Return to Qingcheng Back Mountain, Dec. 14

Our driver Zhou had his timing perfect this morning. He drove up to the front of the apartment complex just as Mark and I reached the parking lot. It was just 7:00a.m., an hour before daylight, and on a Sunday morning it was quiet as Chengdu ever gets. Zhou drove us the most direct route to the toll road heading north north-west - on streets that are usually bogged down in traffic.

By 9:00a.m. we were in Ti-An, the village which is the gateway to Qingcheng Back Mountain. Not many people were around; whether it was due to the earthquake damage or simply because it was off-season, we couldn't tell. At the bridge crossing between the two main plazas, we saw the woman from whom we had bought pancakes on a stick at the end of our last trip. She was just setting up her wok and wares. We greeted her and signaled with our hands that we would be back.

Mark and I both started off with a fleece jacket and a gortex coat, but they got crammed into our backpacks rather early on the journey. It turned out to be a beautiful, sunny day with a high in the low sixties (Mark brought along his pocket thermometer).

We started out on the same path we had taken in the afternoon with the Samuels family, still with its occasional roadblocks and bridges out. It didn't take us too long to pass the point where we had turned around that first time. The next section was new to me, but I recognized parts of it from Mark's blog of last week, including the overturned ferryboat at the now dry Jade Lake.

It was 11:20 by the time we climbed up to Baiyun (White Cloud) Village. It is built on a promontory just wide enough for a center road/plaza and rows of buildings on either side. No roads go up to Baiyun, but in better times it had a fair number of tourists arriving by cable car, and could support restaurants and a few hotels. Now it seemed almost deserted. We saw one woman - the first person we had seen since leaving Ti-an - who asked us (we think) if we wanted to eat. We motioned that we were just passing through.

At the other end of town our path continued up a set of stairs to the Baiyun Monastery, on a slight rise behind the village. The monastery was empty, and we could see quite a lot of rubble and missing tiles. Still, the place was attractive in the sunlight, with its entrance gate and curved roof.

From Baiyun we could see monasteries perched on the steep mountainside; our path was now taking us past them.

Not too long after leaving White Cloud Monastery, we reached an abandoned ticket booth and a fenced area with an open gate leading to a large grotto. There were larger than lifesize figures - Buddhas and Buddha-like women, all in good condition. On the outside of the path were a series of small terraces, each with a small stone table and stools. We sat down at one to eat our lunch, enjoying the sunlight and the great view over the valley.

Not too much further along, we came across a set of larger than lifesize figures which seem to be telling a story. They were behind protective bars, but I managed to get my camera through to photograph a man rowing a boat. Again, the figures appear to be in excellent condition, and are brightly painted.

We then came upon a grotto with hundreds of tiny Buddhas embedded in the wall. There was a stairway leading up to what seemed to be the main part of the monastery. By this time I was feeling rather tired of steps, and we weren't sure on our timing - whether we'd be able to make the loop or if we would have to backtrack. Mark went a short ways up, but didn't want to be gone too long. [Later we found a blog from a couple who had walked this path in 2005, when everything was open. A short series of steps leads out of the cave, then there is a long, steep staircase leading up to the main monastery. We'll have to save this for another trip!]

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The path was now along a steep slope, almost a cliff. It was a long ways down, and I was thankful that the narrower portions often had a handrail. Then we came to a bad spot where a landslide had destroyed the paved path. We could tell by the footprints across the area that someone had made it across, but there were no handholds, and the slope was steep and treacherous both above and below the narrow flattened track. We considered turning around, but decided to try it anyway; we were hoping to make a loop, catching up with part of the trail Mark had completed the previous week. We made it across, but neither of us wants to do that part of the trail again until it has been fixed. Then we came on another spot equally as bad. Again, we decided to go on, in part because otherwise we'd have to go back over that other spot. As you can surmise, we made it over, but again would not recommend this portion of the trail to any of our friends.

We then passed through a series of grottos, one with a large reclining Buddha, other with multiple figures which seemed to be telling stories, one of Buddha with pandas.

As we descended, we got into a forested area with gentler slopes. Although there were still the occasional obstacles in the path, the going became much easier. We had some great views of the opposite slope and Baiyun village.

We finally reached Youyi Village (picture below is view of village looking northwest) which was (and hopefully soon will be again) quite a bustling tourist town. There are no roads to the village, but there was a cable car from Ti-An. It is nestled in a hanging valley, next to a stream; it is probably cool there even in the hottest parts of summer. The map of the town shows numerous restaurants and hotels. We saw half a dozen people in town, the first we'd seen since Baiyun village. There were no other tourists, but it looked as if things had been closed up for the season rather than because of earthquake damage.

Mark assured me that the path back to the ferryboat below Baiyun village would be "a piece of cake". I took one look at the steps leading out of the village to the top of the ridge, and asked him to define "piece of cake". He then said that he meant that there were no dangerous spots. On the way out of the village we saw a woman carrying a large basket of firewood on her back, and a man carrying a six-foot length of tree-trunk on his back (we got out of his way in a hurry!), so I felt I could probably make it back carrying just my backpack. Still, it was a long ways back, my legs were tired, and my balance wasn't at its best. The obstacles which hadn't seemed so bad in the morning seemed a lot more difficult going down.

I was grateful when we finally reached the plaza at Ti-An. Our favorite vendor was still there, and she had two glutionous rice pancakes that she was eager to sell us for 1 yuan apiece. She then invited us to sit on some chairs nearby to eat them. She then urged other food on us; Mark tried her smoked tofu on a stick, which he generously coated with the dried red pepper from a nearby dish. It was good enough that he went back and had another.

It was 4:30, but after 7 1/2 hours of hiking, we still had the energy (somehow) to take a short walk around Ti-An. There are several hotels around the main plaza, and there is a row of stalls (boarded up, probably for the season) along one side of the river. There used to be a river walk along the other side; it appears to be in the process of being reconstructed. Mark and I both agreed that it would be a pleasant place to stay for a few days of hiking.

Two Weeks that went by fast: Dec. 1 -13

Two Weeks that went by fast: Dec. 1 -13

Much of the past two weeks has been taken up by things that are now getting to be routine - food shopping and cooking, working on my Chinese, presiding over house repairs. We still don't have our pictures up or a rug for the livingroom (which has an icy-cold tile floor), but otherwise things are coming together fairly well.

The International Women's Club had its annual Christmas bazaar on Dec. 6, held on the grounds of QSI [Quality Schools International, an American-style elementary school]. It was my first time on the school grounds, which are located in the Hi-Tech Zone in the southwestern part of the city. I hadn't realized that it was going to be outdoors; my coat was fine, but my black shoes have very thin soles, so the ground got a bit cold. There were stalls with food and goods to buy, some games for the kids, and entertainment by some of the school kids. I helped man a booth for most of the day - selling dishware that had been donated by one of the hotels. It was not a fast-moving item until the last hour, when we halved all the prices. There was a flock of people buying serving plates and bowls for 10 and 15 yuan each. Then three Chinese women who work at the school descended on me and started bargaining in Chinese. I could understand the gist of what they were staying - they'd take the remaining dishes if the price went down to 5 yuan each. Well, we didn't want any left-over dishes, so the women got quite a bargain. Overall, the bazaar brought in 154,000 yuan for refugee relief and reconstruction groups, including direct donations, and everyone seemed to have a good time, so it was a success.

On Wednesday, Dec. 10, Marya and I visited the Sichuan University Museum, which I can seen from my study window. The price was 30 yuan each, for which we got a private tour by a student volunteer who spoke quite good English. The museum has four floors of pottery, stoneware, clothing from the Qing dynasty and ethnic minorities, and items discovered by University students and staff on local digs. It was definitely worth the visit, but we were able to see everything there in a little over an hour.

