Chinese Tennis = WWE Wrestling

Since I arrived here and began commuting to work, I would see flapping posters on the street lights depicting Novak Djokovic and Rafael Nadal advertising some tennis event. I looked it up online and saw that Shanghai actually brings in huge names for a tournament: the Shanghai Rolex Masters. This is one of the stops on the ATP World Tour. I figured it wouldn't be too hard to get tickets and it may be worth it to see the big players while I have a chance. As you can see, my family has converted me to their tennis-loving ways. I still don't play but I am clearly a good fan.

Unfortunately, both Federer and Djokovic pulled out because they are dumb and "tired" or whatever. I still thought it would be an interesting activity, so my friend Dan and I went to get tickets. This happened after I apparently missed the online buying date and then the over-the-phone buying date, which was told to me in Chinese after I pressed 2 for English. It was a confusing time.

We live near the stadium where I thought the tournament was playing to buy the tickets on Tuesday and two scalpers approached us telling me, "the tennis tickets are sold out." I didn't trust them, so I asked the lady in the window who confirmed the news. Damn, I am not a huge fan of scalping, especially in China where everything can be faked, and faked well. I talked with the guy a bit, letting him know I was skeptical and that we'd just peace out if he tried to do anything weird. We ended up getting the tickets we wanted for just a 20元 markup. I was surprised at the tickets being sold out but, hey, it's world-class tennis so maybe it's quite popular?

The day of the quarterfinals, I had to go straight from work on the bus. But after looking around at work for some information, I realized that the event was definitely NOT at the Shanghai Indoor Stadium because there is an actual special tennis stadium built specifically to attract big events. I quickly texted Dan and explained how to get to the Qizhong Stadium which is, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere. It is at the end of line 5, which you can only get to by going to the end of line 1! Then you have to catch a cab from the metro terminal station to get to the stadium. It was kind of a joke, though we both made it there easily. Sadly, I missed Andy Roddick but he lost (of course) so I guess it's fine.

Side note: as I'm writing this I am catching glimpses my laundry wave madly in the breeze. I'm worried it's going to fly away. Hmmph.

Back to my story...so I get to the stadium and it is incredible! As the cabbie--who, by the way, was just a guy from Anhui province trying to make a buck in his little orange Honda--pulled up to the gate, I just admired the enormity and shininess of the place. It rose from the flat industrial zone like a temple of tennis, majestically towering in the evening light. It is very much a world-class facility but the location is certainly a joke. Any time you need to take two subways and a cab, you've got a problem. This bizarre situation was the subject of mine and Dan's conversation for much of the evening.

 

Retractable roof stadium!

Inside, there were many a foreigner but also Chinese. It was not crowded at all. This annoyed me. We could sit pretty much anywhere, and we'd paid for "better" seats that we could have just moseyed over to from the higher section. Bah humbug! But we had a great view of the matches and I got to talk about Oregon with people because I was wearing my Oregon shirt (thanks Lena!).  A man from Bend talked to me as we waited to get in and some kids from Arizona talked football with me. It was great!

I came in during one of the matches and saw that through to completion. After a short break, it was time for the next match. The lights dimmed and loud music began to play. I was confused, wasn't this a tennis tournament? A strobe light flashed and a spotlight circled the stadium. A man in the middle of the court jabbered in Chinese about something. A fog machine began to spill out mist by a doorway decorated in blue shimmery streamers. Dan laughed as they announced the player (F. Mayer) in ominous tones and he wandered out of the fog onto the court. Do you think they're used to this treatment? I'm thinking not. It was definitely tennis with Chinese characteristics, and it was hilarious.

All in all, it reminded me of TV wrestling, especially when the announcer was getting the crowd worked up. If the prim and proper Wimbledon fans could see this...

 
And now...Andy Murray walks through the fog!

 Loud music and flashing lights. Get pumped up!

 

Tennis!

Here's that day's schedule, I just missed the Roddick game. As you can see, our view was amazing and there were two big screens for replays and stats. The crowd got very excited about Hawk-Eye, the tracking system they use when players challenge a call. A heartbeat noise would play loudly and the crowd would "oooooh" in unison. I quite liked the energy in the stadium. It was pleasant. The matches were also interspersed with plane noises, which continually surprised me because I kept forgetting the roof was open. Then I would get a chill and remember that we were effectively outside. I apparently have no memory to speak of, but the stadium was really very comfortable and enclosed, so it was easy to think we were indoors.

