Well, I've been in Peace Corps for a month now, and Tanzania almost that long. I'm only just starting to get a feel for the culture, but that's okay, I have a long time I can learn. :)
My homestay house is much snazzier than I'd expected. I didn't think I'd have electricity, but in fact not only do they have electricity, but also a television, and satellite TV. (No, it doesn't get American channels. But STILL.) There's no running water, but I think that's just because it's the dry season.
I've been learning lots of Swahili, and this week I started teaching math at my CBT (Community-Based Training) school.
I'm sure there's tons of interesting things I could mention-- I'll have to start jotting down the funny/bizarre things that happen so that next time I'm at the internet cafe, I'll have a list right there to jog my memory.
Oh, you should know: I have internet on my phone! I know, wild, right? I didn't have that in Korea or America. It's very cheap here, and by the information sent through, not by minutes or whatever. So if you email me, I'll receive it! I can answer too, but generally short answers, as I have to type them into a regular keypad-- I don't have a super fancy phone, the cheapest kind that can get internet actually.
Also, since Tanzania is south of the equator (barely), I arrived right at the beginning of spring, and it's steadily getting hotter. Man! I can't wait for the rainy season to start, because it's very dry now, and I've just been parched all the time.
Well, this was probably not as informative and interesting a blog entry as I could've written, but I figured I should put up something. I promise to try to be wittier next time and to write down the anecdotes I want to remember!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
One week to go
Well, one week from now, I will have registered at Peace Corps Staging. (Registration is 1:30 PM, Monday, September 21st.) I'll be at the hotel with all the other new Trainees.
It'll feel a little silly, almost, since Staging will take place in the city I've been staying for the past two weeks, in the city where my parents live, in the city in whose suburbs I was raised. The hotel we'll be in is right down the street from where my dad works. We were even considering grabbing dinner downtown that evening-- Orientation is 3-7 according to my Reporting Instructions, and it doesn't mention any activities after 7 pm. But ultimately, we decided not to meet up-- once I've registered at Staging, I should stay there, get to know the other PCVs who will be with me in Tanzania, and so on. It makes sense, but I'll feel a little guilty that I've already said goodbye when my parents are actually still in the same city.
One week.
Considering my circumstances (you all remember, or if you don't you can check my recent archives, how my passport was stolen in Shanghai, I had to go through all this red tape to be allowed to leave China, then I had all this stuff to wrap up in Korea, and only have 3 weeks in America total before I leave again?), I haven't procrastinated that much. I've been going around, buying stuff I'll need, packing stuff, getting things together. Learning Swahili on the Rosetta Stone they sent me. There's a lot to do this week, to finish everything up, but I don't feel particularly behind or anything.
I'm meeting with a Brownie Girl Scout troop tomorrow. Trying to come up with cool cultural exchange things for them to do. Hopefully the leaders will have some good ideas in mind, being in possession of the Badge Book and all of that. Still, I'm having trouble coming up with coherent things to say to them. Peace Corps is just so unpredictable that I have no idea what sort of projects might end up making sense to do with the girls, so it's hard to plan in advance. Well, maybe that's what I should say to the leaders.
One week. Wow.
So yeah. Packing. Studying Swahili (still 4 and a half hours from the required time amount). Picking up some last minute things. Waiting for my solar panel to come in the mail. Still need to get my hair cut.
Trying to figure out whether I should just bring my Durabook with me to Peace Corps, buy a netbook and bring BOTH, or buy a netbook and only bring the netbook. There are lots of pros and cons and all that. I know I can only bring things to Tanzania that I accept may be stolen. The Durabook is more expensive, but I've already had it for a year, so it has a lot of my files on it-- files I may want in Tanzania, especially of the media variety. It takes up more power, though, so it will last less time on the same amount of charge as a netbook. And the only internet I'll have will be in regional capitols and larger towns/cities, which means that I'll probably be bringing my computer with me whenever I go to banking town, so for that smaller is better. Aaargh! Decisions.
One week!
