Tian Chi

 

Mike was feeling tired, so the rest of us hired a car and went out of the city to Tian Chi (Heavenly Lake). The drive out took us past barren desert and rock, past some Kazakh Yurts, and a river until we arrived up in the mountains. From there we walked up many, many stairs, following a beatiful river, up to a waterfall, a gorgeous greenish blue lake, and up to a second larger lake with boats. We wanted to continue up to a small structure at the top, but ran out of time. We ended up walking around a narrow trail with a guide rail, around the second lake, before we started back to the bottom. It was a tiring walk, especially since we never really get a chance to fully recover before the next walk. There's too much to see and too little time. It was amazing to be up in such a beautiful place. We spent time on the way up resting at spots and just taking it in. The waterfall, the lakes and river were all very soothing, and peaceful.

From there we returned to the hotel, got Mike and met up with a Pakistani man named Tasawar, whom we met on the bus the day before. He met us at a restaurant near the hotel. Mike stayed back to rest and we went to the Uigar market again, for some more ice cream. We checked out some musical instruments, talked at length to Tasawar who spoke Uighar also. After that we checked out a large department store much like one you would find in the US. It was fun trying to explain that Andy wanted to buy a towel. After being led to many other things, we finally found one. I met a super cool robot on the way out.

We thanked Tasawar for his hospitality then grabbed the bus back to the hotel for some sleep.

Urumqi

The next morning, still enroute to Urumqi, I awoke to sleepy eyed children stumbling out of bed, tiny toes all over. I joined the herd, borrowed some toothpaste and cleaned up a bit. My pal Li Zhou, hooked me up with some green tea that he had generously purchased for me and we listened to some music on our headphones, hoping to make it through the day as the little savages woke up.

Lots of terrifying giggling followed. Omar and I escaped for a while to the next car, but the evil little cats found us, popping their little heads in one by one, creeping up behind me and delivering painful blows to my back. I held back my tears, trying desperately not to cry in front of everyone as they set their sites on a new prey. We were sitting in the aisle, outside the compartment of one of the blue shirted train staff. He made the mistake of leaving his door open while reading a newspaper. The cats were jumped through the doorway, looking under his bed, on top of it and all around, asking tons of questions and settling in next to him. He was clearly in shock. Fearing for his life, he played it cool, then bravely tried to shoo them away without any luck. They giggled and ran around his compartment before leaving when they felt like it and slamming his door shut behind.

They joined Omar and myself in the hall for a bit, and I had to subdue them with some tickling, before they ran off again. Finally we reached the train station at Urumqi. We said our goodbyes and I exchanged info with a college professor and Li Zhou, the high schooler. One of the friendly kids offered to help me pull my heavy backpack down. We went out the platform and the herd lined up for a headcount. Omar, Andy, Mike and I waved good bye and head out. It was raining a bit as we walked down into a Muslim noodle shop. The locals stopped and watched us. Two kids with aviation suited ears stood newspaper hawking forgotten and watched us. They unfroze when I pulled out my camera. We ate some food, then grabbed a bus to another part of town to look for a place to stay. Prices varied a lot so we kept looking until we found a cheaper place. The room was being cleaned so we left our backpacks with them and head out to see the city. We walked around a bit, then hopped on a bus to the Xinjiang Autonomus Region Museum. The museum had amazing exhibits on the wide range of diverse people living in the Xinjiang province. From European/Russian looking Tartars, to Mongols, Han Chinese, Uzbeks, Uighurs and many more. Exhibits showed beautiful handicrafts, clothes, musical instruments and other cultural effects from each of group of people. Other sections of the museum showed excavated remains from ancient civilizations, including mummies. All in all, it was a beautiful museum though it underscored the reality of the province.

From there we head over to the Erdaoqiao Market, which is surrounded by Uighur neighborhoods. On the bus, we befriended some Uigher students who showed us the way as well as a Pakistani businessman working in the area. We went with the students, down to the marketplace. We had heard some nasty racist things said about the Uighur people that really made us mad, before we got there. Various negative attributes were prescribed to this entire group of people by some other people at the museum. I actually met some Uigher students while sitting in the lobby of the museum as well and they were, as most people tend to be, very warm and gracious. The students we met on the bus, were likewise very warm and friendly to us. Certainly you have to take precautions whenever you are in a new place and with new people, but that goes equal for all people, and you don't want to become so paranoid that you fail to see the beauty that exists in the wonderful people you meet along the way.

We looked at music instruments and I saw that a few things I negotiated down in Xian had starting prices of half of what I haggled down to. It was a fun marketplace, with so many diverse people, as we had seen in the exhibits in the museum. This area had a very different feel with signs in Chinese, English, Uighur and some Russian. Four scripts and a multitude of ethnicities, styles of dress etc poured in from all around. There were some mosques, and a beautiful square.

We looked around for some fresh nan, but all we could find were stacks of cold, hard bread at all the shops we went to. Finally, we walked over to an area that was full of outdoor eateries and asked around. Many people did not speak Chinese here, so we had to try and use Arabic and Farsi words with some English and lots of hand gestures and funny faces to try and communicate. People were very friendly. We ate some amazing watermelon and I picked up some traditional music cds. Mike ate some spicy noodles and chickpeas, with flavors quite unique from what we had sampled in other parts of China thus far. At the noodle stand, we finally managed to explain that we were looking for fresh nan, straight out of the tandoor (clay oven). He talk to another kid who had his own stall. Finally the kid at the other stall decided he was going to take us. He walked us all around, weaving through crowds, as we struggled to keep up, until we had walked across a good cross section of the amazing Uighur neighborhood and arrived at a nan shop. They had closed and the boys working there smiled as our nan hunter friend explained what we were after. After much talking, they agreed to bake a batch of smaller sesame buns. Omar tried really hard to get them to make a few nans, but they weren't having it. It was a tremendous amount of effort to start the tandoor, and prepare it for baking bread. Three boys, in a rythmic patterm dunked their head and arms into the firey tandoor, placing the dough balls on the inner walls. They joined us outside after getting the whole laborious process started. A crowd of people formed around us as we spoke to the boys inside and outside the shop. We greeted them with a Salam (Muslim greeting) and that helped to endear us to them instantly, but perhaps more than that just our silliness made them happy. Omar and Andy decided to learn how to count in Uighur. None of these kids or adults spoke Chinese. They looked at us very confused as we explained 1-2-3-4-5, counting on fingers and they laughed and repeated, until finally some people in the crowd figured out what we were after and they taught us.

It made everyone really happy, as we waited for the buns to cook. Omar pulled out a page of Uighur phrases from his book and tried them out, much to everyone's delight. People laughed, but the crowd was actually very friendly. They warmed up to us kids, and lots of little ones crowded around and watched. We kept watch of our things as you need to in any crowd..though I still lost my camera that one time in Mongolia...but people were genuinely curious. The boy who brought us about a mile to the nan shop refused any food or anything in return. He simply helped us and then sped off on his way back to work. The kids at the tandoor didn't try to make any extra money off of us, or be mean or anything but the nicest hosts one could ask for. The humored our silliness and we all spoke to pockets of the crowd in our broken words and smiles.