We watched Andy Murray start to soundly defeat his opponent and bopped out before the crowds started and before the metro closed. It would be a very, very high price to cab all the way home from this place. There were many unofficial cabbies trying to charge obscene rates to the metro so we found a metered taxi across the road. He took us to the metro station quickly and it cost half of what the men were charging at the stadium. We also ended up more than halfway down line 5, so our trip was shortened significantly and for the same price. Now, if I go back, I feel like I can get there quicker and cheaper. The thing is, I think the Rolex Masters is the only thing going on. The stadium has no point beyond that one tournament. Again, bizarre.

 Reppin' Oregon.

 Night at the stadium.

All in all, a successful tennis adventure! Thanks for reading.

Love,

ellen

the wild west: it's panda time!

Chengdu, in the heart of Sichuan Province, is home to the giant panda. You can't go to Chengdu, and not see the pandas. Though I almost didn't, because it seemed like a troublesome endeavor. That, however, was naive of me, because it was absolutely the easiest and most pleasant adventure I've done by myself.

We returned to Chengdu after a disgruntled morning in which we broke a bus door and had our bags held hostage by the angry bus driver until money was paid. All before the sun rose. By we, I mean one of our group members, but there's no need to disclose their name. The point is, try not to mess stuff up in China, because foreigners get screwed. Furthermore, you think Chinese is helpful until you realize that many locals speak their own dialect and barely speak standard Mandarin. Then you're in a world of hurt.

After an hour of heated discussion and unhappiness, we got on our bus to Chengdu. We drove along a canyon of staggering beauty and horrifying mining operations. The imminent destruction of wild places in China is enough to spur me into seeing everything I can now. We could see where all the marble that lines the subway stations in Shanghai is mined and the mountain sides that used to be lush and pretty.

The bus ride was long, long, long. We stopped at some hideous lunch canteen that overcharged everyone, and probably especially us foreigners. It was unpleasant. I visited the most disgusting outhouse/restroom I have ever seen, and I've seen many. Any primitive toilet is disturbing in its own right, but with the addition of hundreds of people becomes unbearable. Yuck!

Anyway, we made it back to Chengdu in one piece and I came back to the dorms at Sichuan University for a free bed! They have a great setup for exchange students and I fit right in with no questions asked from the front desk people. Thanks to Dana for letting me crash in her room. I'm so grateful and I had a wonderful time.

I went to dinner with several Americans living in Chengdu. We had a traditional Sichuanese hot pot, which is where you sit around a big pot of boiling broth and put raw stuff in it to cook. It was so spicy I could only eat about ten things. But it was certainly satisfying. The others made fun of my fledgling Sichuan tastebuds, but I made it through without tears or tantrum.

I did not go see the nightlife of Chengdu (though I've heard it's awesome) because I needed to sleep before my panda adventure. I was walking to the tourist bus station and then catching a 2元 bus all the way to the panda zoo. To clarify, they call it the Giant Panda Breeding Research Base which makes it sound like a wildlife refuge or something. It's just a zoo. A zoo with mainly pandas in it. So don't expect anything more if you go.

The trip was easy enough and totally worth the hassle because it's ridiculously cheap. I bought my ticket into the "Research Base" and promptly headed to the restroom (because who knows when you'll find a usable one again) where I had a nice cartoon to look at.

 

Pretty funny, right?

Well, I thought it was hilarious so I took a picture. But anyway, most people arrive at the zoo with a large tour group, and you know how I feel about large groups...

So I promptly took off in the opposite direction of everyone...and ended up on a fifteen-minute walk alone in a beautiful arboretum interspersed with random panda enclosures. I saw four people! It was insane and AMAZING. It was quiet; I could hear the crickets chirping and birds chattering. Best of all, I got to appreciate all the zoo had to offer without sharing it with anyone. Is that selfish? Sorry...

 

Flowers.

 

Self-portrait of yours truly.

The panda cages were pretty nice for a Chinese zoo. Some of the pandas were eating, but most were lounging around in their fat panda way.

