Falling in Line in China

This trip combined two firsts—group travel and Asia itself. It’s hard to evaluate them separately sometimes, but I’ll try.

Real World Beijing

Except for a few travelers who already knew one another, we were 17 strangers from a range of backgrounds, ethnicities, professions, and political persuasions. Mostly single, a few married or otherwise attached. Mostly 30s, with a few in their 20s, 40s.

Diversity’s fine by me, but it never hurts to ask about the age range before choosing a travel group. I almost joined one without realizing that everyone would be 50+. Not that it always matters, but it may influence the type of activities that are planned. I mean, heart attacks DO occur. (See fig. below) And brain thingies, too, apparently.

So anyway…spending a few weeks in China is like trying to grasp War & Peace by skimming its preface.

Spending ten whirlwind days in China visiting half a dozen cities and towns on a tight schedule packed with activity is probably as illuminating as reading the CliffsNotes.

But it’s Asia and you have to start somewhere.

We started with four nights in Beijing, which I thought would be as immense and overwhelming as New York City. But it’s a little more DC, with a much greater circumference.

Beijing is miles of medium-height buildings, wide streets, and relentless traffic—that is always trying to run you down…or nudge you gently at the kneecaps so you’ll cross the street faster you stupid picture-taking tourist.

Pedestrian prudence was actually the one bit of advice offered to me before I left. So I thank you, Dan, you were correct.

We all survived the street crossings and also the miles of bus travel the trip entailed without a major catastrophe, thanks in part to our adorable English-speaking local tour guides “Nancy” and “Jessica.” (Names anglicized for our communicating pleasure.)

They must have learned English from the Brits because before long we all began thinking of it fondly as “Chiner.”

On one of our first days out, Nancy took me aside to tell me that I “have a very deep look.” (Here we go.) I would have referred her to a possible explanation, but access to The Atlantic online is probably blocked anyhow, what with all the coverage they’ve been giving Chiner as of late.

I was just soaking it all in, like I always do, but I guess the pesky enigmatic image persists, even in more reserved parts of the world. Well, Confucius did say: The quiet observer sees much. The boisterous loudmouth, little.

Faster Than a Chinese Assembly Line

In and around Beijing, at nearly the speed of light, we experienced…get ready now…Bai Mansion, Bird’s Nest, Water Cube, Great Wall, Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square, Ming Tombs, Jade Exhibition Center, Cloisonné Factory, Peking Acrobats, Oriental Carpet Factory, Silk Street Shopping Market, Hooters, and Old Town by pedi-cab, fitting in 10-course lazy Susan-style lunches and dinners as well as some socials with local singles.

(breathe, breathe)

And that’s the pace that continued pretty much from start to finish.

Sometimes, I don’t even take a guidebook with me on trips. I just wander around and let it all unfold organically. But that’s why this trip was so intriguing. Every activity, meal, and attraction planned in advance? Really? Yes! To the minute!

Of course, we were all familiar with the itinerary before leaving home, but I don’t think anyone appreciated how very full each day would be. There wasn’t much time for strolling, reflecting, or even fully absorbing what we were seeing, especially places of historical significance dating back thousands of years.

This trip was about efficiency, and packing as much activity as possible into every day.

Before long, most of us surrendered to the schedule, appreciating the effort our guides were making to show us a country they were clearly proud of.

This made for days where the bus left the hotel promptly after breakfast and delivered us back at the point of utter exhaustion. That’s the context in which the following events took place, which is why some sound like I saw them from a speeding train. So if you’re spotting inconsistencies, perhaps some inaccuracies, I have no doubt about it, and promise to improve my attention to detail in future warp-speed excursions.

My Beijing Single

The setting of the first singles mixer was your run-of-the-mill bar scene, except for our little nook, starring a dozen or so Americans and a dozen or so Asians, all wearing name tags and looking like nervous teenagers at the prom.

Alcohol, in this case, was necessary and much appreciated.

I can’t speak for the other 666,795,000 men in China, but the bespectacled little guy who made an effort to talk to me during this mandatory mixer was as sweet and charming as can be.

There were cooler dudes in attendance that evening, but none spoke English. (Not that they should. I mean, they live in China. I’m just clarifying.)

Exploiting their weakness, “Alan” quickly nudged them off the sofa and seized the opportunity to put his conversational skills to use. He charmed me with tales of his U.S. adventures, traveling around and teaching tai chi in Wisconsin. (See, fellas? A fashion mullet and good shoes can only take you so far.)

