My Last New City

That's right! Can you believe it? My months of adventure are coming to a close. I'm in Beijing and this will be the last place in which I lay my head before I return to the United States of America.

Arrived Thursday, May 21st to this city of monumental attractions. Thus far, I've walked myself to exhaustion trying to see all the secrets of the Forbidden City, the charms of the Summer Palace, the turrets of the Great Wall, and the altars of the Temple of Heaven. I know no other modern city like Beijing. These 1000 year old historic icons are all easily reached by bus or subway. My $3 a night hostel is located in a hutong a ten minute walk from both Tiananmen Square and a glistening shopping center.

So many things converge here/clash here it's almost comical. On my way to the bus stop, I pass a sex shop rather overtly displaying it's products and yet I can't update my blog at an internet cafe - as of mid-May you must be registered with the police to post your opinion online. In the hutong, mothers carry babies with the crotches cut out of their pants past street carts and one-story, gray tile houses on roads too narr ow for cars. When they reach the multilane street of Meishi, they can board a brand new city bus equipped with televisions and handicap capacities that announces stops in both Chinese and English.

Today is Thursday - my last full day. Plane leaves tomorrow afternoon and will land in the US of A the evening of Friday, May 29th. My bag's packed, my money's spent, and I'm ready. I'm ready to come home.

Climate Change Take II

It's time for another installment of Brianna's Climate Change observations. Whereas my last installment addressed conversations I have had concerning the issue, I find that this time around observations are primarily what I have to share.

We begin in Fiji, where the water is hot. At school, we learn that as the atmosphere warms so does the ocean and this warming has all kinds of interesting effects. But off the Washington coast - in Seattle - this is difficult to gauge. The water's still pretty darn cold. It's not in Fiji. It's hot. That's really what struck me most - that's what I remember. The water off Mana was hot - like bath water, like at some points unpleasant to be in - hot. The coral was dead or dying, and I could feel why. And then the cyclone hit, and feed. It needed no further encouragement. Warmer water means more energy. The more energy in the water, the stronger the storm. This particular one grew to become Tropical Depression 04F of the 2008 - 2009 South Pacific cyclone season. I've never experienced a tropical storm before. It kept us up at night, stranded us - people missed buses, missed flights. People died. It wasn't even a "serious" storm. I bet it didn't even make the news back home.

As to the effect of warmer oceans the world is most worried about - rising sea levels - the observations I made on that account where made primarily in Bangladesh. I never did make it to Tuvalu, and the Maldives were just plain out of my price range before this trip even began. But of all places, Bangladesh is the place to witness how many people would be devastated by a rise in sea level. Millions. It makes New Orleans seem trifling - and it wasn't. But if we claim to have learned anything from witnessing the inequality of demographic most affected in our own delta, we should open our eyes and see the people who - on a world stage - shall also be injustly treated. No one has made evacuation preparations for them either, and no one really seems to care, or worse, think any need to be made.

India was different. Bigger, badder, more affluent, more noticable - different. If it hasn't already, India will surpass China as the world's most populous country. In turn, - if it hasn't already - China will surpass the United States in carbon dioxide emissions. I don't expect India will be far behind on that count either. They are both building. China much more noticeably, but both seem to think the more concrete in the air and cars on the ground, the better. When I arrived in China, I marveled at the width of the roads. I only noticed because they were nearly empty. New eight lane roadways with nothing but a few taxis. They've been built for the cars China hopes to have, and soon. One third of the world's concrete is in China. Everywhere you look something is going up. And there's no talk of conservation, the environment, even of eco-tourism.

In Japan, there were posters about carbon dioxide emissions. After signing of the Kyoto Protocol, Japan has taken some major steps toward reduction, but their total is till greater than all of Africa's - I read that on a poster reminding me to turn off the lights in my hostel. I've seen nothing like that in China. India at least gave lip service to a "green" infrastructure - mainly to accommodate eco-friendly tourism, but at least it's there. China just builds on. Another United States of America in carbon emissions. Oh man, does something need to be done.

Xi'an - Land of Buried Warriors

I went to see those famous on Saturday, May 16th. Qin Shi Huang's Army of Terracotta Warriors unearthed after standing guard over his body two thousand years.Each - thousands - of the lifesize soldiers is unique. Their face, hairstyle, armor distinct. I thought the Pharaohs claimed the prize for obsessive preparation for the afterlife - but this guy replicated his entire army. Horses and everything. I wonder what he thought was waiting for him on the other side.

