Dunhuang.
The hotel had Chinese beds, but was otherwise lovely. They had a breakfast room on the roof that had large glass windows that looked out over the desert. We and several other foreigners agreed that drinks on the roof/veranda would have been a good idea. It was all nicely colonial, though not in such an oppressive way. There were also gardens and space for researchers.
The hotel has drivers and we ended up having the same one for both days we explored the region. His name was Tony Wang (though he was minority). He was young and spoke a tiny bit of English and made an effort to understand my Chinese (I even served to translate for some other guests!), and was really nice. The first day, we went to the Mogao Grottoes, which were wonderful. There is a huge gilded Buddha (3rd largest in China) and the paintings in the caves were in excellent condition. We had an "English"-speaking guide and two other foreigners joined us soon after the tour began. They were Rick and Giles, a father and son, who were staying at our hotel. And they were with the Evil CITS lady! She tried to make small talk with us, but we were standing on the other side of a fence and opted not to join in. Giles lives in Shanghai and his dad was visiting. I was of course quite jealous of Giles for his expat salary and Shanghai nightlife. I can't really begrudge him the salary, as he has marketable skills and he actually seemed really cool (and scruff-ily handsome in a dashing kind of way), but they were leaving that night for Turpan. I gave them some tips on sights there.
Everyone else in the tour group was amazed at the preservation of the paintings and it certainly is impressive, but given the conditions it's not all that surprising (though given China's treatment of its cultural relics -- thank you Cultural Revolution -- perhaps it is). I hated to seem the jaded archaeologist, Eh, it's okay. The paintings really were impressive. The tour could have been a bit more academic(al-T.J.) and there were a lot of people, but I was able to sneak a couple of pictures. There's one of a skeleton that is part of a story. I don't know if it's on this page or not. I'm going to try to put up a link to Mom and Dad's AOL photo album, which has many more pictures. Right, skeleton story. There were three sons heading home from something. They encountered a tiger and her six cubs that were starving. The tigers asked them for food, but they didn't have any, so the first two sons went home. The third son offered his body to the tiger, but she refused (I think), so he threw himself of a cliff or something and then the tigers ate him. Later the dad heard about this or came to get the body or something and there were bones there. I'm not sure what it was supposed to teach us.
After the caves, I asked the driver to take us somewhere local for lunch. He asked if we liked donkey. Mom and Dad said, "No," but after some cajoling, agreed. It was a little hole-in-the-wall and the food was great. More people should eat donkey. To help with the overpopulation problem.
That evening we went to the sand dunes at the edge of the Gobi and rode camels and visited the Crescent Lake (spring). The lake is between two dunes and through some oddity of nature, no sand is blown down into it. Or some wind blows the sand back out. They used to be called the Singing Dunes, but because of the tourists or pollution they no longer sing. I think the fact that I forget half of my stories makes them more charming.
That evening we went to the night market, where there's a big food section and had Chinese for dinner, since Mom and Dad were scared by the local stuff. They were impressed by my ordering and dinner was quite good.
The next day we got up early to go out to the Great Wall and some other ruined places. We met the Racist Swiss Guy and his Chinese wife at breakfast. They seemed nice enough, though after making some comment about immigrants in his country (bad) he said something about American being a melting pot (he was reaching out to us) and Mom commented that we are all immigrants in our country. It was kind of funny(not haha), b/c we had met a German-Czech(Turkish?) girl on the way to Xiahe who had been born in Germany and had lived there her whole life and said that people are happy to talk to her, but when they hear that she's Czech or whatever, they kind of clam up and say things like, "Oh, yes I like immigrants. I have a friend who is from xyz." Sounded familiar.
The Great Wall. "It sure is a great wall." -Nixon. I like to think he was being witty. I wouldn't give the current Bush the same credit, though.
It's actually crumbling down to almost nothing in the west, which makes it cooler. There is a beacon tower and part of the wall enclosed in a fence. I guess they don't want everyone taking home a piece of the wall. What if it was just me, though? They still have the blocks of faggots that were used to light the signal fires on the beacon towers. That really was amazing. There is still straw in them looking fresh. There was also straw used in the statues at Mogao Grottoes, also fresh-looking.
After the Great Wall, we visited a gate out there and the ruined city of Hecang though it was much smaller than the cities of Jiaohe and Gaochang. There was a museum there that had overpriced things for sale, but some of them were really nice and I found a painting of some camels and mountains that was a bit more abstract than the camels and girls (too cute). I ended up bargaining down to less than half the starting price and our driver said that he didn't think I had paid too much. Of course, he's not paid to tell me that I'm an idiot.
That night we went back to the market and found a muslim place that had the Xinjiang noodles and a good beef noodle stew thing. Delicious! We also browsed the market and I got some skull bracelets. One guy tried to sell me one for Y100 and I laughed. He said, "You tell me how much." So I said, "10." He seemed offended, which is odd, considering the place where I ended up buying them started bargaining at Y15. Things went better when we established that Mom and Dad were not to talk to the shopkeepers, as things cost twice as much when they did.
