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Asia, Destinations

The Cold and Long Road to Datong

December 2, 2014 • By

Determined to escape the pollution, I set off from Pingyao to Datong early Sunday morning. An English-speaking guide “John” accompanied me for what would be a five-hour drive and believe me at some points it seemed longer but John survived a myriad of questions from me in good form.

John, 26, is single but doesn’t live with his parents. It is rare for Chinese children to leave home before marriage but that is changing. I gathered from John that his overbearing and maybe pushy mother (sounds like most mothers) drove him to seek his independence sooner rather than later. John learned English at a young age because his cousin, a prominent interpreter, exposed him to the language at family gatherings. It likely helped that his parents as educators surrounded him an environment conducive to learning. He is an avid reader and has been his entire life.

Datong, China Tourism, Touring China, Datong Tourism,

When I learned John has a brother, I questioned the one-child rule and he explained that his parents “broke the rules” when they had him (he is 7 years younger). The government could have severely punished the parents but instead they were fined. His parents make about $500 USD a month (that is an average teaching salary). John lives with a roommate in an apartment but his parents bought him a $700,000 RB ($120USD) apartment for when he marries (it’s rented for now). While John is in no hurry to marry, he has dated a few women here and there. His last girlfriend came from Beijing, a city where “you lose all dignity living.” It makes me very excited to get to Beijing. It sounds a lot like New York City. I understand why he is no rush to marry after learning that in China the husband’s family must pay the wife’s family between 10,000-RB-1mil RB ($2,000-$200kUSD) depending on the family’s wealth and position. Additionally, the male pays for the wedding. I take back my previous assessment from a few days ago. Chinese women should really push for the big wedding!

As we passed young trees and newly constructed highways and rail lines, John explained there is a lot of new money in this area because the farmers sold their land to the government who in turn sold it to developers. The farmers who sold their land 10 years ago for $10,000RB($2k USD) are probably pretty distraught. That same land is now worth 1 million RB ($200k USD). The construction that is going on in China is truly remarkable. When I mentioned this to John, he said people joke that the national bird in China is the CRANE…the construction crane. He isn’t kidding. For as far as the eye can see, there are cranes soaring in the skyline.

John and I spent some time talking about the government and the direction the country is heading. To protect him, I will simply say he believes the people have seen overall life improvements and that the current government has worked hard to weed out corruption and build a strong economy. In his city alone, four or five of the local government officials committed a crime and went to jail. I told him it was a lot like my city (Chicago). When I asked him about China’s relationship with Russia, he paused and then said, “Nobody likes Russia but we are next to them so have to make it work.” He spoke at length of the hard times the Chinese endured in the 1800s being beaten by the Tibetans, Mongolians and Muslims and that the country really didn’t thrive until the emergence of Communism. The consensus is to most nationals that China is in a good place. After spending so much time getting to know John, the last thing I wanted to do was venture beyond the car and into the rapidly decreasing temperatures but alas the time came to brave the cold.

First stop, the Wooden Pagoda.

The Wooden Pagoda is the oldest and highest wooden structure in China dating back to 1056 and the Liao Dynasty. People in China refer to it as the First Pagoda in the World because of its distinct architectural structure. It’s very similar to how Legos or Lincoln Logs fit together with brackets as it’s connected by tenors and mortises and not a single nail or rivet used. It’s a beautiful display of traditional Chinese architecture something very rare today. Upon entering the pagoda, a large “golden” Buddha statue greets worshippers and the rest of the structure reveals nine levels of which only five are visible from the outside.

We drove another hour high into the mountains to see the Hanging Temple. The Hanging Temple is built into a cliff on Mount Heng, one of the five sacred mountains of China. It is likely a creation of the Northern Wei dynasty from around 386-534 and is the only known temple that combines all three Chinese traditional religions – Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism. In 2010, Time Magazine deemed it the “top 10 most odd dangerous buildings.” It’s held together with oak crossbeams and chiseled into ridges of the mountain. From a distance, it looks like it’s simply a carving not something habitable. The monastery is located in a small canyon basin, protecting it from fierce weather elements. I wish the same could be said for me. The minute I opened the car door I experienced such a strong gust of wind I thought I somehow catapulted myself from a mountain range in China to the North Pole. No way I could survive the 30-minute hike across the basin to the temple but I mustered up the strength to run to the look out point and snap some photos. I’m not disappointed. It was worth seeing from afar and much better than buying a post card.

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Freezing, overlooking the basin with the Hanging Temple in the background

A full day of touring and being in the car took its toll on my body, bladder and stomach but alas I arrived for my two night stay at the Howard Johnson in Datong. If you are curious, (I surely was), the HoJo is the same now defunct hotel in the USA. The carpeted floors in my room contained a year’s worth of Chinese hair, the shower leaked to completely flood the bathroom floor and the room temperature stayed steady at 22 degrees C (I require at least 26-30) and the biggest tragedy of all —-no Wi-Fi. Because this trip is about finding the silver lining, the hotel did feature HBO Asia and I enjoyed Fast and Furious (first time), Despicable Me, Jerry McGuire, Newsroom (new episodes of season 3) and BBC, which of course went to black whenever the protests in Hong Kong were reported. Back to what the man in Dali told me on the plane, “This is China Man.”