Marya and I then walked over a few blocks to the small restaurant known in Mark's office as the "$2 Restaurant". It was already fairly full, but there was a small table for two indoors - it was a little too cool for eating outside. We were handed the English version of the menu, but Marya and I already knew what dishes we wanted: I ordered gan bian si ji dou (spicy green beans) and Marya ordered an eggplant and garlic dish. Both were delicious.

It was still early, so Marya and I called Joe to drive us to Daci Temple, the largest Buddhist Temple in the city, not too far away from either the Waterfront or downtown. It is large with some interesting statues, but it is much more of a working temple than a tourist site. (The entry fee is 5 yuan, which for what we saw seemed about right.) Marya and I then walked along Daci street to the Foreign Language Bookstore a few blocks to the west. We browsed for about an hour - I bought a few maps, then we walked on to Times Plaza. We went into Ito Yokado (a Japanese department store) so Marya could buy some hose (not a common item here), then went on to the local Starbucks for coffee. Not my usual hangout, but we had a pleasant time.

Guest blog on Qingcheng Back Mountain

7 December 2008

I borrowed Ruth’s driver Joe and car, and off we drove to the misty mountains of Qingcheng. We left Chengdu at 7 AM, still in the dark, and reached the trailhead of Wulong (five dragon) Bridge, only 24 kilometers from Dujiangyan, at 9 AM. I told Joe to expect me back at 5 PM in Tia-an village.

The May earthquake devastated the town and villages. The park and roads have recently been re-opened, but travel on the trails is definitely at your own risk. Vehicle traffic was very, very light, almost none.

This trailhead is the most western, official starting point of the walking paths away from the paved road. The path leads into the Five Dragon (Wulong) Gorge, and up to Youyi Village. From Youyi Village one (of several) paved, stepped path leads to the upper cable car station of Jinli, then northeast, downhill to Cuiying lake. At the lake one path leads northwest, up-valley to Baiyun (White Cloud) village or southeast, down-valley back to Tia-an village (a village named Pingle on the road map). This was my plan.

The trail starts out across an excellent river bridge and over the first massive landslide of limestone and chert cobble conglomerate. The mountain face came down during the quake and buried the trail. After this I walk 100 meters of good trail, then clamber over the next landslide pile, past a totally flattened food station, boulder-crushed outhouse, bridge out, another landslide mass, another bridge out, over more boulders, jump the creek. Good thing the water is low or it would be impassible. I pass another abandoned food station; the building is standing but not much else. Three billy goats gruff are guarding one pavilion on the trail. They trail blaze for me for about 100 meters until they can find a side area to let me past.

I climb over several more landslides and a few small bridges out. Several really neat waterfalls are along the trail to view. There is no one else here, neither traveling up river nor down. Then I entered the 600 meter plank road--a concrete, rebar path mostly suspended above the water, cemented to a vertical canyon wall in places, with bridge crossings almost every 50 meters. One really bad bridge-out spot required me to climb down into the creek bed, climb over some boulders and figure out how to climb up the next bank with only handholds. I sure could have used a 35 meter rope and I sure hoped I didn’t need to return this way. Finally I exited the plank road.

I passed the White Dragon side trail and continued northwest. The valley opened up and I was out of the canyon- views of the adjacent mountains were spectacular, almost clear skies and temperatures at 60 degrees. After another ten minutes, at 11 AM, I came up on the empty village of Youyi at 1300 meters elevation. All the numerous restaurants and hotels locked and closed up. An old woman sat in from of one and asked if I was hungry and wanted something to eat. I could hear a dog barking ahead of me. The Lower Baiyun cable station is closed. There wasn’t much visible damage in this town. The hotels and eateries are numerous here- including a town map listing all the places.

I take the paved path that goes northeast, uphill to the upper Jinli cable car station, I pass the closed “OK” hotel and restaurant and say hello to a man and women engaged in hand chopping down a tree. From the hotel, the trail goes downhill to the deserted station. A wide road is being built from the station down the ridge towards Tai-an village. I take the signposted path northeast toward the Feiquan Gorge and Cuiying Lake. A few landslides of topsoil have covered the trail. One 100 meter strip is through a young bamboo forest; the trail is completely covered by the brush. After reaching a ridge crest on the south side of Feiquan Gorge, the trail starts down. On the crest, the views are great. It’s 60 degrees out, sunny, no one at all since the OK hotel: 11.45 AM at 1368 meters elevation.

Down I go and finally, I pass a young man, wearing a cap and bright-colored jacket going up. That is four people all day! At the creek bottom, I head upstream, cross a bridge and walk through another deserted food station-hotel. At the northern end is a dam, now broken where a lake used to be. The trail used to end at the dam where a ferry boat would transport you across the lake to continue hiking. Now the path lies on a sandy lake bottom walking past the upside-down ferry boat. The northern shore has a debris-ladden terminal there with a formerly adorned Taoist statue.

The trail continues up creek past more landslides and one bridge that was reduced to two concrete rebar logs and a handrail. The way across is to face the handrail, hold on and take sideways steps until you are across. Pass the tea pavilion on the side, say your thanks and on you go to the double waterfalls, waterfall pool and side trail, cliff steps, plank road over the edge and across the Heaven Bridge, which was undamaged, thank heaven. From here, it’s a simple 1 kilometer stroll to Baiyun Village.

A mud landslide has taken out a piece of the path near the village. The hotels are built on stilts and much of the soil is gone. The structural supports barely keeping the buildings up. The village is built like a fortress – on a ridge crest with downhill on 3 sides and only the northern end is uphill. All the buildings are cracked, with collapsed walls and rubble everywhere. None of the buildings look salvageable. As I climb the steps to enter the village proper, a white lapdog stands immobile on the mud trail, frozen? Please move, dude! He leads the way into the empty village center where a middle-aged man emerges from the shadows. I say hello and smile. He asks me what are do you doing here (good question!). I point to the camera dangling from my chest and explain I’m walking up the mountain. He points to where the trail goes to a pavilion overlooking the town. I go to one side to get some more mountain scenery pictures and he gets concerned, but not enough to do anything but stare. I take my photos and continue climbing up the path for some really good 360 degree views of all the surrounding mountains. Along a circular cliff wall to the west, I can see several small hotels or temples built into the cliffs. It is now 1 PM and 1515 meters elevation.

I’m out of time. So I have to back track to just below the former lake and try the trail down Feiquan Gorge. Will it be open? The mud map of the route shows a plank road through the gorge. At 1.45 PM, I’m covering new ground. The gorge deepens, and the plank road takes over – my luck holds it’s a plank road over a dry gravel river bed. The creek gradient steepens and the waterfalls and plunge pools abound. Thus, the landslides increase and about every 100 meters it’s over the landslides and across the creek where the bridges are out. Difficult but not dangerous. Luckily also at low water – I wouldn’t do this after winter run-off. Finally I’m in a tight gorge and I notice to one side a narrow muddy stretch where people have been walking. The official trail drops steeply on a plank road. Not a good sign. I’m only 2 km or less from the bottom and I don’t want to walk back the way I came in. I descend to the bottom of a plunge pool and inspect the plank road. It had been ripped off the canyon wall. Some innovative people had placed a narrow wooden plank around the edge, about 3 meters above the water. Had others used it? I took a good hard look at it. Can I crawl across it safely? Do I even want to try? Nope – Time to look at that improvised alternative trail, up above.

So I walk back up about 30 meters and try the steep slope path only ½ a meter wide, obviously made post-earthquake. This path would be a run-of-the-mill Colorado trail. After crossing the soil covered talus slope, it flattened into a boulder-rubble field - ever easier. After crossing a canyon spur, I cleared into view and saw the trail below, a partially damaged outhouse next to an undamaged trail segment. And on this segment were two girls who were giddily screaming into the canyon to hear their echoes. I was free and clear. From here it was a 20 minute stroll over several more landslide boulder fields, bridges out and destroyed food stations. I saundered into the almost Tai-an village plaza at 3 PM. A piece of cake.