It'll feel a little silly, almost, since Staging will take place in the city I've been staying for the past two weeks, in the city where my parents live, in the city in whose suburbs I was raised. The hotel we'll be in is right down the street from where my dad works. We were even considering grabbing dinner downtown that evening-- Orientation is 3-7 according to my Reporting Instructions, and it doesn't mention any activities after 7 pm. But ultimately, we decided not to meet up-- once I've registered at Staging, I should stay there, get to know the other PCVs who will be with me in Tanzania, and so on. It makes sense, but I'll feel a little guilty that I've already said goodbye when my parents are actually still in the same city.
One week.
Considering my circumstances (you all remember, or if you don't you can check my recent archives, how my passport was stolen in Shanghai, I had to go through all this red tape to be allowed to leave China, then I had all this stuff to wrap up in Korea, and only have 3 weeks in America total before I leave again?), I haven't procrastinated that much. I've been going around, buying stuff I'll need, packing stuff, getting things together. Learning Swahili on the Rosetta Stone they sent me. There's a lot to do this week, to finish everything up, but I don't feel particularly behind or anything.
I'm meeting with a Brownie Girl Scout troop tomorrow. Trying to come up with cool cultural exchange things for them to do. Hopefully the leaders will have some good ideas in mind, being in possession of the Badge Book and all of that. Still, I'm having trouble coming up with coherent things to say to them. Peace Corps is just so unpredictable that I have no idea what sort of projects might end up making sense to do with the girls, so it's hard to plan in advance. Well, maybe that's what I should say to the leaders.
One week. Wow.
So yeah. Packing. Studying Swahili (still 4 and a half hours from the required time amount). Picking up some last minute things. Waiting for my solar panel to come in the mail. Still need to get my hair cut.
Trying to figure out whether I should just bring my Durabook with me to Peace Corps, buy a netbook and bring BOTH, or buy a netbook and only bring the netbook. There are lots of pros and cons and all that. I know I can only bring things to Tanzania that I accept may be stolen. The Durabook is more expensive, but I've already had it for a year, so it has a lot of my files on it-- files I may want in Tanzania, especially of the media variety. It takes up more power, though, so it will last less time on the same amount of charge as a netbook. And the only internet I'll have will be in regional capitols and larger towns/cities, which means that I'll probably be bringing my computer with me whenever I go to banking town, so for that smaller is better. Aaargh! Decisions.
One week!
Friday, September 4, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
8/17/2009
Blog
8/17/2009
The receptionist at the youth hostel stopped me as I entered the lobby. (Insofar, anyway, as youth hostels have receptionists or lobbies.)
"I called the doctor*," she told me. She was a very nice Chinese lady whose English was only so-so, but she made up for it with friendliness and an earnest (and often very patient) desire to help. "He say, if you have symptom 6 days, you need transfusion."
"A transfusion," I repeated, in disbelief. "I need a transfusion? For diarrhea?"
She nods, earnestly.
"Um," I reply. "I think that's maybe the wrong word."
I try to mime to her-- as I've mentioned before, I've become an excellent mime, though in this case it's mixed with English as well-- that a transfusion consists of sticking a needle into someone, removing their blood, and putting someone else's blood into them. She probably didn't quite understand the specifics of the procedure I was acting out, but she seemed to understand that I thought it was an awfully drastic measure.
"Oh. No, then," she said. But then she mimed the same gesture as I did before, with putting a needle into someone's arm. "But needle, yes. Stick with needle."
"Oh, an IV. He thinks I need an IV."
This at least made some sense. The doctor thought I was dehydrated. This would probably have been a legitimate concern, were I not possibly one of the best-hydrated people in the world when my health is normal.** Though I was not currently at my most hydrated, I had taken great pains to not only drink tons of water, but drink tons of electrolytes as well, not to mention checking myself for any other symptoms.
"No IV," I tell her, and pick up the shopping bag I'd dropped to the floor in response to the word "transfusion." I pull out the two monster bottles of Gatorade I'd bought a few minutes before and mimed gulping them down. "I drink this. Lots and lots. No IV. I just want antibiotics."