Alan joined us as we went strolling through one of Beijing’s busy nightlife districts. I couldn’t understand every word, but I caught snippets about what he wanted out of life, including that universal desire to “be somebody and do something important.” No small dream in a country that massive.

My disinterest in having kids somehow came up, which really surprised him, I guess because we’re free to procreate with abandon. (No matter how dumb, annoying, or unattractive we are.)

While we waited for the tour bus, exchanging email addresses, the rain began to fall. Alan ran over to a stand selling umbrellas, bought one for me, bid me good night, and set off for home getting soaked by the shower.

Score one for the nerds.

I’ve heard from him once (not sure if he received my reply), and, like all the signage in China, it was a crazy mess of graciousness and grammatical confusion:

“Dear Ms Kristine ,
I am writing to you to show interesting talks we have , actually , you are so lovely and attractive a girl who looks like a film star with European noble style quality .wish we can have a contact with each other , by the way , wish you have a very good journey in Beijing and the other parts of CHINA!!!
yours
Alan”

Pretty cute, hm? I’d love to be Facebook friends, but Hu & Co. are having none of it.

Signs of China So Great in Places All

I’d like to say a few words about the signage in China: It’s thoroughly fucked up and totally irresistible. I’m not talking an occasional spelling goof. I’m talking a whole new way of assembling nouns and verbs. A unique and inspired arrangement of ideas, directions, and philosophies.

For instance: “When externals change, the mind becomes attractive, too,” one said. I took this to mean “When you look good, you feel good.” Then I took it a step further: “Facelifts and fillers are perfectly acceptable.”

Next, we have this cautionary announcement seen in a public restroom. (If the traffic doesn’t take you out, Mother Nature may take her shot.)

Emerging theme: Toughen up, people, personal injury is probably your own damn fault. I’m starting to like it here…

In the following notice, viewers are made well aware of what happens when you fail to heed posted signage: brown dirt where blades of grass should be sprouting in synchronicity (which no doubt disgraces the entire population.)

Now…I realize I’m not the first person to make the crazy sign discovery, but I’m pretty sure I’m one of its biggest admirers. In fact, I found it to be so unfailingly entertaining, I’m starting to think it’s a marketing ploy. Signage takes up half of my photo album, and I’d seriously have to think twice about returning to Asia if they ever decide to correct it.

Now We Fly to Shanghai

Straight from Pudong airport, we were whisked off to the Taoist Chenghuang Temple and a really cool shopping area (and given 30 minutes to shop—chop chop!) After a quick refresh at our gorgeous new hotel, we spent the evening taking a breathtaking singles cruise down the Huangpu River.

I guess there were singles around; we were so in awe of beautiful, illuminated Shanghai that we could hardly pay attention to anything else. I can’t remember the last time I described anything as “breathtaking” (if ever), but it’s the only word that fits. Everything was illuminated, for sure.

Until you went looking for a bathroom…

A Word About Chinese Restrooms

Of the public restrooms we visited, about 95% had toilets in the ground. Not holes in the ground, but flushable, functional porcelain toilets, purposely placed at ground level. (If you’re going to all that trouble and expense, why not just go knee-level?) I made good use of my strength and flexibility (thank you, Dance Trance), but others weren’t so lucky.

During one bathroom break, we heard one of our travel mates yelping for help and found her teetering on the brink of disaster. Toilet squatting + leg cramp = precarious (and funny) position. Luckily, we were there to give her a hand up. Yet another unanticipated advantage of group travel, and something to keep in mind if you plan to visit with older or out-of-shape friends. (As if having to tote toilet paper weren’t enough to think about…)

And We’re Off to the “Country”

Next we headed to the small towns of Suzhou and Wuxi. Population: six million and four million, respectively.

Known as the “Venice of the East,” Suzhou encircles the Grand Canal, renowned for its stone bridges, pagodas, and meticulously designed gardens, which were lovely, I’m sure. I mean, the town made UNESCO’s list of World Cultural Heritage sites, but this is where memories begin to mingle, and all of the gardens and parks we saw become one big topiary dreamscape.

Wuxi had a lively pedestrian-friendly downtown that we all wanted to see more of, but our tour bus was idling nearby as usual. We took a quick walk-through, and managed to grab a few Best Bite donuts and coffee before being hauled away.