The lady selling fried gluttonous rice pancakes at the river bridge on our last visit wasn’t there, so I made do with coffee milk and crackers. The mist continued to roll in and winter evening gloom started. The temperature was about 55 degrees. I was still sweating. The village was empty of tourists. Only the hard sounds of men and women working at rebuilding the town could be heard. Moving rubble with a backhoe, recovering rebar and individual bricks from the collapsed buildings, laying new brick in new buildings. A sign along the road advertised for rebuilding labor. Most stores and restaurants were closed, the open ones were empty. A few children played in the street. Tents were in courtyards where some people are still living. The open restaurants had their pickled cabbage jars, fresh white dofu, smoked fatty pork and fresh vegetables.

Good Neighbors, Nov 27-30

A Late Thanksgiving: November 27-29

Mark and I decided not to try to do the traditional Thanksgiving this year. I did not want my first attempt at roasting meat in my convection oven to be with a $50+ bird. When I tried roasting vegetables, they ended up being dessicated in the process. I'm still too far down on the learning curve to experiment with high-priced ingredients. Since Thursday was also Mark's birthday, we decided to go out to eat to celebrate. Since we are both fond of Indian food, we selected Namaste, a small Indian restaurant advertised in More, one of Chengdu's English language monthly magazines. The food, when it finally came, was fairly good, but our main dish never arrived - the waitress had either forgotten or had not understood. When we asked about it, she blushed and disappeared. We ended up taking our lamb dish home for the next day. (We have since seen a short review of the restaurant, which called the service there the worst in town.)

I had not arranged a cake for Mark, which was just as well, since our driver Joe presented him with a fancy cake from Anderson Bakery. The round cake had white whipped-cream topping with a fancy arrangement of fresh fruit on top (a slice of kiwi, some dragon fruit, melon, and a couple of grape tomatoes (which are sold as fruit instead of as vegetables here), and a lacy layer of chocolate around the side. It was a nice gesture on his part, but gifts here have an implied obligation, and we're not completely sure of the protocol.

On Friday evening, Mark and I happened to be in the apartment hall at the same time as Robyn and Peter, who live at the other end of the hall. Robyn and I have been friends since September, when we were both staying at the Shangri-La, but we hadn't seen each other much after moving in. When I did, it was usually on the way to someplace with three kids, two ayi's, and an exuberant German shepherd in tow. In the past couple of weeks, we've gone shopping at the wholesale area together and gone to the university campus to find out about their Chinese course. This evening, none of us had an place to rush off to, so Peter and Robyn invited Mark and me in to talk.

After discussing the various trials and tribulations of expat work and life, we moved on to a variety of other subjects. Robyn and Peter and kids had gone out for a Thanksgiving dinner, where they had a wonderful turkey. Robyn had been able to procure a fresh turkey from the same source and was planning to cook it the next evening - would we come over and join them for turkey and the works? We gave an enthusiastic yes.

The turkey was scrumptious, as were the potatoes and gravy, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, and cranberry sauce. And of course, good food tastes even better when there are good friends to share it with.

Qingcheng Back Mountain, Sunday, November 30

The closest mountains to Chengdu are to the north about 45 km. It can take more time to get to the north end of Chengdu than to take the modern expressway to Dujiangyan, a town known for its ancient irrigation works and its Taoist temples. These northern mountains achieved a different kind of notariety in May as the epicenter for the horrendous earthquake. This was Mark's and my first venture into an area hard hit by that earthquake.

25 kms to the west of Dujiangyan is Qingcheng mountain, which, according to one locally published guide book, is "Loaded with temples and tourist traps." Mark opted for us to go a bit further to the back mountain, which "offers over 20 km of hiking grails that wind through exotic gingko and plum groves, past breathtaking cliff-top vistas, and through quaint little temple complexes and villages".

We had company for this trip. What with Saturday soccer practice and all, Robyn had yet to get out of Sichuan, so she asked Mark and me to include her family on our next trip. So we had our poor drivers Feng and Joe meet us at 7:00am (which is still dark here) to make the 1 1/2 hr trip to the northwest. The kids must have been excited about this trip, for they were all seated in the car, ready to go before either parent showed up. With Jocko the dog, they had a full vehicle, so Robyn rode up with us.

We had our drivers park on the outskirts of Tai-an village, an attractive site along a river confluence. It used to be a popular tourist destination, with a large Temple and a cable car up the mountain, but it had been hard hit by the earthquake. The cable car was no longer operational, and we could see many landslide scars on the slopes. Within the village, there were still piles of rubble, while other buildings, though standing, must surely have been condemned. There were a couple of restaurants still in business, at that hour laying out their fresh vegetables in front, with dark slabs of smoked fatty pork hanging on hooks above them.

It felt like winter in the mountains, with cold, crisp air that penetrated through my wool jacket. I put my raincoat on under my jacket, which felt good for about the first half hour, but I soon ended up with both coats tied around my waist as the bright sun nudged the temperature into the 60s.

At first, Mark's chosen trail looked like a bust. We crossed the river on a small suspension bridge, then immediately had to cross over a wide area of scrabble from a recent landslide. Then, on the other side of it, we found the familiar paved walkway and steps of Chinese trails, leading us into a steep narrow gorge. The scenery was stunning, with the hint of fall color on the slopes (mostly yellow from the gingkos), and all the little waterfalls on the boulder-strewn creek. Every so often, a bridge would take us to the other side of the creek for a while.

Every five minutes or so we would come to a spot where a rock fall had covered the trail or had taken out a bridge. Some of them had obvious paths over or around them; others were mini-engineering puzzles as we had to figure out how to get four adults, three kids, and a dog safely across. The kids were troopers. There were a few times toward the beginning when I thought that Robyn or Peter would say we couldn't go any further, (esp. since Peter was wearing a shirt with his safety patch on it, but Robyn told me that they had taken the kids on a lot of "adventures" before.

Perhaps the most difficult place was at a washed out bridge. We humans were able to shimmy down about five feet on two securely-wedged pieces of bamboo, then find a dry path from rock to rock through the creek. Jocko was able to leap down, and didn't at all mind getting his feet wet, but getting him back up the five feet to the path was another matter. A full-sized German shepherd is a lot of dog, and even a willing dog does not take kindly to a push up on the backside. I was well ahead by the time Peter got Jocko up on the path, so I didn't see how he did it, but Jocko was just happy to be reunited with everyone. We had to let Peter and Jocko get to the head of the group so that Jocko wouldn't knock anyone over in all his enthusiasm.

The public toilet along the side of the trail had its roof smashed in, which a large boulder occupying most of what had been the two small rooms.

Mark apologized to Robyn and Peter that he had mistakenly promised them that there would be food vendors all along the trail. Instead, we saw no-one else as we went up, and only a few small groups as we went down. After about an hour and a half, we reached the remains of a large food station with room accomodations. "The world without us" - a patio area with one possibly usable chair and shallow piles of rubble, oddly attractive in the bright sunlight, with the creek rippling past. Just above us was a small pagoda, which would once have offered a prime view, but now has a large boulder inside it. We rested here for a while and let the kids play around before heading on back. The trip down, for all its obstacles, went quickly and without incident.

Feng greeted us as we approached the cars. We wondered where Joe had gone until we realized that he was sleeping in the back seat. I had had my mind set on eating at the restaurant where we had observed all the fresh vegetables in the morning, but there were three tourist buses parked in front of it. (Though we never did see the tourists.)

We then rode the short distance through town to a restaurant opposite the Tai-an Temple. Feng ordered for us, then we walked around the village until the food was ready. We had smoked fatty pork with spring onions, tofu, two dishes of greens, one of mushrooms, and two of cabbage, plus plenty of rice. The dishes were simple and lightly spiced, especially compared with the heavy-handed spiciness of most Chengdu food. We were hungry, and all the fresh vegetables hit the spot.

After lunch we tried another trail which starts near the defunct cable car station. We passed through an ornamental gate to a broad plaza which had the remain of tourist stalls. There were perhaps a dozen large tents set up there which are still being lived in.

