Sad day

Cullen and Arielle are sick in China. We have loads to still post, but feel no bueno.

The Summer Palace

The Summer Palace:

As a final outing during his stay, Kwong wanted to visit the Summer Palace. We were both game, since we had yet to visit this acclaimed beauty of Beijing. When we woke, the day was just as amazing as the previous had been. The sky was pure blue. All we saw during the entire day out was a single fluff of cloud. We gathered and then headed to road to catch a taxi to the Summer Palace.

When we arrived, the place was alive with people. Kwong went to purchase tickets and we watched the people swarm about in groups, the hum was loud, even over the wind that rustled the trees with vengeance.

We pushed our way through the throng that just wanted photos in the court-yard-like entry area and out toward the lake that surrounds the Summer Palace. Once on the walk-way that skirts the lake, the wind was a force to be reckoned with. The wind threw water over the high embankments onto passers by with little effort. The howling and shuttering of the trees was deafening. We pushed our way against the wind to view the lake. As we left the entry-way, the mass of people thinned to almost no-one. We first crossed the bridge with 17 arches to the building where the Emperor and Empress would join on a small island. We then returned to the lovely path around the lake, with the wind still muscling us around.

There were some small foot-bridges made of marble, just like the bridge with 17 arches, but they were only small arches themselves, to cross small canals. The bridges were odd in that the grade of the steps changed as they went up. The initial grade was rather low, being very easy to climb, but quickly increased to a rather large step that was very steep. The appearance of the bridges was beautiful, because the grade change created a lovely high arch, but to climb them took a bit of concentration to not stumble over your feet.

Most of the trees surrounding the lake were very old and huge. Many of them had been patched to prevent further deterioration. The branches of some of the really old ones were propped up with metal bars, a procedure that appears to be common in places where they preserve the trees. We have seen this in the Forbidden City, The Temple of Heaven, and now in the Summer Palace. The trees serve a very important purpose here, so the preservation of them is completely understandable.

The wind finally started to relax once we rounded the southern end of the lake. Some ducks puttered around in the water, initially appearing to be decoys, we realized our mistake when one of them bobbed his head about a little. The cold and wind didn't seem to bother them too much.

We made our way over to the Marble boat and snapped a few photos from afar. I am not certain if it is ever open to the public, but this day it was not. It has beautiful stained glass windows and loads of detailed marble sculpting all over.

We had lunch and then headed to the highest point in the Summer Palace. Despite our musings at where the entire clump of people had been our travel around the lake, we weren't surprised to see them again at temple. The trip up the hill to the top was not only tiring, but so very fascinating. There were a maze of paths, some of which were cave-like, others beautifully paved with stones in flower patterns. The twisting and turning was well worth it. The amazing view from the top of the hill was breathtaking on such a clear and sunny day.

On our way down the hill, back to the entrance, we had to work our way through the crowds again, squeezing here and going around there. It was quite a work out, but eventually we made it out again.

We now had to find a taxi to take us to WangFuxing where Kwong promised we would find an excellent restaurant to have some dinner after paying our respects to the Well of the Wang family. (WANGFUXING = The well of the Wang family in Chinese. Kwong explained that the Wang family was a wealthy family ages ago, and the street was named for the well that is now just a beautifully decorated culvert cover with dragons adoring it's edges and an inscription about the Wang family in Chinese).

We got in a taxi, and had a bit of a ride. The taxi was unmarked, and so after a bit we decided that he wasn't going to take us to the correct spot and jumped ship. We found another taxi (marked this time) and were only a short distance from our destination. It cost us a little but we made it to the street.

On the street we saw a huge and beautiful Catholic church. We then headed the other way and found the restaurant. It was about 5pm so we all decided that it was perfect timing for dinner. The restaurant was not so crowded at this hour. We relaxed and had a nice dinner, then headed back home.

Sunday Stroll

Meeting:

Once again, I found myself looking for Paula. This time, I was at the Silk Market. Our meeting was well planned this time. Noon at the Irish Sandwich place in the Silk Market we would meet for lunch.

Just before noon, I arrived via subway, bumbling about in B1 of the Silk Market, I learned quickly that the sandwich place was not down there. Leather shoes, purses and belts were sold on this floor. I circled the area, just to be sure, avoiding the constant request for me to, "Come see." "Have a look" and "Need a bag?" I made it back to the stairs. At the top of the stairs was the Irish Sandwich place sign. I stepped outside and sat down at a table outside the shop. There was a bit until noon, so I ordered a smoothie. The prices were excessive, as expected from somewhere in the silk market. I sipped the berry smoothie, waiting for Paula. The flavor was pretty bitter, but not unpleasantly so. Despite the excessive use of ice, I enjoyed the beverage well enough.

About fifteen minutes after I sat down with my beverage, Paula peeked around the door to the Silk Market. We smiled in greeting to each other, and headed out. She knew we wouldn't miss each other meeting at an unmistakable place like an Irish Sandwich shop. There could be only one near the Silk Market.

Paula had a restaurant in mind for lunch. It was a Sischuan place, but she wasn't entirely sure where it was, or even if it was in this area. We crossed the street to a long strip of restaurants, but none were the one she was expecting to find. We did find a nice Thai place and settled in for a good meal.

After finishing lunch, we headed to retrieve her parka from the tailor where she had commissioned it. She got a really nice deal on it. It was lovely and looked so warm. She really needed one since she was headed to Lhasa. It looked wonderful on her, such a perfect fit.

She then demonstrated an event that she told me was common on her previous visit to Beijing years earlier. She went to buy some fruit from an alleyway, but the officer guarding the alleyway wouldn't let her in. She had encountered this the previous day when she commissioned the parka, but this time she was determined to get her fruit. She insisted that she give the police officer the money to buy the fruit, but he wouldn't take it. Finally a woman with a baby outside the alleyway who understood what was going on helped Paula get the fruit she wanted and we were on our way again. I had never seen such an event. The officer insisted that we were not to enter the alley, and put himself in front of Paula every time she moved to enter.

We then caught a cab to head back to Wangfuxing, to the hostel where she was staying. The hostel was tucked into a hutong area. This quaint little humble hostel was beautiful inside. The community bathroom was amazingly clean. The rooms were small, but clean and beautifully decorated. The small courtyard area was full of healthy beautiful plants with some caged parakeets and a cricket. Neither the birds nor the cricket were singing, but the sun was lying beautifully upon the wooden table decorated with flowering plants. I was impressed. Paula told me the girls that keep the hostel cleaned the table with a toothbrush the day prior. They were very friendly and kind.

We decided to take a short trip over to the near by park. Paula and I walked for a bit, and then I saw the immensity of the park. After checking the time, I was sure I would feel rushed if we went ahead inside, so she walked me back to the subway and I made it home in time to get ready for dinner with Kwong, Logan, and Cullen. Having walked so much, I was worn out. Paula is in amazing shape. She didn't slow for a second.

Dinner was hot pot at a mushroom place. The dinner was wonderful, and when I got home, I was so ready to crash. I felt that long walk for days.

The Temple of Heaven

Saturday Meeting:

We had agreed on the train to meet Paula at the Temple of Heaven on Saturday, the day after returning from Mongolia. Cullen and I set out to meet at 10:00am. The sky had a slight grey hue, and the air was a bit heavy. Despite this, we weren't the only people who planned to see the Temple of Heaven that day. The taxi dropped us off in a dense crowd of tourists and locals at the South entrance.

We purchased our through tickets, which enabled us to be able to see all the buildings in the Temple, not just stroll through the park. When we glanced at the back of the ticket, we were a bit disappointed to find there were not one, but about 4 entrances to the park. This made our odds of picking the right entrance pretty slim. We waited a bit, then expecting that she would have entered from the North entrance, the one closest to the direction she was staying...we entered the Temple of Heaven, expecting to meet her as we made our way across the park and buildings.