This is getting incoherent and I want to get home and put on my robe.
Bingling Si. The caves are nice, but the scenery around is really amazing. The only way to get there is by boat and only when the river is high enough (no access in winter). Somehow this didn't stop the devil children from gathering there to accost us. Fortunately, we were able to position Avery and Bob between them and us and get away. Avery told them to go back to school.
After the caves we collected our bags at Linxia and got on a bus to Xiahe. It was kind of a last minute decision based on the prospect of staying in the monastery guesthouse. Very Steven Seagal in his capacity as a Buddhist monk, though perhaps his monks have central heat, electricity, running water, and charge more than $1.75 a night. Or perhaps they don't... he is rather hard core. Anyway, ours didn't. We had a coal stove (check out the picture of Dad tending it), an outhouse that ranked pretty low, based on its boards-with-gaps floor construction, and a few hours of electricity at night. The monks were quite stylish in their wraps. A dark burgundy and then a hot pink one, worn together. It snowed that night. Two days before we had been in Jinghong, where it was 100 degrees, and my wardrobe consisted mostly of short-sleeved shirts. Before dinner, we visited some of the shops in town and bought Tibetan coats. The Tibetans wear longer ones with elaborate belts and they only wear them over one shoulder, though the coats have two sleeves. I haven't figured that one out yet. We also picked up scarves to match.
We ate dinner at the Everest Cafe. They serve mostly Indian food and cater to the backpacking/expidition crowd (they run expiditions of some sort). The place was packed with foreigners. I think most of us had been in China for a while, because we all kept staring at each other. It's the first place I've been where the locals (50% tibetan) don't seem to give a damn about the foreigners, but we're too busy staring at each other to appreciate their apathy. The food was great and we worked out how to get back to Lanzhou the next day for our flight to Dunhuang. We asked the wait staff about bus times and a little while later the owner came over saying that they were going to Lanzhou the next day and offered us spaces in the Jeep. Since they could take us directly to the airport, we took them up on their offer.
Dunhuang. We got to the airport and saw someone from our hotel holding two signs with other names on them. Since there were no other foreigners on the plane, we suggested to the driver that he could instead take us to the hotel. Some CITS (China Internal Travel Service) woman asked us if we had booked through her agency and when we told her that we hadn't she tried to convince the driver not to take us to the hotel and instead suggested kindly that we take a taxi. We kindly suggested that she stuff it. Wouldn't that have been great? The driver and porter put their heads together and, presented with a new situation that required a decision, came up with something. Not very Chinese of them, but then they were minority. Haha! The CITS woman hadn't counted on independent thought! The driver took us back to the hotel, which was done in the style of the old Dunhuang, with fabulous, fortress-like architecture. The whole thing was so un-Chinese. We later found out that it was run by a foreign group based in HK.
Anyway, I've been teaching for a while and it's time to go home. Amy, the helper girl is such an innefectual idiot. She forgot to tell me that I was tutoring Duoduo and his cousin on Friday, so I sent his cousin home. Then on Saturday, she tried to explain what had happened and it ended up a "Who's on First, What's on Second" thing. Angel was cracking up by the time we were done. And her communication is terrible. It's not that she's stupid, or can't speak English (though she can't when you need her to). It's just somehow, she is the binggest idiot in the world. I am currently trying to explain why Julian wants a door and windows instead of plywood walls in his apartment. It would make more sense if you were here.
The next morning, we set out to Bingling Si, which meant hiring a mini-bus to Liupanshui or possibly Liutiansomething (towns across the Yellow River from each other) and then a boat out to the site. We got to the dock and everyone was amused by our presence. The guys at the noodle place ripped us off, which was actually a surprise, as they don't usually do that with noodles. After which we used one of the worst bathrooms I've ever seen for which we were also ripped off. The "town" sucked. Then we talked to the boat operators. One woman was trying to rip us off (in addition to quiet obviously laughing at us all through lunch. don't people understand that laughter doesn't require translation?!), but we went with a guy who gave us a fair price. Actually, it was pretty funny. He initially said it would be Y100, which I of course said was too much. Then he started to say 50 as I was starting to say 80. I immediately stopped and said 50 was fine. He was taking two other passengers and so he went over to the port on the other side of the Yellow River, but the people weren't ready. There were four Han Chinese women (the townspeople were Muslim) there who wanted to cross the river back to the initial port and he told them it would be Y50. He was charging us the same price for about two hours on the boat. The women objected and said that he was ripping them off, but they only ended up kind of agreeing on Y40. When we got back to the first side, there was some kind of dispute and a woman handed him a 100 and took a 50 from him and they stalked off. We still had to go pick up the two other passengers and a Muslim man got on to go to the other side (it's all the "other side". i don't feel like thinking). When the guy got off, he gave the driver Y2. The driver said that he liked us, so he was giving us a good price. In his defense, the women were being snobbish. There's not much love lost between the Han and the minorities (Muslims, especially).