The icing on the donut acquisition was, of course, their names. I give you: The Spicy Flossy. I played it safe and pointed to something chocolate, which, at that moment, tasted like the best thing I’d ever eaten in my life.

The view from my hotel window in Wuxi that night was a gorgeous network of bridges and unusual buildings, all outlined in brilliant color-changing lights.

The architectural originality in Beijing and Shanghai was truly stunning. No central styles dominate. Interiors and exteriors all seem like a designer’s fleeting whim brought to life. Not only is the variety of styles remarkable, so are the materials combined in single areas: A hotel lobby with fuzzy baroque wallpaper, ultra smooth marble counter tops, chunky wooden doors, towering glass sculptures, and rough metal art installations—an amazing integration of concepts with a flair for the dramatic.

I have spotty memories of our pearl farm and silk factory tours, which I’m thankful for. I have no desire to learn more about the ways in which other cultures boil, bake, drown, or fricassee their animal populations. Sleep-deprived, I did purchased some face cream containing fresh water pearl. I hope it was just false advertising. If not, I apologize sincerely to the mollusks who were harmed in its making. (It isn’t even all that great.)

Why do people everywhere find it so hard to leave the animals out of it? Yeah, yeah, money. But people would still spend gobs on cotton and rubber and hemp if the things looked interesting enough. And your design skills tell me you can do it, China!

Loads of Rice = Skinny People. (Carb Case Closed.)

I imagine that any vegan or vegetarian would be thrilled with the variety of plant foods served in a typical Chinese meal: bok choy, eggplant, tomatoes, pumpkin, mushrooms, green beans, cabbage, spinach, soybeans, and other unidentifiable, but healthy looking greens. I loved them all.

The tofu, sadly, was weirdly slimy, so I had to rely on eggs for protein at times. (Beans and nuts were hard to come by). I thought that’s what I was doing when I ate the egg drop soup one night. The “eggs,” if I heard correctly later on, were silver fish. Those dark spots on the “eggs?” I’m guessing those were their eyes. Euw. (Still not as bad as eating the roach in Mexico.)

Overall, I was just happy to be getting rice, vegetables, fruit, and tea at every meal, which is nearly impossible in some countries.

Universal Lover’s Lament

During one of our bus rides, Jessica, usually on the mic trying to explain the significance of what we were seeing, began telling us about her dating life in Beijing. She’s an attractive, bilingual 30-something with an interesting career, good sense of humor, and……wait for it…….no luck meeting the right guy.

Dating disgruntlement: It’s not just for picky Westerners anymore.

Even worse, she wants to have kids, so time really is of the essence. But she’s determined to get it right, if there is such a thing. “It’s more important to wait for a ‘true friend’ to spend your life with,” she said. “Don’t think about money or how romantic someone is in the beginning. Think about how you’ll be spending all those ordinary days together.” And just be patient she told us, the right person is out there. Aw.

She also enlightened us to the fact that, these days, if both husband and wife have no siblings, they are legally permitted to have two children. (Hear that, Duggars? Two is plenty.)

Tea Time

In the morning we bussed it to Hangzhou for a cruise on West Lake followed by a visit to Yuewang Shrine, Yue-Fei Temple, and a massive tea plantation.

I was more excited about the tea in China than most of the others. (Except for my new healthy friend from Cali—hey, girl.) In its natural state, tea is brimming with antioxidants, but as an Irish tea drinker, I’m in the habit of ruining its goodness with milk (or Silk) and sugar. I think I finally found the cure in Hangzhou’s world-famous Dragon Well tea.

This vibrant green tea has been cherished since the Song Dynasty for its smooth, delicate flavor and aroma, rated number 1 out of 80 other varieties. Our guides demonstrated how the leaves are coated by hand with a touch of oil in a large wok-shaped bowl and pan fired to halt fermentation. (Or something like that.)

What I did grasp is how to prepare it. Put a large pinch of the loose green leaves in a mug and add hot—not boiling—water. At first the leaves float, which is fine because they’re edible. As you refill the mug throughout the day, the leaves get heavier, sink, and appear like seaweed on the ocean floor. With each refill, it also  becomes sweeter and milder.

You can also steam your tired eyes with it, useful at that point of the trip.

