We’ve been back almost a week now and I still feel like I’m catching up from jetlag. This is the first time I’ve returned from Asia and not from Europe and the 16 hour time difference is proving hard to get over for me.

It’s been a different world since we got back. Capitol Hill, our usual high-energy haunt, feels empty and bland in comparison to the hustle and bustle of Chinese streets. Bikes aren’t racing up and down the sides of streets and I can walk down the sidewalk without rubbing shoulders with anyone. It’s like I’m an individual again.

We’ve still got a little bit of China left in us though. The day we returned, Bram told the woman selling “Real Change” outside of QFC, “不要!” (bu yao!), which is like saying ‘no’ to all the street vendors in China. It took me a couple seconds to register before I doubled over laughing. Ahh China, how I miss thee…

I’ve got all my photos posted up now—a month’s worth of travel in 158 shots. Enjoy!

Beijing (北京) - Microsoft Offices

Beijing (北京) - Gawking

Chengdu (成都) - Sichuan and loving it!

Leshan (乐山) - Giant Buddha

Jiuzhaigou (九寨沟) - They're so bluue!

Songpan (松潘) - Horse Trekking

Hong Kong (香港) - Back in the west

One of the comments that I keep getting goes along the lines of, “your Mandarin must be getting really good!”

Yes and no. Now that we’ve made it to Hong Kong, where Cantonese is king and everyone speaks English anyway, I can look back in hindsight about my Mandarin experience in mainland China. Admittedly, I think I’m feeling a little disappointed.

Mandarin is a tough language, especially in the reading and writing department, which consists largely of rote memorization. After a year+ of studying it, I feel that I can only speak well enough to travel on and my writing and reading are atrocious from lack of (time to) practice. In comparison to a language like Spanish, this is depressing—it only took me two months of self-study in Europe to get enough of the language to travel on. Maybe I’m being a little harsh on myself, but I had hoped to be a little stronger.

In many ways, this is apples and oranges and an unfair comparison, Mandarin really is a tougher language. The biggest benefit to my Mandarin has been the confidence boost that I’ve received from using this language day in and day out—I can actually get my point across in most situations and people understand me. I’m going to return home with a willingness to actually use and actively practice my language skills with native speakers, instead of being meek about my untested skills.

At this point, I feel that the biggest overall barrier for me is vocabulary. While I’ve been gaining new words at a rapid rate and my listening comprehension improving by the day, I find myself guessing at the gist of conversations and picking out known phrases and words more than I like. A few days ago, a realization struck me. I’ve been walking around with a Berlitz Chinese-English Dictionary, filled with over 40,000 entries across both languages. As I thumbed through the English portion of the dictionary, it dawned on me that there wasn’t an English single word I didn’t know and a great many of which I consider core to my English skills. At best, I only know a few hundred words in Chinese. The path to fluency looks so long! They say that you need to know about 1500 unique Chinese characters before you’re at a totally fluent level. This is actually several orders of magnitude more in vocabulary—1500 characters don’t include the various permutations and combinations that form words.

I’m excited to get back and continue my studies. I’ve got a lot of ground to cover.

Talk to anyone who’s traveled through China and they’re sure to mention the loads of cheap, illegally produced DVDs. They’re cheap—incredibly cheap. A DVD-5, which is mediocre to good quality can be had for 50 to 75 cents each and (H)DVD-9, which is a true DVD copy, is usually just over a dollar.

On my first trip through the country in 2005, large shops were easily found in every city I went to, with vast selections of DVDs in multiple languages. I’ve heard of crackdowns over the years, but they seemed sporadic and random—as if the Chinese government was doing some CYA raids but still largely turning a blind eye.

Perhaps I was wrong. On this trip, the shops have disappeared almost entirely. Though you can find street vendors at night selling DVDs out of a box, the selection has been very limited. On Wednesday, I walked into the hostel here in Chengdu and asked them where I could find a real DVD shop. I was pointed to an area known here as Computer Street and told to go check the 4^th floor. Bram, Dave, and I went there together and waded through the zillions of hardware vendors selling every computer related part under the sun. Eventually, a woman walked by muttering, “DVD, DVD” under her breath. I didn’t pay her much attention at first, but Dave later accidentally made eye contact with her, bringing her over. Knowing how these things more or less work from prior experience, I told Bram and Dave to follow her.

What a trip. She took us up the elevator as far as it would go, the 7^th floor. Then, she walked out and turned down a hallway filled with small random offices, then turned again into a stairwell. I started to wonder if the situation was about to turn bad, but decided to trust my initial instinct as we headed up to an unknown 8^th floor. We walked through the hallway of some more offices and eventually banked a left into exactly what I was looking for, a full-fledged DVD shop. I was pretty amazed—these places have really gone underground.