Eventually the bread was ready and we had 5. One of the boys at the tandoor offered to take a photo of the inside of the tandoor for me and I gave him my camera to do just that. The people were so friendly do us and asked for nothing in return. We offered some entertainment, but that was really all they wanted. One man even offered to let us stay with him, though we graciously declined. One new mother, with her seven month old baby in hand spoke Chinese and communicated with Mike. Andy shared music on his laptop, and had a huge crowd of kids around him and a generously lent hat from one of the children. These were not people who had much in the way of monetary riches, but they were some of the warmest, sweetest people we could ever hope to meet. I think often if you put out a good feeling regardless of whether you feel you are getting it back or not, it brings out that in those around you. It doesn't work every single time, in every situation, but it is the only way I know to make being amidst strangers so enjoyable.

We made our way to the bus station, exhausted, with the help of the Chinese speaking mother with her cute baby in her arms, and the kind man who had offered us his hospitality. We said goodbye and hopped on the bus. Finding the tiny hotel at night proved challenging. We all had some idea, but it took us a long time to trace our steps back and find the landmarks we needed to get there. Eventually we did, only to be told that we had been given the room in error.

Foreigners were not allowed to stay in that hotel, and so we would have to find some other arrangements. They refunded our money and graciously called around to try and find another place. We went off in search of places, carrying our heavy backpacks, but their suggestions were outragiously expensive. Apparently it is common to run into the situation where lower cost and lower quality hotels are not allowed to house foreigners, likely more out of maintaining an image than anything.

So we pulled out the lonley planet guide, called a place near the train station and found rooms at low prices that allowed foreigners. The place is the least nice place we have stayed at. The bathrooms have friendly short doors so you can talk to your neighbors while handling your business, but the halls are dark and instead of keys, you get tags that you show the floor attendant who unlocks your door. Still, thanks as usual to Mike's hard work and Chinese language skills, we got out of an annoying situation and found a decent place to sleep at night.

Train Ride

The next morning, we caught an early morning buffet before running off to the train station. There were older people playing badminton with children along the way.Each town we have visited has its own feel to it. Lanzhou felt laid back and more comfortable than some of the other cities we visited on this trip.

We boarded the train with no idea what was in store. Early on, we noticed that there seemed to be lots of children in this train car. In fact there were probably 6 children to every adult on it.Securing train tickets last minute is difficult and necessary in many of the places we are travelling. These tickets ended up being in the same car, but in seperate bunks. I traded my seat with a lady so she could be with her daughter, and ended up with an older couple below me and children all around. I was in the middle bunk on the left out of 3 bunks on either side bringing the total to 6 instead of the usual 4 that were on previous trains.

I stared out the window, sitting in the narrow train aisle for a while, watching the mountains push off into the distance and turn to flat planes. After a while, I climbed up to my middle bunk. Just as my head touched the pillow a stream of children came racing into the compartment. Some had tried to speak to me earlier, but I smiled and explained that I didn't understand Chinese. Now all these kids were back, led by their solution; a little bespectacled girl with braces. She said hello as ten or twenty faces giggled. She asked if she could get a picture with me. I smiled and agreed. I climbed down and sat on the lower bunk with an older lady already sitting there and the little girl's aunt squeezed in with children in the aisle. The little girl grabbed my arm and posed with a huge smile much to the glee of the army of children. A few cameras were passed around for photos including mine. She said my smell was nice, but I think she meant smile...long train rides don't do much good for smells.

I laughed so hard while the kids were taking photos. I pointed to "I don't understand" in the Chinese phrasebook to the girl's aunt. The kids were all excited (I think in general), and the little heartbreaked said "I love you." Hahahaha! Limited english is so cute.I figured there could be no more cuteness to top that, so I went to back to bed and managed to stay there for a good 8 hours or so.

I was wrong. I awoke and the kids had mobbed my friends. There was an intense game of cards at one aisle table with Andy and Mike, a happy kid we named Sgt. Bellpepper and many other smiling faces with random missing teeth. There was music playing through the train speakers and Omar was teaching kids math and learning Chinese. The aisle was packed with nervous kid energy. It was too much cuteness for so small a space. My English speaking pal it turns out loved everyone else too, and though I was a little devastated, I managed to pull myself together and sit at on of the aisle tables. The party train slipped past flat, dry land with mountains in the distance. Every so often, a vendor squeezed down the packed aisle hawking drinks, books and food, as tiny tots squirmed past through spaces that did not exist. The staff on the train was actually smiling (except the dining car, they were not in service as usual).

I stared out the window a bit, then pulled out my phrase book and spoke to a high school boy named Li Zhou.

He was very quiet, but helped me with some pronounciation. Through him and Mike I learned that the kids were returning from a field trip to Beijing back to Urumqi, where they lived. Li zhou liked Chinese rock music, had a twin brother and sister, and gave us the name of an ice cream parlor in Urumqi. The kids were very sweet and bursting with energy, excitement and kindness.I heard Andy and Omar start some music down the aisle and joined them. We soon had kids giggling and clapping around us. Two tiny, shy, cat like girls kept running up and then running away. They were trouble. Andy pulled out a Chinese wind instrument and we sang with that for a while. At one point, a boy with broken glasses jumped in and shared his talents on Andy's Chinese instrument. He was very good and had a few little girls chasing after him after his performance. It was so much fun singing and playing with these kids.

The train stopped at a number of stations along the way, where we bought instant noodles, tofu and one time ice cream which we shared with Li Zhou. After the music, the little cats became bold and approached me with evil little smiles. They struck terror in my heart with swiping claws and evil giggles. To hide my fear, I started drawing one of them. That made them curious. Four tiny eyes watched me. Finally, I added a super cool handlebar mustache (always a crowd pleaser) and some chin hair, but the little cats didn't approve. This is always a challenge when travelling. It is easy to offend one from another culture, unintentionally, through no fault of your own, with only the best of intentions through what seems to oneself to be a good gesture of friendship.

They made little frowns and threatened me with some harshly shouted Chinese. Petrified, I handed them the pen and notebook, begging for mercy (sure, I towered over them even sitting down, but these things were ferocious!).

They scurried down the hall, then returned after a bit having added some flying hair and funny teeth to the drawing. I guess once the rage subsided, they decided to draw some pretty birds, fish and a sun on the following page, before the madness took hold again and they came charging back at me, told me what was what and handed me their evil creations.

Andy came to my rescue by becoming the human chomping machine, with long arms as chompers. He sent them running back down the hall, only to return, then flee many times after.Just to note, Sgt. Bellpepper, (the gentlemen in the green wahaha shirt) is a fascinating card player. He is a thing of wonder to behold when he plays cards, climbs bunks or squirms away from little girls who try to make him sing. Eventually the savage little beasts turned to slumber and so did we.

Lanzhou

 

The next morning we caught a train to Lanzhou. We arrived in the afternoon. Just behind the train station, you can see beautiful mountains. We grabbed our things and trudged across the street to find a place to stay the night. After some searching and bargaining, we ran into a man who ran a hotel down the street. He showed us the place and we took it.

After cleaning up we walked around to explore the city. We ended up grabbing a bus to the Yellow River. The sun was setting and it was an amazing sight.