After a bit of stumbling around, we found a coffee shop. Cullen bought an "Americano" Coffee. Immediately he decided that they made it out of sewer water, and rushed to find some sugar. Despite his attempts to cover the flavor, he still describes this coffee as the most foul concoction described as coffee that he has ever had.

There were people all over the park playing a version on hacke-sack with a little shuttle-cock looking "sack". Most were red and fluorescent pink with white and beige feathers protruding out of the "up" side of the puck. Upon closer inspection, the "sack" part appeared to be several pieces of cloth stacked upon each other. We will definitely purchase one and dissect it. They look like loads of fun.

We went into several of the rebuilt Temple areas which had large furnaces for burning animal sacrifices and loads of stairs. The buildings were vibrantly painted, and structurally similar to all the others we have seen with the criss-crossing beam structure in the roof and the spacious standing area before the raised platforms.

There was an open circular platform where it is said that your voice echoes differently from the center. There were so many people trying to take photos and milling around on the structure, Cullan and I were unwilling to wait around and find out. The whole area had these very old and very huge cedars. They twisted and sprawled toward the sky higher than I have seen a cedar go. The girth of their trunks was so very impressive. Their twisted and gnarled bark held faces and shapes.

Voices rose over the temple Walls and we followed them out into the park to find out what the clamor was. There was a chorus sining in the park. We wandered a bit further and found a group under an archway playing tunes on a collection of Chinese instruments.

By the time we exited the park, the sky was quite blue and beautiful. We went and had some lunch, then were ready to head back home. The trip to Mongolia took a lot out of us, and we were ready for some relaxation.

Bicycle 1

I am just going to preface with blog post with the fact that many wonderful things have happened this past week. I suppose it is only fair for one inevitable bad thing to happen.

I am sad and feel a bit violated right now. One of our bicycles just got stolen while we were out today.

It's very sad.

Return

There is a quite sadness and a calm relief that comes over me when I am going back to my normal routine after an interruption of this sort. The exhaustion of days of traveling, having a wonderful time, and enjoying the world caught up to us on the train back. We were visited a bit by Paula, who we met on the train to Mongolia. We set up a time to go visit the Temple of Heaven after we got back to Beijing.

The trip back to Beijing was spent resting and relaxing. We did have a small event when we reached the Mongolian border. A couple of people got kicked off the train. We aren't certain why. There was a bit of conversation and they left. We then fell asleep through the wheel change and woke only to get our passports back from the Chinese border guards.

We lugged our baggage off the train at about 2:44pm, a bit early, but I'm not complaining. The leaves had turned more yellow and orange while we were gone, and it was a lovely surprise to return to.

When we got home, we were both ready for a long needed rest.

Genuine Wild Horses

Freezing:

Early in the morning, before we were even close to ready to wake up, the fire had gone out, and Cullen woke to poke around in it. He discovered that all the coal had burned up, and threw whatever fuel he could find to get some warmth in there. This consisted of a small amount of manure, insufficient to make the ger warm again. We rested a bit longer, but were up and ready to find the wild horses soon enough. Una came in and pulled out the sweet rolls, bread, butter and cheese again.

Breakfast was quick and we were ready to be up and moving. The temperature outside was enough to freeze the standing water with a very fine sheet. The sky was pale and looming with the promise of precipitation. The sun couldn't be seen yet, and we were cold under that thick cover of clouds. Muggie drove us into the national park, with both he and Una looking out for any sign of the wild horses. It wasn't long, and he pulled off the road in front of a nice little creek. The horses were far enough away and blending so well with the background that it was hard for us to see them, but Una saw them and unloaded us onto the cool morning grass.

We walked a bit out and watched them eat and drink for a bit, snapping photos. There were three adult horses and two foals. The babies were colored a bit differently, but they were all blending well with the maze color of the fields of grass. They were beautiful.

We didn't stay too long out in the cold air. We watched them slowly migrate over the edge of the mountain and disappear before leaving the area. It was a rare and beautiful moment. The air was filled with cold moisture and the smell of earthy grass.

When we headed back out of the park, we stopped to go hear a nice talk about the purpose and the creation of the park. The park was created after the extinction of the Przewalski horse in it's natural habitat in the 1960s. It was reintroduced from the animals that had been raised in zoos across the world.

On our way to the cement ger the sky started slipping little white specks on us. The feel of them was just a whisper across my face, and they didn't settle for long anywhere, just long enough to see small wet specks on the cement walkway.

We also watched a video about the park, the common requisite for attending any park. And were introduced to the fact that the park actually contains marmot, an endangered and rare animal of Mongolia that used to be hunted for it's meat. It's illegal now to kill the marmot, but we did get to see at least 2 of their dens while we were out in the park. It surprised me that the marmot was such a large animal. I had always considered that they were rather small and rodent-like, but they are about the size of a beaver.

As we left the two cement ger, the snow actually started falling in earnest. They weren't large flakes, but clumps of white dots, as if a fifth grade science student was working on his solar-system project above us and couldn't quite get the size of pluto right. I couldn't help being excited.

We hopped into the van, and Muggie drove a bit, then stopped. Una turned to Teri and said, "You can drive now." Teri excitedly rushed to the driver's seat, anxious to have a go at the Mongolian roads. The car was a manual transmission, so she killed it the first time, getting used to the clutch. It didn't take her long to get the hang of the roads, then it was my turn. I did pretty good, then Emma had a go, and finally Cullen.

Once we all had our turns, Muggie took back control of the vehicle and the sky began to pour out huge chunks of white fluff. I watched as it settled in the spaces between the yellow-golden grass. It was only really melting on the road, making a muddy, slippery mess. We were glad Muggie was driving again.

Mongolian Staples of life:

When we stopped for lunch, the snow had already stopped. We had a nice meal at a restaurant and then headed back into town. To be sure we didn't miss out on any of the trip, she took us to a small ger in the center of town that served Ariag and horse meat.

I wasn't entirely sure what to expect as far as flavor and odor were concerned. The ger smelled like the fresh warm odor of juicy steak. The ger had the usual iron stove and table in the center. It had couches for guests and small stools gathered around the table which had a nicely decorated bowl. The bowl had a ladle in it made of wood with a horse head sculpted at the handle. The bowl contained airag. We sat around the table and Una ordered one bowl of airag for us to share. Emma had the first drink, which Una responded to with a laugh and, "You just let it touch your lips," then took the bowl and had a nice hearty dreg. Teri was next, and her face spoke of polite disgust. Now it was my turn.

The flavor was very light and salty. It wasn't sweet or dirty tasting like I expected. It was also quite thin. It wasn't at all what my brain had prepared my mouth for. There wasn't any aroma or distinctive flavor. It was quite light, but odd. It had no bite either. The fermentation process leaves the beverage with a lower alcohol content than beer. To try the drink blind, I would probably have guessed that it was room temperature water salted a bit with a touch of something I can't name. I would have never even come close to guessing it was a milk product.

Hanging along the wall were the leather sacks that they produce the airag in by churning it regularly with a wooden dowel.

We were also permitted to taste the horse meat that was causing the whole ger to smell like bbq. The horse meat was just like beef. I have had a steak in the US that tasted exactly like this bit of meat that I swished about in my mouth. If it had been served instead of beef in any dish or at any meal, I am certain it would be difficult to tell it was horse.