Green tea contains vitamin C, amino acids, and one of the highest concentrations of catechins among teas, second only to white. Just as the oil added during production is no longer present after it’s brewed, they say green tea absorbs fats in the body. That’s why the best way to reduce cholesterol is to drink it 30 minutes after meals. (An even better way to reduce cholesterol is to stop eating animal products, but that’s another story.)

Dragon Well tea is considered expensive in China, but as they say, “the price of a pot also buys you hours of lazing around,” a favorite activity of Hangzhou locals and visitors alike. Naturally, we would not be sampling any of that.

I’ve since read that only government officials get real Dragon Well tea, and that we probably were sold a high-grade second. Nevertheless, it got me off the creamer and for that I am eternally thankful.

Ever-Lasting Impression

After the sun set, we fought to keep our eyes open for a performance that turned out to be drop-dead mesmerizing. “Impression of West Lake” is directed by none other than Zhang Yimou, creator of the Beijing Olympics mind-blowing opening ceremony. For this show, outdoor seating encircles the lake where a beautiful ancient love story unfolds right on top of the water.

Here is a YouTube video that can’t possibly do it justice, but trust me, this is one walking-on-the-water bit you can take to the bank.

Hands Across Americans

Included in the trip were in-room, full-body massages, and everything about mine was dreamy. Good technique, good expertise, good-looking therapist.

Comparing notes afterwards, we found that an array of styles were utilized from deep tissue to acupressure. But one commonality that surprised us all was the proximity of the therapists’ hands to those customary no-fly zones. Nothing scandalous happened (that I know of). It was just surprising for those of us living in Sexual Harassment Happy Lawsuit Land.

Overall, the massage consensus was definitely “mmmmmmmm.” So one night, someone from the group went off on her own in search of another. (Rock-bottom prices made them that much more attractive.) She found a random massage parlor, ordered something off the Chinese menu that she couldn’t understand, and now affectionately refers to it as the Infamous Chinese Crotch Massage. (You see why Miss Jessica had been keeping us on a short leash.)

Step Aside, Cirque

Somewhere along the way in Shanghai we visited Jade Buddha Temple, the famously bustling Nanjing Road shopping district, and a jaw-dropping Cirque du Soleil-type show that was so intense I had to look away at times.

“ERA: The Intersection of Time” is a death-defying theatrical blend of acrobatics and gymnastics. I’m talking giant porcelain vases being flung in the air and balanced on bald heads; teenage boys being catapulted into oblivion and landing on 25-ft. poles strapped to their feet; trampoline choreography that nearly sent performers through the roof; gut-wrenching motorcycle-in-a-wire-cage acts with six riders blasting around the sphere, coming within inches of one another at intersections; and this wheel-of-death contraption spinning faster than I’ve ever seen before.

I’m sick (and enthralled) just thinking about it.

But the Chinese always have to mix it up a little…

Just when you get used to covering your eyes, you find yourself wiping them as this stunning couple flies around the arena in a most precarious and poignant aerial ballet. This show takes acrobatic artistry to a whole new level. Go China!

Unfortunately, this was also the night we nearly had Nancy in tears. We left Jessica back in Beijing, so Nancy, just 23, felt she was completely responsible for the group’s well being in Shanghai.

Exiting the crowded theater, two from our group got lost in the shuffle, (although we all knew by this point that the tour bus was never far away). Sure enough, they found us within 20 minutes. Still, Nancy let those middle-aged men have it: “I am sorry to be saying such a serious sentence,” she told them, “but it is my responsibility to have you safe. Please, next time, stay with the group!” In your face, tall white inattentive men!

Time For a Qi Adjustment

With the end of the trip in sight, it was the perfect time to visit a Traditional Chinese Medicine clinic, and get our out-of-this-world foot massages. While we were comatose, doctors also evaluated our overall health using time-honored TCM pulse diagnosis.

An interpreter told me my qi could use some tweaking. (Really? After all these days of being surrounded by people?) They prescribed a two-month course of cordyceps.

An overall tonic, cordyceps supposedly strengthens the lungs and kidneys, increases energy, regulates normal functioning of various body systems, strengthens the immune system, and promotes vitality and longevity.

I just assumed it was some kind of herb, flower, or fungus. After reading about it at home—and I’m still not clear on this—I think it may have something to do with dead caterpillars, hopefully ones that died of natural causes. As gross as that is, I’m finishing the month-long course, especially if animals had to lose their lives for this. I’ll soon be getting the full story from my acupuncturist here at home. In the meantime, it’s four a day with an orange juice chaser.

