Last Day on the Earth's Biggest Sidewalk

I spent my last day in China walking along the Great Wall. It really felt fitting: ancient, touristy, uneven, and littered.

At the suggestion of one of Josh's colleagues, an American who lived as an ex-pat in Beijing for four years, we hired a driver who, a few years ago, had taken her to a specific entrance at the "wild" part. There is one relatively short section of wall that has gondolas, buses, merchants, and crowds. We hoped to avoid that. So, Sunday morning, Jaiyin (a different colleague), Cyril (another colleague), and the driver picked us up in front of the apartment. We drove for about an hour and a half north (I think) of Beijing. The roads became narrower and the scenery more mountainous.

The driver and Jaiyin chatted in the car. We stopped at a homemade toll that some villagers had installed to collect money from tourists accessing this part. We paid twenty yuan each, got back in the car, and drove pretty much into someone's driveway. The driver explained to Jaiyin that he would meet us at the base of the developed part of the wall, and it would take us four to five hours to get there.

Jaiyin was very nervous that we wouldn't make it that far (she's not much of a hiker), so she kept checking in with the driver throughout our adventure. Somehow, China has cell reception everywhere.

We climbed up a steep trail outside of the village for a little over a half an hour. When we emerged from the trees, we could see watchtowers at peaks all over.

We arrived at a watchtower where a woman was waiting by a ladder. She charged us five yuan each to climb it.

Cyril, Jaiyin, and Josh at the first watchtower of our journey.

Jaiyin insisted we trade places:

Cyril, Kelly, and Josh at the first watch tower. 

The Air Quality Index was in the eighties in Beijing, and we hoped it would clear up outside of the city. But, it was still a little hazy, which was disappointing. I bet you could see much farther on a clear day. The wall, of course, extended in two directions. We had to ask the ladder guard lady which way to go. Here is a picture of the way we could not go. You can't see it that well in this picture, but the wall extends on the ridges for quite a ways: 

We set out in (hopefully) the right direction.

Looking back at the first watchtower. 

The "wild" part of the wall has not been maintained. Bricks have fallen, trees and bushes grow all through it. Cyril told us that in some parts, villagers over the years had taken some of the bricks for their own projects. He and Jaiyin also estimated (none of us had done proper research) that the wall had been built in the 800s CE, so we were crawling around on 1200 year old stones. (And the bricks were carved stones, which is really impossible to imagine how they 1. carved all the stones, 2. carried them up there, and 3. lined them up on scary ridges.)

Nature taking over. 

We came upon many more watchtowers in varying states of crumbling. Some we walked around, some we climbed over, and some we crawled through. They had small archways, fireplaces, and different rooms.

Jaiyin and Kelly

The wall very dutifully follows ridge lines to better keep an eye on barbarian hordes. There were gaps in the wall for looking out, shooting arrows. Cyril, Josh, and I spent quite a bit of time hypothesizing and demonstrating various defense positions: crouch with arrow? lie down with arrow? aim and then duck? etc.

Because the wall follows the mountains, which are pointy, like a bunch of Ms littered all over, much of our hike was on very steep grades. This was an uphill where Jaiyin was probably wanting to call the driver:

And I'm all like, teehee.

Jaiyin did keep me laughing by exclaiming things like, "This is a miracle!" and "We are amazing!" (us for hiking the wall or the Chinese for building it?).

I don't know what to do with my hands?

Ancient Mongol cell tower in the background.

This descent was no joke at least at a forty-five degree angle. Looking back at it later, Cyril thought some parts were closer to sixty (he went to MIT; I trust his estimations). The left side (of the picture below) was, of course, slippery marble-like slabs, and the right side was packed dirt and bushes. I hung right and held on to the wall for balance. There was sliding, rocks coming lose, and a couple of falls.

Safety first.