 

Along the boardwalk, there were many families with children. Many were learning to rollerblade, or just playing.

A little further, there was some Chinese music playing with a group of mostly older women and some men being led through a synchronized dance by a very enthusiastic, talented, dancing man. We sat and watched for a while. It was so peaceful there, watching people relax along the Yangtze. Omar and Andy joined the dancing for a bit.

Later, we grabbed some chocolate cake, having failed to find an ice cream parlor. Having gotten our chocolate fix, we went back to the hostel to sleep

Terracotta Warriors

 

  

The guys woke up around noon, giving me plenty of time to update the blog etc. It rained all day. We head out to the bus station and caught a bus to see the museum of the terracotta warriors just outside the city of Xian. Early in the trip we suffered a setback when Andy forgot his oreos on the bus. Inspired by the Terracotta Warriors and their participation in the 2008 Beijing Olympics the group managed to put it behind us and continue. We started with the museum and worked our way up from Pit 2, to Pit 3 and finally the massive Pit 1. Each one made us more excited to see the next. It is a fairly mad creation, but the scale of it is quite amazing. I liked the horses with their riders and chariots most. The museum itself is really nice, though the hawkers try a bit too hard. On the way out you pass a ton of stalls selling all kinds of souvenirs and just when you think you have passed through them, there is a huge barrage of hawkers standing with handfuls of trinkets that you have to navigate to get to the buses. Afterward we head back to Xian.

Mike and Omar decided to stay in, while Andy and I head to the South Gate of the walled city where we were told there were some music performances. The rain probably prevented any street music that night, so we met up with a bead maker whom Omar and Andy had met the night before. We walked down a lane of empty western looking bars before we came upon a more traditional looking establishment. We went upstairs to a room with a stage and enjoyed various traditional music performances, along with some food. I had some mushrooms with peppers and rice. The bead maker had engraved two flutes with Andy and Omar's names as a gift for them.

We spent some time trying to play them. He showed us how, though Andy had better luck. I managed a sketch of a man who was like a one man band with a leg playing percussion, and a long string instrument with snake skin on it as well as other small instruments on each limb. He seemed to tell an interesting and humorous story, but your guess is as good as mine. We jumped in a cab and head back after the show ended, thanking our host graciously. I spent a few hours that night updating emails and photos. The hostel owner; Bob was interested in some of my animation work so I shared that and he shared some beautiful photography of his own from trips to Southern China.

Xian

We arrived in Xian in the morning, then walked a long way from the long distance bus station to the hostel with our heavy backpacks. After cleaning up, we entered the city walls and made out way past lanes on the outskirts with old buildings marked for demolition, to new shopping centers by the belltower until we reached a lane that led into the Muslim Quarter. Apparently there have been Muslims there since the 6th century when Arab traders travelled the silk road, bringing their religion. A number of them settled down there and thus began the Islamic influence in Xian. The lanes had tiny mosques, many general stores, restaurants, food stalls and places to buy souvenirs. We stopped at a very Chinese style minaret complete with a loudspeaker for the Muslim call to prayers.

As I was photographing the minaret, my friends ducked into some place and I lost track of them. I looked around, walked up and down the street and no luck. We all know how to get back to the hostel and that is always a good fallback plan for if and when we get seperated, so after a bit of searching, I just continued down the street, and looked at shops. There were little terracotta warriors, paintings, sculptures and all kinds of other souvenirs. I picked up a few things bargaining to less than half the stated price, wondering how bad I'd still been had. As I came upon older Chinese women with hijabs I found that they were very happy to learn that I am Muslim. I saw interesting mixes of Chinese and Arabic calligraphy. Eventually I made my way the the Great Mosque, where as a Muslim I got in for free. Nice to get that special treatment in a positive sense now and again :). The Great Mosque is a large, very Chinese style structure. It is interesting to communicate with some Arabic with the local Muslims. A few words that we use when referring to religious functions that are in Arabic were easy to communicate.I walked all the way through, and offered some prayers. Most of the mosque us a long courtyard with little alcoves and towers.

As I was about to leave, I as reunited with my friends. We hung around a while longer, then asked around about good food places. A boy named Abdul Rahman offered to show us the way to a good place to eat. We invited him to join us and made our way to a shop down several lanes for some bread bits in soup with beef. Abdul Rahman told us about his studies and the general history of the local Muslim community, all through Mike's translation skills. This area has more breads similar to naans than other parts of China we have seen thus far. Andy was in pretty bad shape from being sick, so he just drank some tea. He decided to stay with Omar at the mosque for a while, as Mike and I walked back through the city. 

We walked passed all kinds of shopping plazas, and drank some plum juice on the way back. Later on, after several wrong turns, we made our way back to the hostel, having explored a chunk of the city.

Leaving Beijing for Xian

Some days you just work on resting and getting ready for that next overnight bus. We took it pretty easy in the morning and then trudged around with our heavy backpacks to metro to bus to finally overnight bus from Beijing to Xian. It was a pretty comfortable sleeper bus, as far as they go..best we have been on yet. I was expecting worse, bracing myself for it, and was very relieved. We stopped at a food place around 11pm and grabbed some tofu and peppers that were really good. The buffet looked somewhat ancient and the staff told us they had no plans to making more, so we opted for fresh food as always. They were very nice and as usual very confused and happy at Mike's Mandarin skills. As always, he helped us get some much needed food, before we piled back on the bus and continued along the road to Xian. There were some Chinese music videos, much like ones in other countries playing on the bus and some bizarre movie with recognizable European and American actors about these two people from medieval times who come to the present and wackiness ensues. It looked fairly recent. Mostly I tried to sleep.

Great Wall of China

 

Andy and Mike were busy with their individual plans. Andy had an interview to conduct. Omar and I had plans to go see the Great Wall of China. We are starting to get the hang of getting around. It helps that I have a lonely planet guide that has the names of places which I can point to written in Mandarin. Besides that, it tells you which bus to get on etc. The public transportation in this town is great!

We grabbed some food, and I finally gave up on being vegetarian here, having starved, and stopped eating many vegetable meals halfway through realizing they had pork in them, or eating horrible, nutritionless garbage for too long. I already lost five pounds, so enough of that. The next areas we are going to in China as well as the next few countries will all be brutally tough to find vegetarian food in, so no more.

I started with a fish fillet sandwich at the McDonalds...

So...anyway, after that Omar and I head over to the metro, on to the long distance bus station and off to the first town on the way to the section of the Great Wall that we decided to visit. We stopped in the town and then hired a car to take us to the wall. It started pouring as we approached, but this was our one chance to see it. It actually worked out beautifully. We got there and it was pouring. After purchasing tickets we went to get on the cable car, but it was not running due to the rain. We didn't know how long it might be and we only had a few hours to check things out before it would close. So we decided to grab some junky umbrellas and walk up the stairs with our tired bodies. One step at a time we made it up to the top. The shops below as well as the drink sellers on the way to and on the wall tend to quote very high prices. ALl you have to do is tell then how much you want to pay and then walk away if they refuse. They would say something ridiculous like 15RMB for water, and I'd tell them I'd give them 3 and start walking away when they said no. There was hardly any customers there, so I got my water at the normal price each time. Omar and I made it up to the top and it was gorgeous. I thought the Forbidden City would interest me more than the Great Wall, but it turned out to be the opposite. The Forbidden City was very repetitive, whereas just driving up into the mountains then up the stairs to the Great Wall was an amazing site. It stopped raining as we reached the top of the Wall. The view all around was stunning. The wall wrapped over hills far into the distance as far as you could see. Layers of fog revealed mountains in the distance. The sun started to creep out from behind the clouds as we walked over many more steep steps, over the wall and made our way to the tram going down. We hopped on after a while, grabbed some quick souvenirs after bargaining the price way down (not down enough apparently) the same car that brought us there and hopped on the bus back the Beijing.