We'd been over this. I'd been asking for antibiotics for days, but something just didn't translate for some reason, which baffled me. The receptionists at the hostel didn't know what they were and didn't seen to be able to find the translation online. The nurses behind the counter at the pharmacy didn't seem to understand what they were. I just didn't get it. Wasn't this likely to be one of the most-asked for medications as far as foreigners in China go? How could I be the first Westerner with diarrhea (or, for that matter, any sort of bacterial infection) in China who wanted antibiotics (at least as far as all the people I'd spoken to were concerned)? I'd have thought that would be one of the first words they'd teach you in tourism school, but apparently not.
I took the pen and post-it note she had in front of her that had the words, both in Chinese and English, "Diarrhea" and "Transfusion" on it. I wrote, again, "Antibiotics (penicillin)." I handed it back to her; she smiled, and said she'd try to figure out what it meant. I trudged back up the stairs to my room.
*Have I mentioned that through this whole thing with the stolen purse and the bureaucratic nightmare, I've had really bad diarrhea? No? Well, I have. Apparently it's not technically "Traveller's Diarrhea" because I don't any other symptoms like headache or nausea (thank GOD), but it's been here a long time and isn't going away, nonetheless. It's been very annoying, and I've been trying, unsuccessfully, to obtain antibiotics.
**I drink a shitload of water. Sometimes when I'm on a long journey, by train or whatever, I try to limit how much water I drink. Anything less than 4 liters a day drives me insane. I drink, in fact, so much water that doctors have cautioned me that I might unbalance my electrolytes, and so I have even when in perfect health taken up the habit of making my every third bottle of water an ion drink of some kind. To most Westerners' disgust, I drank about a liter of Pocari Sweat a day in Korea. Yes, it's called "Sweat", but it's like Gatorade without being as sweet and with, I think anyway (it's hard for me to be 100% positive about labels in Korean), fewer calories.
8/17/2009
The receptionist at the youth hostel stopped me as I entered the lobby. (Insofar, anyway, as youth hostels have receptionists or lobbies.)
"I called the doctor*," she told me. She was a very nice Chinese lady whose English was only so-so, but she made up for it with friendliness and an earnest (and often very patient) desire to help. "He say, if you have symptom 6 days, you need transfusion."
"A transfusion," I repeated, in disbelief. "I need a transfusion? For diarrhea?"
She nods, earnestly.
"Um," I reply. "I think that's maybe the wrong word."
I try to mime to her-- as I've mentioned before, I've become an excellent mime, though in this case it's mixed with English as well-- that a transfusion consists of sticking a needle into someone, removing their blood, and putting someone else's blood into them. She probably didn't quite understand the specifics of the procedure I was acting out, but she seemed to understand that I thought it was an awfully drastic measure.
"Oh. No, then," she said. But then she mimed the same gesture as I did before, with putting a needle into someone's arm. "But needle, yes. Stick with needle."
"Oh, an IV. He thinks I need an IV."
This at least made some sense. The doctor thought I was dehydrated. This would probably have been a legitimate concern, were I not possibly one of the best-hydrated people in the world when my health is normal.** Though I was not currently at my most hydrated, I had taken great pains to not only drink tons of water, but drink tons of electrolytes as well, not to mention checking myself for any other symptoms.
"No IV," I tell her, and pick up the shopping bag I'd dropped to the floor in response to the word "transfusion." I pull out the two monster bottles of Gatorade I'd bought a few minutes before and mimed gulping them down. "I drink this. Lots and lots. No IV. I just want antibiotics."
We'd been over this. I'd been asking for antibiotics for days, but something just didn't translate for some reason, which baffled me. The receptionists at the hostel didn't know what they were and didn't seen to be able to find the translation online. The nurses behind the counter at the pharmacy didn't seem to understand what they were. I just didn't get it. Wasn't this likely to be one of the most-asked for medications as far as foreigners in China go? How could I be the first Westerner with diarrhea (or, for that matter, any sort of bacterial infection) in China who wanted antibiotics (at least as far as all the people I'd spoken to were concerned)? I'd have thought that would be one of the first words they'd teach you in tourism school, but apparently not.
