Journey to the East

A Happy Mid-Autumn Festival to all of you! In China, like everywhere else I guess, there’s always a special kind of air you feel on holidays. Today there was an almost tangible sense of the holiday atmosphere in Ji’nan. Spirits seemed to run high all over the town, buoyed by incredibly blue skies and beautiful sunshine. The weather was too perfect today, so much so that I felt guilty staying inside (indeed, many of my Chinese friends told me when I talked to them today that they took this opportunity to get out and go to the zoo or to the park). And so, of course, I went out to seek what I could of the holiday.

And what does one do as an American on this traditional Chinese autumnal festival? You import your own American autumnal traditions, of course: We played football. Yep, we walked across the street to the large open parking lot in front of Hero Mountain and threw the football, which made for an incredible and pleasant September afternoon. I found it somehow appropriate that on this holiday, which is not unlike Thanksgiving Day in its sentiment, we marked the day the way that many Americans do on Thanksgiving at home: tossing around the pigskin.

All around the park, people were out doing the same as we were: enjoying a beautiful day. On the way to throw the ball, we passed various clusters of activity. Amateur opera troops had set up shop and were drawing crowds with their performances. Groups of people with colored scarves or flags were waving them around as they did line dancing to blaring Chinese Pop tunes. Kite-fliers were out in abundance. The roller-skating rink in the middle of the park was PACKED with skaters. People were flocking up the mountain, making an effort to get to the summit and gaze out. Something was going on almost EVERYWHERE today.

As afternoon began to fade in to evening, we all headed for  a favorite dumpling restaurant for a big holiday dinner. We weren’t the only ones with this idea, though. The restaurant was crowded and buzzing. Like us, many of the patrons were out enjoying a lively holiday meal. Again, in places so boisterous it’s hard not feel like the excitement of the celebration, or the “holiday spirit” if you will, is something you could literally feel or take hold of. At times like these I always feel like I’m (tangentially or not) sharing in some larger part of the Chinese experience. It’s a good feeling, like I’m very connected to the place where I am, and I’m always grateful for moments like these.

On the way home from dinner tonight, I caught a glimpse of the moon. As Mid-Autumn Festival is centered around the moon, moon-gazing is one of the many past-times you’re supposed to enjoy on this day (An aside: My roommate, Chris, told me that at his University Chinese class they were asked share– in Chinese of course– what folklore existed about the moon respective home countries. Lacking a better response, he apparently talked about werewolves, much to the amusement of his teacher. Later, when asked to explain how Americans feel when they look at the moon, Chris apparently responded– after a moment of trying to think of something to say– “Because we’ve sent a man up there, we look at the moon and feel very proud,” which apparently prompted the teacher to laugh and confirm that there was an American flag planted somewhere up there). So, of course I took a moment to take a good look. The moon tonight (fittingly) was round, bright and beautiful as it sat up above the top of Hero Mountain. The skies which had been so clear and blue during the day had deepened into an inky navy blue dotted with stars. Of course, wrapped up in the spirit of the day and also in a bit of nostalgia, I felt like this was the perfect end to the day.

Tomorrow we’ll go back to work and before too long will come my much awaited trip to the Three Gorges. All of this means that I’ll probably be M.I.A. for a while, but stick around as updates will surely come upon my return. Until next time!

Ok, so I’ve gotten kind of behind on the blog (No big surprise here, right?). An explanation is in order. It’s pretty simple, actually: As is often the case over here, the website just ceased to work, meaning I couldn’t log in to update. So here I am, much later, trying to fill in all of the blanks for about a month. I guess, I’ll go for the lightning review… Here goes nothing, then:

Summer is coming to an apex here in Ji’nan. For one thing, the temperatures continue to be blazing hot. Venture outside your apartment for any reason, and you’re sure to return sweating copiously (and I mean it. I have to take a change of shirts when I ride my bike in to work to avoid having to teach all day in a shirt that’s drenched with sweat). Inside my apartment, my air-conditioning unit runs constantly, keeping my room not unlike the inside of a refrigerator unit. Understandably, when it is so hot outside (and I’m not exaggerating when I say that it’s been well over 90 degrees on average) it’s hard to summon up the wherewithal to get out and do things. Despite this, however, I’ve been managing to continue to play in weekly pick-up soccer games. In fact, my foreign friends and I have become regulars. When it’s not blazing hot, it’s usually raining buckets. Ji’nan doesn’t have a monsoon season on the order of Southeast Asia (or anywhere close), but there is a “rainy season,” which is pretty much the entire month of August. Several times in the last month or so, I have walked outside to find my neighborhood completely flooded with rainwater. When it rains here it rains VERY hard. Runoff spills out into the streets. Gutters overflow… as (occasionally) do sewers. It’s unlike rain that I’ve encountered elsewhere because of it’s intensity. The storms come in short, violent bursts and drop tons of water on the city and then go just as quickly. In merely the span of fifteen or twenty minutes, streets will be covered in water.

It’s not really that surprising then, that everyone here seems to want to flock toward cooler climates. During the past several weeks of classes, my students have told me that they’ve all been to many of the various beaches in the area at places like Yantai, Rizhao, Weihai, and of course Qingdao. August seems to be summer vacation time for most Chinese people, and many of my classes were missing students over the past several weeks due to family beach trips. Foreign teachers are no exception to this rule. My friends and I have made two trips to Qingdao in a month (one that I described previously and another last week to get back to the beach and visit Qingdao’s “Beer Festival” which is basically the Chinese version of Oktoberfest… this will be described in detail in following entries, I promise). Each time, I’ve returned to Ji’nan feeling refreshed, so I am convinced that the ocean air does me quite a lot of good.

Summer will linger here for several more weeks. If last fall is any indication, it will be Halloween before the weather really turns here, and then the weather will turn abruptly. The arrival of fall brings a lot with it: new colleagues, new classes, cooler temperatures, and the opportunity to get out and travel again. I’ll get some time off for China’s National Day in October that I can use to take a trip (might head down to Sichuan province to see the very famous national panda reserve). I’m hoping that I’ll get a chance to take some trips further afield this fall (Inner Mongolia’s grasslands come to mind for one), but much depends on scheduling.

Now that the blog is operational again, I’ll get some pictures of Qingdao and Beer Fest posted ASAP. No more excuses. Until then, stay tuned.

I’ve just returned home from a short get-away trip east to the city of Qingdao, and the beach. I’ll post a more thorough report on the city and my impressions of it (complete with photos) very soon. For now, I just wanted to give a small introduction to Qingdao while it’s still pretty fresh in my head. The city lies on the east end of Shandong province in which Ji’nan is situated. By bullet-train, it’s about three hours away from Ji’nan and makes for a really easy trip between teaching weekends. The city is famous in China for lots of different reasons: its seaside location, its former status as a German concession, its self-proclaimed title as the beer capital of China, its hosting of the sailing events for the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games.  More importantly, it is, for us, the perfect spot to get away to for a while.

Some friends and I decided that this week would be a good chance to get out and away from the scorching heat of summertime Ji’nan. Temperatures have been in the nineties on average for at least a few weeks in a row now, and there’s been a pretty thick haze lately (whether this is induced by heat, or pollution, or both is difficult to say). Getting out to Qingdao to enjoy some sea breeze, and cooler weather made a lot of sense. So, we enjoyed a good two days of taking in all the city had to offer: cooler weather, (comparatively) cleaner air, good seafood, and a chance to relax. After a few days by the sea, I’m feeling a little more rested and happy to have had a respite (no matter how brief) from the heat.

I’ll post pictures and more reflections on Qingdao in the next couple of days. Stay tuned…

The weather outside is stifling. The A/C units in school are running full-blast all the time. By the time I get to school, I’m drenched with sweat and look like I’ve been swimming. Must be summer in East China. Must be time for a blog update. First, let me apologize for falling completely off the map for a while. Like the weather, which has grown stifling and lazy, I too have been going through some sort of writing doldrums. I simply wasn’t able to muster up the time (or maybe the effort) to set anything down to writing. So, as you can see, there’s been a bit of a lag here… sorry. That’s pretty much my fault.  This isn’t to say that there’s nothing going on. It’s been a busy time here: midterms, family visits, the World Cup, grading, etc.. Lots of things have been happening all at once. Suddenly, Ji’nan’s short but sweet spring became a hot, lazy summer. We’re now in the midst of July, which is very much high summer here in Ji’nan (actually it has been high summer for a while, summer being one of the longer seasons here).