As we reached Beijing, satisfied that we had maneuvered our way around without Mike's invaluable skills and knowledge we hit rush hour. People were pouring out of buses and the crowds were quite amazing in their size. It still wasn't that bad getting to the metro and packing ourselves in to get back to our hostel, but it was interesting to see so many people. We walked back to the hostel, sat for a bit, then explored the many shops that lined the way to the music cafe we had been to the previous night. There was a Mongolian music performance there that night, so we decided to walk around there until then. Omar started playing different percussion instruments to the delight of a music store owner and his customers. I took some photos then head out to find an internet cafe to send out a birthday message.

I checked out the toy stores while Omar jammed and gave someone a tabla lesson. We ended up grabbing some seafood at a restaurant, before I went to the internet cafe and Omar went to see the show. I finished up at the cafe and went to the show also. The place was packed and I caught the last four amazing songs of the performance. I managed a sketch in the crowd, but I didn't see Omar or Andy. I bought the group's cd and returned to the hostel, where I met up with Mike and went to sleep.

Forbidden City

The next morning we got up to a slow start. Mike and Andy were busy with other plans, so Omar and I set out on our own. We grabbed some food (fries, milkshake and ice cream for me) after the usual hunt for stuff we could eat. Then we went down to the metro and head over to Tianmen Square. As we walked through, a lady came up to us and asked us if we'd like to see an art gallery. We said sure, and walked to the gallery, which was one of the stores inside the path to the Forbidden City. She was very nice, and explained some of the cultural context of the paintings. She said she was a volunteer. We looked at the gallery, appreciating the information she told us about the pieces. Finally we had walked through the gallery and she asked us which piece we wanted. I thanked her and told her I could not really carry any of these pieces with me. 

At that point she transformed. She was not happy. Omar and I spotted a South Asian couple (first I had seen in China) so as she had her little internal meltdown, I introduced myself to them and we traded notes on Indian grocery stores and restaurant info. In the middle of this, psycho art lady starts staring me down and pointing at the door. Omar and I glanced at her and I was annoyed so I told her to wait. I took my time talking to the South Asian man before I walked out.

 

Even the sales people at the stalls in the middle section were extremely pushy and annoying in selling their over priced garbage. Thankfully, once we entered the Forbidden City, there was none of that. We purchased our tickets and walked through many large open areas, taking in various museum exhibits along the way before reaching the living quarters in the back. By then it was time to close, so we started making our way back. It was cool to check out, but much of the architecture is more of the same. The large open spaces must have been very impressive when filled with armies long ago. As we walked past the gallery, some other guy asked if we wanted to see the art gallery and I let him know we had already been tthrown out.

Afterwards, we walked around some of the streets around that area, before walking around the Performing Arts Center and then taking the metro back to the hostel. We met up with Andy and the hostel and a fellow traveller who was visiting from Zimbabwe. Mike returned, but was too tired to go out with us, so the rest of us walked down the street towards a music show Andy and learned about along the way. The street we walked down was an interesting mix of young hip clothes and toys like you'd find at Giant Robot etc with interesting and pricey cafes as well as small general stores, and little hole in the wall eateries with old and young people hanging out. It was a really interesting place. We walked past all of that and turned down narrow lane past a large traditional style building. It was dark so all you could make out was a huge looming silhouette. The lane opened into a small park, with buildings that looked like temples on either side. People were hanging out in the park. We walked into a cafe where a band was setting up for a performance that night. It felt like a really nice, intimate music venue in Los Angeles. We grabbed a table toward the front and waited for the performance to begin. It was a lot of fun.

The musicians were mostly from in and around Xian as was the style of music. They played from 10pm to 12am and I managed some sketches of each of them which I gave to them later in the night. During the break Omar and Andy got to talking to the percussionist who was visiting from western China. We didn't have a common language, but another girl from Xian helped translate. The percussionist and the a group of girls in the audience who knew him were all Muslims from the areas we are traveling to next. We went back in, enjoyed the rest of the show, then hung out. Andy talked to the girls in the audience and got some info on the places are traveling to next. One was studying to become a tour guide so she may help us once we get to Xian. We may meet up with the percussionist in his town as well. Omar and the percussionist jammed together, trading rhythms from their respective countries. They could not speak to each other through words very well, but that didn't seem to matter when it came to music. It was a lot of fun to see them interact that way, and they both left having really pushed themselves playing. We all walked out around closing time, and head back to the hostel to bed.

It's 4am in Beijing...

We reached Beijing at 4am, without having gotten any sleep the night before. It was still dark out as we walked over in a daze to a McDonalds (the only place to eat at that hour). We all washed up a bit and sat there quite out of it for a while. We had to wait until 6am for the metro to start running so we could rush over to the embassy district and hunt down the Uzbekistan Embassy to get visas for our planned travel there later in the trip. We weren't sure where it was because they did not answer their phones and several addresses were listed online. It was only open from 9am-11am and we needed to get the process started quick during the week, so we would not have to stay too long in Beijing and have to cut out days from the rest of our trip. So, with that in mind, we hopped on the metro with our heavy backpacks and trudged all over, after getting bad directions from all sorts of people. Finally we came upon the German Embassy and from there the Uzbekistan embassy, having walked all over, up and down all kinds of stairs etc with our heavy backpacks for a couple of hours. We got to the embassy early and put our things in a pile on the sidewalk. I slept on my backpack for a bit as we waited. Finally the opened and we spent some time on filling out the applications and getting it all taken care of. Thanks again to Mike and Andy's preparedness, we got it all done on the spot. Afterward we went back to the same hostel we had stayed at last time we were in Beijing just before going to Mongolia. This time we didn't have a reservation, but after being hassled a bit by the kid at the desk, we got a 3 bed room and Andy got a bed in a different room. We washed up and hung out in the cafe for a while. I updated some blog stuff and just relaxed. I figured I would just sleep at night. Sunny and the rest of the kind staff at the hostel cafe asked if we would perform there again like we did last time. She was very sweet in expressing how much they all enjoyed the music we played last time. It was a pretty spontaneous performance, but it had been lot of fun. We agreed to come back after dinner and play. In the evening, Andy, Omar and I walked around a bit. We found a really good restaurant and ate a bunch of food. The kids working there were all young college students who were extremely friendly and happy to talk to us. Two kids in particular were really nice to us, so we invited them to the hostel cafe to check out our music performance there later that night. We got back and Andy and Omar grabbed the guitar and bongos which we took upstairs to quickly figure out a few more songs. We really had not had no to prepare, and the guitar turned out to have one really messed up string that Andy frantically tried to clean up and make usable. Omar and I head down as it was time to start, and Andy was still working on the guitar upstairs. I sat down with my laptop and the cafe was packed with people, as a note had gone up on the board that a World Music performance was to take place that night, or maybe they all just happened to be there. I don't know.