We hiked for a few hours. Jaiyin called the driver to tell him we would meet him at the touristy part. We were sweaty and hungry. There was garbage in the watchtowers though we saw only one other small group in our section. I, of course, went on a litter-tirade, and Cyril, who is Malaysian/Canadian/American, told me that twenty years ago, Beijing and the other cities were dirtier and more chaotic. He said he remembers the rivers in Malaysia flowing with garbage. I had it easy, apparently. 

The touristy part has been reconstructed, so the path is relatively smooth, there are staircases, sometimes handrails, and vendors selling "I have come to the Great Wall" tshirts. 

A particularly steep staircase. Kelly-sized feet have to go totally sideways on these.

We went down and up countless, countless stairs. I kept telling Jaiyin it would be good for our butts. We finally found our way to some shuttle buses that took us to the parking lot where the driver was waiting. He dropped us at a restaurant, and Jaiyin ordered too much food (the rest of us couldn't read the menu). But we ate it happily. The iPhone pedometer read nine miles (again), so I didn't feel too bad about some gorging (though I avoided the pork belly).  

After a shower and a nap, Josh and I met up with Cyril for dinner. We wandered through the streets where Cyril showed us his favorite bookstore and restaurants. We came to a brick courtyard with patio seating, lights, and trees. We each ordered different kinds of noodles with mushrooms, and the dishes came in giant bowls filled with broth. It got dark, and I filled up on real Chinese food for the last time. 

The walk home felt so easy. It was not up a forty-five degree angled, thousand year old mountain wall. It was filled with countless people, honking scooters, veering cars, panhandlers, more people, puddles, and garbage--a city like any other big city, but one that was still, for me, incredibly alien and impenetrable. But, finally, after a week in one place, we knew how to get back to the apartment and how to cross the street without dying. I felt absolutely ready to come home. 

Observer of Things, Part 2

• Waiters Waiting
• We met the weirdest waiter who loitered around the table and kept trying to like bat his eyes at me and say things in Chinese. He tried a few things in English, repeated pretty much everything we said in a creepy robotic way, and told us his name was Rick. 
• Toilets
• I read an article on a plane about squat toilets vs. Western toilets. Scroll down for a nice illustration. There's also some facts about tradition and cleanliness.
• More Packaging Tape

On a tree

• Double Whammy:

Slippery marble hallway lined with plastic sheet that slides around. Mostly secured by packaging tape. 

• Park Anywhere
• Last night, Josh's colleague said there aren't stop signs in Beijing. We found one with a pretty typical parking job. This one you can actually walk around. 

Cars parked on sidewalk and car driving down sidewalk.
I tried to take a backwards photo while walking so no one would honk at me.

• Tree Trimming
• happens all over so you better be careful. These trees seemed to interfere with the extraordinarily low hanging electrical wires. Photo taken from back of taxi. 

• Litter
• There is litter pretty much everywhere, and I don't understand. Even in a protected wilderness area on the Tibetan border, in the streets, subway, bathrooms. There are garbage cans and recycling bins. I can't wrap my head around it. 
• Westerners Not Saying Hello
• I'm not looking for a kiss hello or a friendly introduction, just a nod and I smile like, "You are in a weird place, I am in a weird place, let's acknowledge this together."
• Umbrellas
• Everyone, especially women, carries umbrellas. Everywhere. When it's not raining. 
• I was told by one of Josh's colleagues that in China, the paler a woman is, the more beautiful. So they shield themselves from the sun with umbrellas, puffy arm warmers, and
• Tights
• Lots of skin colored tights which makes girls' legs look like creepy cyborg legs. 
• Tree Pits
• Most sidewalks are lined with trees, which are nice, but they are planted in these deep hell pits. I don't know how everyone doesn't have sprained ankles what with all the high heels and swerving. 
• Cool Toys? Knickknacks? 



Sleeping cats and dogs made of what must be hair. 

• Can't Make That Cocktail
• We will have bar menus with American/European cocktails on them, then, when someone orders one of them, we will shake our heads and say we don't know how to make it. 
• A Manhattan in Shangri-La contained a dangerous amount of absinthe.
• Matching Outfits
• Couples, parents and children, friends. 