Summer in Ji’nan is strange when you consider just how cold it was here during winer (which still seems like it was only a very short time ago). In January I would have never imagined that this city could be so hot. And yet, it is. While having to bundle up to spare yourself from frigid and icy winds and temperatures well below freezing in winter, I would have laughed at the idea that summer temperatures rarely dip below 90 degrees here. To call the heat oppressive is not an understatement.

But even though it can feel pretty unbearable, the warm weather has its selling points. Warm weather means that you can do things outside. Unlike in the winter when I was confined to the indoors, trying to keep out of the intense cold, summer lends itself to being outdoors. Now, it’s really easy to go take a bike ride, or a walk through the springs, or to sit outside near one of the springs and draw (I’ve only done this once or twice, but it was fun when I did). At least once a week, I’ve started to play soccer at a local university which has a full-sized, artificial turf field. We’ve had some really great pick-up games against the students who attend and it’s been a a really good way to get some exercise. It’s fun to be able to stay outdoors at night, too. It’s not an uncommon sight to walk out of the gates of my neighborhood to find some of the women who live here sitting out and playing cards together, or to find others in lawn chairs simply out chatting and enjoying a breeze every now and then. Often, I’m able to spend a good, warm night in Quancheng Square, relaxing and hanging out with friends. On nights like this we’ve chatted, played soccer in the square, attemped to fly kites, and watched the fountain displays that go off on either end of the square at night. This would have been unthinkable in January, but on a warm night in June or July it’s been great to be able to sit out and enjoy the outdoors.

Locals are out, too. On any given night, it’s not uncommon  to find lots of people out in the square doing any number of things: practicing calligraphy, ballroom dancing, in-line skating (this is VERY popular, especially with little kids who go zooming around lines of cones doing all kinds of crazy footwork), tai chi, playing with skip-its (SKIP-ITS?!?!?! Remember those? They advertised constantly on Saturday morning TV when I was a kid. They’re HUGE over here during these night-time congregations), line-dancing, playing hackey-sack, fishing, martial arts, etc. It’s fun just to sit and watch. As with almost everywhere in this city it seems amazing that there are so many people in one place, and that they are all in the midst of doing so many different things. There’s a tangible buzz in the square at night. It’s a nice feeling.

Eating outside is a big part of summer, too. Curbside restaurants have popped up everywhere. At dusk, tables and stools appear out of nowhere. Suddenly, sidewalks are filled with outdoor cafes and diners. People flock to these impromptu restaurants to eat Chinese style barbecue (lamb kebabs, mostly) and boiled peanuts and drink beer. The center of town is full of places just like this (one of the best being a place we call “the pool,” which is basically a restaurant next to a local swimming hole, where you can eat tasty, cheap food and watch the old men of the neighborhood swim laps). It’s become a favorite past-time of mine to go with friends to Old Ji’nan, find one of these places, and eat next to the canal there. Summer favorite foods like cold noodles, barbecue, crayfish boils and cold plum juice have replaced the heavier, warmer foods of winter, and with an abundance of fresh peaches, melons, and cherries to be bought at fruit stands, it’s easy to get a taste of summer through local produce.

Soon, we’ll be giving final exams and wrapping up yet another semester here. Soon, I’ll have been here for a year. One year. Doesn’t seem like it could even be. And yet… time here has gone so fast. There’s plenty more adventure yet to come, though, some of it almost immediately. After this weekend, a few friends and I are heading out to coastal town of Qingdao for a day or two to relax and check out the beach. Should be a fun trip. Stay tuned for reports on that, and more, later.