Andy finally made it down having miraculously made the guitar barely useable and we started playing. The crowd this time was less attentive. Last time we were just playing around and soon everyone just turned and started watching us. This time it was much louder and we had no mics just like last time, so we really were not loud enough for that setting. But there were groups sprinkled in the crowd cheering and clapping. More important than that though, what really made the night for us was that, for one, the cafe staff were really happy, and the two kids from the restaurant were there from the very start of the performance. After a few songs, they asked me to sing a favorite song of theres, so I pulled up the lyrics and we all sang it together. It was so much more fun to include them and sing together rather than just perform to them. They suggested another song that they taught us and we sang that together too. That was the best part of the night. It's what really made it worthwhile, was to interact and give thanks to these two kids that went out of their way to be nice to us at the restaurant. We sat around and talked to people, including the two kids late into the night. They wanted to know about our travels and told us about the beautiful parts of China they were from. Finally we all exchanged emails and called it a night.

Border Crossing

Woke up in the train. The door out of our compartment was stuck. I remember half asleep watching Omar struggle with it a bit before giving up and going back to bed. I tried with similar results. I looked through the slit in the side of the door and saw some Mongolian men hanging out in the hall, looking out the window. I knocked on the door and pulled at the lock a bit and they kindly came over and yanked it open after a brief struggle. I thanked them, my eyes barely opening and we both nodded in agreement at the crappy lock we agreed not to lock again. I walked across about 8 cars to find an open bathroom to wash up. I came back and rested. We all spent time in the hall, watching the barren landscape roll past, talking to other passengers like Jaigal. I played some chess on a Mongolian chess set with Omar before we got the word that we would arrive in Zamanud momentarily. We quickly grabbed all our stuff and rushed to the nearest exit where there was already a line of people. As soon as the doors of the train car opened we made a mad dash out, across towards the buses. A guy with a jeep offered to take us across the border (this is normal practice) for 80 RMB (Yen) so we hopped in and he stepped on it. Basically, we needed to get through customs on either side of the border and try and make it to the train station on the Chinese side in time to get a train ticket back to Beijing. We had lots of competition for this goal, so there was a rush. We went to the Mongolian exit authority, jumped out the jeep with our things, ran through processing, back on the jeep and through a number of similar forms and lines, in and out of the jeep until we reached the train station on the Chinese side of the border in a town called Erling. We jumped through some hoops to change our Mongolian money (which is really hard, if not impossible to convert anywhere else). At the station it turned out there were no more trains out to Beijing until the next day, so we went over to the long distance bus station. Thanks as usual to Mike's language skills, we were able to purchase overnight sleeper bus tickets to Beijing. We grabbed some food, then hopped on a bus full of beds that was a lot nicer than the one we took with Kim Jong's brother from Anqing to Beijing. We had saved a lot of headache coming back by not having to wait for the insanely slow process of changing train wheels at the border, and not having to deal with the horrible staff on the train, but we were in for a new fun adventure on this bus. Every time we crossed from one province to another, as well as several other checkpoints and stops, the bus was boarded, IDs were checked, everyone given a once over and then we'd start moving again. This happened all night, so just as you'd fall asleep, the bus would stop and the conducter and some security people boarding the bus would have a flashlight, all the bus lights would come on and people would start demanding your ID. After they were done checking the IDs (often off the bus), the conductor would spend another 20 minutes yelling out people's names to return their IDs. So, we didn't get much sleep, much as we tried. We talked to a Mongolian man who was a fashion designer, working in western style leather clothes in Beijing. Many people on that bus went through this process on a regular basis, as they were Mongolians traveling from Ulanbataar to Beijing on regular business. As annoying as not being able to sleep was, the ride was much less painful than the train going from Ulanbataar from Beijing, thanks to the absence of "Pork Rind Face" and the rest of the wonderful train staff.

Leaving Mongolia

Woke up in the ger, used the outhouse across the dirt road (much nicer than all the public bathrooms), then relaxed and watched the sky. The guys woke up and we had some breakfast. Sola returned to get us. We saw a group of 60 and over Korean women tourists doing some cute little marching exercises, having a great time with big smiles on their faces. We sang all kinds of silly songs in strange voices on the ride back, to amuse ourselves and every now and then Sola too. At the hostel Sola said she was very happy and we all felt a good about the short time we spent together and a little sad to be parting. We got back with Mike who was still sick, as was Andy. We checked out, put the heavy bags in the hostel storage, then got a ride to the State Department Store with the hostel owner (he had some bank business to do near there, regarding the travelers check Andy gave him). At the State Department Store we met up with a Mongolian friend of Andy's who had just returned from Washington after a a few years of not seeing Mongolia. She was really surprised at the rapid expansion of buildings and cars in Ulanbataar.

Omar and I were a little messed up from not eating properly the past few days, so Mike kindly suggested that we go to the one vegetarian restaurant that we had been to a few days ago. It meant Omar and I could eat a much needed, proper meal. I ate two. After, we head back to the State Department Store to look at last minute souvenirs. I picked up a bunch of Mongolian artwork, showing examples of a some different styles I really liked. Andy's friend left to go spend time with her parents, and we met up with Hulga (a talented Mongolian musician we met at the Black Market, who told us about the Naadam Cultural Festival). We sat down in a cafe and talked for a while. He had invited us to a traditional music show the previous night, but three of us were already leaving for the gers. Mike had enjoyed the concert with him the night before. It was good to hear his perspectives on Mongolia and music. He gave us a taste of some demoes he was working on. I hope to hear the finished songs when they are ready. We sat for a couple of hours before he kindly dropped us off at the hostel. We grabbed our bags and the hostel owner offered to drop us off at the train station. I have to say, I really appreciated how nice both these people were to us. They really went out of their way to help us and make us feel welcome, as did several other people on the trip. He even helped Andy get his train ticket, and Hulga came back to give us Andy's camera which he had left in Hulga's car. We thanked them both and walked to the platform ready to board.

After a while, we boarded, and met some new people. Andy wasn't sure if he'd leave with us or later when we bought tickets, so his ticket ended up being in a different car. We had a Mongolian man named Sik with us, and made friends with a guy named Jaigal (or Jack) who accidently sat in our compartment with us for a while before realizing he was in the wrong one. He spoke some english and turned out to be a huge death metal and hard rock fan. He was 38 years old but had the crazed energy of a 16 year old. It was a lot of fun talking to him because he was so excited and kept laughing and explaining Mongolian history, culture and relations with interesting animated hand gestures and phrases. It was hilarious and made the trip so much more fun. He went to his compartment, but hung out with us a lot. Sik was quieter, but polite and smiled. Andy joined us and shared his Khumi (traditional Mongolian throat singing) skills to the delight of all, including an older woman from next door who watched from the hall with a big smile on her face. The six of us sat around talking, laughing etc. They shared some Areg with Andy and Mike and chatted for a long time. It was funny talking about all these bands with Jaigal. I had a headache again and didn't feel too great, so I climbed up and slept on the bunk above. A little later, Andy and Sik swapped compartments, so Andy could stay with us and we all went to sleep in our respective compartments.