Matching shoes and capris accompanied by a sidewalk death trap, the tree pit.
Also, cars parked on sidewalk and mystery water. So much happening in this one.

Mother-daughter. 

Colorblock couple with fringed purple umbrella. 

• Pollution vs. Rain
• When it rains, the rain "knocks down" the pollution, which makes the sky clear. 
• Pollution is a thing that can be knocked down.
• Where does the pollution go? Probably onto the sidewalk. 
• I feel like my entire experience in China has been about sidewalks. 
• I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
• Because he has fancy China tea cup water dishes. 
• He is also terrifying.

• Art

Portraits of Obama, Putin, Xi stand proudly over some fantasy painting of woman on round thing at sea, old man on sea staircase.
(Photo was hard to get as the gallery employee was hovering.)

I'll leave you with this nightmare.

Cooking Classes

We took two Chinese cooking classes! Oh my! 

When traveling, I found a class in Dali in our guidebook, and we started getting really excited. The class included a tour of the market and shopping for good ingredients, even a restaurant visit. I signed up and... the lady was out of town. So we couldn't do it.

But, the idea was to good to pass up, so upon our return to Beijing, we did some internet research and found a few options. It was hard to decide, but we settled on two: Sichuan and dumplings. 

Sichuan

We took the Sichuan class Wednesday evening. The class was located in a hutong not far from where we first stayed. We stopped by our old place to visit with Qun then walked to the class. This place, called The Hutong Kitchen, offers multiple cooking classes every day. They had a rooftop patio, classrooms, tshirts... it was the real deal. We sat at a big table with a lady from India, a foursome from France, a couple from Finland, and a pair of Canadian teachers working in China. Our teacher, Miya, was Chinese, and she has mastered the finest sarcasm in English. 

We visited Sichuan when we went to Chengdu (pandas). Sichuan cooking is known for its spiciness, and the most famous dishes (which I feel like I've had a dozen times already) are mapo doufu and gongpao chicken. Josh and I tried to make mapo doufo once, and failed. Miya, I hope, set us on the right path. 

I could not look like more of a dork stirring this tofu sauce. 

We also made a stir fried cabbage that was excellent. None of the food was too spicy, fortunately for me and the French woman behind me. She was very worried the food would be too spicy, and she cringed every time Miya threw in another handful of Sichuan peppercorns (numbing peppers). We all ate way too much food (again) and took turns at the woks. We took a bunch of notes, so hopefully we can recreate the dishes back in Boulder. I also got to use a giant cleaver, like the kind in cartoons. 

Dumplings

This morning (Friday), Josh skipped out on work so we could take a dumpling class. Josh is obsessed with a special soup dumping called xiao long bao which we also failed at making for a group of hungry friends. We had very delicious xiao long bao at a restaurant, and he took pictures of me eating it "properly," so I will let him post about that. Josh is right to be a fan. 

This dumpling class focused more on Beijing or Northern China style dumplings, and it also took place in a hutong. Our instructor was Chao, and his wife scurried around washing dishes. The classroom was in part of his house, and he had a big dining area and an outdoor patio. 

Chao broke us into teams. Josh, a woman from Shanghai, and a woman from Indonesia made boiled pork dumplings. A woman from Germany and I made steamed vegetarian dumplings, and a couple from England made pan-fried beef dumplings. Chao also whipped up some cucumber salad while we were working. 

Making dumplings is hard. We didn't get any pictures of the process because we were covered in flour, filling, and Chao kept correcting our technique. There is a very careful way of rolling out the dough and folding in the filling, and he did it with such speed and perfection. We also again used giant cleavers, and I am the world's slowest cleaver chopper. No one was injured. 

Chao was very good at explaining why you stir the filling a certain way or why the dough has to be rolled just so, changing the temperature of the water, etc. Unfortunately, the print outs from both lessons failed to include this information (as well as some of the cooking techniques), so I really hope my brain decides to be cooperative and hold this stuff in there.