Back in the van, we were ready for a good shower and some relaxation. We headed back to Khongor Guest House. We invited Una and Muggie out with us that evening to go see the cultural show and to visit the restaurant/brewery that we had tried to go to the first night in Ulan Bator. Every inch of my body smelled like goat and old dirty human. The steam of the shower only enhanced the odor until the soap began to wash the muck and grime off. It was the cleanest I had felt in a while.

We all had a good scrub-up and a nice sit. We loaded back into the van and headed out to the Culture show.

Mongolian Culture:

The descriptions of the culture show before we arrived had included brief mentions of the Horse headed violin that is the country's pride, and contortionist. I was expecting something similar to the acrobatics show we saw in Beijing. We actually arrived a bit late, missing the first act, and having to wait to file in after it finished. We stood at the entry doors, waiting for the act to complete. We were told to move back, so we all pushed to one side of the red carpet or the other.

The doors burst open, and people in costumes with large animated heads flooded into the hallway. The jingle of their bells and the dance in their steps prepared me for the rare and special treat I was about to experience in the rest of the show.

The music of the show was everything I expected from China. The beautiful mellow tones and strings. The flute and clarinet-like horn instrument. Throat singing was an unexpected and mysterious surprise. I sat in rapt wonder as the man before us created not only deep throaty notes with only his body, but high resonant ones at the same time. It was beautiful. If you haven't heard throat singing, here's a link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxK4pQgVvfg

It is beautiful.

At one point the music was so powerful, it not only created the vision of the Mongolian steeps with all the beautiful wild horses, but it brought tears to my eyes with it's beauty. I don't think I could have appreciated the music or the culture show as much if I hadn't spent two days out in a ger with the beauty and culture of the real Mongolia surrounding me.

Mongolian culture is as deep and beautiful as it's traditions and music that have survived through domination by Russia and China. The stubborn, proud, beautiful Mongolians have maintained superstitions as well as crafts and music through all their trials and labors.

A world where nomadic farmers, throat singers, and contortionists still survive, Cullen and I were treated to a beautiful visit that I will never forget. The magic and mystery that is Mongolia has touched me with a wonder and curiosity that won't soon die.

We had a fine dinner and went back to the guest house, ready for our early morning departure, but so very reluctant to leave our new friends and the mystery of Mongolia.

Wood and leather

Grumbles:

When we woke in the morning, just as when we laid down to rest, the old couple started talking. The woman woke and put more poo in the furnace then laid back down to badger the old man to get up and tend to the animals. We couldn't understand the conversation, but we are almost certain that he didn't want to get out of bed, and she was offering him loads of reasons that he needed to.

During the night, the fire had gotten cold. Emma had been sandwiched tightly between Teri and I at one point. I also remember Teri waking in the middle of the night and saying she couldn't sleep.

Teri: "Emma, I can't sleep."
Emma: "Well, what do you want me to do?"
Teri: "Sing me a song or something."

Then I fell back to sleep.

Sleeping on the floor was quite a painful experience. With sore backs and stiff joints, I got up reluctantly. The chill air was not helping my desire to emerge from the warm sleeping bag either.

Una appeared and started getting our breakfast foods out and ready for eating. Some bread and butter, sweet breakfast rolls of a sort, cheese, and some Nutella like substance made up the breakfast. It was fast and satisfying. As we enjoyed our morning repast, the old man came in and had a nice long drink from his bread-corked beer. With a quick smile and a nod, he recorked it and was back out into the pasture. We all filled ourselves and got ready for our morning horse ride. We all got out and started wandering about to loosen our joints and get a good look at the beautiful Mongolian landscape once again.

Mongolian horses:

The horses that the Mongolians use in their daily herding lives are about the size of Shetland ponies, and have very similar body structure. They have the short stocky legs and neck. Their heads are pretty large and they seem to maintain quite a bit of body fat. I'm sure all these attributes are adaptations from living in the harsh environment offered by the Mongolian steppes. The native wild horses were probably bred in a bit, creating this small sturdy horse.

Some of the guests in the other ger had already gone out for a quick ride, and we were waiting for them to get back. As I had only ridden a horse once, and it had been 14 years since my singular two hour horse ride, I was excited, but thankful that there would be some sort of guidance on the ride. The other riders came in, and we were all paired with a horse. Emma and I were put on horses that were held by the nomadic herder, and Teri and Cullen's horses were free to run about. Emma was in a wooden saddle where the rest of us were in simple saddles made from wire and a pad. They weren't entirely uncomfortable, but the extent of the ride made for some interesting bruises. Emma's saddle was most certainly less comfortable than the others. There wasn't really any give, so every jostle and bump had to have been an uncomfortable jarring.

We went to herd some sheep and goats up onto the hill. The Mongolian nomadic herder had Emma and I in tow. He rode us down into a ravine, and up the other side. Cullen followed as closely as he could, with is stubborn horse refusing to move at time. Teri refused to cross where we had, so she took her mare further down the ravine, finally crossing at a low point.

The sheep cooperated very well. They seemed to know exactly where to go. After a bit of maneuvering them, we headed up a hill for a very nice photo opportunity. The shot was beautiful, then we headed down to have some lunch. When we dismounted, only my knees really bothered me. To this day, the bruises on my bum are the worst reminders of this short ride.

So hard to say goodbye:

Una had started preparing our lunch while we were out. The lunch was a nice veggie stew with some canned beef thrown in. We sat a bit, smelling the stew and talking a bit about how spectacular it was to stay with the old couple. The ger was small, but it was amazing that they insisted on living off the land after all their years in the city. This type of living is the closest thing to old Native American nomadic life that I will ever experience, I'm certain. These are a proud and beautiful people with such a strong cultural background. Their lives are simple, yet they know the complexities of what living in the city can be.

As we sat eating lunch, the old man's son came home, and started talking with him. Una told us the old man was telling him stories about having us over. Teri, while we were there, had taken many photos of the old couple. He told his son that Teri had made a model, and taught him to say, "g'day mate" which he repeated almost perfectly. They truly enjoyed our stay with them. Despite our inability to communicate well, we still managed to get our adoration for their simple life and our respect for them across. We appreciated the opportunity to stay with them, and they seemed to know it, even if we were unable to tell them ourselves.

The old man had to go to town, so he made sure to tell us all good bye, and shake hands. We walked out of the ger and waved him away. He seemed to be very happy as he left.

Once we packed everything, it was time for us to go as well. We loaded up the van, and prepared ourselves. Before leaving, we all shook the woman's hand. She then went into the ger and retrieved a large spoon full of milk. Una explained that this was to wish us well, and to insure that good fortune followed us.

She scattered the milk into the wind as we drove away.

Wildlife preserved:

We were on our way to the Hustai National Park in Mongolia. This park is very close to Ulan Bator, and it contains the original reintroduced wild horse population in Mongolia. We were going to see some horses in the morning. For now, we were ready for some ATV van action again. The roads out to the park were the same type of Mongolian roads we had used to get to the old couple's ger. The terrain was long stalks of yellow grass and tumbleweed.

Once we reached the park, about an hour and a half later, we were invited to stay in the ger of one of the park rangers. The ger's resident, once he found Teri had quickly crashed in his bed, went to stay with friends in another ger. He was quite accommodating, and didn't seem to mind. The evening was quiet and we just talked with Una about her job, politics, and how she felt about foreginers for quite some time.

Una is a student of international relations studies. She aspires to work in the Mongolian Embassy for another country. She expressed her joy for taking foreigners out on the trips into the wilds of Mongolia. She has had quite a few bad experiences with guests who expected her to cater to their every whim and to work for them as if they owned her. She is a very modern and understanding woman. Though she has been on a few bad trips, she appreciates the stories and gets a great laugh out of them now. It was such a pleasure having Una as our guide. She didn't mind answering questions about Mongolian religion, politics, and even personal questions.