 

Hehehe.

 

Okay, I'll try.

 

Oh, to be a panda! Chillin'.

So cute.

 

You thought THAT was cute, look at these!

Yep, got to see some very tiny panda babies. There was a huge bottleneck in this area of the zoo. This is for two reasons: the panda is China's national symbol and everyone (especially Chinese) loves extra cute things. The combo of nationalism and cuteness was pretty much overwhelming to everyone. We all swooned.

They also had red pandas, which are awesome critters that are a combo of cat and badger. Plus they are colored kind of like a fox. They crawled around everywhere and dangled from trees. The zookeeper came out at some point and yelled at them as though they were children, telling them to come and get their food. It was hilarious! They are so squirrelly and fun!

 

Mr. Red Panda.

So there you have it, my trip to Chengdu and the west of China. I had an amazing time and I am thankful to have friends in that city. The food and vibe are amazing. If Shanghai is New York, then Chengdu is like Denver or Seattle. Clearly, my kind of place.

Ttyl readers!
ellen

Starbucks is MY Place

Today I went and sat at Starbucks before my Chinese class. I halted the conversation of the men sitting by me, who continually chatted then stopped and stared. I caught them four times and then just ignored them because it was awkward. Then a lady and her companion shot glances at me, over the backs of their chairs!

Listen, people, Starbucks is MY place. I'm from Washington and I love coffee and I should be able to sit and study without being a freak.

I'm beginning to suspect it is because I was wearing a hat. It is still "too warm" for hats in China. You shouldn't be wearing one yet, I guess. My colleagues said something as did my kindergarten kiddies. Whoops. I was inadvertently a super weirdo in China today.

Either that, or I really am a super hot goddess woman.

ellen

the wild west: part two

And on to Danba we went. This drive was a bit more harrowing and irritating than the first. The road was bumpy and I had been relegated (granted, self-relegated, but I think it is nice for the smallest people to acknowledge their size) to the back seat where four of us jammed together on rickety seats. If my butt wasn't up against the cold side of van, it was balanced precariously on some sort of metal bar. We all took turns stretching our shoulders out or our butts up. It was...snug to say the least.

So we passed over some pretty terrible bumps for a few hours and got to Danba by lunchtime. We located a hotel that allows foreigners (maybe?) and dropped of our bags in the filthy rooms. Quite literally, it was the worst hotel I've ever stayed in. Ever. The bathrooms reeked and the sheets were questionably clean. Instead of being given keys, the proprietor had to come and unlock the doors when we got back from town. Dana and I struggled in our sleep to share the tiny blanket on our double bed. I also realized at this point that I had been relieved of my iPod at some point during the day's journey. I am now using a tiny Sony for school. I am sad, but life sucks, especially when you own expensive things.

Ah, by the way, I don't think I've really showed you where I was.

 

 

So looking west from Chengdu, you can see Kangding, Tagong and Danba. Past Kangding, you reach a part of the Tibetan Autonomous Region, though not "Tibet" as we know it in the West. The area is mostly inhabited by ethnic Tibetans, however.

 

In a beautiful valley. Not-so-beautiful city.

Danba's location is stellar, with several rivers merging in deep valleys. The city is typical Chinese concrete architecture that never takes into account the scenery. In the hills, you can see little Tibetan villages in orderly clusters. The view must be amazing!

We hiked up some stairs we saw off the side of road that just kept continuing up the slope. There were few people on a very well-laid path with nice rest stop pagodas every few hundred meters. We were heading up to the Tibetan villages, but it seemed quite far. I wasn't prepared to hike in my flippy-floppies and lack of coat, so I stopped once I reached a high point on the trail. I also didn't have my camera but once I get a few pics, I'll post 'em here. I was lucky, because about an hour after I turned around, it started pouring rain.

 

Tibetan villages.

 

Alleys into mountains.

 

My horrific sunburn and amazing Tibetan wear.

One night, we came back from hiking in a village and the hotel owner's wife decided that I should try on some of her traditional clothing. She is a Danba native and had the entire outfit, plus some. Once again, I was showered with unnecessary compliments about how nice my figure was (oh stop!) which Lucas decided to awkwardly translate every time she said it. I got an embroidered skirt, a colorful woven belt, a white silk shirt and a fake hair headdress. As I posed, Dennis walked in the door and the lady asked genuinely, "Would you like to wear girl's clothes?" He looked confused and then decided to accept her offer. Hence, the skirt. It is not a man outfit, Dennis is wearing a female costume. I love unique cultural encounters!