Now, I feel like we can probably fairly (at least) successfully make some dumplings at home. But, I promise to practice on myself first before sharing with guests. Unless someone wants to come help me next week.

Sad Blog

I have a few more days here before I return to the U.S. Josh has been working, and I have spent this week trying to read, write, and research as much as possible, looking out at the buildings from our 6th floor window. 

But, yesterday, I got in a depressing internet research spiral which will make this post not funny or observational. 

First of all, there are a lot of depressing things about China. The weird smells, mystery puddles, and litter are funny when you imagine me trying to leap over them, but they're also sad. Josh has to keep reminding me that it is a developing country, and the population is unfathomable. We have been reading English-language magazines here, such as The World of Chinese, that frequently feature articles on development and Westernization. I shared some of the problems in the Pollution & Population post. The following is directly related to urban development and population: 

***

I forget where I read this information first: in a newspaper on a plane, on Twitter--I can't remember. But I came across the story of four children in rural China committing suicide. They were the children of migrant parents who had left to work in the city. They left the siblings, ages five to fourteen, alone for almost a year. They called, sometimes visited, and sent money. The children drank pesticide. 

These children are, I learned, but a tiny handful of some 60 million "left behind children" of rural China. Children whose parents (one or both) moved for work and left the children with grandparents, neighbors, or to fend for themselves. 60 million is about one-fifth of the population of all the children of China and about one-fifth of the entire population of the U.S. 

One article cited that 70% of children in rural China suffer from anxiety and/or depression and most do not graduate ninth grade. 

Why are they abandoned? Many of the jobs rural Chinese people seek and can find (that pay more than traditional farming) are in factories which provide employee housing. The housing does not allow for children. Also, the hours are incomprehensible. Or, if they find another kind of job in a big city, there are residential rules that do not allow for children to be moved from one area to another. They can't register for school without proper documentation, so the parents leave them at home. Then, even worse, hundreds of rural schools are being closed, so some children walk an hour or more to and from school. 

I kept reading and reading, sucked into a web of repeated information. All of the articles seemed to say the same thing, citing the same sources. I tried to find organizations that support children in this situation (it seems to be getting a lot of media attention), and found only one based out of Atlanta that gives pretty much zero information on what they do, nor can you earmark donations for that cause specifically. Josh said that it is difficult for non-government organizations (NGOs) to work or even exist in China, especially foreign philanthropic ones. After the most recent suicide, a government official is quoted as saying something like this "should not happen again." 

That's really all I could find. 

I am using an internet VPN which puts my IP address as Los Angeles, so I am/should be able to access anything on the internet, so I don't think blocked sites are the problem. 

The whole thing makes me feel anxious all over, and also helpless, and a little obsessive. I wish I could easily toss some money somewhere, though I don't know how helpful that is, really. 

Even though it is depressing and awful, I do recommend looking through these articles, especially the pictures. Students: I think it will be especially informative and eye-opening for you to look through this as well. 

References:

• 'Left-Behind' Children Need Our Attention Now, Caixin, July 2015 -- One of the most recent pieces I've found. Offers a succinct explanation and call to action. 
• Left-Behind Children of China's Migrant Workers Bear Grown-Up Burdens, Wall Street Journal, Jan. 2014 -- This one has photos that focus on one family as well as statistical details in the article itself. 
• China orders inquiry into deaths of children who swallowed pesticide, The Guardian, June 2015 -- Shares the most recent death case as well as photos of the house where the children lived. 
• Adult Supervision Required, Slate, May 2015 -- A short, readable article. 
• China's Left Behind, World Policy Institute, Summer 2013 -- A long history with a story from a documentary. Also includes examples of income and cost of living in different areas. 
• The village and the girl, BBC News, June 2015 -- A beautiful photo essay including a ten year report on a woman and her family as her village turned into a city. 
• Global Health Action -- The only nonprofit I could find with activity directly for this problem.