I took the pen and post-it note she had in front of her that had the words, both in Chinese and English, "Diarrhea" and "Transfusion" on it. I wrote, again, "Antibiotics (penicillin)." I handed it back to her; she smiled, and said she'd try to figure out what it meant. I trudged back up the stairs to my room.
*Have I mentioned that through this whole thing with the stolen purse and the bureaucratic nightmare, I've had really bad diarrhea? No? Well, I have. Apparently it's not technically "Traveller's Diarrhea" because I don't any other symptoms like headache or nausea (thank GOD), but it's been here a long time and isn't going away, nonetheless. It's been very annoying, and I've been trying, unsuccessfully, to obtain antibiotics.
**I drink a shitload of water. Sometimes when I'm on a long journey, by train or whatever, I try to limit how much water I drink. Anything less than 4 liters a day drives me insane. I drink, in fact, so much water that doctors have cautioned me that I might unbalance my electrolytes, and so I have even when in perfect health taken up the habit of making my every third bottle of water an ion drink of some kind. To most Westerners' disgust, I drank about a liter of Pocari Sweat a day in Korea. Yes, it's called "Sweat", but it's like Gatorade without being as sweet and with, I think anyway (it's hard for me to be 100% positive about labels in Korean), fewer calories.
8/15/2009
Blog
8/15/2009
Well, my purse was stolen yesterday.
It was my fault. It was totally my fault. I had my backpack on my back. I'd been trying to be so careful all trip, keeping my backpack on my front or by my side, but just then, it was on my back.
I felt a gentle tug, turned around, and found that my purse was missing. I didn't even see anyone running away with it, although several witnesses saw three men, and the witnesses pointed my mom and I in the right direction. We ran two blocks, but never spotted them. My mom dug out her little translation pamphlet and yelled "Police, police!" so some Chinese girls called the police on their phones. A couple of them hung around to translate for us. We were creating quite a spectacle, but I didn't even really notice. I was REALLY torn up about losing my purse. Here is what was in my purse:
-my PASSPORT
-my American debit card
-my Korean bank card
-my IPOD
-my driver's license
-my Korean Alien Registration Card (without this I can't get my pension, worth over $1000)
-all other forms of ID I have
-jewelry I bought for Katie
-some other things too. About 650 yuan--a little less than $100. I care about that a lot less than most of the rest of it.
So. Yeah. Very not good.
We went to the police station, wrote down the report of what happened twice, drove to the scene, had some witnesses confirm that, yes, three men opened my bag and ran away with my purse. The police don't seem like they're acting like they're expecting to find the purse again. Lovely.
We called and canceled my American debit card. Luckily no activity has been seen on that. Can't figure out yet how to cancel my Korean card. And it's Saturday now which will make it harder.
We were planning to leave China tomorrow. My mom to America, me to Korea for 5 days then America. Without my passport (and, subsequently, without my Chinese visa as well), that's not happening.
The information on the US Consulate website is not encouraging. Can't go in without an appointment, can't see them without a report from the exit-entry bureau on the theft (apparently just the local police report doesn't count). We went to the exit-entry bureau today, they say the report won't be ready until Tuesday. Can't get an appointment with the Consulate until Wednesday. Website says that, barring life or death emergency, it can take 10-15 days for a new passport to be issued.
So... that could actually prevent me from going to Peace Corps.
Well, I'm going to take my Peace Corps invitation letter to that appointment. Hopefully that'll have some sway for them to expedite the process-- I want to get this passport and get to America so that I can SERVE our country, damnit!
I really hope I'm not stuck in China for weeks and weeks. I really want to do Tanzania. Brett says he'll make sure the school in Korea doesn't throw out my stuff. Worst comes to worst I'll tell him which stuff to grab (important papers and items and medications) and I don't care that much if they throw out the rest. I'm lucky he's so willing to help out.
I am kind of a mess. Especially last night after everything was done with the police, I just curled up in bed and cried.
9/2/2009 NOTE: Don't worry, I'm back in America, everything worked out. I even managed to get my pension.
8/15/2009
Well, my purse was stolen yesterday.