Bram and Dave got really excited and combed through the full selection of the shop. All of us ended up with a decent collection. Dave’s curiosity about Chinese pornography got the better of himself on a couple of his picks and in retaliation, partially in jest, I picked up a copy of The Ten Commandments with Charlton Heston (yes, dad, the same ten ko bun mung :)).

At the rate we watch movies, we’ve got enough to last months.

Reddit linked to a fantastic ad produced by the WWF China today. It’s a disturbing picture of how much pollution a car puts out in a day, captured in a single balloon, the “Black Cloud.”

It’s a disturbing image, considering the millions of cars on the roads there, it’s no wonder that Beijing and China has the pollution that they do, magnitudes greater than LA, the worse city in the US. I played Rugby here today at Sichuan University in Chengdu (thanks Sarah, I love the game!) and I can feel the dryness in my throat from all the pollution.

But the more I think about this, the more I believe that the US and the western world are in an incredibly privileged position not to have the pollution problems that face other countries. We’re able to outsource our manufacturing needs to other places like China, who are eager for the business, but also inherit the byproducts of producing stuff—pollution. China is getting more conscious about their environment now, which means environmental controls, restrictions, and also increased prices. Where’s the next source of cheap labor and pollution destination? Africa?

The root issue here is that humans are immense consumers. Arguably, this is part of the human condition, but the method by which we’re going about this is not smart—non-renewable supplies, incomplete ecosystems, and dirty techniques. We have a long way to go if we want to continue inhabiting this world.

When I did the Tiger Leaping Gorge hike back in 2005, I ran into a Jordan, a traveler with this awesome story about going out on a horse for a few days with a guide and going to see this place called Ice Mountain. It sounded amazing—rural areas, scenic, horses. If only I had the time to do it!

Two years later, I finally did. Dave and I did a three day horse trek to Ice Mountain that simply surpassed my expectations. We were a group of four people and four horses, one for Dave, I, and our two guides. Within 15 minutes of leaving Songpan we were really in rural China, following foot and horse trails that winded up and down the hills that eventually border with Tibet. Yaks, lambs, and the occasional small Tibetan village were the extent of the company, paired with an unimaginable view.

Though the nights were freezing, we stayed with a Tibetan family in their home—the sister of one of our guides. This was a hugely unexpected bonus (I was expecting tents) and I fulfilled one of my goals of staying with a family in a foreign country. I was able to witness what life is like for a Tibetan farmer living in the middle of nowhere, a life worlds different than my own. A humbling experience starting from their very appearance, every person we met had rough windblown faces with bright red cheeks and a head of thick coarse hair. The house seemed nice by local standards and had a traditional plated stone roof and had a barn on the first floor. There was even a satellite dish for TV reception. We stayed in a simple guest room with a couple of beds padded with yaks wool and lamb skins with an array of blankets that managed to keep us warm during the cold nights.

We were fed in the local diet, which involved a lot of starches (thick dense bread, potatoes, lots of other starches, some veggies, and not much meat), drank Chinese Rice Liquor for alcohol (think engine degreaser), and sipped a tea that can only be called “earthy” (after three days with horses, you can imagine what I’d consider to be the taste of “earthy”). Let’s go ahead and call it an experience, but one I was very happy to have done. I’m very thankful for who I am and what I have.

We arrived at our destination of getting a clear crisp view of Ice Mountain midway through the second day and stopped for lunch. We built a small fire to commemorate the occasion, burning the small dry tundra bushes that covered the landscape. I thought we would be getting closer to Ice Mountain, perhaps its base, but at the same time I’m glad I didn’t have to endure that particular cold.

After spending the night again with the Tibetan family, we started back for Songpan on day 3. Something I ate didn’t totally agree with me, but any queasiness I was feeling was accentuated by the horse ride. One of my stirrups had broken, which meant that I wasn’t able to keep a stable position in the saddle as the horse walked and trotted. In short, my softer bits were getting slammed up against the front of my saddle over hundreds and thousands of steps. One of the guides managed to fashion a replacement stirrup over lunch, which was a huge relief.

I still wasn’t feeling too well after getting back to Songpan though—later that afternoon I found myself cold and shivering uncontrollably. Jordan and John will remember that a similar thing happened to me after Tiger Leaping Gorge, so this wasn’t a major concern. (Dave suspects that this may have actually been altitude sickness, which is highly surprising to me—needs research). To help my recovery, Dave and I checked ourselves into the nicest hotel in town (about $12 each), which afforded me a nice big bed, a pair of down comforters, and a hot shower. I was feeling pretty good when we got up at 5am to make our 9 hour bus (ugh) back to Chengdu.