Our second day, we visited the tourist stops of Suopo and Jiaju. The first was a couple of miles down the road so we decided to walk. Unfortunately, we turned the wrong way and walked in a muddy road with trucks passing us and drivers looking concerned at the eight random foreigners trekking through the muck. Eventually, a car stopped and told us that we were going the wrong way (they recognized us from the bar the night before). So we went back to the bread truck stop and hired a guy to take us around.

We stopped at a suspension bridge where we were met by a bunch of young boys wanting to "guide" us in the village. We told them no, but they hung around for a good while practicing English and messing around with the older boys.

Suopo is famous for its collection of ancient Qiang watchtowers that were used to protect villages in the olden days. They are quite imposing structures, though I'm not sure what kind of invading army would attempt to capture these steep mountain villages. We also paid to get into this village, though the guys that climbed to the villages the day before said they saw a bunch up in the hills behind our hotel fo' free. Oh, well.

 

Watchtowers.

 

We had some guides.

  

He was a fly little guy.

Next we drove to Jiaju Ancient Village, supposedly the "most beautiful village in China," according to Chinese National Geographic. Some of our companions raced up a road into the mountains, but a couple of us decided to chill and wander the village. I wanted to get some watercolors done in the pretty mountain area.

We walked along the road to a viewpoint and plopped down to chat and ponder the sky. Herds of Chinese periodically passed through, asking hello and looking closely at my painting. They used long camera lenses to take our photo and especially enjoyed artistic shots of me with my moleskin and watercolor set.

 

The beauty in Jiaju.

 

Corn into cliff.

 

Mountains in the distance.

We sat and wandered for several hours, admiring the quiet paths interspersed with jabbering Chinese tourists and motorcycles. I would love to stay in a guesthouse here at some point in the future, but we didn't have time. The quiet and expansive setting was so refreshing after Shanghai. I'm pretty sure I'll be back.

 

Setting sun.

We returned to our driver as the sun was setting, involving ourselves in a fair bit of photos with curious tourists. We tried to charge some money for our photos, but the Chinese just laughed along. I mean, we were kind of serious...

We returned to town in darkness and ate a final meal as a group. We were now splitting up, as Lucas and Dennis went further into Western Sichuan and the rest of us returned to Chengdu. The parting was sad because I really enjoyed everyone and truly missed my old friends. I think we'll see each other again, traveling in some exotic locale.

Our bus left at 6am, with some minor troubles which I will discuss in another post. That...and PANDAS!

 
Parting shot.

Love,

ellen

the wild west: part one

Contrary to popular belief, as indicated by the Facebook posts and Skype messages, I am not missing and I will be blogging again. It is heart-warming to know so many of you read my blog and care that I haven't been kidnapped. Thanks! 

Also, I actually wrote this last week but then Blogger deleted it and I was so angry and pessimistic I couldn’t get going for a while. Sorry. I’m back. I plomise. 

There is now one official holiday week in China called Golden Week, which is after National Day on October 1st. There used to be two golden weeks, but the Chinese government decided that that was just ridiculous and now there is just the one. It is actually five official days and one unofficial weekend. It makes no sense, really. I had to make up this unofficial weekend by working seven days straight. It was AWFUL. I am a firm believer in the weekend now. As if I wasn't before. But really.

I found out in August that two of my study abroad friends were living in Chengdu, so we planned to meet in October and see some of western China. I bought a plane ticket and hoped for the best. Several teacher friends also came along to see the famed pandas of Chengdu. Our flight out of Shanghai was delayed, so we ended up not arriving in Chengdu until midnight or so. Ugh.

The line for taxis into town was obscene and a lady (addressing me as meinu, or pretty lady) promised to take us to our hostel for 150元. This was about double the official taxi rate, but the line was looking like about a half-an-hour. We decided to take up her sketchy offer and she promptly led us up to the drop-off area at the terminal, where she called her accomplice who'd been circling the airport. This system avoided both the exit fee and the taxi line in the pick-up area. We drove through several toll roads but if you have the money, I guess know one asks why a random black Toyota has three white chicks in it at one in the morning.