It was my fault. It was totally my fault. I had my backpack on my back. I'd been trying to be so careful all trip, keeping my backpack on my front or by my side, but just then, it was on my back.
I felt a gentle tug, turned around, and found that my purse was missing. I didn't even see anyone running away with it, although several witnesses saw three men, and the witnesses pointed my mom and I in the right direction. We ran two blocks, but never spotted them. My mom dug out her little translation pamphlet and yelled "Police, police!" so some Chinese girls called the police on their phones. A couple of them hung around to translate for us. We were creating quite a spectacle, but I didn't even really notice. I was REALLY torn up about losing my purse. Here is what was in my purse:
-my PASSPORT
-my American debit card
-my Korean bank card
-my IPOD
-my driver's license
-my Korean Alien Registration Card (without this I can't get my pension, worth over $1000)
-all other forms of ID I have
-jewelry I bought for Katie
-some other things too. About 650 yuan--a little less than $100. I care about that a lot less than most of the rest of it.
So. Yeah. Very not good.
We went to the police station, wrote down the report of what happened twice, drove to the scene, had some witnesses confirm that, yes, three men opened my bag and ran away with my purse. The police don't seem like they're acting like they're expecting to find the purse again. Lovely.
We called and canceled my American debit card. Luckily no activity has been seen on that. Can't figure out yet how to cancel my Korean card. And it's Saturday now which will make it harder.
We were planning to leave China tomorrow. My mom to America, me to Korea for 5 days then America. Without my passport (and, subsequently, without my Chinese visa as well), that's not happening.
The information on the US Consulate website is not encouraging. Can't go in without an appointment, can't see them without a report from the exit-entry bureau on the theft (apparently just the local police report doesn't count). We went to the exit-entry bureau today, they say the report won't be ready until Tuesday. Can't get an appointment with the Consulate until Wednesday. Website says that, barring life or death emergency, it can take 10-15 days for a new passport to be issued.
So... that could actually prevent me from going to Peace Corps.
Well, I'm going to take my Peace Corps invitation letter to that appointment. Hopefully that'll have some sway for them to expedite the process-- I want to get this passport and get to America so that I can SERVE our country, damnit!
I really hope I'm not stuck in China for weeks and weeks. I really want to do Tanzania. Brett says he'll make sure the school in Korea doesn't throw out my stuff. Worst comes to worst I'll tell him which stuff to grab (important papers and items and medications) and I don't care that much if they throw out the rest. I'm lucky he's so willing to help out.
I am kind of a mess. Especially last night after everything was done with the police, I just curled up in bed and cried.
9/2/2009 NOTE: Don't worry, I'm back in America, everything worked out. I even managed to get my pension.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
8/06/2009
Blog
8/06/2009
Mom and I went to see the Great Wall of China! In fact, we not only saw it, but hiked five miles of it!
This was... I'd say about as easy as it sounds, but I'm not sure how easy you think it sounds. It was in the blazing sun, and oh my god, are there a ton of steps on that thing or WHAT. We went through 26 watchtowers. We hiked from Jin Shan Ling to Si Ma Tai, which is considered a less-touristy part of the Great Wall (that still has tour groups from hostels going there). We could definitely see why; parts of it were in disrepair, falling apart, and so on. I didn't mind, though, because that certainly made it more authentic. The views from either side were AMAZING, too. I imagine that once I post this on my blog, here is where I will put the pictures that my mother and I took.
Once we got farther along from the Jin Shan Ling side and towards the Si Ma Tai side, there were lots of work crews there, replacing crumbling stones and stairs and whatnot. So I guess in a few years, this are of the Great Wall will be fixed up as well, so that it too can be overloaded with massive amounts of tourists. While there were a lot of tourists here, it wasn't like packed or anything. We could hike the thing without feeling claustrophobic or anything, sometimes we couldn't really see many people around.