And what better way to cap off 9 hour bus ride?

Five hours at the spa.

Doing some catch-up on stories here tonight. It’s the first time I’ve been at a computer in some days.

Thanks much to my friend Sarah, who’s studying in Chengdu for the year, Dave and I were recommened a local Chinese spa. Dave has been sold on this whole getting massages thing ever since I told him about the pricing here and after last night, I think he’s turning into a bit of an addict.

We decided to rent bikes from the hostel around six in the evening and bike over there. Biking is quickly become a trip highlight–weaving in and out of traffic with cars, scooters, and other bicyclists is really a lot of fun. Sure, it’s dangerous, but when in Rome… (Have fun, take risks!)

We found the place, He Ri Zhun, and waltzed inside. We were told to take our shoes off and we exchanged them for a pair of sandals and a wristband with an ID number and a locker key. We were then pointed to the locker room. As we walked down the stairs, Dave makes some comment along the lines of, “I wonder if we’re going to do this naked?” I shrug. Dave’s locker came up first, but my locker was on the far side of the room, which meant I got to walk pass the entrance to the room with all the pools. I glanced inside and holy shit, yep, they’re all naked in there. It’s foggy (I’d say steamy, but then this might become an entirely different kind of story), so I can’t see very clearly, but the most clothing I can see is one guy that has this mostly-transparent nylon stocking thing poorly covering his member.

I break into a grin. Not like that (sickos!), but more like one of those: Yep, I’m in China, I’m getting led to my locker where this guy is watching me undress so he can hang my clothes up for me, and this is going to be an experience. Just then, I hear Dave yell at me, “Hey Mike?!” “Yeah?” “Dude, I’m totally naked! Are you naked? I can’t tell what this guy is telling me.” “Yep, I’m naked too!”

We’re led into the main room and asked to shower. Dave, getting past the whole naked thing, says, “I want a massage while I’m here, but I don’t want it to be done by some guy.” It was at that moment I surveyed the corner of the room next to the showers and saw two rows of massage table things, with a bunch of naked Chinese men laying on various sides of their body, getting well, scrubbed and rubbed down rather furiously by, well, other men.

My head whipped around in some kind of shame reflex for having looked at this scene. My grin, which basically disappeared the moment Dave and I walked into the main area when the staff members decided to spectate at us foreigners, turned into a solid OMG WTF. I shower, mostly facing at the wall but admittedly glancing over to confirm what I already knew. Eventually, I get past this, and rotate between one of fifteen pools and two saunas, but declined the 15 kuai (about $2) offer to have it done to me.

Later, we emege from the pools and are given scrubs to wear around. By this point I’ve understood enough of the local Chinese to understand that there’s other stuff for guests here, including a TV room, music room, pool, computers, and ping pong for free. Dave and I opt for the TV room and end up watching a Jet-Li flick from his pre-Hollywood days. Ahh, Kung-Fu movies, easily understood, sans translation, the world round. While watching, we noticed some people getting foot massages, so we ask for the same and pretty soon we’re having our feet rubbed down for the second time on this trip, wearing PJs, lounging on big lay-z-boys, and eating complimentary fruit off toothpicks.

I’m feeling pretty damn good at this particular juncture, but Dave wants to go big here and get the full body massage too. Ahh, what the heck. We go up to the fourth floor and before we know it we’re getting a full-body Chinese massage. My second of the trip. Just because I know someone out there is curious, we were careful to pick a respectable establishment–no happy endings, thankyouverymuch.

Sometime later, we emerge, feeling like something akin to jello. And what’s the bill for four hours at a spa, including a 30 minute foot rub, an hour back massage, and a little something to eat?

About 20 bucks.

Dave and I have made it to the small city of Jiuzhaigou, known for its famous blue mineral lakes. I had missed this on my last time through China and was turned onto it by Steve Lloyd, a fellow traveler on the Tiger leaping Gorge hike, who remarked that it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. I researched it a little bit and discovered that some of my family members have also been here, with raving comments.

Jiuzhaigou is not exactly the easiest place to get to–it’s a 12 hour bus ride from Chengdu through winding mountain roads. The views are absolutely stunning and spectacular, but I’m not a fan of long-distance bus travel, especially when I have sinus pressure in my head from a slight cold I’ve picked up from somewhere. Rail remains my favorite.

My friends may have noticed that I only mention “Dave and I” in the first sentance–after we arrived in Chengdu and counted out our days, it became apparent that a little over two weeks for Chengdu, Jiuzhaigou, Songpan, and Lhasa was simply not enough time. Lhasa in particular requires 2.5 days of travel time round trip, plus transportation to various other destinations in Tibet (Lhasa itself is a bit touristy). Cost was also an issue.