Those not famous I saw on Monday, May 18th. The tomb of Emperor Jingdi. As he buried terracotta replicas of his entire court - livestock and all - the figures stand at only about two feet. The Emperor himself lies under a massive earthen mound in a burial complex also containing the tomb of his favorite empress.I climbed her mound to survey the landscape, trying to imagine what it must have looked like: tens of thousands of workers digging under a midday sun not dulled by pollution; artisans molding, firing, painting, dressing their earthen representations; eunuchs and the women of the court overseeing their progress from shaded places, their silken robes billowing around them.

It just seems too ridiculous a thought to be believed by anyone - that you can take it all with you. They certainly did try though. I left, amazed by their effort.

Shanghai's Famous Dumplings

I'm standing in a line of about thirty people. It moves relatively fast - about seven people to every cloud of steam that escapes the open windows. The smell this cloud releases is torturous. We're waiting for food.I've yet to write about the food of China. And - as you can imagine - food's on my mind at the moment, so now seems to be a perfect opportunity. I must begin by saying that with the exception of sweet and sour chicken no meal I've consumed in China has even remotely resembled anything we in America call "Chinese" food. It's all been much, much better.

The first meal was one of the best. Met two American girls while checking-in in Chengdu. They were in China studying Chinese and happened to be on their way to dinner. They ordered while I sat still groggy from the flight and watched cups of tea, bowls of rice, and steaming dishes issue forth from the kitchen.Pick up your rice bowl and spin the Lazy Susan to claim your selection. Greens in a tangy sauce, corn, chicken with chili and peanuts, tofu in spicy gravy, sauteed eggplant and green beans - all have passed from my rice bowl to my chopsticks to my mouth with great satisfaction. But restaurant dining is but a small portion of the Chinese school of cuisine. I prefer food served on the street.

I hold this preference for several reasons. First, restaurants for a single, non-Mandarin speaker can be rather awkward. I have "ordered" multiple times by taking a waiter around the restaurant and pointing at whosever's dish looks most appealing. A street cart eliminates this awkwardness. They only serve one or two things, and pointing is the standard ordering practice. Also, you watch them make whatever it is that you're about to eat - which is fun in and of itself - and sometimes you can get them to leave out ingredients that you're pretty sure you could do without. Favorite purchases have been: the spicy meat kabobs of Sichuan; noodles with greens in a sweet and sour soy sauce; and the fried duck egg pancake with red chili. Another bonus to street food is that I've yet to purchase anything that costs more than a dollar.

But now I'm in line to sample xiaolongboa, Shanghai's famous dumpling. Wait - I'm up. 12 yuan (7 yuan = 1 dollar) for one bamboo steamer full. Oh - they're hot. Wow, but good! They're small and stuffed with meat and you dip them - they're still slippery, so it's though with chopsticks - in a tangy brown sauce. Mmmmmmm. Alright, I'll catch you later. These dumplings need my full attention.

Pictures

Sorry they're late, but they're up - two months worth - and they're pretty good. Enjoy.

Swine Flu

I knew we were in trouble when I saw the booties. Anyone can wear a body suit, a face mask, gloves, and goggles - but when you think it necessary to cover your feet, you're taking something pretty seriously.

We'd been docked in Shanghai for over an hour. They wouldn't let us off the boat. I had my temperature taken, was asked whether I'd been in close contact with pigs recently - I had to suppress a rather strong desire to ask whether they considered digestion close contact -, and was made to sign a form stating I had not had any physical symptom of any possible illness for the past two weeks.

But Amy - poor Amy - wasn't feeling well. She'd complained of a headache and dizziness our second day aboard, but I didn't attribute it to anything but the stuffiness of our room and the fact that we were out at sea. She left in an ambulance with the man wearing the booties, a mask over her face. Poor girl.

After she left, we waited. Those quarantined by the Japanese had been all over the news. I really didn't want to spend another week on the boat, so I sat in the lobby with the other foreigners wondering what the heck was going on. Half an hour later, as if by some announcement - probably in Chinese - everyone filed off the boat.

Welcome back to China.

Osaka

They drove a van. A dark green member of the family. Toto - a miniature dotson - at the helm. Minako Mizoguchi's family, my guides to Osaka for my final days in Japan.

As a student, she had come to California to learn English. She stayed with a host family. Now - though she says a good deal of her English knowledge is gone - she's opened her home up to students. I really appreciated it.