Though I mostly liked the disrepair, one part was pretty terrifying! Look what I had to navigate:
You maybe can't quite tell, but you can't just jump *down* from there-- you have to sort of jump to the side. If you go to the wrong side, you could very easily slip, fall, and die. At least, that's what my mom had to say. But what's life without a little adventure? I jumped face forward, with a Chinese lady grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the side I needed to go. I banged my knee, but it was just a surface bruise, it didn't hurt as I walked. My mom couldn't look down as she went, so she went backwards, legs (and backside) first. The Chinese lady, old and tiny though she was, somehow managed to heave my mom to the side, too. There was a lot of strength in that little body! I wish I'd gotten a picture, but alas.
This lady had a pretty clever setup, truth to tell. See, there are people (mostly women) selling things all along the Great Wall. Some souvenirs, fans and t-shirts and knick-nacks, and also some very useful things (like cold water [we always checked to make sure it was sealed], Coca-cola, etc).
Anyway, mostly these salesladies just have to compete with each other as you pass. This one, however, very cleverly set up her station right after that jump. So she helped you out and you're really grateful to her because, while you PROBABLY would have lived without her help, your chances of being very harmed would have been greatly increased. So when she-- a bit less pushily than the other salesladies-- offers you things to buy-- well, you want to. She helped you out, dude. Buying a t-shirt-- especially when the price doesn't seem inflated compared to the other ladies-- kind of seems like the least you can do.
So yes, this was a very clever lady (and also, as I said, a deceptively strong one, physically speaking). Which is how I ended up with my "I Climbed the Great Wall" t-shirt!
(Most of the pictures of me were taken on my mom's camera. I'll add one of the t-shirt, soon, I promise!)
It's actually very comfy-- certainly feels like cotton-- and is miraculously good at not absorbing smells. And reminds me of my adrenaline-rushing jump every time I see it. All in all, definitely a good purchase.
So, back to the fact that it's a five mile hike. In the burning sun. China, especially that area, is HOT in the summer. Plus, we started our hike around 11 am, and were told that we had to be at the end point by 2:30 pm for the van to take us home-- a many-hour drive to Beijing, incidentally. For the latter half of the trip, my mom and I took them at their word, and were convinced we weren't going to make it. How were we ever going to make it back to Beijing? We pushed ourselves faster up those stairs. So, so many stairs.
But then you get to the bridge, across the lake, and you know that's close to the end. One more watchtower. We've done it... right?
Except that you're only at the 28th watchtower. There are two more. So you stagger into the second to last one, sit down for a moment, stagger out again, and then...
The stairs.
Oh, those stairs. Those long, those steep, those unexpected and arduous stairs.
How can I possibly express the despair, the hopelessness, the disbelief upon seeing that to finish, we had to go up THOSE STAIRS?
I really wish that I took a picture from the bottom of those stairs, looking up. That might capture some of the essence. Alas, the best I have is a picture from afar, from across the lake, before we knew that it was, in fact, not the tower at the bottom we had to reach, but the one half-way up:
By this time it was, like, 2:15. My mom didn't think she could do it, so I said I'd climb the stairs and try to race to the van to tell them to wait, not to take off without her.
I crawled up those stairs. I couldn't climb them like a human being, I had to go on all fours, like an animal. But I got up them.
And at the end was a zip line! That was fun. Wish I could've gotten a picture, but since my mom wasn't with me, the mechanics didn't work out. Anyway, I put on the harness, they strapped me to a wire, and I slid across the lake and down to the bottom.
This was supposed to be the fastest way to get down. Easy for me to do, since I have no problem with heights*. Not, however, something that my mother would do. It would have been the fastest way to get to the van, except that just as I got to the bottom, the boat to take us across the lake was pulling away. There was only one boat, so I had to wait the full 15 minutes for it to come back.
My mother, who, having rested 10 minutes in the 29th tower slowly climbed the stairs and then, very sensibly, walked down the mountain to the van... actually arrived before me.
Whoops.
And of course, as we should have realized all along but we are too apt to take people at their word, we were far from the last people to arrive. The van waited until everyone was there, at 3 pm, before it left. Apparently last time the trip happened, they waited until 3:30. There was never any danger.
Anyway, tiring as it was, it was definitely a good day. Though I may forever refer to The Great Wall of China as, instead, The World's Biggest Stairmaster.