So, the match is over. It’s early. VERY early. Naturally, Aston’s foreign staff got together to watch. How could we not? There was so much riding on it: bragging rights, national pride, 6 months worth of build-up. We viewed the match at a local BBQ place. It was a nice setting: outside seating, bigscreen TV, grilled meat and beer at the ready. A very nice place to watch the game. There’s something about watching a sporting event outside that feels pretty stellar. China is an excellent place to do this, as there are a great number of restaurants with outdoor seating (or which are based entirely outdoors to begin with). There are problems, however, with watching such a late game in a public place. The game began at 2:30AM, and it began to take it’s toll on the staff of the place. The owner (who had only the night before agreed to let us watch the entire match at his restaurant) seemed a little perturbed that we insisted on calling his bluff and staying until the match was over at just past 4:30AM. Despite agreeing to let us watch the match– and reaffirming his commitment several times throughout– continually tried to get us to leave (first at halftime, then with ten minutes remaining, then with five, etc.). In the end, it worked. We got to see the game, and everyone had a pretty good time.

As for the game itself? At the end of a 1-1 draw, we Americans looked pretty cocky, our British co-workers dispirited. My own thoughts are that I’m proud that the US held it’s own with the English squad that was supposed to crush us. I also think that such expectations were wildly unrealistic to begin with. The US is no longer an international punching bag. We haven’t been for a while. Those who were surprised that the US played tough seem not to have been paying much attention. Those who think that this result means that the US suddenly could make a deep run into this tournament may not have been paying attention either: we always thought we could get to the knockout rounds of the tournament. We’re not overachieving. I also refuse to dismiss the whole tie as a result of a fluke goal. There was more to this game than that. In any case, I’m proud of the effort, and hopeful that the team will soon get a chance to continue to impress.

More on summer in Ji’nan will come later. There’s a lot going on here. Hopefully, I’ll have more in a bit. Stay tuned…

Sometimes, living in a foreign country, one feels a bit disconnected from the rest of the world. This is especially the case when news media (print, radio, televised or otherwise) is delivered in a language you are still a relative beginner at– while my Chinese is, no doubt, much improved I still wouldn’t presume to understand lots of what I hear on the radio or see on TV. Similarly, the news reflects concerns of domestic importance. Any news of things that are important within the United States have to be gleaned from reading American papers online or watching rebroadcasts of US TV shows. In essence, it’s a little hard to keep up. Even in an age of instant communication and previously unthought of connectedness, it’s hard to get the exact slant on things which are happening in the US with any kind of accuracy or insightful perspective.

Truly international events, however, are a different story. Take, for instance, the FIFA World Cup. Despite not having a team in the field this year (China’s men’s team is notoriously bad; I have seen grown men spit on the ground and declare their matches unwatchable), China is totally obsessed with international football’s largest event. I am prone to think that events like this, because of the magnitude of their scale and the global nature of their context, are somewhat magical. Surely this is what those who make money off of this event want me to think. I agree that, in some senses, talking about the  pageantry and passion of the World Cup is hackneyed and trite. However, it’s hard not to feel that way given the way China has fascinated itself with this tournament.

The buildup for the event has been going on forever. As early as the start of May, we began to see signs of growing anticipation here in Ji’nan. Restaurants started working the cup into their advertisements. Pepsi issued an ad featuring the most notable players in the game (Didier Drogba, Lionel Messi, Frank Lampard, Fernando Torres) which was put on a HUGE billboard near Quancheng Square. Stores have begun to offer team gear (replica jerseys, t-shirts, polos, jackets, etc.; I intend to buy one of the (high quality) knockoff US jerseys that are being sold for very cheap at one of the soccer shops) and people in the streets have been wearing lots of soccer themed gear. McDonald’s– ever the barometer for important events– began to offer collectable World Cup glasses, “South African BBQ” flavored chicken wings, World Cup themed kids’ meal toys, and 24 hours of continuous cup coverage on the flatscreen TVs in every restaurant. From a commercial standpoint, this is a big deal in China.