Tsuralg, Mongolia

The next morning, I spoke to an American girl at the hostel in Ulanbataar named Micky. She had been in Mongolia for a while and was now working for the art council.

Andy, Omar and I decided to take a trip through the hostel. The thing with Mongolia is that visiting there is really about going to the other areas and exploring the countryside. We didn't have time on this trip so we focused on Naadam in Ulanbataar, getting the sick well in our group and not getting rest sick. We did want to explore the rest and hope to do so sometime in the future, but for this round we hired the hostel owner's sister in law to drive us out to a beautiful if tourist centric scenic area called Tsuralg. She didn't speak English, so we played her Mongolian music tapes, with genuine interest in exploring local music. We left the city, passing increasingly sparse populations, until it was all open land with gers in the distance.

We drove up a dirt road by some rock formation until we stopped at a cave. Sola (our guide and driver) let us out at the side of the road and the three of us, Andy, Omar and I (Mike stayed home sick at the hostel) climbed up into a cave with some Mongolians. We talked for a bit to the group in the cave then climbed out and continued by car to a huge turtle shaped rock formation.

  

We bought some ice cream and brought back some for Sola, which was reciprocated by her with some choco pies. Up until this point she really did not speak to us, but from here on out she started to enjoy herself and open up more. It's no fun to take someone on a trip and make them feel like they are just there to facilitate you. It's so much better to try and make it fun for everyone involved. We checked out some art shops and the stall of an artist named Chimid. Omar and Andy bought some nice sketches by Chimid of the surrounding landscape and Mongolian ger life. Chimid was very warm and appreciative. By this point Sola had joined us, rather than staying by the car or off somewhere.

We drove further to a spot where Sola pointed out rocks on the top of a mountain that seemed to depict a person reading a book. Thankfully we drove past a fancy hotel with a golf putting range and stopped at a ger camp. Local families rent out extra gers for tourists from inside and outside Mongolia. While that is not the same as getting to know a family and spending time with them in a non tourist area, it seemed a good first taste to suit our limited time in Mongolia. The family rented a ger out to us and brought in some tea and food. We ate, rested, I did a quick watercolor sketch and then a fifteen year old boy came with some horses for us to ride. Sola took one horse,

Andy, Omar and I each got on our own horses. Sola and the boy led Omar and my horse respectively on the way, but Andy managed to handle his. They were very tame horses, if a bit stubborn at times. We went down across a river, then into the woods, slowly making our way over varying terrain. The boy didn't speak much as he led us to his home, where his father and younger brother sat with their cattle. Sola milked a few cows until she had filled a bucket with frothy milk. I wanted to try, but I don't think she understood. She really enjoyed it. Next we sat down in our riding guide's ger with his father and younger brother and were treated to some milk tea and yogurt with biscuits. We asked the family if they knew any songs. Andy and Omar used some Korean which Sola could understand having spent time in Korea to communicate and Omar had also picked up some good Mongolian phrases. We asked if the family knew any songs. They said no, so we just started singing some for them. They smiled and clapped along. After a few, Sola and the shy children started to sing. Sola sang some really beautiful Mongolian songs and the boys giggled shyly and added a word here and there. Finally it was time to return to the ger we were staying in, so we rode back. This time I rode the (very tame) horse by myself, with some prodding from the boy when it would go too slow. On the ride back, we all sang songs. The boy opened up and we even had him and Sola singing parts of Junoon's "Saeen." It was great to see everyone opening up and connecting like that. There's a really sweet feeling in sharing that music together. We heard a number of beautiful Mongolian songs too. Seriously though, we need to work on some new songs.

Back at the ger, we ate some dinner and then sat outside with some Mongolian men waiting for their own food. They were pretty friendly and Andy shared his Khumi (traditional Mongolian throat singing) which they really appreciated. Omar joined in, using a bottle for percussion and I joined in with some singing also. Some people formed around us and it was fun to get people clapping and singing a few verses in languages they did not know as we tried to bridge the gap between their language which we did not know and our own. We asked them to sing, but no one did. I had heard that Mongolians love singing songs together, but no luck. Finally it was time for them to eat, so they all went in their gers and we went to ours to get some sleep. It turned out, the party was just starting for everyone else and we heard lots of singing and talking early into the morning. Though we tried, we weren't really able to connect all that well to most of the people at the ger camp we stayed in. People were amused by our music, but that didn't really connect them to us on a level much beyond just some tourist showing up at a tourist place, but it was a good time.

Resting and the Lemons

 

With two of us sick and rough traveling behind and in ahead of us, we decided to take it easy. I updated my blog and relaxed until evening. We walked to the State Department Store, where I replaced my stolen camera. We stopped at the pharmacy where I was very entertained by Omar and Andy miming their symptoms and the medicines (motion sickness pills and antibiotics respectively) they wanted to a non English speaking staff. Lucky for them, a Korean Air hostess walked in and helped them out with her perfect English and Mongolian.

We walked around looking for traditional music performances, but could not find any. Instead, we checked out a fun Mongolian band called the Lemons at the Grand Irish Pub. It was fun and I managed a sketch. The set was short, but I managed to sketch two members, before the place closed and we walked back to the hostel.

Naadam

 

Next morning we went to the Naadam Festival. We wanted to go to the opening ceremony, but the hostel wanted to sell them together. So we went to the stadium, figuring we would take out chances there. Along the way, most places were closed. We met some tourists from Holland and walked with them to the Naadam Stadium. Along the way I photographed some interesting graffiti and old trains. At the stadium there were many people all around. We managed to get all 4 of us tickets to the opening for a good price by bargaining just before it began. We quickly rushed into the stadium, and I realized that someone had likely picked my pocket and my camera their own. I felt crummy about it, but I still had my video camera, so I shot some memories with that and tried not to think about it too much. Being there was more amazing than owning a camera. There were lots of acrobats, dancers and parades of archers, wrestlers, horsees and performances with Buddhist masks and music. The crowd was excited and you could tell there was a lot of pride and love for their own culture. The crowd dispersed considerably once the preliminary wrestling began.

We watched for a bit and then walked outside the stadium, looking at stalls. Andy and Mike drank some Aireg (traditional fermented Mare's milk drink) and we hopped on a bus to the valley outside the city where the horse racing and cultural exhibits were taking place. Out the window, the cityscape turned to green hills and gers in the distance and after a little over an hour we were there.

Mike got in a long line for food. Omar and I sat down in the grass and a soon a couple of teens on horses dropped by to say hello. We traded broken English back and forth. They were nice kids and after a bit said goodbye and rode on down the hill. Andy joined Mike (still in line) while Omar and I walked off to look for the cultural area we had heard about at the market. As we approached a circle enclosing a bunch of stalls, we heard a man calling for us to come over. We went over and a Mongolian man and his wife and mother or mother in law asked if we were Muslim, then invited us to join them. They offered us some food, though we had to decline as it was not vegetarian. We talked for a while with the couple. The husband worked with a lot of Muslims in Malaysia and he mentioned that there were some Pakistani businessmen in Ulannbataar who imported second hand Japanese cars which were put to use by the Mongolians in their capital.