It will not be lost on many of you that whenever I attempted to search Datong on the Internet (yahoo’s best) “online dating” popped up as a relevant item. There was a television special on “First Look Asia” that reviewed all the online dating tools people are using in China, Japan, India and other parts of Asia. After watching this segment, I want to bring back the age of arranged marriage. I am convinced I would have faired much better under the antediluvian system.

Lastly, I also wanted to set the record straight on Chinese culture in the United States v. China mainly because each of my guides commented on American perceptions of the Chinese – and this pertains mostly to food. To the dismay of many Americans, fortune cookies do not exist in China and the food we eat at home represents only a sliver of what the rest of the country consumes. The first Chinese people in the U.S. originated from Guangzhou commonly referred to us as Canton. It’s located on the Pearl River near Hong Kong and Macau and is the third largest Chinese city. Many “Cantonese” were likely brought over as slaves to build the railroads on the West Coast. While the Cantonese people are biologically Chinese, the rest of the country considers their language and customs foreign. The characters are part of the same system but utilize different pronunciation. The Northerners dialect is harsher and aggressive and the Cantonese language is more singsongy.  They don’t understand each other!

Additionally, Chinese people use their family name first and their given name last so I would be Glynn Kelly or in my guide’s case Loeng Fu. The women do not take the husband’s last name.  John said many families who wish to send their children abroad to school or may eventually move abroad have started naming their children more Western friendly names for example, his cousin named his daughter Kai Lee. John thinks it’s very funny when he meets Americans Chinese tourists because they start the journey saying they are Chinese and end the trip saying they are Americans (who just look Chinese). I guess that’s the same as me saying I am German and Irish and then quickly admitting I’m nothing of the sort (except I am definitely OCD like the Germans).

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Asia, Destinations

Pain in the Neck

November 29, 2014 • By

I’ve definitely asked for trouble this trip. After turning up the forced heating unit to 30 degrees C (86 F) and snuggling under two duvet covers to watch Bridget Jones’ Diary for the 300th time on my MAC, I attempted sleep. A short time later this strange smell that I vaguely recognized started to permeate my room. Again, I am not a scientist but it’s a mix of sulfites or something very similar to rotten eggs or if you live in Chicago the smell you ingest when traveling through Gary, Indiana.

Pingyao ancient city wall

Pingyao ancient city wall

I sized up the situation and realized the forced heat draws the air from the outside and funnels it inside. The air is contaminated. I am about to die in this town and no one will know for days. I created a type of mask under the covers but then I developed shortness of breath and panicked that I might asphyxiate myself. I jumped from my bed and ran to the door but I had dead bolted myself inside and frightened I fumbled with the lock in the dark. Finally, the door opened and I thwarted my head outside and breathed in….crap. That was foolish and a bad idea.

I turned off the heat, added more layers, left the door unlocked and dived back under the covers with my phone next to me. At least this way, if I suffocated, they would find my body and return it home before the flies and cats gnawed on it.

Thankfully for all of you, I woke up exhausted but without injury. I complained to the only English-speaking woman at my guesthouse and she said this time of year many locals are sick especially the kids and that they all wait for it to snow to clear the air. My lungs cannot take this type of pollution – Not to dwell on it (but I will) the air is intolerable and now I’ve developed a smokers’ cough. I can’t even comment on the landscape of this area because the visibility is less than a quarter mile. Envision the sky right before a whiteout (snow storm). The sky ceiling lowers hovering at building tops and the snow consumes the sky and envelopes the landscape. This is what the smog is doing now. I feel claustrophobic and want to escape. The pollution and the city walls have me trapped.

I put the night’s escapades behind me and readied for the day. The chef prepared Chinese pancakes, which tasted airy and light almost like an egg white. They don’t use diary here so my “crepe” consisted of some rice paper concoction and bananas. Since my friend Edward told me a local remedy for the pollution cough involved honey, I opted for the honey over the chocolate and poured it on thick. I’ll try anything. Satisfied with my breakfast, it was time to start the adventure of the day.

I piled in the car with six Chinese tourists and one English speaking (very weak) Belgium guy for a tour. I commandeered the front seat and managed to control the heat knobs until the driver caught me. I needed something to do to occupy my time since I couldn’t read the signs and my fellow tourists were jabbering in Mandarin (and to beleaguer the point I couldn’t see 5 feet in front of me). After driving for a good 45 minutes, I looked over to the driver and simply said, “Where are we going?” He replied in broken English, “Jung Family.” Oh yeah the Jung home just what I have been dying to see. I guess I misunderstood what I signed up for last night in my tirade about the pollution and looks of the town.