The things we saw were pretty neat: the Umeda Sky Bridge, Osaka Castle, Shitennoji Temple, the Osaka Aquarium. The things we ate were amazing - all except the Takoyaki (octopus balls), which I did not enjoy. But what I most liked was just being part of a family again before I set off once more to sea.

A Week in Kyoto

Day 1- Setsuko walked me to the station and I was off. Bound for Kyoto, negotiation site of a protocol studied in universities the world over by environmental studies students. I was looking forward to it.

Arrived half an hour later at Kyoto Station, where the architecture student in me ran wild. It's intense, a design studio professor's dream. I spent the better part of that rainy day wandering through, over, and under it. Google image it - it's worth it.

Day 2 - On to Kyoto's historic side, with a tour of the Imperial Palace. Kyoto served as the capital of Japan beginning in the 8th century, and was the home of the Japanese imperial family from 794 to 1868 - so says my guidebook.

I can tell you that the palace is beautiful in it's minimalist perfection. The gravel is combed and the trees obsessively manicured.

Day 3 - Got my first glimpse of Japanese castle architecture at Nijo jo - castle of the first Tokugawa shogun. This guy must have had to watch his back. The floors are designed to squeak and hidden chambers concealed bodyguards prepared to defend their lord at any moment.

I then went to a temple on a hill. It was warm and the walk steep, so I sat on some shaded steps to picnic. As I was finishing, two of the people I had most wanted to see while in Kyoto began to - slowly - descend the stairs opposite me.

Geishas! Painted, kimono clad "artists". This surprise meeting wouldn't be my only on that day. Back at the hostel - over dinner - met two fellow travelers. Together we went to a show at Gion Corner. Among the acts was a Kyomai - traditional Kyoto kimono dance - performance. The English program instructed us to enjoy the elegant movements of the dancers. I did.

Day 4 - Now that I had taken the prep course, I was prepared for advanced Japanese castle architecture: Himeji. Rode the train for an hour and there it was. Oh man - the Japan of fairytales and childhood imaginings still stands on its original stone foundations in this place.

See the pictures - my words can't do it justice.

Day 5 - The day of movie sets. First off to the bamboo groves of Arashiyama. Remember the characters of "Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon" flying through forests of green? I observed from the ground licking green tea ice cream and watching the Japanese school kids give smiling peace signs to their friend's camera phones.

Next to the prayer scene from "Memoirs of a Geisha". A hill full of orange torii (gates) beheld the boisterous meeting of this American and a fro sporting 24 year old Canadian. We had a good time - we toned it done though once we were told to hush. Opps. Nursed our bruised decorums at a conveyor belt sushi place back at Kyoto Station.

Day 6 - Time for a green day. Strolled for hours in Kyoto's impressive Botanical Gardens. Favorite things were the display Bonsai trees and the massive conservatory. Those and the snake I spied by a pond too full of duck eggs to move.

Day 7 - Gold week - a week of public holidays - was upon Japan, and in celebration a Yabusame demonstration was held at the Shimogamo Shrine. Mounted archers dressed in traditional garb struck targets no more than a foot square. The crowd cheered with well-deserved admiration at every successful aim.

Nara

We met at ten o'clock in front of the Gakuenmae train station on Saturday, April 25th in Nara, Japan. Her name is Setsuko Okabe and for the next three days, she would be my host mother.

We drove - on the left - through the rain to her flat. I took pictures as she raised her neighbor's car to access her parking space - space efficiency is everything here. And along with it comes buttons and flashing lights. Even her bathroom is automated. The lid raises when you walk in, the seat warms itself when sat upon, and a panel of buttons lets you personalize your bum wash. When you flush the sink built into the toilet's back turns on. Wow.

We ate Japanese food in her dining room and out at restaurants. My favorite - though not an entirely new experience - was our trip to a conveyor belt sushi place. I'm partial to eel, though salmon is always good. I found the octopus overly chewy. We also drank tea, ceremonial style. It was alright. It must be the ceremony that has the appeal.

We went out to see the sights. Todai-ji Daibutsu-den is the world's largest wooden building. It contains a massive Buddha and a column with a hole in its base the same size as his nostril. It's said that if you can squeeze through you're ensured enlightenment. Setsuko thought I could make it. My money was on me making it half way and being stuck forever. I graciously declined - I'll take my chances on obtaining enlightenment.

We talked - or rather she talked. She's 67 and she had a lot more to say about traveling. Lands with different people, different attitudes, different things to see. She said she once met a preacher in an airport who told her she would never travel alone. God is always with you. So see - she's talking to me now - you're never alone. I nod and smile - I know.