From the cynical perspective, it would be easy to say that that’s really all this is to most Chinese people: a money-maker for people who can use the cup for advertising. Several of my roommate’s adult students have stated this opinion: this tournament is only really important to people who can use it to sell food, merchandise, or airtime. This seems, however, to undercut the sincerity with which people seem to follow the sport here. My roommate, Chris, recently purchased a replica jersey for the Spanish squad which has attracted lots of attention from people when worn in public. These folks know their stuff, and they are VERY enthusiastic about the tournament. Even though China does not have a stake in this year’s cup, they are all VERY excited to see the sport played on it’s highest level, and each interested person we meet seems to have one team or another which they are choosing to follow. Barbeque joints in the area are setting up bigscreen TVs and putting out tables outdoors to accomodate lots of viewers. Last night we watched the opening match of the cup between South Africa and Mexico at one of these local places, and the excitement there was palpable. There was a sizable crowd, all seated pretty close to the TV. They watched intently. They cheered for goals. The groaned for botched plays. They were absolutely into the match. To say that this event only really matters from a financial point of view just seems to completely miss the point. People here really do seem to care about this stuff. A lot.

Even my students at Aston seem to have caught cup fever. I made a point to casually mention that I would be watching matches during my classes this weekend. Many of the students (mostly the boys) went absolutely berserk when they heard, and started excitedly spouting off times for the start of matches, asking me who I would support (as if there was a doubt I’d be pulling for my home country), and talking about random teams, players, and pieces of trivia. Cup fever is hitting even in the schools.

Of course, the Aston staff has its own particular reasons to care so much about the tournament this year. Our blend of staff here is pretty unique: Native English speakers from many different countries work at Aston. Primarily though, Aston employs people from two places: the US and the UK. As you can imagine, the announcement of the group pairings caused quite a stir in January when it was revealed that the US and England would not only be in the same group together, but would be the first matchup either team would face in the tournament. There’s been a persistent stream of trash-talking that has gone on ever since. One of my British co-workers has dubbed the event “Independence Day 2,” and we’ve all been trying to make our boldest displays of national pride lately (as an aside, the Brits here have been so dismissive of the US squad that if we win tonight, I think I will become the most obnoxious and boastful winner in the history of sporting events). So tonight, at 2:3o in the morning, we’ll all meet up at shaokao (Chinese BBQ) restaurant that has graciously agreed to stay open late enough for us to watch the game, and the months of casual harassment will come to a head.  Should be a lot of fun. More to report later.

High Lonesome: Life persists in the midst of the Gobi Desert.

Deserts occupy a truly fascinating space in the human imagination. In the unforgiving, barren, and at times alien surroundings of a desert we find something of ourselves. Perhaps this is because in the sheer absence of other living thing, in the midst of sheer exposure to the elements, in the midst of such inhospitable conditions, we are truly able to strip away the distractions which prevent us from honestly considering who we are. It’s almost an archetype throughout human history: one goes into the desert to reflect and seek some sort of deeper reality. Consider the staggering list of people (fictional or otherwise) who have arrived at some point of self-actualization in the course of their itinerant wandering in the dunes: Moses, John the Baptist, Jesus, Mohammed, Zarathustra– the list is extensive. Why are we drawn to these places where life is so scarce? Prior to this past holiday trip, I had never really seen a desert in person. I can’t claim to have any extensive experience now. But, even the slightest exposure sheds light on the issue for me. Simply put, these places are incredible. The vastness, openness, emptiness: it’s all absolutely captivating. I will not pretend to understand the search for truth in the midst of the desert. I will, however, say that I think I can now understand it’s appeal.

One of the truly amazing things about taking the train from Ji’nan to Urumqi is watching the change of landscape. It’s not a subtle or gradual process. Rather, it is a jarring experience. The verdant countryside of East China doesn’t slowly give way to the sandy and expansive west. Or at least it doesn’t when you’re riding in an overnight train. Our first full day of riding the train took us through the familiar landscape of Eastern China: low fields, green with miscellaneous crops, and the occasional rolling hills in the distance. Pastoral, if it can be called that. By the time we were approaching the city of Zhengzhou in Henan Province at around sunset on the first day (roughly 1/4 of the way done) some signs of a change of landscape had slipped in: the soil was turning into the cakey, yellow loess that surrounds Xi’an, the gateway to China’s west. But, as dark fell, my surroundings still felt familiar.