His brother had just finished up some beautiful paintings of horses along the circular enclosure for the Naadam Culture Festival. Suddenly people started walking to the trail below to watch the young horse riders race past. The crowd cheered and we watched for a while before walking back to Andy and Mike. They were still in line, but understandably frustrated and angry at this point. They had been cut many times and once by a family where the father wanted to fight with them for being upset that they were cutting on front of them in line. Fed up, they left the line and walked with us to the Culture area. We missed the two live traditional music performances, but managed to check out booths for traditional games, felt art making, traditional music where Andy sang with a Tuvan singer. At the felt art making booth, I spoke to a young Mongolian girl who suggested I should make a piece. As an artist I really wanted to try it, so I purchased some tokens and came back to do just that. While we were waiting, the girl asked how I liked the event, and my only problem was I could not find any food I could eat. She walked over and grabbed a bag of chocolate from her stuff and gave it to me. We talked for a bit while waiting for the felt artist to be free so she could show me how to make a piece. Then when the artist was free, the girl kindly held on to my bag for me and I went to work with this artist. The girl provided some translations between me and the artist. The artist was a really nice woman. I suggested we make flowers, so she started making one on one side of the wool sheet and I made one next to it.

She took her time and very sweetly explained by example how it was down. We used soapy water to make the fluffy wool manageable. She shaped an fiery flower with some great color mixing. During the process she was a little uncertain at my flower. Without the stem it looked like a colored blob. She said "This one my flower, that one yours." and I couldn't deny that it looked pretty strange. I managed to pull it together once I added the stem and she could see where I was going. Then she complimented it and asked which I liked better. I felt that they were both best together. There is nothing like the connection you feel when you create art together. It is such a beautiful and joyous experience to just enjoy creating something with someone in such a free manner.

We both had so much fun working on it together, we exchanged emails and I asked my Mike to take a picture of all of us together. That experience is what traveling is all about to me. Connecting with people all over the world is simply amazing. Andy, Mike, Omar and I walked around some more as the booths closed down one by one. We bought tickets for the evening music show and just hung out, talking to event organizers from the Mongolian Arts Council etc. I did a quick sketch of the beautiful sky and hills. Living in the city it is easy to forget how amazing it feels to be surrounded by such beauty and to breathe such clean air. Andy, Mike and I walked to the traditional Mongolian games stall, which had long since closed. An old Mongolian man in traditional dress with endless patience played a game where he flicked a plastic disc off a rectangular piece of wood to try and hit two tiny ankle bones on a chest across from him.We watched for a while as he kept getting closer. After each try, he walked over and picked up the disk, only to return to the tiny stool and try again. Finally, he invited us to try by motioning to us. He replaced the ankle bones with a larger target of a row of plastic cylinders. Without any common language he patiently showed us how to do it. Andy tried, then Mike. I watched and learned from each. Surprisingly I managed to hit it within a few tries and then Mike and Andy tried again until they got it too. We thanked our host and walked to where the concert would take place later. We met up with Omar and bought tickets.

 

The concert began as the long Mongolian sunset began. We sat in front and I knocked out some sketches of solo and collaborative Mongolian and Korean music performances. We talked to the organizers a bit afterward then hopped on the performers bus back to the city.

Ulanbataar

 

  

Took it easy today. A slow start to regain som energy for the Naadam festival which begins tomorrow. We walked toward the National Musical Instrument Store. There were some interesting buildings along the way, met an Indian American from Berkley named Jaspal while passing the parliament building, shortly after my encounter with the Duracel (yes duracel) bunny. He was working on medical research in Mongolia, helping people to make use of technology in remote areas. We ate at a Ukranian restaurant where vegetarian means big pieces of meat.

It's hilarious to try and explain to cab drivers how to take us back to our hostel. It is by the train station, and we usually say choo choo, and then Omar drew a train. It cracks up even the most serious cab driver every time. So far we keep making it back to the hostel using that method.

I lost my photos from this day because my camera was stolen the following day and I had not downloaded them, so here are photos by Omar of our adventures that day.

Ulanbataar Arrival

Day started with us still on the train to Mongolia, but now on the Mongolian side. Flat desert land changed to flat grass land over time. We could see some horses, sheep and a few gers and shacks along the way. It wasn't until we approached Ulanbataar that we saw some small buildings. Little Chengaiz dropped by a few times and Andy played some Sepultura for him on my ipod and headphones. He liked the headphones. As we neared our destination, he sat looking very pensive out the window and shied away when I took a photo. We spoke to the Mongolian ambassador to Turkey (or maybe he just worked for the embassy there, not sure) along the way. Eventually we reached there, and I felt a bit better. We were all relieved after the 30 hour ride.Mongolia is fascinating. As far as I know, Ulanbataar is the only city and there is diverse scenic beauty to be had all around. This city is in the middle of gorgeous grassy mountains. We washed up at the hostel as the rain died down. After we walked around waterfilled potholes with a girl from the hostel. We grabbed some food at a vegetarian restaurant and then took a trip to the Naran Tuul Market, which was like a Jumma Bazaar (Friday Market in Pakistan). We had been warned by the Mongolian Ambassador to Turkey not to bother going there because of pickpockets and it was dirty, but we went anyway. It was interesting, with all kinds of household goods, clothes etc. We saw a traditional street performer singing, and Andy tried out some of the Mongolian Fiddles (he actually has one at home so he knows how to play it). It was fun to see him play and to see the surprise and delight of the people selling the instruments. They were happy to tell us about the instruments. On the way out, we were very lucky and ran into a group of people promoting Culture Naadam, Nomad Arts Festival. We are here in Mongolia to check out the Nadaam Festival, which is the biggest cultural celebration in Mongolia. There are many related celebrations going on throughout the town and many people from all over the world are here to enjoy it. It starts on July 11th. The people we ran into were promoting an arts and music focused Nadaam event where there will be horse racing, archery and perhaps wrestling, but there will also be tons of musicians and painters..I can't wait!We walked back to the State Department store; a 7 level shopping mall and checked out some things there before grabbing some food across the street and taking poor sick Andy home to the hostel. The taxi ride home was pretty entertaining. Omar ended up drawing a crude looking train after we spent about five minutes saying choo choo to try and explain that we wanted to go near the train station.Finally we got home, checked some email and crashed.The people here are interesting. My first impression is of a sort of macho attitude and at first people did not seem to smile, but then some did later on. There seems to be a strong connection maintained to their culture, though pop and hip hop is a strong influence here as well. The weather is cool and the scenery is breathtaking. The traffic is very slow, but people do seem to stop at lights, and there is a better chance of a car stopping for a pedestrian here than in China.