If anything, this trail was in even worse condition than the first one. Jocko had so much trouble getting up onto the path after a washed-out section, that out hike was almost over before it started. Then we had to cross a bridge on which two large falling rocks had broken through the concrete and were still resting on the rebar. Still, we had another satisfying - and even more challenging - hike. By 3:15 we were back in the cars, ready to relax on the way back home.

Mark feels that he was able to see most of what Xiling had to offer in the way of trails in three visits, but that Qingcheng - back and front - will take much more time than that.

Wonder Stones Museum, November 23

Wonder Stones Museum, Sunday, November 23

After a week of drizzle and cold damp, we were grateful to see the sun on Sunday. Mark wanted to check out the Wonder Stones Museum. He had picked up a single-page brochure on it, all in Chinese except for the name. He showed the brochure and its map to Joe, who succeeded in finding it after about an hour. It’s located in a suburb fairly far to the west, one where the traffic hasn’t yet caught up with the broad avenues, though with the number of construction cranes we saw around, I imagine that it will be quite congested within a year. The plaza where the museum is located also appears to be in the process of being assembled. There is a broad open area that is almost empty, surrounded by small stores. The shops that were open were selling carved stone souvenirs, art stones (rocks with interesting shapes or colors on a carved wooden stand), and a few crystals. I should say they have these items for sale, for the only transactions we saw going on were the rock vendors buying from the food vendors. Along the boundary of the plaza there were perhaps 20 large rock masses, most of them 10-12’ stalactites, that looked as if they had recently been set into place.

The museum itself was in a former exhibition hall; signs were still up for an international orchid festival that had taken place there a year or two back. The museum was set up to look as if we were walking through a cave. Unfortunately, this meant that the entire museum was cold and dark, and most of the glass cases were not well lit. The one room which had a few specimens that Mark was moderately interested in was the darkest of all. The museum exited into a large, well-lit showroom with art rocks for sale. Many of these were massive pieces of stone set on carved wooden or concrete bases. The prices were given in wan (1 wan = 10,000 yuan = $1,500). Mark and I looked briefly, but they were not pieces he was remotely interested in, at any price.

We won’t go back, but Mark was glad that we went, if only to check it off our list.

On the way back home, we had Joe let us out at the art and antiquities market near Dufu cottage. Mark had seen a beryl crystal there when we had gone on our long river walk in September. He found the vendor, and the crystal was still there. He was able to bargain the piece down from 80 to 40 yuan, easily enough that he no doubt still overpaid, but it wasn’t enough to quibble about. By this time we knew enough Chinese (barely) to ask where the rock came from. The vendor borrowed our dictionary, paged through it a bit, but couldn’t find what she wanted, so she wrote down in Mark’s notebook “Fu Lan” in pinyin. We would have preferred the Chinese characters, but we figured we could look it up.

In the evenings I’ve been reading Shark Fin Soup and Sichuan Pepper by Fucshia Dunlop, an English woman who studied in Chengdu in 1994 and eventually became the first Westerner to attend the Sichuan Higher Institute of Cuisine. Her first year she lived in the foreign student’s building at the university, which I can see across the river from my study window. On Sunday evening I read her discussion of the Sichuan dialect, which mixes up tones and L’s with N’s and Y’s with F’s, so that the neighboring province of Yunnan becomes “Fulan”. So we found our mystery location without even trying!

On Monday I went with a group of six other women to a restaurant supply store in the south part of the city. It had three stories of cookware and dishes, reasonably priced and made to withstand heavy use. I bought a thermos coffee pitcher, some glasses, and some spice containers. Afterwards, we ate a nice restaurant on the “Walking Street” of the Hi-Tech zone at the south end of town. I had never been to this are before; one of the English language grade-schools is located in this area, so there are a fair number of expats who live nearby. We had a huge lunch (30 yuan a piece) with many wonderful dishes, and had a good time talking together. Several of the women who went, including I’leen, who organized it, have been in Chengdu for several years and are fluent in Chinese, so it made for interesting conversation.

A social week, November 16-21

North Lake, Sunday, November 16

Mark had been intrigued by North Park, a large green area in the northeast corner of our city map. Since it was a nice day, it seemed like a good time to check out another park. As with other parks, we found that the boundaries shown on the map did not reflect reality. There is indeed a large lake with some public walkways around it, but all the area outside of the road around the lake is privately owned - mostly open air restaurants, with a few hotel/resorts. Lots of people were there - couples or families with young children, eating, strolling, or enjoying the various amusements: paddleboats, horserides, amusement rides, or feeding the fish. In one section of the lake there were hundreds of large carp, in glistening gold, black, orange, and white, that were all struggling for a prime feeding spot next to the wall. Those in the rear would push those in front out of the water. The beached fish would then turn around and "swim" over the backs of the other fish until it could get back into the water, then start again in its quest for a prime feeding spot.

The areas with pedestrian paths were not bad for walking, but there were too many spots where we had to share the road with cars and vendors. It was a relatively pleasant experience, but not one we're anxious to repeat.

Getting an ayi, Monday, November 17

I had thought at first that I could function here quite well on my own. After all, it's just the two of us, the apartment isn't that big, and I'm learning the ins and outs of shopping and cooking in China. However, when I started having to deal with mildew in the kitchen cupboards and multiple design problems in the master bedroom bathroom (unsealed granite floor, shower stall with many nooks and crannies to collect moisture, and drains which are too high in elevation), I decided I could use some reinforcements. I put out the word to Robyn's driver, Feng (who speaks excellent English) that I would like someone who could work two days a week. On Monday morning he introduced me to Sisi, a pleasant 28-year-old who speaks basic English. Her only concern is that she has to leave by 4:00p.m. - to bicycle back to pick her 2-year-old son up from school. I ended up offering her 80 yuan per each 7-hour day (about $12). It still seems awfully low to me for getting my floors cleans, my clothes washed and ironed, lunch cooked, kitchen and bathroom cleaned, etc., but it's twice what she asked for and slightly higher than the going daily rate for a full-time ayi. I just hope that it's sufficiently within the bellcurve so that I'm not setting things up for future difficulties.

We spent part of that first morning going shopping at Carrefour for cleaning supplies and some vegetables. Since I was home for lunch, Sis fixed us some two nicely-seasoned vegetable dishes and some rice. It was a pleasant day - though I don't always plan on being around for the full day of cleaning.

Wholesale Market Area, Tuesday, November 18

This was the first time that my Robyn and I have gotten together for an outing. In the six weeks that we've been neighbors, I've seen her mainly in passing in the hallway, with three kids, two ayis, and a good-sized dog in tow. This morning Robyn wanted to take me to the Lotus market - a large whole-sale area on the north side of town when they "sell everything." We decided to take along both drivers: my driver Joe to drive, and her drive Feng to translate. We started off on a street with shop after shop of fabric. Some specialized in men's suiting, others in plain and plaid woolens, or silks and brocades, or a mixture of fake furs, acrylics, and dress-up fabrics. There were shops with buttons and belts and trims of all sortsm, and even a Christmas shop filled with garish paper and plastic decorations.

We then passed through an area of hotel supplies - uniforms, dishes, large red welcome mats, and formal bedcovers. Another block was taken up by shoes, including an entire closed area with dozens of little shops selling nothing but women's boots.

Robyn and I ate lunch is a small restaurant on a side street, along with our two drivers. We had a wonderful meal with cabbage dishes, green beans, soup, and mounds of rice, all for a pittance. Some of my favorite meals in China so far have been in such places where no attention is paid to the decor, but the chef is an artist.

After lunch we wandered some more. Robyn found a little umbrella shop which can custom make an awning for her roof garden. We wandered through a large building with stalls of scarves, hair assessories, and purses, then through a good-sized meat and produce market. Robyn then took me to another fabric area, which she had visited on a previous trip, because it had the fabric she wished to buy. While she negotiated with the vendor, I wandered through dozens of small stalls. Many of the women vendors were knitting or doing cross-stitch. Some of the men were eating or playing cards. One man was curled up in a nest of his merchandise for a mid-afternoon nap. So far, in any such areas I've visited, I've seen very little commerce taking place other than the buying and consumption of hot food, prepared in stalls on the outskirts of this area and then delivered. It seems to me that most of these vendors make a very meagre living.

