was certainly unique. Just think, what if ...
A guy bumped into me in the restaurant today while I was having dinner with a friend. As I turned to face him a tall, lanky young Chinese man bent down to my sitting level. His clothing looked old, a bit worn maybe, together with his hair shaved at the neck but longer at the top it gave him the appearance of a punk. Not entirely pleasant, especially because when he started talking to me it became obvious that a) he might be drunk or stoned and b) a lot of his teeth were missing. I'm used to random people here trying to talk to me because I'm a foreigner, so I indulged him.
"You're a foreigner", he said in quite good English. "Yes", I answered patiently.
"Deutsch", he shot at me. That had me impressed. Few people ever mention Germany when they try to guess my nationality.
"You are from Munchen", he continued. No. "Frankfurt?" No. "Bonn." Yes, more impressed this time. That was another first. Few people here even know Bonn exists. "When Germany was apart Bonn was the Western capital", he proceeded to explain.
"I know one German rock band", he then announced. This time I actually played along, interested now. "Which one?" "Rammstein." He rolled the r like a Prussian. Wow! He knew even them. He went on to name several of their songs. His German pronunciation was quite good, too.
Then he turned to my friend. "Are you Chinese", he asked in Chinese. She gave me an exasperated look. That happens a lot - she is from Chinese background but not nationality. Hardly anyone gets her nationality right. She shook her head. "Japanese", he continued in English again. No. "Korean?" Those are the usual guesses. Then he changed course: "Malaysian?" No. But now I was curious, so I encouraged him to try again. "Indonesia?" Correct.
"Then you're catholic", he shot at her, "praise God." That was yet another surprise: very few people know that the Chinese minority in Indonesia is largely catholic.
Shortly afterwards he excused himself. "Auf Wiedersehen", he said, again in quite clear German, gave us another toothless smile and left. My friend relaxed.
At first, I didn't think much of it but then she said to me: "That was scary. How could he just guess all these things?" That had me thinking. For the rundown punk he appeared to be his education seemed very good. He spoke quite good English and some German. He knew about a lot of unusual random facts. Also, he seemed incredibly good at guessing things about us. It reminded of things, stories about psychics who just by a look or a touch will know things about you, receive a short insight into your mind. Now, this guy could just have been some crazy punk, alcoholic, homeless; and surely in the 1.5 billion people here there has to be someone who likes Rammstein and is able to guess my nationality. But right there, right then? A less than usual nationality correct at the first try, an unusual, hardly known hometown correct after only two wrong attempts, a band that happens to be my favourite. And the facts about my friend, as well. Thinking about it now it feels not so much as if he was guessing but rather working his way to the truth. Believe in it or not but that conversation now seems very surreal. Even among other strange encounters this one was certainly unique. Just think, what if ...
Monday, 10 March 2008
Servant of the Dynasty
Beijing, China
I've finally got a Chinese name. After countless people have asked for it and subsequently memorised my German one I've finally done it. And I'm actually really happy about it.
With pride I'd like to introduce...
魏天拜
Why this name?
Well, the surname 魏 (Wei) sounds a bit like my German surname. Secondly I like the sound of it. Finally, it has history - like most surnames in China. During the period of the Warring States when seven warlords battled to reunite China one of the kingdoms was the Kingdom of Wei. Later during the period known as Three Kingdoms around 220 AD China again broke into three pieces; one of them was again called the Kingdom of Wei (established by famed general Cao Cao, later ruled by Sima Yi and his descendants).
The given name 天拜 (Tianbai) was actually generated by an online name generator. Now, before you roll your eyes hear me out. The generator picks characters based on the pronunciation of your surname and given name. You can also specify a topic you want your name to be based on (like "intelligence" or "strength", etc.). Now, as it happens 天 (tian) is heaven or sky, 拜 (bai) can be obedience. So, together we loosely have "Obedient to Heaven" or maybe "Servant of Heaven". Tobias on the other hand comes from Hebrew and means "God is good". A good match, isn't it?
Together I also like the sound of the name. So, there it is and let it be known in all corners of the empire!
Thursday, 6 March 2008
Table manners - It's the little differences
After watching a Chinese TV show where a few boys tried to compete with each other who best knew Western table manners I realised that technically in the West things are awefully complicated when it comes to eating. There are rules about which set of cutlery to use for which dish, exactly how to hold the cutlery, where to put the napkin, etc. This even differs between different Western countries (e.g. in Italy you can tug the napkin in your collar but in Germany that's a no-no).
In China, on the other hand, all this is more relaxed and I got the impression the focus is more on the eating and enjoying the food rather than how you go about this. It seems in more up-market restaurants it's perfectly OK to spit (or at least deposit) the bones on the table, to burp (or at least belch) contently when you've finished eating or slurp your soup directly from the bowl. You're allowed to bend over the table and bring your face level with your food for convenience. So, the result of this is that when I come home from Asia my family note that I have picked up a multitude of bad habits. But as for me, I feel a lot more at home and relaxed going out for food here.
