Journal Entry 36

August 17th, 2004

"One Final Plunge"

 

Japan and Korea were a bit too orderly for me. That, coupled with some other reasons, led me to dive back into China for one last dose (really, this time) of Asia. Destination: Chengdu. I ferried 16 hrs from Korea to coastal China, guidebook-less. Then a 5-hr bus, and a one-day stopover in Qingdao because I barely missed the train I was shooting for.

Qingdao is the home of China's most famous brewery, Tsingtao beer. I did a tour of the factory and learned that, perplexingly, the company was started in 1897, in China, by Germans and Brits, with an investment of 400.000 Mexican silver dollars...how does that work? Anyway, afterwards, it was all the free beer you could drink, ensuring that my 42-hr train journey started off on the right foot.

It was great being back in China. Cheap, good food. Friendly people. The smell of coal. The long train journey on hard-seat class (lowest possible) was great, mostly because I seem to have perfected this semi-comatose state of mind where you just sit, and quietly observe life happening. Chengdu is quite far inland, and the 2-day, 2-night train journey alternated from flatlands to steep terraced hills dotted with salmon-coloured brick houses, passing through countless tunnels.

I arrived in Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan province, on July 30, and was greeted by Nicole, the Swiss girl I traveled with at the end of my New Zealand trip. Three days in Chengdu...teahouses, Sichuan opera, meeting my friend Richard (met two years ago traveling in China), Sichuan food (mmm...mmm...). And a visit to the Panda Rehabilitation Center. This was awesome...apparently the best spot in the world to see these lazy playful creatures. We saw maybe 15 of them!

We left Chengdu, and spent the next week and a half traversing the eastern side of the Tibetan plateau, not in Tibet proper, but the ethnically Tibetan regions of the provinces of Sichuan and Qinghai. Much of our time was spent above 4000m (13000ft) and we had a decent dose of altitude sickness in the town of Ganzi.

I spent six weeks in Tibet earlier on my trip. My only wish was that I could see a bit more of the eastern side, and that I could see it in spring or summer, when it wasn't deathly cold and the drab colour brown. My wish came true.

Of all the places I've visited, few are more stunning than these high-altitude grasslands filled with huge rolling green hills, backdropped by 6000-7000m (20000ft) snow-capped peaks. Monasteries and stone/wood Tibetan buildings dot the countryside amid fields of barley, and flowers of blue and yellow and white and violet. Herds of yaks and occasional herders' tents complete the picture.

The highlight was the time we spent (3 days) at a small guesthouse adjacent to a tiny monastery. Our hosts were two friendly peaceful smily monks who cooked up great meals in addition to the traditional tsampa (barley and butter and tea) and butter tea. From our place, we could go up on the roof and see a dozen villages, monasteries, nunneries, and many ruins as well...not to mention the mountains.

We went on hikes, visited the nearby hot springs (natural) every evening, and attended puja (Tibetan prayer, chanting) at a few monasteries. It was heaven. Might move here.

We had to continue on, however. The route to Xining, in all, took 5.5 days of solid travel on horrid roads, going as high as 5000m (16500ft). Some of the towns had a real "wild West" feel...dusty roads littered with Tibetans in cowboy hats, everyone just hangin' out. We finally emerged in civilization again: Xining.

This city is a mix of Chinese and Muslim, with a scattering of Tibetans. Spent four days there, visiting markets, hanging out, eating. Our favourite place was a mini-hotpot restaurant where your food is cooked in cast-iron pots over a blast furnace that shoots out a meter-long flame like a jet engine.

Having been born on Friday the 13th, I've always considered it a lucky day for me, and this year it happened to fall on Friday again. It was a great day! Somehow, the realization hit me that this is my third summer away from home. That is a strange strange feeling.

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Much of these last few weeks were off the beaten track a bit, which always tends to enrich the experience somehow. In general, we were quite a bit more of a novelty than usual. A few stories are perhaps worth mentioning:

* At our room at the monastery, one morning, five young Tibetan nuns barged in and inspected our belongings. They found my photos and had a riotous time passing them back and forth. They giggled especially loud at the picture of an Irian Jayan man wearing a dickstick.

* We met some Tibetan farmers on one of our hikes. They were resting and eating and invited us to join them for tea and hard bread and yogurt. In exchange, we gave them a tomato and shared our Vegemite (like Marmite). They were suspicious at first, but seemed to enjoy it, after digging it out of the jar with a stick they picked off the ground. I have a fantastic picture of this encounter that I'll get on the web page, someday.

* On a bus, an old Tibetan dude was curious about a bottle of jam that I had in a mesh pocket on the outside of my pack. I gave it to him to look at. He opened it, looked inside, sniffed. I motioned for him to take some. He stuck a dirty finger inside, looked at it, and proceeded to wipe it on his cheek. I shook my head, and indicated he should eat it. He did, decided he liked it, and decided to keep the bottle as well, folding it into his cloak. I got it back...after a while.

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Nicole and I both left Xining on 15 August, heading in opposite directions, so I'm on my own again. A new journey of sorts begins for me now. I do believe I'm actually going to leave Asia for good this time.

"Everything is good in moderation, including moderation" (Unknown) )

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