Women's luncheon, Wednesday, November 19

The trouble with pot-luck lunches here is that I'm still having difficulty preparing dishes that are suitable for sharing with a larger audience. I have yet to buy flour or butter or leavening of any kind; if filo dough and feta are available here in Chengdu - for my formerly favorite company dish of spanakopita - they probably cost more than I'm willing to pay. I woke up with a hankering to try an egg, broccoli, bread chunks, and cheese recipe I used to make in the States. Never mind that I didn't actually have a copy of the recipe, the eggs are much smaller (and the yolks much more orange) than in the U.S., the only cheese I had was a Velveeta clone, and I still haven't mastered the complexities of the convection oven. The result looked rather flat and dry compared with the original conception, but it ended up tasting OK.

By 11:15 I was off with my casserole and some cut-up watermelon to first pick up Marianthe from the Shangri-La, then to go to China Gardens. Beth's home shares an entrance garden area with Wanda's and Doki's, so it was easy to find. Her original houseplan is the same as their's as well, but the kitchen has been considerably enlarged, with a wonderful window overlooking the front garden. I must admit to feeling a bit of kitchen envy! We had a good time talking with the other women, and the food was quite good (though I was thankful that most of my egg dish got eaten - here, cheese in any form is a luxury.)

Marianthe and I then went back to the silk street area, where she had commissioned a tailor to make her a brocade jacket. It had been a bit of a gamble; she knew nothing about the tailor and they didn't speak any common language, but her communication skills must have been adequate. The red brocade jacket with black trim fit her perfectly and was very flattering. We then had Joe drop us off in the shopping district near Wenhu Temple to revisit an embroidery shop she had seen on a previous visit. The embroidery for which Chengdu is famous uses silk thread to "paint" a textured picture on a translucent background. Goldfish and panda bears are two of most common subjects; others feature flowers or landscapes. The pricier ones are stretched in a wooden frame with a geometric design carved into its border.

Sanxingdui, Friday, November 21

On Friday I had arranged to go on an outing with my friends Marya and Marianthe. Our destination was the Sanxingdui museum, located in a town about 40 km north of Chengdu. It took us about 1 1/2 hours to get there, most of that time just to get out of Chengdu. This new museum has been built on the major archeological site for the Shu culture, which predated the Chinese. Most of the artifacts are of stone or bronze, with a few pieces in gold.

Entrance price is 82 yuan - about $12 - but we decided that it was well worth it. The extensive grounds are beautifully landscaped. There are two separate museums, one for stone and the other for bronze. Although the overall lighting in both museums is minimal, each piece is well lit and presented so that you can see it from multiple angles, often with mirrors to help. For the stone pieces, especially those with extensive designwork, the back wall shows a large-scale drawing of the object and its ornamentation. I especially liked some of the bird designs. The Shu culture revered trees; among the objects in the stone museum were some "money trees" and other tree structures that may have been used as altars. There are still a lot of questions about the Shu culture. The bilingual signs help put things in perspective by showing maps of the sites, dates of excavation, and similar objects found elsewhere around the world.

The highlight of the bronze gallery is a series of spectacular masks. A couple of them are perhaps three feet in diameter with eyeballs that stick out perhaps 20" on rods. Most of them are slightly larger than a human head, many similar but with different personality quirks. Mirrors show the plaited queue etched onto the back. A couple of the masks have a partial covering of gold on them.

A rotunda houses a massive model of a stylized tree with birds on its limbs. With this and a few other models where we did not see the actual piece, I was not sure whether the models were to scale or were much larger than life. They were certainly commanding in the size in which they were presented.

Outside on the grounds is an altar with a replica of perhaps the most famous piece on top of it - a Gumby-like figure with elbows out and arms in a position to hold something (there are circular holes formed by both hands to allow something to be placed in them. At this point, the hands hold an Olympic torch from the recent games.

By the time we had finished viewing the museums, three hours had passed and we were hungry. Joe drove us back to the city of Guanghan, then drove around until he found a suitable restaurant - one that was still fairly crowded, although it was well past the normal lunch hour. We asked him to order for us as well, and got a huge spread, including an artistic platter of Mu Shu Duck, soft wedges of pumpkin encircling a mound of sticky rice, tofu balls that looked like large marshmallows covered in an orange sauce, greens, and turkey neck soup. We invited him to eat with us, but he got out his pocket translator and came up with the translation "I ate." (This translation has a small square where he can write Chinese characters, which are then interpreted and translated. It doesn't work so well with more complex ideas. The day before, he wrote me a message that came out as "Iraq's China's ocean of vine." )

On the way out of Guanghan, we came across a stone fortress with a pagoda at the top. Intrigued, we asked Joe to stop so we could view it. The plaque on its side told us that this is Fanghu Park, which includes part of the original city walls. For 3 yuan apiece, we entered through the archway, climbed to the top to look out over the city, then walked through the park, which has several tea gardens, a playground, and a small amusement park with bumper cars.

That evening, Mark and I went out for hot pot with Colin and Marianthe, and Kun Hua, a colleague of Mark's whom we have known since the 1980s, who is also assigned to the same project. As none of us is that familiar with the city, we asked Joe to find us a place. He first took us to the No. 1 place in the city, but people were waiting outside to get in, and it was drizzling, so we weren't interested. He then took us to another spot, this time calling ahead to make a reservation for a private room. When we arrived at the restaurant, Joe came in briefly to give us his discount card - he eats there often. We got off to a bad start. Colin can't eat onions, and Kun Hua hates fish; the hot pot which was brought to us - half mild (broth) and half spicy (oil) had a whole fish in it and onions floating on the top, so we started over with similar broth sans the offending ingredients. After that things went well. We had a couple of plates of thin rolls of raw lamb, and marinated beef to cook in the hot pot, followed by slices of potatoes and radish (large and mild), some greens, and tofu. We each had a bowl with perhaps an inch of oil, to which we could add vinegar, cilantro, and other condiments. We were supposed to dip each piece in this (after it had cooked in the spicy oil) to "cool" it down.

The food was moderately good, and we enjoyed the company, but both Mark and I agree that hotpot is a lot of work for food that isn't nearly as good as most prepared dishes.

Around Town, November 10-14

On Monday and Tuesday, the electricity in our apartment complex was out for annual maintenance from 7:00a.m. - 8:00p.m., so I made plans to be elsewhere. On Monday morning I picked up Marianthe, who is in Chengdu for a three-week visit (her husband Colin is a consultant who works with Mark), and Wanda, to visit the Shu Brocade Museum. Wanda discovered a charming restaurant/ coffee house next to the museum, where we had coffee afterward. (Not too many places here serve coffee; they tend to be the more upscale places with upscale coffees.) We then drove to "Silk Street". This street is one of the listings in the Taxi book I was given in our relocation package - a listing of places by type and by name in English and Chinese. We found a single shop selling silk there which had bolts of cloth, silk scarves, and long Pashmina scarves (55% Pashmina, 45% silk). I had noticed these scarves for sale elsewhere; they are made in China, but not locally. They are pretty and quite cheap, so I bought several.

We found a nice-looking restaurant on the same street. Wanda and Marianthe know even less Chinese than I do, but we managed to get a fairly satisfying meal - lots of food, which cost us less than the coffees we had drunk earlier. We then walked around, exploring the other stores on the street, before calling it a day.

That evening Mark and I met Kun Hua and his wife Grace for supper. Mark had worked with Kun Hua 25 years ago in Denver. I had never met Grace before, but found her very gracious and easy to talk with. Since Kun Hua and Grace are new to town (they are house-hunting, and will be moving to Chengdu in January) and Mark and I don't have a great repertoire of restaurants, we took them to our old stand-by, the "$5" restaurant near the Shangri-La. With Kun Hua's help, we ordered a much more satisfying set of dishes than we usually get. All in all, we had a good time together - and the lights were on by the time we got back home.