First light the next morning revealed just how different our environs had become while we slept. No more trees. No more farmland. No more rolling hills. We awoke in the midst of a world full of rocky, parched ground and scrub grass. The gentle roll of the hills of East China had been replaced by vast flatness, except in the distance where low, sharp, rocky mountains rose. At the roughly halfway point of the journey, we had entered a completely different world.

The sight that greeted us after waking up on the train: The Gobi Desert.

Wide open space in the Hexi Corridor of Gansu Province.

"Desert Pastoral?": A herd of sheep grazing near the train tracks.

Yes, those are real (and possibly wild?) camels visible from the train window

As far as the eye can see, craters and rock. At times, it really felt like we might have been traveling across the surface of the moon.

Our new surrounding was none other than the legendary Gobi desert.  The change was beyond surprising. Any vestiges of familiarity had been removed from the landscape. It was clear that we were far, far away from home. Our exact location was in the middle of China’s Gansu province, in a place called the Hexi Corridor, a long stretch of open land between the Yellow River and the Tibetan Plateau which was formerly a crucial passage on the Silk Road. Basically, the Corridor is a huge basin dotted with many tiny oases which made it a passable route for traders to haul large quantities of goods from the west (Tibet, India, Persia, and even Greece) into the ancient Chinese capital at Xi’an. Wikipedia has a pretty great description of the landscape:

There are many fertile oases along the path. A strikingly inhospitable environment surrounds them: the vast expanse of the Gobi desert, the snow-capped Qilian Mountains to the south, the Beishan mountainous area, and the Alashan Plateau to the north.

Strikingly inhospitable is right. It’s very difficult to imagine this region sustaining any kind of life. Waking up to the craggy, rocky, barren expanse of the Gobi was a shock. It was also incredibly transfixing. I found myself staring endlessly out the window, soaking up every inch of the alien terrain. I’d never really been in a desert previously, and this was pretty amazing. As we progressed further west, the ground got even more sandy, the scrub grass gradually disappeared, and the mountains began to rise higher. Suddenly, we found ourselves in the midst of completely lifeless flat expanses ringed in by the enormous, towering mountains of the Qilian range (actually, at the time we had no idea what these mountains were called we just knew that they were HUGE). Mountains have always fascinated me (maybe it’s because I grew up near the Appalachian chain? Who knows?), and these peaks– part of the vast and towering network of mountains which form the Himalayas– proved no exception. Like most people in the face of stunning or magnificent natural landscapes, I could only gawk as the train continued to roll on.

As we got further west, the mountains became taller and snowcapped. These peaks are part of the Qilian range.

More snowcapped peaks in Western Gansu province.

Sunrise in the dunes: Morning near Urumqi

The western end of the Gobi: Asia's Painted Desert?

From that morning on, desert scenery was par for the course. This made for some pretty dramatic background scenery while riding the rails. To say the least, our travel periods were not boring. Often, in the midst of these vast expanses of nothingness, I was struck by just how isolated this part of the world is. Clusters of ranch-style houses would sporadically pop up along the landscape, and beside them shepherds tending to large flocks of sheep, or herds of cattle, yaks, or horses. How did these people get here? How did they find their way to this place in the middle of absolutely nowhere? Around the houses were the occasional low lying stone wall, closing in little squares of the desert, and marking them as belonging to one person or another. Passing them, I couldn’t help but wonder: What’s the point? Why put up fences all the way out here?

As we moved farther west, closer to the great spine of the Himalayas, the mountains grew taller and more magnificent. We took in the vistas provided by the Tarim Basin, the Tian Shan and Karakoram ranges. It was an amazing ride. Here’s a look at some of the best photos from the train:

The vies from the Tarim Basin near Kashgar.

In the Taklamakan Desert near Kashgar the desert became much more sandy.

These peaks are either part of the Tian Shan or Karakoram Chain that runs between Urumqi and Kashgar through the Tarim Basin. Either way, they're VERY tall.