Live Free or Die

Near the end of the trip, when most of us lost the ability to think for ourselves, a group of defectors began to form. They wanted to skip the final stop—a quaint little water town called Wuzhen—and hightail it back to Shanghai for an early start on the last big night out. (Not even communist China can squelch American independence.)

So off they went on the hired party bus (at their own expense) while I, and the rest of the conformists, took a relaxing walk around Wuzhen, enjoying its tiny bridges, shops, and residences. Admittedly, I think it was good for us to separate for a while. It was nice to walk and talk in a group of five for a bit. In an ironic twist of fate, traffic tie-ups had both groups arriving back in Shanghai not far apart. (The greater good, people, the greater good.)

Brave New Friends

I did get one state-sponsored opportunity to go off with a travel mate without disrupting the schedule/rocking the boat/worrying about tour guides running after us.

It was awesome roaming the streets freely, people watching, talking to locals, riding the subway, stopping for Starbucks and Subway (I admit it), and scaring ourselves silly at the top of East Pearl Tower.

Erected in 1995 as a declaration of Shanghai’s future-forward ambitions, its current function is scaring the shit out of busloads of tourists. The tower’s 1,148 ft observation deck features a glass floor that your brain just cannot comprehend is safe to stand on. It generates the same sinking feeling you’d have hanging off the side of a cliff.

A few people can walk right out on it, some crawl, others hurl themselves off the mental ledge trying not to cry.

I photographed my daring friend out there, from the safety of the sidelines.

Chinese Take-Away

So the whirlwind had to come to an end, of course. From the airport in Shanghai, we all went our separate ways, emails exchanged and photo-sharing planned (another great advantage of group travel.)

There’s no summarizing China, that’s for sure. I still have a hard time answering people who ask how it was. It was a little bit of everything, and much much more.

It’s true what they say about the diversity, though. It’s a striking blend of ancient and advanced. And so many of my memories exemplify just that. I’ll never forget seeing…

Thousands of carefully crafted English signs—with outrageous grammatical errors.

Ultra modern buildings—encased in handmade bamboo scaffolding.

Fancy high-priced bars and clubs—featuring those infamous squatter toilets.

Scrumptious Chinese feasts—served under glaring fluorescent lights.

A well-stocked convenience store—where mother, father, and baby sleep under the counter when business is slow.

And that other mother, holding her baby and talking to workers—in the middle of a bustling construction site (not a hard hat to be found).

Maybe China’s an Introvert, Too

What I also loved about China was the sense that there’s so much under the surface that you’re just not seeing yet. Sure, history has shown us that some of that stuff is terrible, but just as much of it is wonderful and good.

That’s why I liked going to raves years ago. We’d descend on a city, long after its residents were in bed, to raise the dead to the sounds of a DJ until the sun came up. Little did those people know what was happening all around them. It’s also why I liked the premise of Stanley Kubrick’s not-very-well-executed Eyes Wide Shut. The idea that there’s a lot going on, sometimes right under your nose, that you don’t really know or understand.

On a Scale of 1 to 10

I’d probably give this trip a 7, in large part for the effort put in by our hardworking tour guides (even though they treated us like kids on a fieldtrip sometimes).

Hotels were gorgeous, schedules were well organized, restaurants were nice enough given the lighting situation, and we saw more with their guidance than we ever would have seen alone.

As for group travel, I guess you never know who will be joining you, but unless you’re completely insufferable there should always be one or two people with whom you connect. And that’s all you need to have a good time.

There was one falling out among friends on this trip, but that’s not a risk of group travel, just a hazard of being a living breathing human. In fact, where better to have a falling out than in a group where there are other people you can still share the adventure with? Imagine if it happened and you only had each other?

It never hurts to get your own room if you can swing it. It was well worth the extra money to me. I also made a couple of girlfriends who are interested in traveling together again. That alone makes the trip priceless I think.

So Long, Asia. See You Again Tomorrow Next Time.

I’ve been loving Asia from a far for years—the food, the fashion, the art, the style, the beautiful people. I’m so glad I got a glimpse of it in person. I’m sure I’ll do group travel again and I definitely want to see more of this amazing continent.

I think any experience that leaves you wanting more counts as remarkable. China surely was.

Besides, everyone needs to be submissive sometimes.