On Tuesday I went to Wanda's, laptop in hand, to show our pictures of Guizhou to our friend Marya. It was the first time I had seen Wanda's pictures - it was fun to relive our trip without the hours on the windy roads and all the kleenex. Wanda's pictures have better color and look sharper than mine. I don't know how much is the quality of the pictures and how much is the quality of our computers - hers has better resolution. We were joined in the process by two other friends, Pat and Doki (Doki has just moved in next door to Wanda). It was close to noon by the time we finished viewing our pictures. Marya had to leave, but the rest of us went out for lunch. We walked out of China Gardens by a back gate and walked a short ways to a restaurant featuring noodles and dumplings. I ordered noodles, which came in a large bowl of soup. They were filling and tasted fine, but it was not one of my more memorable meals. We then walked a ways on Tongzilin Street, which has many shops which cater to an expatriate clientele. Wanda pointed out a video store which has some American movies. I asked if they were rentals; she said that they all for sale, most of them for 5 yuan each - less than $1. Next to the front gate of China Gardens (Wanda's entrance - there are multiple entrances) is a building with a woman standing in front wearing a Korean dress. We went in to see what was there (Pat lived in Korea for a while and is fond of Korean food). There is an upscale restaurant on the fourth floor, then a fancy spa for women on the 3rd. I don't know what a single visit costs, but from what I could make out in the brochure, annual membership is upwards of $4,000.

On Wednesday, our shipment arrived. A crew of four brought up our boxes, carried them to the designated rooms, then opened and unpacked them for me. They put together the table, bookcase, and keyboard we had brought. The whole process took about three hours. It was nice to be reunited with our things, especially our winter clothes, as it has turned colder here. (I know many of you don't consider the low 50s to be particularly cold, but it's a very damp sort of cold.)

Thursday was a bit of a circus in the apartment, as I had my Chinese lesson, a workman installed new lights in the kitchen and bathroom, another one "repaired" the TV and yet another came to work on the house phones. Anthony, our relocation representative was here coordinating everything. I must admit that it is a tad bit annoying to be told by a cocky twenty-something male to "be careful" walking down the stairs and when standing on the ladder to clean the air-conditioner filters. We tried out the phones after the phone man left; the one downstairs still didn't ring. Anthony didn't know what to do, so he took both phones with him to "check them out". Granted, we haven't used the phones at all, but they are the only way we have so far to call out of the country. We have the software to set up Skype, which will give us cheaper access to calling the U.S., but we don't have it set up yet.

On Friday I met Marianthe again to do some more exploring. Our first stop was the bookstore at the Sichuan Art Museum, where we browsed for about an hour. Our next stop was the Science and Technology Museum. We saw a large group of students coming out of the museum, with their red and white school jackets, but the entrance was locked and there was no one at the ticket office. The man sitting at the open exit door told us (I think) that the museum was closed until tomorrow.

Marianthe then suggested that we go to Wenshu, a large Buddhist temple on the north side of the city. It was a good choice. The large, park-like grounds were pleasant to walk through. There were monks and other tourists there; enough to make the place seem alive, but not too crowded. We ate lunch at a large vegetarian restaurant within the temple. (It was cold enough that we were glad to get indoors for a while). The menu was in both Chinese and English. We ordered spicy eggplant (very good), mushroom dumplings (ok), and a lotusroot and seaweed soup. The latter came in a large bowl; we both had several helpings, but barely made a dent in it. It wasn't bad, but not something I'd order again. Meanwhile, we drank lots of hot tea and had a good talk.

There is a several block area around the temple with all manner of tourist shops and stalls, so we wandered around looking at what there was to offer. Most of the shops are in old-style buildings, though I think the buildings themselves are probably quite new. After an hour or so of exploring, we were ready to find someplace warm to sit for a while. We were looking for a tea house, but came instead on a modern coffee house, where we ordered cappucino and a latte. They came with glasses of hot water with lemon, which we sipped after the coffee was gone, as we talked on and on, about families, politics, aging, etc. It amused us that the bill for the two coffees (44 yuan) was more than the bill for lunch (40 yuan). The basics here can be very cheap, but luxuries can be expensive.

Dazhou, Xiling Mountain, November 6-9

Dazhou, November 6-7


After my trip to Guizhou, my everyday life in Chengdu seems a bit mundane to write about. I've been working on my Chinese, getting together with friends, cooking, and working a bit on the apartment. For the most part they've been pleasant, moderately productive days.


Last Thursday and Friday I had to take a trip to Dazhou, a city of 6 million about a 5-hour drive to the east, in order to complete my resident's visa. Northeast Sichuan is the part that seems to have been left out of all the guidebooks. Dazhou itself is known for its coal, sulfur, and gas production, which did not seem overly propitious for tourism. On-line I learned about an artificial dead sea which has recently been created along the way, the focal point of a new resort, but swimming in November isn't really my thing. Wanda had offered to go along with me, which would have livened things up considerably, but her passport is still off being processed for her own visa, so she would not have been able to check into the hotel.


They weren't the greatest two days I've spent here, but they went very smoothly. There is a new expressway connecting Chengdu with Dazhou, so the ride was smooth, and there were plenty of clean rest stops. To the west of Dazhou we drove through a hilly agricultural area that is quite attractive. Dazhou itself is right at the edge of the foothills. I was given a business suite at the hotel - a bit of an overkill for one person, with two rooms, two bathrooms, and two TVs. It had windows overlooking two sides of a broad intersection. Compared with Chengdu, the traffic was light and leisurely.


The next morning I was met by two bi-lingual women who would be helping to process my visa. There was another family there from Mark's company for the same reason - a young couple with an 11-month-old son. We were taken to the immigration office, a one-room office along a narrow street filled mainly with small clothing stores. The unfortuante clerk who had to process our applications seemed unfamiliar with English letters, so our two helpers had to stand over him for two hours to get our four applications completed. (Except for the 10 seconds it took to have my picture taken, my presence there was completely extraneous.) Then it was back in the car and another five hours back to Chengdu.



Xiling Mountain, November 9


Mark planned an expedition for us to the ski resort side of Xiling Mountain. We left our apartment at 7:30, at which hour [on a Sunday] we were able to get out of town fairly quickly. It was slightly after 9:30 when we reached the official entrance to the resort, about 12 kilometers beyond the nearest town. At this point it consists of two large parking lots, the ticket office, the WC (clean but definitely not Western), an empty tourist information center, a police station, and the cable car building. There is a hotel under construction and other places being prepared for future buildings. There is a row of vendors offering coats to rent, corn on the cobb and a potato kebab, nuts, and various dry foods and little tourist items, but there is no place to have something hot to drink or to get out of the weather.


The road to the hotels and ski lifts is closed, but it appears undamaged. (Mark thinks that it may be closed until the ski season officially opens.) The one way up to the high flat area housing the ski resort is a cable car. We bought tickets for both cable cars - the one up to the ski resort, and the one from the ski resort to the top of the mountain. The two tickets cost a total of 98 yuan - about $15. The combined price listed on tickets was 240 yuan per person, but that price seems to be for the ski season when the ski lift is included.


The first cable car ride took about 18 minutes, straight up the mountain. The car was roomy - it could easily hold six people, and it was clean, although the windows were sufficiently scratched up that we had to contort ourselves somewhat to appreciate the view. The top of the cable car is located off by itself; there was a bus there to take us along a road to the main resort area. This area has at least three large new resort-hotels; I'm not sure that any of them are open yet. we were let off at an area near the cable car to the upper part of the mountain. From there we could see a pedestrian road up to the top of a grassy slope, where kids could ride tobaggons down on the grass. There is a ski lift to the top of some bunny slopes. It also serves for the top of the longest water slide I have ever seen. This being November, it was closed, but I imagine that the water must be rather cold even in the summer.