She cooked us a nice dinner once again, and we continued to chat for quite some time.

We were unable to get warm in the ger, so the ger resident brought some coal to burn during the night. It did warm the ger enough for us to finally cuddle in and get warm. There were three beds in the ger. Cullen and I took the guest bed, which is the first bed you come to when you enter a ger. It is directly to your right, which is the recommended direction of travel for guests in a ger. Emma took the bed directly opposite the door. Teri stayed nestled in the "woman's" bed. The "man's" bed is the guest bed or the bed in the guest area of the ger. There is always a "sacred" area in the ger, which is directly opposite the entry door, or can at least be seen from the entry door. You never put your feet toward this sacred area. Many Mongolians are Buddhist, and in Buddhism it is an insult to put the palms of your feet toward the Buddha.

With stacks of covers and sleeping bags on, we settled into our goat flavored air and were ready for a nice night of rest in the second ger of our trip.

Ger livin' is the life for me!

10 o'clock departure:

Cullen and I woke at about 9am on Monday, groggy and unprepared for the trip. I quickly shuffled things around in our luggage to make room in our backpacks for anything we could expect to need on our outing into the true Mongolia. I packed all of our long-johns, loads of socks and jeans. I also packed things like toilet paper, hand wipes, and some snacks that would travel well. Emma, Cullen, and I took a quick trip to the State Department Store's grocery store to pick up some few odds and ends which include some beer, some band-aids, some cranberry juice, loads of orange juice, and mouth wash. By the time we made it back, it was already after 10am, and we were still needing to shuffle luggage and get our spare suit case packed into a storage area. We didn't actually leave the guest house until about 10:45 or so. Fortunately none of us were up-tight about the time schedule. We just loaded into the van with our guide and our driver. After meeting Una (who's Mongolian name I can't say, much less spell) and our driver Muggie (once again a name I cannot say or spell) we were on the road out into the no-man's-land of Mongolia. We managed to make it out of town and to a restaurant for lunch by about 2pm or so. The lunch was wonderful. Cullen had some goulash and I tried some chopped meat with rice and potatoes. Emma had some traditional noodles, Terri and Cullen both also ordered the steak with egg, Muggie had some goulash as well and Una had the same thing I had. There was far too much food. I think we were expecting separate dishes like China, but instead it was plates of food as we usually have in the states. This was quite refreshing, but a little too late to realize after we ordered. We just ate all we could and then let the rest go. I'm sure the strays appreciated us that afternoon.

Back in the van, we were off again. This time, we veered onto a "dirt road." By dirt road, I mean only recognizable by Mongolian drivers as a road. This road was like a dirt road in the country that a farmer would use to go and feed his cattle. There are NO street signs in Mongolia inside or outside the major cities (or rather major city). The roads are made, I suspect, by the nomadic people trying to get from one town to another, or from one spot to another in their rugged Russian ATVs.

Once we made it to another paved road that was under construction, we had to veer off a couple of times to avoid fresh paving going on, and large piles of dirt built up to add to the road, we finally made it to Lune village, a marker of sorts on our journey. We veered again to find the same familiar type road that we had previously been on. Bumping about in the back seat, we watched as a few ger homes passed in the distance. When we reached the site, it was empty and we were told by their neighbor that they had moved for the season. The typical nomad will move 3 to 4 times a year. It was about time for the winter move, and we were directed where to go by the neighbor. Setting out again, we ran into another guide car from Khongor Expeditions who took the lead and guided us to the proper location.

The spot consisted of three ger. One was off by itself, and two were clustered together. We had parked near the cluster of two. The smaller of the two was the kitchen ger, the larger was lived in by one man who's wife was in town with their two daughters. The larger ger, and the one off to itself both had a solar panel and a satellite sitting on the west facing side of the ger. The solar array was positioned so that it would be able to catch both the morning and the evening rays by just turning it. The larger ger also already had guests in it. Two guest were staying there, and another van full was on it's way. Our guide, Una, had a plan for us. She had us follow her over to the smaller ger that was a bit of a walk away, off by itself. This ger, we were told, was the home of the parents of the man living in the ger next to the kitchen ger.

Not until after we had left did we find out that Una told the old couple that we were going to stay with them. She didn't ask, she just told them that we were staying with them. The silly part was that after sitting for a bit Teri asked Una to be sure and ask them if it was alright if we stayed there with them. They laughed a bit and Una said that they told us, "If we don't mind, they don't mind." A lot of what they said back and forth was totally lost on us. We only wish we could have actually understood them. I suspect that either Una was expecting us to be horrible, or that she just wanted us to really experience the way people live in the ger, because she left us to wander about on our own a lot that first day. We watched the old woman start supper, then went over to watch the milking of the horse for the making of airag.The horse is said to be milked every 2 hours.

definition of airag:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kumys

After watching the horse being milked, Teri wanted to be sure there would be an opportunity to milk something. Una asked the old couple and they said that Teri could milk the cows in the evening. We watched the old lady cook, and she said something to us that we couldn't understand. She wandered off to find Una, which we found out later that she was going to tell Una that she needed to feed us because we were getting hungry. Una came over to the ger and started cooking some food.

It was time to milk the cows, and the old lady washed her hands and grabbed a bucket for the milking. She pulled out a calf and let it get to it's mother and drink some milk to start the cow, then pulled him off and tied him to the enclosure gate. She began milking the mother cow and Teri came over to try and have a go at it.

They repeated the procedure with the next cow, and the old lady let Teri have the bucket and chair. Teri proceeded to try and put the bucket on the ground, which caused the old lady to scramble over and rescue the bucket from the dust and dirt that the cow was kicking up, and make some disapproving noises at Teri. Teri was persistent, and pushed her way in to try again, as the old lady had the milk bucket on her lap and was milking at the cow. Teri didn't produce any milk at her go, but Emma had a turn, and was doing a decent job. Teri insisted that she try again, and managed to get a bit of milk out of the cow. The old lady was just laughing a bit at her as she grimaced after trying.

While Una finished up the cooking, we conversed and the old couple came in. The food was a lovely pasta salad with some meat in it. I suspect the meat was a canned beef similar to the beef she used the next night. Una translated for Teri while she asked quite a few questions, including a request for the couple's love story.

From all the questions that Teri asked, I pieced together this story about the old couple who were now in their 70s:

The woman was an accountant for the school, and the man either taught there or was part of the administration, I forget which. During her career there, he found her to be a very kind and beautiful woman, so he decided to marry her. Their marriage was a traditional ger marriage. They lived in Lune village while they worked, and had 9 children (or was it 7? I don't really recall exactly. It was quite a few) We were told by Una that 12 is a more common number for nomadic families. The couple decided that they wanted to return to the old ways of nomadic living when they retired. The old man's family had taken care of his animals while he was working in the city, and when they decided to make a go at it, they took their animals and began living their lives the nomadic way.

They are such beautiful people. It was such a pleasure to live with them for that one night. Teri taught them to say "G'day Mate," which they managed very well, and Teri recorded with her camera. We learned to say thank you in Mongolian. I can't begin to try to spell it, but it sounds something like Bi-at-lah (the t and l make a sort of tongue sound). We pulled out the beer and shared with the old couple. The second beer the handed to the man, he made sure to only drink half of, corking the bottle with a piece of breading. They had a very nice time having us over. They told Una that while we were there, the time seemed to pass very quickly, and it made them happy to have young energy in their ger.