So I’ll admit it, I’ve been a little lazy with this blog for a while. The root of my laziness is perhaps my own perception that I’ve not really done too much that’s noteworthy lately. This is a bit of a misperception on my part, perhaps. In any case… updates have been a little slow. Given some recent events, I feel like I owe everyone some sort of general status check.

By now, you’ve no doubt heard about the earthquake here. In the event that you perhaps haven’t, I’ll fill you in. About a week ago, there was a fairly huge earthquake out in Qinghai Province in what is Southwestern China. The epicenter of the quake was not far from Sichuan province, which was the center of the deadly quake of 2008. Here in eastern China, everyone is fine and somewhat removed from everything. Qinghai is a long way away from Ji’nan. While everyone I meet is no doubt touched by the scale of the tragedy, it is in a very distant sense. There have been numerous memorials, telecasts, fundraisers and gestures of solidarity for those who have fallen victim to the quake. However, aside from large, official displays of mourning (flags flown at half-mast are amongst the most prominent of these), life seems to continue to function as it always does here.

Most importantly to all of you reading this, I suppose, is that I’m OK. This now raises my “Earthquake in China” percentage to 2-for-2. It’s a strange thought to me: Must it be that every time that I come to China, the country suffers a devastating earthquake? (In fact, it feels almost like the realization of the leading man in Thomas Pynchon’s novel Gravity’s Rainbow who finds that there’s a direct link between places where he’s been and buildings which are blown up during air-raids in London during WWII). I hate to make it sounds like I’m making light of what is undoubtably a tragic event. But it seems like a very bizarre thing to me, especially given how close I was to the last earthquake and how strangely distant from me this one seems by comparison.

In every sense, life has continued to progress as it normally would.  The semester continues to progress. Classes continue to move forward. We’re rapidly approaching the mid-term for this semester (how can that be? We just started right?). Summer will be here before long, and it’s evident. The weather is getting much warmer, very quickly. Before long, I suspect that I will be sweating like crazy.

The activities that fill our time off are becoming more and more oriented towards being outdoors and enjoying this increase in temperature. Yesterday we played a game or two of American-style football at the University where we’ve played frisbee before. It was fun, considering I’ve not thrown a football or played a game of two hand touch in a VERY long time. The Chinese students, who gathered in pretty large numbers as spectators when we played frisbee, mostly found American style football baffling, I believe… or at least the confusion as to what was actually going on seemed to prevent any kind of crowd from gather to watch us play (which is what usually happens when we decide to play sports in public). Nonetheless, it felt good to be outside and active again.

We’re approaching the May holidays, and I have a pretty large-scale journey in front of me as I try to take full advantage of an 11 day vacation (see the post below for further details). Otherwise we continue to run along as normal here in Ji’nan, for which I’m quite thankful. I’ll continue with a few updates in the coming days, and will try to make some sort of huge update once I get back from my journey over the next few weeks. Keep tuned for more.

It’s almost vacation time again! That’s right, May 1st is International Labor Day, which is a national holiday over here. While the rest of the country is given three days off to celebrate, Aston employees fare a bit better. As we only have to teach on weekends, we’re given the weekend of Labor Day off. As we already have all of the weekdays surrounding that weekend free, we’re able to take what amounts to an 11 day vacation! So, what does one do with 11 free days in China. Travel, of course.

With 11 free days comes a great opportunity to really get out somewhere. It became very obvious for me (and a group of my friends) that we needed to have an adventure over the May holidays, because it provided us with a chance to get pretty far out there. Where will go on our adventure, you ask? West.

Ji'nan is near Qufu on the East of this Map. Kashgar and Urumqi are in the extreme northwest corner of the country.

Specifically, we’re going to Xinjiang, the largest province in China located in the extreme northwest. Our primary destinations are the cities of Urumqi and Kashgar, which you can see on the map above. In other words, we’re headed about as far west as you can go, and still stay in China. “What’s there,” you ask? Well… lots of things, including:

The Taklamakan Desert and the Karakoram Highway and remnants of the old Silk Road which Linked China to Central Asia and points further west.