The cable cars for the upper lift are large enough for two people max. Since they don't slow down completely for getting on and off, it can be a bit of a scramble. I was thankful for the assistant helping us in the process on either end. Mark and I made it into the car all right, but the assistant was unable to close the door, so Mark had a clear view down to the ground - until the fog became dense enough that it was difficult to see that far. About 10 minutes into this ride we came to another cable station. Since our car was defective, the assistant had us hop out of it and into the next one. I was glad for the door on the next part, since the ride went on for 40 minutes, during much of which it was foggy enough that we could barely see the car in front of us. The tops of ghostly evergreens would loom off to the side of us. I was wearing a sweater, jacket, and raincoat, and was glad for all my layers.


The upper cable car station was off by itself, with a long stairway leading up to a plaza area on top of the ridge. A sign offered various services: accomodations (a two-story building nearby looked like it might have rooms, but probably no heat nor electricity), porters if you would rather be carried than walk, hot tea, food, and local souvenirs. There was one food vendor who was doing a brisk business. Mark bought us some lamb sate. The other offerings appeared to be roasted corn on the cob on a stick, and peeled new potatoes on a stick (then fried).

The posted map showed a circular path. Going to the right took us along the ridge. In about 15 minutes we reached the Yin-Yang divide, so named because on clear days you have a clear view on one side (yang) and fog on the other (yin - hidden). On this day there was no yang, only yin on both sides. We continued on another kilometer or so until we got to a part leading up to the summit. We climbed it because it was there, but again, there was no view to be had.

Most people take the summit path back to the cable station, but Mark wanted to try out the other leg of the circle, which descends about 300 meters. On the good side, we had the path almost to ourselves, passing over some quaint footbridges and through lush green forest. On the down side, we walked down hundreds of steps, only to have to walk back up another set of endless steps. The individual steps were tall enough that it got to be quite an ordeal to go up them. It is a path I will definitely not be going on again.

I was exhausted by the time we reached the top of the ridge and walked back to the cable car. But we still had a long ways to go - 40 minutes down the upper cable car, a long wait for the bus to take us to the lower cable car, then 17 minutes down on that one. When we got to our car, our driver was nowhere to be seen. Mark tried calling him, but could not reach him. He then got a text message from him saying 4:45 (it was then 4:20). So we had to wait, during which time we realized, as our driver had earlier in the day, that there was no place to go inside or get anything hot to drink. At 5:00 Chao finally came rushing up to us - he had gone up the first cable car himself to see the resort. There is also a restaurant there where he could sit indoors for the duration.

One of the problems with exploring new places here is that we not only have to deal with our own day, but also with our driver's. Chao is resourceful and knows the language, but most of these places are new to him as well.

Weekend around Chengdu, Nov. 1 and 2

Mark had spent the previous Sunday back on Xileng mountain. He had gone early, come back late, and had gathered enough information to map out the part of the trail he had hiked. He wants to go back again, this time to the ski resort side, but it didn’t happen this weekend.

On Saturday morning, I stayed home while a workman installed a satellite TV for us (I still haven’t tried it out), and Mark went shopping for a fall coat and a camera case. In the afternoon we walked around the campus of Chengdu Technical University, on the east side of the city. The sun was actually out, and the campus proved to be a pleasant place for a walk, with some tree-lined streets and a large ornamental lake.

Afterwards, we had Chao drop us off at Tazishan Park, a large park on the southeast side of town. It is a heavily used area with a large amusement park, an aviary, and a tall pagoda-like tower which is currently closed. We enjoyed our walk there, but have no great desire to visit it again.

It was not yet 4:00, so Mark wanted to try out another bookstore, this one on the west side of town. It took quite a while to get there since we went through several very congested intersections. This book store was more geared toward school books than Xinhua Book Store, but it also had a good selection of maps. I bought three for Guizhou province (I wish that I had had them the previous week!) and Mark bought a few others. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to drive back home from the book store. Sometimes it is difficult to judge what errands can be combined together; the shortest distance is not necessarily the fastest.

On Sunday morning we had agreed to pick up Vava Kovic an her husband Marijan to go up to Anren, an “ancient town” near Dayi (on the way to Xileng Mountain). It takes about an hour to get to the turnoff for Anren. Anren is advertised along the main road, but the way to it was not well marked, and Chao stopped several times along the way to ask directions. There are several attractions clustered together; he dropped us off near Liu’s Manor House.

The Manor House had belonged to the prominent Liu family. We wandered through the house and its courtyards, saw displays of old furniture – carved wood with ornate inlays, jewelry, and old and new paintings. There was another larger complex next to it that had belonged to a Liu who was essentially a warlord. One of the parlors was labeled as the place where he entertained local tyrants and bandits. There were signs throughout pointing the way to the rent yard clay figures. These turned out to be 114 life-size clay figures that had been created during 1964 and 1965 to depict the peasants’ suffering under the tyranny of the local rent collectors. They were striking figures, all of clay except for beaded eyes giving the figures a penetrating gaze. When the exhibit first opened in 1965, it made quite a hit; replicas of the statues can be seen in Beijing as well.

Included in the ticket is a marriage-customs museum, which is still a work in progress. We were amused at some of the English translations.

Liu’s Manor is a private museum recently developed by a local landowner. I’m not sure what Mao would have thought of having the clay figures depicting the class struggle be the focal point for a private enterprise.

All in all, it was a delightful day. The sun was fully out, but there was still a hint of crispness in the air – probably the nicest weather we’ve had in China. Vava had brought a big lunch of sandwiches, fruit, and cookies, which we enjoyed outside on a bench. There were other people around, but it wasn’t too crowded. We had good conversations, looked at antiques, and bought oranges, apples and peanuts.

We will probably be back in the area again. There is a large museum complex adjacent to Liu’s Manor that will require another day.

Trip to Guizhou III, October 27-30

Monday, October 27: Kaili - Guiyang - Shuitouzhai

There wasn't much of an agenda for this day. We drove into Guiyang - not a bad drive from Kaili, since we had been going in a circle. We stopped at a pharmacy in town to buy me some cold medicine and kleenex (I had a full-blowing cold by this time, and Wanda was feeling one coming on.) We also brought supplies - mostly breads and fruit - for the following day. We then drove about an hour north to the Buyi village of Shuitouzhai. This village is in the early stages of being "beautified" - the paths have been paved and there are wooden signs in Chinese and English, but it still has the feel of a village. Li's boss, Chao, has built a guest house in this village along the river, and that was where we would be staying for the evening. I don't know how I'd feel about a prolonged stay there, but for one afternoon and evening, it was delightful. We walked through the village, then along the river, then across a bridge and up a mountain path. In the evening we walked over to the neighbor's house for dinner. There was a table set up in the front yard for us, and we had four wonderful dishes and newly harvested rice. The man who cooked for us does not officially run a restaurant, but some evenings he will have 5 or 6 tables of people, locals as well as guests.

Tuesday, October 28: Shuitouzhai - Renhua

It was delightful to wake up and look outside at the river below us. Wanda and I sat at a table on the verandah overlooking the river while we drank our coffee and ate an assortment of breads. Since Chao caters to foreigners, this was one of the few places that we could actually get coffee. For most of the trip we had been making do with instant coffee and hot water boiled in our room.

We took a narrow paved road up from Shuitouzhai past a nice waterfall. We eventually wound our way back to the main north-south road, the Guizu Expressway. After years of driving along the Atchafalaya Causeway, I have gotten somewhat blase about road engineering, but this new expressway impressed me. It had at least a dozen bridges, all over 1000 meters in length, connecting mountaintop with mountaintop, each supported by enormous concrete columns. I figured that each bridge probably knocked at least 40 minutes of hairpin curves off the journey. It was far too soon that we left the highway to head west.