*There's a family story about a time my family and I visited, I believe, Martha's Vineyard when I was, oh, maybe 4 or 5 years old. We climbed to the top of the lighthouse, and my mom, who has a phobia of heights, was sitting on the floor, clutching the bars, rocking back and forth in terror. I, on the other hand, was eagerly bouncing all around the observation deck** exclaiming, "I want to order a pizza!! Can we order a pizza?!?"***
**which terrified her further, of course.
***luckily, I don't remember the disappointment of realizing that they didn't deliver to the top of lighthouses. I'm sure it was a traumatic realization, however.
8/06/2009
Mom and I went to see the Great Wall of China! In fact, we not only saw it, but hiked five miles of it!
This was... I'd say about as easy as it sounds, but I'm not sure how easy you think it sounds. It was in the blazing sun, and oh my god, are there a ton of steps on that thing or WHAT. We went through 26 watchtowers. We hiked from Jin Shan Ling to Si Ma Tai, which is considered a less-touristy part of the Great Wall (that still has tour groups from hostels going there). We could definitely see why; parts of it were in disrepair, falling apart, and so on. I didn't mind, though, because that certainly made it more authentic. The views from either side were AMAZING, too. I imagine that once I post this on my blog, here is where I will put the pictures that my mother and I took.
Once we got farther along from the Jin Shan Ling side and towards the Si Ma Tai side, there were lots of work crews there, replacing crumbling stones and stairs and whatnot. So I guess in a few years, this are of the Great Wall will be fixed up as well, so that it too can be overloaded with massive amounts of tourists. While there were a lot of tourists here, it wasn't like packed or anything. We could hike the thing without feeling claustrophobic or anything, sometimes we couldn't really see many people around.
Though I mostly liked the disrepair, one part was pretty terrifying! Look what I had to navigate:
You maybe can't quite tell, but you can't just jump *down* from there-- you have to sort of jump to the side. If you go to the wrong side, you could very easily slip, fall, and die. At least, that's what my mom had to say. But what's life without a little adventure? I jumped face forward, with a Chinese lady grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the side I needed to go. I banged my knee, but it was just a surface bruise, it didn't hurt as I walked. My mom couldn't look down as she went, so she went backwards, legs (and backside) first. The Chinese lady, old and tiny though she was, somehow managed to heave my mom to the side, too. There was a lot of strength in that little body! I wish I'd gotten a picture, but alas.
This lady had a pretty clever setup, truth to tell. See, there are people (mostly women) selling things all along the Great Wall. Some souvenirs, fans and t-shirts and knick-nacks, and also some very useful things (like cold water [we always checked to make sure it was sealed], Coca-cola, etc).
Anyway, mostly these salesladies just have to compete with each other as you pass. This one, however, very cleverly set up her station right after that jump. So she helped you out and you're really grateful to her because, while you PROBABLY would have lived without her help, your chances of being very harmed would have been greatly increased. So when she-- a bit less pushily than the other salesladies-- offers you things to buy-- well, you want to. She helped you out, dude. Buying a t-shirt-- especially when the price doesn't seem inflated compared to the other ladies-- kind of seems like the least you can do.
So yes, this was a very clever lady (and also, as I said, a deceptively strong one, physically speaking). Which is how I ended up with my "I Climbed the Great Wall" t-shirt!
(Most of the pictures of me were taken on my mom's camera. I'll add one of the t-shirt, soon, I promise!)
It's actually very comfy-- certainly feels like cotton-- and is miraculously good at not absorbing smells. And reminds me of my adrenaline-rushing jump every time I see it. All in all, definitely a good purchase.
So, back to the fact that it's a five mile hike. In the burning sun. China, especially that area, is HOT in the summer. Plus, we started our hike around 11 am, and were told that we had to be at the end point by 2:30 pm for the van to take us home-- a many-hour drive to Beijing, incidentally. For the latter half of the trip, my mom and I took them at their word, and were convinced we weren't going to make it. How were we ever going to make it back to Beijing? We pushed ourselves faster up those stairs. So, so many stairs.