In China, on the other hand, all this is more relaxed and I got the impression the focus is more on the eating and enjoying the food rather than how you go about this. It seems in more up-market restaurants it's perfectly OK to spit (or at least deposit) the bones on the table, to burp (or at least belch) contently when you've finished eating or slurp your soup directly from the bowl. You're allowed to bend over the table and bring your face level with your food for convenience. So, the result of this is that when I come home from Asia my family note that I have picked up a multitude of bad habits. But as for me, I feel a lot more at home and relaxed going out for food here.
Monday, 3 March 2008
Bestiary of Foreigners
China is a country that attracts foreigners a lot and attracts more and more of them these days. I mean, hey, I'm here for a reason. People in the Wudaokou area of Beijing will certainly not be surprised to see a Westerner anymore.
In China, though, there are a number of kinds or "subtypes" of foreigners. Let me explain. In Russia, e.g., there are about two kinds of foreigners: mainly the one that speaks Russian and the one that doesn't (and maybe the occasional language student).
Now, in China there are degrees. First, there's the clueless, the tourist - you see them stand in front of signs for extended periods of time trying to match the writing with that in their guide book or note. I guess, to be fair, that's how we all start. Occasionally, you also get the stubbornly clueless - often from English-speaking countries. "Why don't they just speak English?"
Then you have your average language student, who speaks and reads some Chinese and is very proud of it, too. They will, on occasion, be very eager to help translate for lesser types to show off their skills at mastering this difficult language. (somehow I have a feeling this is where I fit in the food chain)
Then there's the proficient language student who speaks and reads fluently - to the great amazement of locals and annoyance of the average student: "why does he get all the attention?"
There's the language teacher - again often from English-speaking countries. This subtype is often very apologetic about their apparent lack of improvement when it comes to learning Chinese: "if I only had more time..." An interesting variant of this one is the teacher from non-standard English backgrounds - be it from "Austroilia" or "Fronce". Makes you on one side pity their poor students (I once had a conversation with a New Zealand teacher who I could hardly understand). On the other hand you wonder if this will result in Chinese people speaking English with an Irish brogue or slight Tsherman aktsent. That would certainly be exotic!
Finally, there's the "I live and breathe China" type. It's not that common but once in a while there's a sighting - like with the Yeti. It's usually a mutation of the above types after staying in China for a prolonged time. Their language proficiency varies. They do commonly have a Chinese name and are proud of it - so proud that they may even choose to forget their real name (this has happened: "what's your English name?" - "没有" [I don't have one]). They will readily (requested or not) dispense insights into this mystical country and its culture that their long sojourn has allowed them to gain. Toward other Westerners they will try to act as Chinese as possible and relentlessly support their new chosen home. Somehow I get the impression that if they didn't continue to stay here they would be completely unfit to return to the rest of the world. I hope I never enter on that dark path or forever will it dominate my destiny.
In China, though, there are a number of kinds or "subtypes" of foreigners. Let me explain. In Russia, e.g., there are about two kinds of foreigners: mainly the one that speaks Russian and the one that doesn't (and maybe the occasional language student).
Now, in China there are degrees. First, there's the clueless, the tourist - you see them stand in front of signs for extended periods of time trying to match the writing with that in their guide book or note. I guess, to be fair, that's how we all start. Occasionally, you also get the stubbornly clueless - often from English-speaking countries. "Why don't they just speak English?"
Then you have your average language student, who speaks and reads some Chinese and is very proud of it, too. They will, on occasion, be very eager to help translate for lesser types to show off their skills at mastering this difficult language. (somehow I have a feeling this is where I fit in the food chain)
Then there's the proficient language student who speaks and reads fluently - to the great amazement of locals and annoyance of the average student: "why does he get all the attention?"
There's the language teacher - again often from English-speaking countries. This subtype is often very apologetic about their apparent lack of improvement when it comes to learning Chinese: "if I only had more time..." An interesting variant of this one is the teacher from non-standard English backgrounds - be it from "Austroilia" or "Fronce". Makes you on one side pity their poor students (I once had a conversation with a New Zealand teacher who I could hardly understand). On the other hand you wonder if this will result in Chinese people speaking English with an Irish brogue or slight Tsherman aktsent. That would certainly be exotic!
Finally, there's the "I live and breathe China" type. It's not that common but once in a while there's a sighting - like with the Yeti. It's usually a mutation of the above types after staying in China for a prolonged time. Their language proficiency varies. They do commonly have a Chinese name and are proud of it - so proud that they may even choose to forget their real name (this has happened: "what's your English name?" - "没有" [I don't have one]). They will readily (requested or not) dispense insights into this mystical country and its culture that their long sojourn has allowed them to gain. Toward other Westerners they will try to act as Chinese as possible and relentlessly support their new chosen home. Somehow I get the impression that if they didn't continue to stay here they would be completely unfit to return to the rest of the world. I hope I never enter on that dark path or forever will it dominate my destiny.
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