After close to an hour of less than prime mountain roads, we stopped at a roadside restaurant, one of two on that stretch. It wasn't much to look at - several rooms of unadorned concrete right along the highway - but we had the best hotpot I've had yet. We had a mushroom-based soup with at least three types of mushroom. While we were eating, Li talked with the restaurant owner and discovered that there was a Miao family living nearby whom we could visit. So after lunch we took a side road up just a short ways to a farm by itself on a mountain slope. I should mention that this afternoon was the only sunny one we had.

We walked down a narrow path to a well-kept white house. The large concrete area in front of the house was covered with rice drying in the sun. We were lead into a small sitting room that also served as a classroom. The dignified man who owned the farm was proud of his Miao heritage and eager to share his knowledge. He put on his festival outfit, as did his wife and two daughters-in-law. We took pictures, then one of the young women swept aside some of the rice so that her father-in-law could dance for us while playing the lusheng, the 6-pipe instrument we had heard at the festival on Sunday. He played very well - much more musical that the dirges we had previously heard. His instrument looked new; we were told that the best ones are made in Chengdu.

We thanked the family for their hospitality, then we were back on the road. Shortly before dusk we crossed a high new bridge over a gorge to arrive in Renhua/Moutai. Li had arranged for us to stay at the Hot Springs Resort there. It turned out that we were the only people staying there. The whole place looked like it had seen better days, especially the bathrooms, but we decided it was adequate for one night. It was a bit strange that we weren't given a key - a young woman staying on the ground floor (was she there just because we had come?) let us in with a key from a large bunch.

Our agenda had included a tour of the Moutai alcohol museum, but Wanda and I both agreed to give it a pass. After all, the hill we looked out on from our room had a giant bottle of Moutai beer (?) on top of it. Just outside of the Resort grounds was a large arched gateway and a bridge over the river that had been closed to traffic. Li and I walked over the bridge; in one direction we could see the new bridge and another one beyond it under construction, which in the other dirction we looked over a hydro-electric dam. This had been the main bridge before the new one had been built - at which time the arched gateway would have been an impressive entrance to the city. As soon as the new bridge had opened, everything but the resort had moved, so we were a bit isolated from the rest of town.

Li had arranged a "bath" for Wanda and me; a giant jacuzzi in the Women's area was filled with hot water just for us. We sat in it for about an hour - a pleasant way to relax. I was about ready to blow off supper, but Li convinced us to go into town. Unfortunately, we got stuck in a giant traffic jam - an area of the main road was being repaired, and was narrow in spots, causing a bottleneck, further aggravated by heavy coal and construction trucks going in both directions. It took us an hour to make it the short ways into town. (We could have walked faster, but it was dark and rainy, and then our driver would have been stuck.)
I was surprised to find that Renhua is a large modern-looking city. We had our choice of many restaurants, but Li picked a hotpot place specializing in duck. He and our driver really liked this local specialty, but when he saw Wanda and me turn up our noses at the fatty soup, he ordered some other dishes for us. Fortunately, but the time we finished the traffic jam had dispersed, and we made it back to our rooms in ten minutes.

Wednesday, October 29, Renhua – Chishui

We woke up to a misty morning, and we had a light rain for most of the day. Li had set up quite a sizable breakfast for us downstairs with various breads, apples, oranges and kiwi, and instant coffee. Then we were on our way, following the Chishui (= Red Water) River. We had left karst behind and were passing through an area of dark red cliffs and soils. We stopped briefly at an area with dramatic waterfalls and cliffs. For lunch we stopped at a restaurant along the river and watched several barges loaded with coal pass quickly by. The Chishui is a tributary of the Yangzi.

Our first real stop was at Be’ang, an “ancient city” known for its part in Mao’s history. He and some of his generals stayed there in 1935. We crossed the Chishui on a length pedestrian suspension bridge high over the water. Be’ang is a cluster of buildings along a narrow flat area part way up a red cliff. There was a cluster of food and souvenir stalls just in front of the gateway to the village, but inside most of the buildings along the street were homes and a few restaurants. There were several small boys running around in and out of the buildings, and a few older people sitting at the open entrances. The focal point for tourism is one building with pictures of the generals, a few exhibits, and an elaborate bed that was used for a time by one of the generals. There was another street above this one, but we were told that it was modern and not for tourists.
When Wanda and I started walking back to the car, Li left us for a few minutes, then came back with a large straw hat, about 3 feet in diameter, with a stiff brim covered with plastic. He presented it to Wanda, who had been admiring these hats (I had a hooded raincoat and an umbrella, so I was not in as much need.) She wore it for a while, though it meant that no one could walk very close to her.

Our main stop for the day was to be a nature preserve with waterfalls, a bamboo forest and giant ferns. However, it was raining heavily enough that neither Wanda nor I was particularly enthusiastic about it. This was just as well, since when we arrived at the gate to the park, the man at the gate told us that the waterfall was off, and the park was closed for the afternoon. The water is diverted to a hydro-electric plant in the afternoons – although in the summers, when there are more tourists, the waterfall is allowed to run for a few more hours.

We took pictures of the waterfalls just outside the entrance, then headed into the city of Chishui for the night. We wandered around for about an hour on the streets around the hotel. There were perhaps a dozen shops specializing in bamboo products, but we didn’t see anything we wanted to buy. There were some nicely made chairs that convert into a small stepladder (we have a larger version out of wood which came from Indonesia). However, the back on the chair had a 6” long brand name on it – “Madein China”. As a brand name, it’s not quite up there with Gucci and Armani.

We ate supper at the hotel: dumplings, pork with chilies, and a mushroom soup with a local mushroom that looked like 3” jellyfish floating in the soup. There wasn’t much to them; once outside the soup, they collapsed into thin pile of fiber. They were interesting but didn’t have much taste.

Thursday, October 30, Chishui – Chengdu

This was the last day of our trip. Wanda had arranged for our drivers to meet us in Luzhou, the first large city across the border in Sichuan. The breakfast buffet had signs in English on much of the food, but didn’t have any food that was even remotely Western. I ate sautéed vegetables and some rice cakes wrapped in bamboo leaves. The two drinks offered were hot orange drink and hot soy milk, so Wanda and I made ourselves some coffee in the hotel room before leaving.

We had a visit to a bamboo forest scheduled for that morning. Wanda thought she had explained to Li that if it was raining (which it was), we wanted to skip the forest and go straight to Luzhou. However, we ended up going to the forest anyway. It would have been a beautiful place on a hot summer day, and even in the cool rain I enjoyed it. There were a few large ferns at the entrance, then the rest of the area was heavily shaded in tall bamboo. We walked up a few steps to a rest area with tables in front of a small waterfall. It was a beautiful, restful place. There was a 700 meter walk – mostly up stairs – to a red cliff overhang. Wanda declined to go, but Li and I made our way up. There was a pagoda and another waterfall on the way. The cliff reminded me of some of the Aboriginal areas I’ve visited in Australia. There was enough of an overhang to provide shelter from the light rain, and there were three small waterfalls flowing over the cliff. In a way, this was a good time to visit it, since in summer there would have been crowds of tourists there, and we would not have gotten the same sense of serenity.

It was only 70 kilometers to Luzhou, but the road was narrow and windy, so it took us a while to get there. We drove over a tall bridge over the Yangzi River, at the edge of the city, but there was so much fog we couldn’t see a thing. Li had never been to Luzhou and he had no idea where the Hotel Eton was, where our drivers had stayed the night before. However, he assured us he had his ways. He got out of our car, got into a taxi, and our driver followed close behind as the taxi went to Hotel Eton. Then, with fond farewells, we were handed over from our Guizhou guides to our Chengdu drivers. Then out Guizhou guides took off, anxious to get out of Sichuan and back to familiar territory.

The Hotel Eton is a nicer hotel than any that we had stayed in on our trip. Wanda decided we should indulge ourselves and our drivers (Mark and Chao) in a lunch at the hotel restaurant. We had a great lunch, including some of the nicest fish I’ve had in China. Then Wanda and I settled back in her van for a smooth ride on the expressway back to Chengdu. We arrived back about 6:00.