Beijing to Mongolia

The next morning we got up too early and head over to the train station to catch the train to Ulanbataar, capital of Mongolia. The diverse scenery of China along the way was fascinating. There were all kinds of small industrial and farming communities. As we traveled further, the landscape transformed from grassy fields and rocky hills to flat, barren desert with sparse vegetation and back again. The wait staff on the train was horrible. One guy, my friends had nicknamed "pork rind face" kept messing with us. The staff in the dining car were always hanging out refusing to serve food (at least whenever we went there) and coupled with the 30 hours of travel it made for rough going. Andy and I felt sick. My head really hurt and I felt weak. All we could eat was ramen and chips etc. We made sure to stock up, but after a while you really want something with more substance. 

There was this hilarious little Mongolian kid who spoke some English, Mandarin and Mongolian on the train. He'd come by and visit, and each time we'd wonder which split personality would be on exhibit. Sometimes he was really nice, and polite, saying sorry, as he squeezed past other passengers hanging out in the hall. Other times you could say something to him and he'd get this adorably evil look on his face and just keep telling people to shut up (not so cute). That's when I'd worry that little Chengaiz would lunge forward and drink my blood at any moment.

Apparently the tracks are different on the Mongolian side versus China. So once we reached the last border town in China, we stopped for 5 hours, going through Chinese customs, and a lovely train wheel replacement process that involved lots and lots of ramming. Most of the passengers were let off before this began, while those of us who were foreign to China or Mongolia were forced to stay on the train as our passports were scrutinized by customs outside. No one told us anything as we waited, My friends and I were the only ones in our car left with "Pork Rind Face" who slept in his room and told us we could not get off the train. The cars were disconnected as the laborious process of replacing wheels took place. I felt pretty miserable at this point, and we were all pretty irritated.Eventually, they were letting some people from other cars (we could see out the window) out. "Pork Rind Face" tried to tell us we still could not leave and by this point we realized that this jerk was trying to give us a hard time for nothing, so we just got off. We walked over to the general store at the station in the middle of the night. It was all pretty surreal. All the foreign passengers were emerging from the cars at last as the rest of the passengers re-boarded with bags full of food from the store. We stumbled to the general store with Celine Dion blaring from speakers all over the station.

We grabbed a whole bunch of food and sat outside in a daze with all the other foreigners. Finally, it was time to re-board and we got back into our "cells". My head hurt really bad and I felt weak so I tried to sleep. The guys for some reason thought it would be great to play cards with the neighboring Mongolian girls so they all squeezed into our compartment, woke me up and scrunched me up into half the bed. I tried to keep sleeping...but it was pointless. They played for a little bit then decided to call it a night. Just long enough for me to be wide awake as the lights went out and they were all ready to sleep. I was really angry and let my frustration out on the guys. My head pounded pretty bad, and I really wasn't in the mood to be anywhere at that point. It probably wasn't the best time to get mad, but sometimes that's just how goes.

On the plus side, I did my first watercolor sketch of the trip today, before I started feeling terrible.

Beijing, China and the J-Pop Sensation!

 

Our bus reached Beijing in the morning. We grabbed some food by the side of the road, outside the bus depot and walked to a bus stop that took us to the center of the city. Andy saw some funky looking hairdressers with big J-Pop hair hanging outside a barbershop and decided to get a hair cut. He and Omar went there while Mike and I walked further down the narrow lane to an internet cafe to get directions to our hostel. We came back to the barbershop and witnessed the beginnings of Andy's transformation into a J-Pop sensation (he's been on Japanese TV you know)..but these things take time, so we left Omar to document the process and Mike and I grabbed the metro to the hostel. Beijing is a strange city of facades from what I have seen. There is rapid construction of new traditional looking buildings and accents to stores all over. The shopekeepers seem trained to sell to foreigners, but there is a complete lack of warmth or reality. For a city with such a rich cultural history, it is sad to see it become this for the Olympics. We'll have to explore some more when we get back, but that is my initial impression. We waited for Andy and Omar at the metro stop, but gave up after a while to grab some noodles. I'd run out of clean shirts, and you really can't reuse once worn clothing in this humid heat, so I just walked around like that.

While we were eating, Andy and Omar walked passed the restaurant. We got them and they grabbed some food too. After, we went and to the hostel where everyone else cleaned up while I checked email. Andy and Omar found a guitar and bongos in the hostel cafe and started playing music. I joined them with some singing and we entertained the other travellers in the hostel cafe for a while before heading out to walk around. The area we were in was surrounded by trendy, over priced shops that were fairly devoid of customers. People were walking around, but I didn't see many buying. I don't know who these stores cater too. I assume to foreigners. We met an interesting girl working at a music cd store who told us about a lot of different types of Chinese music. Communicating was interesting because Mike was not with us and she hardly knew any english. We managed to write notes and use hand gestures combining Andy's knowledge of Japansese (I guess some of the characters are common) to get some information.

We walked on and passed some tattoo shops and more expensive boutiques before settling on a place for dinner. We managed to order some vegetarian food and struck up a conversation with some guys at the table next door who looked like they could be in a band. Turns out they were. One of them spoke some english (his nickname as he told us was Paco). He was really into all kinds of music and their band played rap/rock. They also had a shop we visited with their own label of "urban" style clothing just like the U.S. He told us about a huge rock show like woodstock for Chinese Bands that takes place in October in Beijing. We got his info and will try and check out his band when we return to Beijing.

Afterwards, we walked past the Wu Mart and tons of trendy stores to make our way back to the hostel. We walked over to the hostel cafe and found it full of foreigners again. Omar picked up the bongos, Andy the guitar and we played music deep into the night, and talked about all the cafe folks about Mongolia, shared experiences, the joys of travelling etc. It was a pretty diverse group. We have not run into any Americans on this trip though we have come across Europeans, and some Chinese travellers. It was really fun playing to that crowd late at night. Since I could communicate to them in English, I was able to tell them about the songs we sang and about some of the wonderful experiences we had enjoyed in Anqing.

We went to bed later than we should have as usual, but as usual, it was worth it.

Jiuhuashan to Anqing to Beijing

 

The next morning we head put early in the morning without hardly any sleep. The bus took us down the mountain, and on to another bus back to Anqing. It broke down and we hung out for an hour until it was repaired and we could continue. Back in Anqing a few random people welcomed us back knowing we had left the day before. Somehow word got around. We called a friend of Mike's to meet, but it did not work out, so we trudged around. Walking past a shoe shop we heard some really cool music, so we stopped in and asked them if we could copy it. So we did, and the store staff were quite amused. We grabbed some food, hit a squawking zombie filled internet cafe. The resthouse owner came with is to revisit Kim Jong at the bus depot to help us get a good price and see us off. OUr friend from the Suzuki shop dropped by with some food for the trip. The people in Anqing were the best. We head out very grateful to them on a bus with beds, thankful to a Korean dictator for securing us 4 spots on the bus, driven by his brother who squawked at people on the bus until his voice went hoarse. Tiny kids were crammed into the aisles along the way. Mike was cooked in the back of the bus, before I took his place and sweat more in that shirt than I have ever sweat in any shirt over and over without washing before.We made friends with the sweet kids on their way back to their families from school, on break. They were patient with our weak Chinese and we traded snacks. Mostly we tried to sleep, stopping once for a quick bathroom break and once for food in the middle of the night. Passengers were nice and tried to make sure we all knew when to eat etc.

17 hours is along time to soak in your own sweat in a cramped dirty bed on a bus.