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