Xian and Beyond

From Susan
Starting on 10/19-21/08

So now I'll tell you about what Leah won't, the non deluxe train trips. When we jumped the train in Datong, I let the CITS agent book the cheapest seat to Beijing with the balance of our ticket, hard seat.



After seeing the glazed tile nine dragon screen, we found one of the lesser temples under restoration. One quick loop through the grounds showed us a five dragon screen off the courtyard. We ran for the train to find that hard seat means "with humanity one rides". There were about 180 of us on the carriage. Two manly young men helped boost our 75 + pound bags to the upper rack; then we sat and sat. I bought pomegranate from the aisle vendor and watched the landscape. We then got a new seat mate who didn't have much to say, but was photogenic.



He wore the typical ass out romper for toilet training, but we did not buy him. At the next stop 70 more people were added to the aisle. They had purchased tickets with no assigned seats simply to return for the work week in Beijing. Leah was not well for this.

We spend two days in Beijing shipping heavy clothes used in Mongolia and enjoy some of the simple life of the park and the hutong.




I arrive only slightly worse for the wear. Buying milk on the way to the hotel, a grandmother at a stand tries to charge me 5 Y, for being western. I drop the pouch, back off from the stall. Her ever weary 50 something son sighs at his mother and sells it to me for 2 Y. Gotta watch those elders. I convence them we need to check in at 9 AM. Leah takes a spa day. Our respective Xian posts are earlier in the blog.

Down South

Everywhere I go in China, people are very trim and look healthy. Vendors sell fruits and nuts on the streets for snacks. On the trains, people snack on seeds and fruit, and drink bottles of green tea. They eat very little dairy or sugar. Meals are almost all vegetables, with small pieces of meat, a few ounces per portion, thinly sliced. It is considered poor form to eat one's rice before the main dish; rice is a filler, for afterwards. Desserts are tiny -- a few bites, and without the intense sweetness of American dishes.

The lack of dairy seems to be a problem in the village. We see old people who are terribly bent over from osteoporosis.



Some of the food I made that day.



Our cooking school.






Yes, it's true. Those are dogs.



Bunnies and chickens. You choose,and they slaughter on the spot for you.



Pigs' snouts.



Pigs' tongues.



Green teas.



She stands over a bowl of goji berries. They are rare and expensive in the States, but common here, and a great garnish for food, with a sweet/sour taste.



The vegetable at bottom right is loofa sponge. It is edible when picked young and tender.



Live frogs in net bags.



Food is laid out on mats. Everyone crouches on the floor for transactions.



Chopping the heads off of snails. They are easier to eat that way.




I take a trip into a town for a one-day cooking school. First we walk through the local market. The produce is in large quantities, incredibly varied, clean and of wonderful quality. Prices are impossibly cheap. The abundant, inexpensive food of this country is a great key to its success.





This was our chance to absorb the life of the Chinese countryside, and to rest after
frenetic Shanghai. But the rabid consumerism that has spread through this country is also here, in the town of Yangshou, nearby. Everywhere people approach us to sell their wares, relentless. On the television, advertising takes up most of the time. I sense a silent, official push to increase demand and public spending. Advertising seems even more like propaganda here. We are grateful to be outside of town. The village is peaceful. Evening comes.



This one looked abandoned, but we saw people living on their boats.









rafts made of bamboo.









We spent a day kayaking down a tributary of the Li river.






The buildings are hand pounded mud brick. This woman was covered with flies that fluttered when she moved.









Wwe are staying in this converted farmhouse outside of Yangshou, in southeastern China. Behind us is a small farming village. This area is about forty degrees south of Houston, and quite tropical. We are only about a hundred miles from Hanoi.

Everywhere there are small family plots filled with thriving crops. The ground is fertile and rainfall is abundant.



It is hard to imagine the profile of these karst mountains. They are made of limestone, and filled with faults that allow water to seep through and erode them from the inside. At one ancient time, this entire area was level at the elevation of the tops of these mountains. We have found the source of the immpossibly shaped mountains in old Chinese scrolls, those tall, u-shaped humps that I had thought were fantasy.