We all bundled up in sleeping bags and stacked ourselves like little tootsie rolls on the floor with our heads most opposite the door and our feet facing the door. The fire in the ger was piled up with loads of manure to last most of the night. As we bundled up, the old coupled made quite a fuss about Teri's feet hanging out of her sleeping bag. She insisted that she was fine time and time again, but they weren't content until she finally pulled the sleeping bag over her feet and tucked it under. He made sure to show us where the extra coats were so we could bundle up more if we got cold. As soon as he turned out the single light in the ger, Teri pushed out her feet, and we all tried to sleep.

Train to Mongolia

To begin:

Information on the generalities of Mongolia can be found here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mongolia

The approximate population of Mongolia is 3 million 38% of which are in Ulan Bator, the capital. The rest are spread over the size of 2 states of Texas. I am utterly amazed at the vast emptiness of Mongolia.

Catching a Train:

I didn't sleep the night before the trip, anticipating that it would be impossible for me to drag myself out of bed to catch a train that leaves at 7:40 am. Having ridden the train from Hong Kong to Beijing, I was prepared for a really un-eventful ride. The trip was going to last 30 hours, having us arrive in Ulan Bator at 13:24. This meant that I had a day and a half to fill with something, so Friday evening I taught myself to knit. This took about 30 min of learning to cast on, and two to learn the actual knitting stitch. I, of course, chose to make the initial obligatory scarf. Having purchased about six small rolls of Australian woolen yarn on Thursday when we were returning from purchasing the train tickets. With this project started, I work on it off and on as I went through all the possible issues we might have and anticipated them by packing different odds and ends. By 5:30 when I woke Cullen I had the apartment cleaned and the bags packed and ready. The real trick was getting Cullen out of the house in time to reach the train station by 6:40, and hour before departure as recommended by the travel agent.

As groggy as Cullen was, we actually managed to get out of the apartment by 6:20 and off the IHEP campus by 6:30. He realized after we were downstairs that he needed to drag the bicycle batteries up-stairs. I had been concerned the entire hour we were getting ready that it would be really difficult to catch a taxi at 6am. By 6:30, the taxis were in full swing, and we had no trouble getting one. We stepped out of the gates to IHEP and a taxi swarm was rounding the corner. We didn't even wait a minute before loading up to head to the train station.

We arrived at the station at about 6:40, but we still had to cross the street and enter the Beijing Railway Station. By the time we boarded the train it was already 7:00am. We had made it safe and sound with time to spare. Once settled into our cozy Deluxe soft Sleeper room, we anxiously awaited departure. Cullen scrambled out of the car when he saw the fruit vendor and purchased some grapes, mandarin oranges, and bananas at highly inflated prices. They were very tasty though.

Departure was at precisely 7:40am and the train inched out of the railway station onto the track that would accompany us all the way to Erlian, the Chinese/Mongolian border town.

The terrain we encountered was quite lush and filled with cities that had high rise buildings and loads of residents, as well as vast farming land between the cities. There were tons of corn crops that had recently been harvested or were in the process of being harvested. The medieval methods of farming were still implemented. Men were in the fields with scythes, chopping down corn stalks after the picking of the corn. The Corn stalks were left to dry in the fields in piles. Many of the corn cobs were stacked on roofs, or out on porches in front of the homes of the farmers to dry. To our amazement, the birds in the area didn't really bother all the drying corn.

Lunch:

About 12:30 we decided we were ready for some food. Unlike the train to Beijing from Hong Kong, there wasn't a vendor running through the cars selling meals, there was reportedly a restaurant car. As we watched out the window, wondering which way the car would be, a friendly man passed by, striking up a conversation. Michael wanted to know what we would change if we were to be elected president of the United States. He said that he had traveled many places, and asked many American citizens this same question and didn't want to leave us out. After a long bout of political conversation, Michael pointed us in the right direction to find the restaurant car.

We went back into the room, gathered our things and headed toward the food. In the restaurant car, we saw not only Michael, but several other Westerners enjoying some Chinese cuisine. The menu we were given was in English and Chinese. The food was what we were used to from China, the usual fare of chopped meats with a nice sauce. We ordered rice with the meal some "fried Chicken" and "glazed pork". The rice arrived and then the chicken as we conversed with several of the other train riders. Michael was from New York, but spent most of his life in Ireland, thus his thick and beautiful Irish accent. We also met a woman from Houston and Paula, a lovely lady from Boston.

The Chicken was typical hacked up bits of chicken in a thick sauce. The rice was sticky and easy to eat with the chop sticks. In the booth next to us, as our pork dish arrived, we struck up a conversation with the two women who were enjoying their beer. Teri and Emma were talking about their plans for Mongolia and they sounded as if they were looking for about the same thing we were... or maybe just the same thing I was. Cullen seemed to be up for anything. They wanted to take a nice trip out on a horse and see some of the country. I wanted to ride a horse out on the Mongolian steppes as well, so we started talking about our plans. They relayed that they had reservations in a hostel in Mongolia call Khongor Guest House and Expeditions. At this point I still didn't even know what a Hostel really was. All I knew was that it was another type of accommodation. They were both from Australia and we talked a bit about how crazy the American election was turning out to be. We joked back and forth for a while, then finished our meal and headed back to our cabin.

I was exhausted, but still too excited to sleep. Cullen and I sat there for a bit, conversing about things. Moments later, Michael came by again, looking for a good place to play a game of chess with another train traveler. We offered them our bench/bed and they started a nice game of chess, and some lovely conversation. Paula stopped by for a bit, entering in a bit of the conversation as well. This was where I learned what a hostel really was.

Once Michael finished his first game, he started one with Cullen. They played for hours, people stopping by now and again for a visit and a view of the game, but it ended with Cullen's defeat. The night was getting late, and we were approaching the Mongolian border, so it was necessary to gather out passports and our documents for the crossing. Michael went to his room to get his things ready.

China/Mongolia border:

We reached Erlian around 19:30 and the Chinese border guards boarded the train, collected our exit paperwork and passports. Once all the passports were collected, we could either exit the train, or stay on for the changing of the wheels. We, of course, opted for the changing of the wheels show.

The train moved forward into a workshop with two three lanes of about five sets of four hydrolic lifts for the cars. The train moved back and forth through the workshop as the cars were separated. The banging and jostling was far to exciting to sleep through, and before each tug or push there was a train whistle to signal the moving of the engine. Once our car was moved into the workshop and stationary, the cars in the other lane had already been lifted and were ready for their new wheels.

They wrenched and unscrewed a few bolts and things then lifted the cars up. After all the cars on the lane were lifted, the wheels were rolled out and the new wheels were rolled in. The cars were all then lowered onto the new wheels and fastened. The old wheels were rolled toward the China side of the workshop, and the new were wheeled in from the Mongolian side of the workshop.

After putting the new wheels on, the entire train was reassembled with the same train whistling and banging that pulled it apart. About two hours later, the train was ready for Mongolia and we went back to the China side to pick up all the passengers that had exited the train and to permit the Chinese border guards to return our passports.

The time was about 22:30 or so by the time we finished all the wheel changing and such on the Chinese side, so we were exhausted. Cullen and I cuddled up on the bottom bunk and were sound asleep when we arrived in Zamin Uud, the Mongolian border town. With a bang on the door, we were requested to give our passport and entry paperwork to the Mongolian border guard. She seemed very stern and quite rigid. Her Mongolian black leather stiletto boots punctuated her walk through the car. We waited a bit for the Mongolian entry stamp and the return of our passports. I was afraid of missing the Gobi desert, so I tried to sit in the chair across from the beds and watched out the window. I fell asleep in the chair, and about two hours later moved to the bed, ready for an early morning on the train.