The two passengers we picked up were brothers-in-law. One lived in Shanghai (expat), and the other in California (with the first one's sister). We kind of thought they were a couple at first. They were really nice and the one had been living in Shanghai for six years and spoke Chinese rather well. They had just been to the Mogao Grottoes and were able to give us some information about Dunhuang. Bingling Si (buddhist grottoes, named after a Buddhist monastery nearby) has a couple of hundred "caves", though some are merely niches, and a large Buddha measuring oh, I don't know, about 15 meters high. There's a terrible, evil pricing system where the general entry is Y30 (Y8=$1) and then the other caves are grouped in couples each pair with its own (exorbitant) entry fee. The best two caves cost Y300. It would probably cost about Y500 to see it all. Fortunately, since Avery and Bob had just been to Dunhuang they advised us that the caves there are so impressive that it wouldn't be worth it to see these ones.
Anyway, fabulous time. Mom and Dad arrived in HK on the 18th or so and I came on the 22nd. Then on the 26th we went to Jinghong. On the 29th we went to Gansu: first to Linxia, then to Bingling Si and Xiahe, and then we flew up to Dunhuang.
HK: As I said below, it was great. So First World. We went out for French food my first night there. It was really good. Kiffie loaned me a dress and shoes, so I could look presentable. It was a nice change to get looked at for looking decent rather than being a foreigner. The food was fabulous. I ordered the cheese plate, and though meunster was not in season, there was another strong soft cheese -- Saint-Alban(?) that was excellent.
My cousin Greg's friend Max works at the Ritz and he sent a bottle of wine to the room. As I mentioned below, they had croissants at breakfast, and they were good. Paris quality, I would venture to say. The hotel was lovely and the doormen (bouncers) even let me in with my backpack. Perhaps they figured I might clean up well.
The next day or possibly the day after we went to Macau. If you will refer to your Lonely Planet China or HK, you will notice that all the charmingly colonial shots of Macau are rather tight. Finding a lovely section that's more than 20' by 20' would be a challenge on Macau. There's a nice colonial section with beautiful architecture and old buildings. There is also the facade of a ruined cathedral at the top of a hill. The whole church burned down, but the facade stayed and is now anchored in place. Nearby was the Macau Museum, which was well done, and some fort that afforded views of the city. Which is almost a pity, as it now resembles any other Chinese city.
After visiting another park there, Mom, Dad, and I agreed that the place was a let down and pulled out the guidebook to see what we could do to salvage the rest of the day. There are two islands south of Macau, Taipa (or something) and Coloane. The former got bad reviews- just the same old Chinese architecture thing, but Coloane was described as a joy to walk through, so we got on a bus headed there.
On the bus, I was reading an English composition over the shoulder of a young girl. The English was what you would expect from a young girl in an English speaking country -- the best I've seen in China. When the bus was nearing Coloane and Mom, Dad, and I were talking about dinner (or maybe it was just me), the girl turned around and in perfect English asked us if we were heading to Coloane. Turns out her father lived in Canada for 35 years and English is her main language. She said her Chinese is not so good.
She showed us to a nice restaurant on a square in front of a church. We spent the afternoon wandering around the island, which was really beautiful. The center of town was small pastel houses with narrow alleyways running between them. We walked down past the pier to see where they made junks, though the "junkyard" dogs (that was terrible) weren't quite as friendly as the island's other inhabitants. There is a wealthy British expat community there. It was kind of weird. Triads, too, though we didn't necessarily see them. We spoke to a British woman who owned an antiques shop there, selling things she had bought in China in bad condition, and then refinishing them. It would have been a good place to do shopping, as most "old" things sold in China these days are mass-produced. I have her card.
Jinghong was godawful hot. There was a nice gold-covered temple in a park. There was also a Chinese tourist "Primeval Forest". Very interesting for Mom and Dad, Chinese culture-wise. An elephant in chains, a monkey on a string, a boa constrictor that was most likely drugged... all available for photos. I think that's where M&D first noticed the Chinese women hiking in 3" heels. It's like going from foot-binding to New Balance would have been too great a shock, so they are taking intermediate steps.
The town itself was most useful for its chilling opportunities.
Off to dinner.
Last night was Mom and Dad's first night on a Chinese bed. They didn't wake up this morning until the maid knocked on the door at 10:30. My dad commented that he felt like he had gotten no sleep, though it was closer to 12 hours. Refer back to my previous journals for my comments on Chinese beds.
HK was wonderful. The Ritz is The Ritz. Frette bath robes, chocolates and turned down beds, croissants, chocolate and regular, for breakfast, waiters who remember what beverages you ordered the day before, shoes that fit(!!!), and western food. It was painful to leave. Especially since just about the first thing that happened was that my bottle of port was confiscated at the airport, b/c they want you to buy their alcohol. I was furious on principle. And alcoholic-wise. You go through security, they confiscate your alcohol, and twenty feet later they have a counter selling lower-quality alcohol for twice the price. Then a lovely disgruntled Austrailian expat happened by and said, "I f---in' hate the Chinese." He's my imaginary friend.