In the end, Bram was particularly bullish on Lhasa and we encouraged him to tackle it without us, while Dave and I remained in Sichuan. Bram is having a great time up there at 12,000+ feet at a place where the humidity can actually go negative (someone explain how that works?). Unfortunately, one of Bram’s desires (and mine, one of these days), going to the Everest basecamp, will not be fesibible, just due to acclimization and travel time.

It’s the dawn of a new day here in Beijing. Dave and Bram have finally arrived, after being delayed a day due to engine trouble (and subsequent flight cancelation). As a result, I got myself an extra day in the office to wrap things up, but now I’m headed off into the vacation phase of my trip. Yipee! Expect blog posts to slow down a bit as I start running around, but I’ll hope to keep you all updated!

Some teaser photos—I’ve got loads more but I had to share these.

Have fun, take risks. Riding a bike in Beijing, at night, with a passenger sitting on the rack. Fun, check! Risk, check!

Hotpot!!

Though I’ve had Skype for ages and used it on and off, this is the first trip that I’ve actually made regular use of it to talk to people at home. It rocks! Since I have a laptop on this trip with Bluetooth capabilities, I’ve been able to use my Bluetooth wireless headset to chat with people all over the world.

Yesterday I even managed to get Skype for Windows Mobile to work on my T-Mobile Dash smartphone. Skype Mobile requires WiFi, which the Dash has built in and which my hostel provides. I successfully had a conversation with my dad last night for free, which is better than the ~5 cents USD a minute I’d pay if he was to call me directly. Skype Mobile is in beta, so there are a couple of quirky usage issues, but by-and-large this is a fantastic product.

Interestingly enough, Skype-to-Skype conversations from here in China have about a 4 second round trip latency, but using SkypeOut to call direct to a phone number is basically lag free. At 1.7 euro cents a minute, this isn’t a big deal for me.

WiFi, has started to become pervasive in hostels around the world. I’m beginning to see them as features on HostelWorld, which is pretty cool. It seems like it’s pretty popular here in Beijing as well, I’ve seen many open wireless points.

I wish there was more of a café scene though—while there are some Western-style coffee joints like Starbucks and equivalent knockoffs, they’re social gathering places, not places to work and study. Actually, the Chinese refer to these places “little capitalism” or 小资. They’re very expensive by Chinese standards. A McD value meal is about $2.80, but I can go to a local place and get filled on 50 cents. Nonetheless, they are filled with people. I suspect it’s a huge status symbol thing. Many of customers are trendy students.

One of the things I keep talking about and telling people about this trip to China is how much tamer life is here in Beijing. Traveling has gotten quite a bit easier. For example…

• Western toilets are everywhere. Seriously, I have not seen a single squat toilet yet and honestly I kind of miss it.
• Restaurants give you napkins. Say what? Not only do I not have to ask for them, I also don’t have to pay for them. They’re decent napkins too, not those little packets of Kleenex.
• Restaurant menus are filled with pretty color pictures and often decent English translations.
• People smoke less.
• People spit less.
• People on the street don’t just randomly lean over, clamp a nostril, and blow their nose all over the sidewalk. And you wonder why Asian households are so particular about taking your shoes off at the door.
• Cabs use turn signals (no way!)
• Cab drivers get nervous if they accidentally ran a yellow light—it’s forbidden.
• All those old cabs and busses that used to choke you as they drove by have largely been replaced (as expected for the Olympics) with shiny Hyundai Elantras and shiny new busses. I do mean shiny—I’ve heard they’re washed daily.
• The sky is blue in Beijing! I saw the moon and even stars last night.
• Streets are kept cleaner—litter isn’t everywhere and the crumbled remains of those coal bricks used for heating, which used to litter the sides of alleyways, have completely disappeared.
• People line up. Seriously. There’s no mob to buy tickets at the subway stations. On the big streets people even line up to get on their bus (with some guidance from women standing there to help)
• People stand on the right side of escalators and allow people on the left to pass.

I have no doubt that many of these societal changes are centered in Beijing for the Olympics, but a recurring question keeps popping into my head—how do you train an entire society? It’s an immense sociology problem that’s being tackled here—18 million people live in Beijing.

I’ve heard that TV commercials here are now littered with moral slogans, such as, “I’m happy to queue” (translated) and the equivalent of “keep Beijing pretty.” I’ve definitely seen posters in subway stations telling people how to stand on the escalators. Certainly some of the impact has to do with the society and governing style, but I’m still very impressed to see real results.