Mongolian arrival:

The next day on the train consisted of loads of desert and desert shrubbery. We didn't see any trees until about a mile outside of Ulan Bator. My fear of missing the Gobi desert was completely unnecessary. When I woke in the morning, I got to see camels, little rat-like burrowing desert animals, and lots of bones. I saw one bloated camel carcass and soon after noticed about three sets of animal bones bleached white from the sun. There was no water to be seen and the tiny towns we passed consisted of gers and a few buildings. It was really easy to tell once we crossed the Mongolian border. The appearance of gers was unmistakable.

The description and definition of a ger (yurt is Turkish):
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yurt

Around 11:00 we started seeing more vegetation in the form of short grass and shrubberies that were withered and dry looking. We also started to see small drifts of snow. Despite this, the temperature on the train was quite warm and almost uncomfortable due to the constant sun beaming through.

We saw mountains covered with a small number of evergreen trees and some rivulets of water just before our arrival in Ulan Bator. My initial impression of Ulan Bator was that it was quite underdeveloped and a little smoggy. There were ger and ger factories right next to the train station. The exit from the train was just a platform with a train station that was about the size of a large restaurant back home. This added to my impression of underdevelopment. After exiting the train, we noticed Teri and Emma standing about, collecting themselves, and asked if they wouldn't mind us joining them. They were great sports about it, and in need of a taxi, so they debated a good price with one of the taxi drivers on the platform. We traveled to the Khongor guest house about five blocks away for five dollars with four of us in the car and all our luggage.

At the Khongor Guest house, we sat down with Teri and Emma after getting our luggage settled, and decided upon a nice relaxed trip out into the Mongolian steppes. The beautiful Mongolian way of living. The trip consisted of 3 days 2 nights out of Ulan Bator. This worked out great for us, since we arrived on Sunday and would leave on Thursday. This meant we would leave the city Monday morning and get back on Wednesday evening. Just enough time to prepare for our 8:00am train back to Beijing. It was lovely of Teri and Emma to permit us to tag along, having only just met us on the train.

Once we decided on our tip and were settled in, we headed out to get some Mongolian money. Togrog (Trog for short abbreviated MNT) which has a conversion rate of about 1,150 MNT to 1 USD. It was almost comical to look at prices. A typical dish at a restaurant was at least 1,000 MNT and typically more. We visited the ATM and had to laugh at the monetary entry. It made me nervous to enter 100,000 MNT into the machine. It just didn't feel right.

We then went over to the State Department Store to exchange some money. The really spectacular thing about Mongolia and using money in Ulan Bator is that it wasn't a big deal to use USD. Everyone in the city pretty much accepted the money as easily as they accepted MNT.

After our money exchange escapade, we went to find the shaman in town. Emma and Teri had a guide book for Mongolia and thought visiting a shaman would be a fine way to begin our adventure. We tried to follow the map, but could find no street names. There was nothing labeled in the city. By the general shape of the roads and the use of landmarks, we decided that we had found the shaman ger by the large spear adorned with blue scarfs and animal heads as well as horse hair around the tip of the spear. In front of the Ger entrance was a bench where several people were waiting to see the shaman. We waited for a bit, ready to go in and chat with the shaman. It was a general consensus that we were all getting hungry so we decided that we would all go in at once instead of individually.

We stepped inside the ger and were greeted with a distant kind of welcoming. Immediately to our left was a set of benches where guests are meant to sit. To the right was a huge looming baby eagle. His wing-span had to have been at least 5 feet, and we were told he was only 8 months old. The ger was filled with animal furs, bones, and shaman equipment. The shaman equipment included a table with a laptop and internet access. We weren't allowed to take photos in the shaman ger. This was to be expected, since shamanism is still a religion in Mongolia.

Hungry:

After our Shaman experience, we decided that we should go back to the guest house to pick up anyone else that wanted to go have dinner with us. Emma and Teri had picked out a nice brewery and German restaurant they wanted to go to. We were game, so after a small rest, we headed out to find a taxi.

Unlike China, a lot of the taxis in Mongolia are not metered nor do they have taxi on them anywhere. I wondered the whole time if they were just people who were willing to pick up hitchhikers for a fee. We tried one taxi and they wanted 50 dollars for the trip. We said no way and flagged down another who was willing to do it for 3,000 MNT and had Snoopy on his front windshield. As Cullen says, "Snoopy is your friend."

We arrived at the restaurant only to find out that it was closed. And it smelled so good, we were very disappointed.

The next taxi was a bit easier to get, but harder to direct. It seemed that they had just as hard a time using the street names as we did. After much pointing and path tracing, we managed to get to the BD's Mongolian BBQ we had seen on our way to the Khongor Guest House when we arrived in town. It is actually the same chain that we have in the states, and Cullen says it's the exact same set-up. I think the only thing that is missing in the states is the small table off to the side where they have the cooked horse meat.

We attempted to order some beers and such with dinner, but they said there was no drinking. We just chalked it up to it being Sunday, but we were informed by our tour guide days later that the Mongolian election was on Monday, so drinking was forbidden on the Saturday and Sunday prior to the election. Voting is mandatory in Mongolia and they appear to want everyone sober when they are voting. This is quite clever of them.

When our bill arrived, I had to give a bit of a giggle. It's pretty rare you will ever get a 69,000 bill in the states without having a heart attack, unless you are quite wealthy.

Off to bed with us, ready for the next day full of adventure.

Trip-like preperations

Tomorrow we leave the Beijing Railway station at 7:45 am to head over to Ulan Bator (also spelled Ulaanbaatar) Mongolia for 4 days and return. The trip takes 30 hours and fortunately, this time we got Deluxe Soft Sleeper seats. It was through a travel agency that we bought the out-bound and return tickets. This was my first real encounter with a travel agency. We decided that they are not really for us. Their response time was amazingly prompt and they were very attentive. I have no complaints. They do their job well.

We went to the agency to get the out-bound tickets, and will have to pick the return tickets up in Ulan Bator. Since we were out, we decided to explore a bit. We had a decent Pizza Hut dinner in another clean and nicely decorated restaurant. I still find myself impressed with the Pizza Huts here.

We began to walk down the street and noticed a mall. This mall had crafts and all the supplies for lots of different crafts. There was also a salon supply area that was lined on both sides with supply stores. There were at least 20 stores selling mostly the same products. Hair gels, Hairspray, clippers, razor-cut scissors, trimming scissors, barber chairs, ect filled these tiny shops to overflowing. For anyone who has ever been in Hong Kong Food market and seen all the small shops in the mall over-flowing.. this is about the same thing, but on a much more compact and more over-stocked fashion. It's something difficult to explain.

After wandering about in this shopping mall for long enough so the sun wouldn't blind us while we walked west, we crossed the street with the intention of finding a taxi to take us home. The typical distraction occurred, and we were distracted by some dark alleyways.

We found an amazing Houtong area filled with homes, shops, and small restaurants. We meandered through the maze of turns and twists and came out on the other end, ready for home. When we finally reached the apartment we were happy and entirely too exhausted.

Next door

As I have know, but had yet to explore until Friday, we are right next door to the Beijing International Sculpture Park. We took this holiday opportunity to also explore this little slice of the Beijing pie.

The park is completely surrounded by roads. I didn't expect to find any quiet or calm in this park. Despite my expectation of complete chaos, I did find a bit of calm. There were very few people pushing or rushing to get anywhere. This is very uncommon in Beijing. Kites on very long strings were drifting up in the cool wind. The temperature was in the 70s and very low humidity. The sky was mostly cloudless, and pale.

The entry fee to enter the park was 10 yuan each. We wandered in, not quite knowing what to expect, other than the few famous photos of the horses and the whales in the ground that we had seen so far.
The size of the park was remarkable. We had attempted to enter the park the day before the closing ceremonies, and we were told that it was closed. We suspect they were setting up fireworks that day. The entrance we had tried to go in was about a block from the one we actually entered in on This Friday.