At our hostel, the incompetent attendant tried to muddle through the official paperwork and copying of passports. I'm aware that it was late, but he was dreadfully inept. I was leaving at six am, or about five hours later. He needed all my info, a signature, and 50元 for the key deposit. We got one key for three of us but we all had to pay. I also didn't get that 50元 back until my return because he couldn't quite fathom how I was separating from my arrival companions. Granted, he was asleep on a cot when I woke up to catch a taxi, so perhaps he was just confused.

I met my friends at the tourist bus station. There was my two West Coast (BEST COAST!) friends plus five of their dorm friends from Sichuan University. For a group of eight, it was an incredibly natural, relaxed and entertaining bunch. We got along quite well. The one other girl, Dana, turned out to be an amazingly warm and funny person. I was very lucky to end up with this crowd. 

After about nine hours on a bus, our crew arrived in Kangding, a gorgeous town in a river valley with towering hills all around. The hostel overbooked that night and kicked us out for a Chinese tour group (gotta love being foreign sometimes) so we shouldered our packs and hit the town, hoping to find a place to stay. Many a random Tibetan offered us lodging in their apartments or houses, obviously an illegal activity. Because they were charging so much, we didn’t feel like taking them up just yet. As we walked, some other friends ended up locating an American with connections in the town. We were offered lodging in someone’s attic rooms for 50元 per night. This was looking like the best deal, so we trudged up into the hills to find the place.

It turned out we were staying with a Tibetan family. The rooms were normally reserved for Tibetans coming down from the plateau to receive medical care in the big city. We were the first foreigners to stay there. It was a humble abode with the most amazing view of the valley. In the States, property like that would go for a million bucks. We slept in two rooms on rugs with toasty comforters. It was quite lovely.

 

Ooh la la.

Our host was an interesting man who had received a USAID grant for Tibetan cultural preservation and environmental activism. He showed us pictures of his gorgeous hometown and also gave us books he wrote on various subjects. I’m sure he’s on some list somewhere, as his activities are distinctly unusual and could be interpreted as subversive. AWESOME! What a badass.

 

The valley city of Kangding.

We left Kangding in the misty morning for Tagong, a small tourist town on the grassy plateau of Western Sichuan. The day before we had hired a mianbao che, or bread truck, to take us the several hours up the highway. We listened to Tibetan music like this:

And it was super authentic! Yeah!

Tagong is famous for its temple and a large mountain that looms in the distance. The temple, excuse me, sucks and is not worth the 10元 we paid to get in there. The peak, unfortunately, was shrouded in clouds for the duration of our stay. She would not reveal herself. 

We ended up in an awesome hostel with elaborately decorated rooms. We paid 40元 each, and as we bargained, the proprieter’s hustlers out on the road informed us that Chinese were paying around 110元. Sometimes I am glad to be a foreigner! By the way, this is because Chinese are considered outsiders in the Tibetan region. This is also the reason we spoke in English with many people, because Chinese is the language of the colonizer.

A bit busy, you might say.

 

Little pony.

Our hostel and many others in the area rented out riding horses at the temple for extra cash. They were ripping off Chinese tourists right and left!

 

The only nice photo. 

As we moseyed back from our temple tour, we saw great peaks in the distance. So we went looking for a better view!

 

"Peaking" out. Hahhahaha.

Dennis hitched a ride.

 

Looking fly. 

We took a trail marked by prayer flags just outside the city gate. It was pretty much slush and scrub the entire way.

 

 

The view from the top and the famous mountain hiding from us.

So we basically just scrambled up a snowy hill. I was less than prepared but it was fun. I also got the worst sunburn I’ve had in five years. That was embarrassing and also explains the lack of photos of me.

We ventured back to our place in town and located some Tibetan food for dinner. This included yak meat dumplings (momo) and a delicious meat stew. Of course, we had cups of yak butter tea, which tastes like protein. It’s bizarre but certainly warms you up.

 

Yak butter tea. 

From Tagong, our next stop was Danba! More on that to come…

Thanks for your patience,

ellen