But then you get to the bridge, across the lake, and you know that's close to the end. One more watchtower. We've done it... right?
Except that you're only at the 28th watchtower. There are two more. So you stagger into the second to last one, sit down for a moment, stagger out again, and then...
The stairs.
Oh, those stairs. Those long, those steep, those unexpected and arduous stairs.
How can I possibly express the despair, the hopelessness, the disbelief upon seeing that to finish, we had to go up THOSE STAIRS?
I really wish that I took a picture from the bottom of those stairs, looking up. That might capture some of the essence. Alas, the best I have is a picture from afar, from across the lake, before we knew that it was, in fact, not the tower at the bottom we had to reach, but the one half-way up:
By this time it was, like, 2:15. My mom didn't think she could do it, so I said I'd climb the stairs and try to race to the van to tell them to wait, not to take off without her.
I crawled up those stairs. I couldn't climb them like a human being, I had to go on all fours, like an animal. But I got up them.
And at the end was a zip line! That was fun. Wish I could've gotten a picture, but since my mom wasn't with me, the mechanics didn't work out. Anyway, I put on the harness, they strapped me to a wire, and I slid across the lake and down to the bottom.
This was supposed to be the fastest way to get down. Easy for me to do, since I have no problem with heights*. Not, however, something that my mother would do. It would have been the fastest way to get to the van, except that just as I got to the bottom, the boat to take us across the lake was pulling away. There was only one boat, so I had to wait the full 15 minutes for it to come back.
My mother, who, having rested 10 minutes in the 29th tower slowly climbed the stairs and then, very sensibly, walked down the mountain to the van... actually arrived before me.
Whoops.
And of course, as we should have realized all along but we are too apt to take people at their word, we were far from the last people to arrive. The van waited until everyone was there, at 3 pm, before it left. Apparently last time the trip happened, they waited until 3:30. There was never any danger.
Anyway, tiring as it was, it was definitely a good day. Though I may forever refer to The Great Wall of China as, instead, The World's Biggest Stairmaster.
*There's a family story about a time my family and I visited, I believe, Martha's Vineyard when I was, oh, maybe 4 or 5 years old. We climbed to the top of the lighthouse, and my mom, who has a phobia of heights, was sitting on the floor, clutching the bars, rocking back and forth in terror. I, on the other hand, was eagerly bouncing all around the observation deck** exclaiming, "I want to order a pizza!! Can we order a pizza?!?"***
**which terrified her further, of course.
***luckily, I don't remember the disappointment of realizing that they didn't deliver to the top of lighthouses. I'm sure it was a traumatic realization, however.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
8/5/09
Blog
8/05/2009
My plans to blog my trip to China are thwarted by the fact that not only has China blocked Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube, they've also blocked Blogspot. I got a computer geek with an SSH to an American computer (despite the fact that he's a Kiwi, go fig) to let me post notes to this effect on Facebook and Twitter. Sometimes I really wish I had some practical skills, so that I could do this SSH thing (or other cool geek get-around-filters things) during the rest of the trip. Well, practical skills besides analytical thinking, but you know what, sometimes that's not actually that practical when you're dealing with people.
Well, they haven't blocked google documents, so I'm still going to jot my thoughts down as we go. I'll hopefully post them (and some awesome pictures!) when I get back somewhere that doesn't try to strangle the Internet.
8/05/2009
My plans to blog my trip to China are thwarted by the fact that not only has China blocked Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube, they've also blocked Blogspot. I got a computer geek with an SSH to an American computer (despite the fact that he's a Kiwi, go fig) to let me post notes to this effect on Facebook and Twitter. Sometimes I really wish I had some practical skills, so that I could do this SSH thing (or other cool geek get-around-filters things) during the rest of the trip. Well, practical skills besides analytical thinking, but you know what, sometimes that's not actually that practical when you're dealing with people.
Well, they haven't blocked google documents, so I'm still going to jot my thoughts down as we go. I'll hopefully post them (and some awesome pictures!) when I get back somewhere that doesn't try to strangle the Internet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)