The walk-way to cross the street was actually a pedestrian underpass only accessible through the park itself. A perfect pedestrian accident preventative. The landscaping, as is all around Beijing, is remarkable. Their flowers are all in bloom, and healthy. All the shrubs are kept cut, as well as the weeping willows. I am certain that the person that trims back the willows is much much shorter than either Cullen or I. It's difficult to walk under the trees without a swift swat at our heads.

The two ponds in this park were both beautiful and interesting. The first pond we encountered had some fascinating sculptures, of course, and had bumper boats. They were deserted at the time, but we were certain that since the bumper boats had guns on them, and there were what appeared to be targets in the center of the pond, there was a game afoot. Our suspicions were later confirmed on our way out of the park.

The second pond had a small island on one side with a bridge leading to it, and some stepping stones mostly submerged on the other. Looking down into the green slimy water, I had that queezy feeling of slipping in. I was imagining the rest of the walk through the park completely soaked. We both managed to make it across with no real issues... though one of the oxen-shaped stepping stones was quite unstable.

This second pond had children rolling around in blow-up tubes with nets attached to one side, to keep them from falling out. I was wishing that I was five again, and able to hop into one of those huge floating tubes without sinking it.

The diversity of the sculptures was matched only by the range of the countries they came from. Many were from China, as should be expected, but there were some from Czechoslovakia, Russian, and Japan for sure. Most were impressionistic renditions of reality, but about a third was complete abstract. There was a lot of chrome. It was hard to ignore in the bright sun.

The other park explorers were quite diverse. There were two musicians practicing some sort of string instrument. There were so many people flying kites. Some people were riding around in little golf-cart/ go-cart like vehicles. There were enough amusement-type things in the park to keep children and adults both entertained.

I have a feeling that I will be spending more time in this park as things begin to cool off and the crowds start to thin.

Francois and the glass

About two weeks ago, Cullen and I took a trip over to the Carrefour in Chaoyang district. We went upstairs to the appliance and housewares department. We decided to purchase a toaster-oven so we could make some tasty chocolate chip cookies and other quick and easy treats and dinners. This purchase took some time to decided on, considering that there are only 2 of us, but we have been used to having an oven for a while. We finally decided on a toaster oven and started to meander about among the other odd appliances and devices and into the dishes and eating implements.

On the end-cap of one of the aisles, almost directly in the center of the store was a beta fish display. There had to be about 3 rows deep and 4 rows high of beta fish in little cups with lids that had a single hole punched out of the top so the betas could have air. One of the sales associates had put two of the betas in a cup and was watching them fight. It was very peculiar to see someone do this and not get reprimanded by the other sales associates around, even the manager.. or so she appeared to be, didn't say much to her. The betas in the jar just looked oddly at each other. In the three minutes it took me to pick a beta, neither of them had started attacking the other.

A fish bowl was no where to be found, all they had was the little plant with a glass bowl under it for filling with water... I was told that this works for the betas, so I was willing to give it a try.

After completing our trip to the supermarket, we hurried to put our new scaly friend into the bowl. I wasn't going to rush the choice of a name for him. It's very important, a name. He couldn't be just any fish, he was special. George or Randal just wouldn't do. I didn't think that Freddie or Thomas would do either. I held him tightly the whole taxi ride home, pondering what his name would be. His shiny blue body with beautiful streaks of white and lovely inconspicuous hints of red. I couldn't rush this decision.

For two days I contemplated... agonizing over what name would please him... what name would fit...

Considering that he was from a French supermarket, I thought... yes, it would have to be a French sounding name.... so Francois it would be.

He is quite happily swimming about in his tiny bowl with the plant threatening to bloom above his head. The beautiful green jack-in-the-pulpit adds some life and joy to our little apartment. It's a new set of friends we are pleased to welcome and overjoyed to see happy and healthy.

Bears and Birds

Chinese Icon:
Despite the warnings about the state of the zoo, and the obvious low entry fee, Cullen and I set out on Wednesday to see the Giant Pandas that are China's most symbolic living animal. The ticket boot was not met by an orderly line, or criss-crossed with tapes to create a long, single file of humans. This booth was swarmed by a seething mass of people ready to throw money into the gaping maws of the booth to receive printed slips in exchange. The trick was to push your way through the mass and slip your money in. Cullen, the master of Chinese order, slid his money in and received two yellow tickets... for the “Beijing Changhe Water Tour Package.” We entered the zoo and they ripped the end most tab from the ticket.

Slipping through the slithering mass, we made it to some air, far past the giant panda exhibit, out into an area with peacocks, pheasants, and other ground nesting birds. The cages of these birds were not only small, but barren. The floors were covered with dusty dirt. There were a few branches for perching and a small house-like structure for roosting. We moved on.

The bobcat cage had a shattered panel of glass that was still up. This not only made it difficult to see the bobcat, but it also made me wonder what had happened to shatter the glass. Was it old, had one of these children thrown a rock at it or banged too hard? How long had it been that way? All curiosity aside, I hope they change that panel soon.

We figured that the “Changhe Water Tour” was probably a safer bet than trying to squeeze through the writhing mass of people and suffer with the animals. I can't tell you how many times I saw a child not only crawl on railings they shouldn't have, but bang on cages, glass, and other things to get the animal's attention. Not to mention adults that threw food over the cages, or banged on them as well. I was a bit saddened by the state of leisure these people tormented these animals with.. but I suppose this was something I have seen many times before. Just not on such a large scale. It was as if there was such a mass of people there, it would have been impossible to stop them all from doing it.

When we saw the immense line for the tour... we stood for about 20 min. in the line and had enough. We couldn't take the wait. There had to be somewhere we could get some small relief from the crowd. We decided to go visit the penguins. They had to be less crowded. We saw the giraffes on the way, and they had about the same amount of room that the giraffes have in Houston. We got distracted by the monkeys and the large birds prior to making it to the Penguins. The birds cages were a bit small for the numbers of birds to a cage. Though they did have both an outside and inside cage for many of them. The gate was open today so they could wander outside if they like. My best guess is that they do this so they can be heated in the cold winter, instead of left out in the inclement weather. Parrots wouldn't do too well in freezing temperatures.

Entry into the penguins exhibit was another ticket for 10 yuan (about $1.50) which we suspected would make the crowd a bit smaller. We were wrong. The exhibit was so small that the crowd was pressed up against the glass of the penguin habitat. They were, once again climbing and banging. There were probably about ten penguins in the habitat, and of the ten only three were facing the crowd. The rest were all turned away. I don't blame them for a second.

Cullen had it. He was ready to go. I insisted that we see the Pandas. The reviews of the zoo had all said that though the rest of the zoo was a bit sad, the pandas had it good and were well taken care of. The panda exhibit and research center here in Beijing is sponsored by Volkswagen, so that's probably a major reason that the pandas are in such great quarters. We stood in line to enter the Giant Panda exhibit, ready for whatever that entailed. Cullen was anxious of course. He had been ready to go long before my request to see the pandas, so he was practically doing a dance to get out. Once we entered the gates to the panda exhibit (Our ticket seemed to be good for that as well), the crowd didn't thin at all. We were ushered through an old panda exhibit, with no current occupants, out into the “Olympic Panda Exhibit” where we caught a glimpse of 2 pandas playing outside. We entered the building for the “Indoor Visiting Center” and saw about four pandas lying around in the sunny glass enclosure. They seemed to be quite content with their home. Once we exited the building, we wandered around it for a little bit longer and caught a rare treat. One of the pandas had climbed up a tree, and was relaxing and gnawing on the tree. The panda lounged long enough for me to catch several stunning photos of him. It was time to head out of the crowd. We were done.