We finally arrived at the WANG complex not to be confused with the Jung home and the driver politely told us to return to a designated spot at noon. I did a quick assessment and realized I was going to be at this fortress outside for two hours. In addition to the pollution making for a less desirable stay, it’s cold. I don’t do cold. I made a pact with myself that I would suck it up and make this about exercise – walking outside for two hours will be good for my heart and with the beautiful fresh air (insert sarcasm) it will do wonders for my health. To my utter excitement, the first thing I see when I walk through the complex gates is a sign in English and Mandarin, “No Spitting.” Not that I am condoning spitting in anyway but even I have developed a wicked cough with this declining air quality and now my lungs are filled with gunk and the thought has occurred to me that maybe I should take up the Chinese sport. It’s very popular and I bet I sure could attract quite a crowd. The question remains. Do you think the tourists obliged the stated policy? And the answer is…..NO.

I really need to stay dehydrated on these touring days because the bathroom situation continues to be an issue. After two (shall I say) stops, I officially swore off liquids for the duration of this trip but I made the most of my excursion to the Wang (Wang Jia Da Yuan) home. It is one of the largest residential complexes of the Ming and Qing dynasties. Known as the Forbidden City of Shanxi, the Wang family’s wealth came from land farming and later trading. It is quite a decorative fortress with hundreds of rooms and gardens. The architecture is the first where I have seen the dragon showcased so prominently. I conquered that in about an hour and even participated in a mini photo shoot with a Chinese man and his wife who took pity on me and flashed about 10 pictures of me posing along the mainframe of the complex.

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I exited out the wrong side of the compound and after panicking momentarily (I figured I had an hour before I had to report back) I nearly collided with a wedding party. Before I realized it, the group moved inside for lunch. The awaiting car and decor outside the restaurant gave me a sneak peak as to what happens. Later in the day, I saw a handful of other restaurants set up with large flower bouquets and red balloon arches. I also noticed brides wear both red and white wedding dresses.

I meandered around the parking lot of the Wang home for a bit. With no sign of the driver and the tourist office empty, I narrowed my sights on a restaurant. I stepped inside and almost chocked on the smoke. This seemed like a bad idea and I motioned for the door but paused to consider my options. It was either endure the pollution and cold or cope with the smoke. What’s the verdict you say? For anyone who knows me well, I hate smoke and cold equally but I elected the smoke and made a mask out of my scarf and sat uncomfortably but warm for 50 minutes before I bolted to the car. My clothes and hair wreaked and I vowed to take my business to smoke free establishments. (PS….they don’t exist).

We returned to Pingyao and I wandered around the city walls losing myself in endless thought. I really do love the lacquer jewelry boxes but retail therapy may not be in the cards this trip because my bags came packed full.  I did want to let my audience know that lacquer is believed to originate in Pingyao around 200 BC. The jewelry and Kleenex boxes are stunning. There are various colors, sizes, designs and carvings and many are decorated with patterns of birds, flowers and Chinese figures. The surfaces are smooth and the colors bright. They are simple but beautiful and would make for the perfect gift. It’s my hope my rich Chinese husband can buy me one when he gets a chance.

…And now for the highlight of the day –a massage. I signed up for a full body Chinese massage at 2:30 pm. She came to my room where I lay face up fully clothed on the bed. She poked at my eyelids and forehead and then kneaded my head before she turned my neck around like a light bulb. I assured her it would not twist off as much as she tried. She methodically moved from arm to arm and leg to leg then my stomach, which held up despite murmurs of unhappiness. She targeted all my aches and pains and then she motioned for me to turn on my stomach. There was some commotion and some language barrier issues and she showed me a comb and I went with it. This process gives new meaning to the phrase “comb out the knots.” Here I always thought it was for the tangles in my hair. Guess what? I was wrong (see below). I was equally aghast at the sight but I promise it did not hurt any more than a deep tissue massage. At one point, she seemed to irritate a few of my moles and I did start to worry that I would need to spend more time and possibly more money at the dermatologist but so far so good.

And then…like that…it was over.  When she made a hand gesture with her phone, I thought she wanted to call someone. She took my phone and snapped a picture of my back to show me. Startled, she somehow relayed the words “toxins” and “skin.” My immediate reaction – The Chinese are definitely poisoning me. I must have the plague and should be quarantined.

Now standing, she pointed to the bathroom and I followed her. She held the showerhead and said “no today.” Loosely interpreted, she intended to say, “your back is so fucked up right now water may hurt.” Yep got it. On a positive note, the 90-minute torture session only cost me $26 so I guess I should be thankful I didn’t ask for two hours.

 Locals shoes made here and I really wanted to buy but no big girl sizes here (probably for the best)


Locals shoes made here and I really wanted to buy but no big girl sizes here (probably for the best)

That experience warranted some shopping so back through the alleyways I weaved and into the stores I browsed. Two scarves later, I tore myself away from the lacquered jewelry boxes and returned to my guesthouse to sample the local beef. It stands up to the hype.

You may be sad to learn that I am off to Datong tomorrow and leaving the city of Pingyao behind for the black cats, dogs and locals to manage.  I’m one step closer to the Peninsula where the air will be rotten but the ventilation system superior. I’m hopeful I can find someone to detoxify me there too. On a side note, I really did like Pingyao. It warrants a trip in the spring or summer when the air is clearer and the shops can be appreciated.

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