Dunes in the Taklamakan Desert

Various branches of the Himalaya Mountains, which provide stunning backdrops for lakes and forests.

The Pamir Mountains, one of many branches of the Himalayas (others include the Altai, Tian Shan and Karakoram ranges) which rise into the region.

And… A totally unique cultural fusion. The legacy of the Silk Road has made this place a center of cultural interaction. Nowhere is this more evident than in the Old Town of the city of Kashgar (the place that movie makers chose to film the scenes for the film adaptation of Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner which were supposed tohave taken place in Kabul).

An alley in Kashgar's Old Town, which was used during the filming of "The Kite Runner."

The cultural influence of China, the Asian Steppe, and Central Asia collide here. The result is a place unlike many others. The influence of Persian culture has been obvious in this region, as has the presence of trade and interaction with the further Eastern parts of China. However, the predominant cultural lineage of the people in this area is Turkic, meaning that they share a close kinship with all the Turkic-speaking people of Asia (Kazakhs, Uzbeks, Tajiks, Kyrgyz, and yes even the modern day Turks in Istanbul). All in all it should be a fascinating trip both for epic landscape and vibrant culture.

I’ll admit, Xinjiang is a place that has captured my imagination for quite a while now. It’s not entirely unlike the allure of the American west: wide open, with epic landscapes and the feeling that you can only really get when you’re near the edge of something, out on a border. In the US this feeling comes, I think, from the vast expanse of largely unfilled space that makes up most of the distance between the Mississippi River and California. In China, it is undoubtably one’s proximity to a huge amount of strikingly different cultures that gives Xinjiang it’s feeling of adventure or vibrancy (for lack of a better word). In any case, it’s somewhere I’ve wanted to go for a long time. Not surprisingly then, when the option of going there was discussed with friends, we jumped at the opportunity.

This will end up being a journey of fairly epic proportions (and the word “epic” is perhaps overused and hyperbolic in many senses, but I can think of no other adequate way to describe the process of getting to west China from it’s eastern end). Imagine a road trip from Philadelphia to Seattle. Imagine taking that trip entirely by train. Imagine going there and back in roughly 11 days. I’m not sure I’m wholly prepared for it, but I know this… in the end, I think it will have been entirely worth it.

As plans progress I’ll be sure to keep you posted. Stay tuned for more.

A little over a week ago, I climbed Ji’nan’s “Hero Mountain” on a particularly warm and sunny spring afternoon. Hero Mountain is an important historical and cultural spot for the city of Ji’nan. Essentially, it’s the site where a major battle (either of the 1912 Revolution or in the Sino-Japanese War, or possibly both) occurred. The men that died there have posthumously been declared martyrs for China’s freedom, and thus the hill, which serves as their final resting place, is a monument to that idea. It’s dotted with little cemeteries and memorials and is a very important part of the city of Ji’nan from a symbolic point of view: it’s Ji’nan’s legacy in the struggle for modern China.

Aside from all of these things, it’s also a pleasant place to go for a hike. As my friends and I climbed the mountain (which isn’t really that strenuous of an activity; it only takes about 20 minutes to get to the top and another 20 to 30 to hike around the top to all of the little shrines and overlooks) we took in some really great view of the skyline of our fair city. Plopped down right on the southern edge of the city, the mountain provides some pretty stunning views of downtown and greater Ji’nan. As we sat and rested at one of the mountain’s overlook points, we were able to see our apartments, our schools, the city’s stadiums and major highways, and way off in the distance, the bridge that passes over the rail-yard near our home.  It was a very cool sight. Some views are impossible to capture using a camera… unless you happen to have an excellent panoramic-shot feature. Luckily for me, my friend Dave does, and allowed me to shoot some pictures with it. Also, he was kind enough to share them, and one that he took, with me. They’re really too cool to not share with you guys too.

So, here’s the view from Hero Mountain:

Cherry blossoms overlook the city of Ji'nan from the top of Hero Mountain.

As seen from Hero Mountain: Ji'nan's City Skyline.