Run AWAY! RUN Away!:
Exiting the zoo was almost as difficult as entering. The mass at the exit gate was just as thick, and monitored by police. I don't know how he caught them, but while we were exiting, some youths were trying to sneak in. The guy that was watching the gate actually caught them. I suppose if you do it all day, you tend to get an eye for these things.

We headed for food, it was already about 3pm and we were starving. We had tried twice to eat some Chinese vendor foods, but they were so horrible we threw them out. The weenie on a stick tasted as if it was mostly flour or dough, and the two drumsticks were covered in an inch thick layer of breading where the chicken inside was cold. So we had to find real food. We walked down a street and found a restaurant that said it was Muslim cuisine. I'm still not sure what Muslim cuisine is, other than it has no pork, but it was good enough to satisfy us for the time. We had a potato dish, some chopped green beans, and a dish with eggplant and beef. I ordered three, certain that at least one of them would be palatable to us. Amazingly, all three were favorable. The beef had portions that neither of us would touch, but the potatoes and green beans were tasty.

Satisfied that we had enough to eat, the search for a taxi began. We continued down the street, seeing many taxis, but all full, or ignoring us. We switched sides of the street, and finally got a taxi. About a block from where we hopped into the taxi, we heard tons of song birds. There were cages upon cages strung up in the trees. I was uncertain if they were selling the birds, or if this was their way of keeping the songs in that area. The sound was lovely, yet a bit out of place in such a busy intersection.

I still smell the masses of people on my clothes.

VIP Special

** this image is from http://www.bjcyjc.com****

Flying Tricksters:
Of the many possibilities we have read about that appear in the theaters of Beijing, the one that has excited me most is the prospect of seeing a theatrical acrobatic show.

We set out at about 5:39pm, knowing that the show starts every night at 7:15pm. We thought this would give us time to enjoy a meal, then see the show. The traffic was stop and go... so we arrived at the theater around 6:40pm. Just enough time to get some tickets and head into the theater. We bought the most modestly priced tickets (180 Yuan= $30) and were ready for some back-row action. When we walked through the glass doors, the odor of popcorn was overwhelming. The sound of the microwave ding and the continuous pop was just enough to elicit 33 yuan of concession nonsense out of us. This was for 2 drinks and a bag of popcorn. I was impressed that they didn't even open the microwave popcorn bag for you, ensuring that you get your money's worth.

As I mentioned, buying the cheapest seats, we were expecting to be sitting in the balcony, or near the back rows... Our seat was 3^rd row on the aisle. We were in VIP seating. I had forgotten to take into account that this was a major tourist attraction, and though we bought the cheapest seats that were listed in English, the possibility that there actually were cheaper seats didn't dawn on me until we were lead to our VIP seats. Once we were sitting, we realized that all the westerners were in the VIP section and only a few Chinese. Though it shouldn't have surprised me, it did. It makes me feel a bit on-the-spot when we are all herded into a specific area. I know I should have expected this from a tourist attraction, but I'm really not much of a tourist normally...

After we were settled and munching down on some mediocre microwave popcorn, a girl was walking the aisles with ice cream snacks. These chocloate covered ice creams were the equivalent of Eskimo pies on a stick. When she came by, Cullen asked for 2. I was impressed that he didn't argue when she quoted him the price of 10 yuan for each. To buy an entire box of them costs that much... but Cullen didn't even hesitate. Usually when he goes to buy ice cream from a vendor it costs about 1 to 3 yuan. We have been charged 6yuan for ice cream before, but in the Sanlitun bar district, where they know westerners will pay for it. Once again, another thing I should have expected. Theaters always overcharge for such things, why would Beijing be any different? The Ice cream was good. All of the staff at the theater spoke very fluent and clear English. I have no complaints about the service, or the prices when all things are considered. The service is well worth the price.

The show itself was a spectacle of talent and showmanship. The Opening with live Macaws flying over the crowd was awe-inspiring. Then came the laser projected at the crowd onto the transparent curtain that had the name of the show, “Flying acrobatics show” painted with two macaws in neon black-light reactive paint. The talking head that was projected with the green lazer introduced the show in Chinese with English subtitles on 2 different screens over the exits directly off stage to the left and right. We missed them until the intro was over...

The acrobats started with a little intro dance while they set up the see-saw that would serve as the launching platform for the first set of acrobatic stunts. The entire show was stunt after stunt. Bicycles, spinning plates, feats of strength and flexibility, flipping bowls, and even a large apparatus that consisted of two human sized hamster wheels that were connected so as to rotate around. There were only 3 errors that occurred late in the show. The first relieved Cullen and I. The tricks they were doing were so intense, it was good to see that they were still human. The first two were just spacial judgment errors while leaping through hoops. The last was an error with a bicycle. The rider had not gotten enough momentum prior to doing her hand stand on the bicycle and the bicycle slowed too much for her to finish the stunt. With the number of possible misteaks they could have made, just three was amazing. Just about everything they did, other than wear fancy costumes, and riding bicycles in circles, was the result of intense practice and constant training. I was impressed.

The show ended with the two macaws and two cockatoos flying over the crowd. As the curtains went down, the excited chatter of the birds echoed and overwhelmed the music they were playing to close.

Typical After thought:

We filed out with the rest of the crowd, past the acrobats selling dvds of the performance for future enjoyment. We were ready for some food. It was 8:30pm on a Tuesday night, so we were sure we would need to find a restaurant soon. We went for the subway with no specific destination in mind. One stop later, we filed out with a small group of passengers. Once on the surface, we started walking. We were exactly opposite the Italian Embassy. The neon signs on the strip of restaurants we passed were spectacular. China does neon right. Nothing really looked too appealing, so we continued to wander down the street. Trying to keep me from falling in the heels I decided to wear to the show was proving an exercise in extreme caution and balance. We passed a street crossing bridge and right around the corner, hidden a bit back, was Annie's Italian restaurant. I had read some reviews of the restaurant. They offer take-out and it is said to be really good. We decided to give it a try.

We sat down and started browsing the menu. Their selection looked to be good, and their atmosphere was so very interesting. The temperature this night was in the 50s or so, and the outdoor seating was deserted. When we sat inside and started to look around, we realized that not only was there a big tree right in the middle of the restaurant (it was protected by an acrylic box), but the ceiling was glass. You could see straight to the night sky. It was beautiful.

The table setting included, among the usual pieces, a blown glass container for both vinegar and oil. The oil sat in an outer bubble with a cork in it and the vinegar sat in an inner bubble who's cork was in the opposite side of the container. There was a loop to hang the contraption by right in the center, so it could be tilted either way so as to pour out your desired liquid. We were so captivated by the blown glass contraption that the waiter sold us one.

The juice was fresh, the food was good, and the service was friendly and timely. This restaurant is another on our short list of places we will gladly return to.

With our bellies full and our appetite for adventure satiated as well, we headed home. One more item off our checklist.

National Day Holidays

This week, the Week of September 29-Oct.3 is a national holiday. It is in remembrance of the day China was made into the People's Republic of China. We have decided that this would be a great time to get some of the things off our check list. The weather has cooled down and and is ranging from the 60s to the 70s during the day. The nights have gotten into the 40s. They are warming a bit by today. I am certain that this slight warmth is going to chill us again by surprise. I can't wait to see how the heating works. The heaters in the building are all connected to a central system. They haven't turned them on yet, but I'm sure excited to find out how warm they will make it.

The photo posting is still a touch and go sort of thing. I have to strike it lucky to get them to upload.