Underrated Hunan

Last Monday afternoon I left for a week long trip with CIEE to Hunan (western China). Without question, it was by far my favorite traveling experience in China. Hunan is southwest of Shanghai and has a landscape unlike anything I have ever seen. I was orignally hoping that we would go just a bit farther west to Sichuan, because it is famous for it terraced mountains, spicy food, and minorities (I've heard some say that real Tibetans really live there). Unfortunately or fortunately, Sichuan was too far away so we boarded a plane for Zhangjiajie, Hunan. （张家界 湖南）
We left for Hunan on Monday afternoon, and finally arrived at our hostel in Zhangjiajie city proper at about midnight. Approximately 60-70% of Chinese domestic flights leave and arrive on time. Because we wanted to travel away from Shanghai, we spent a bulk of the travel budget on plane tickets. Thus, we stayed in less than five star accommodations. The first hostel was great, it had hot water with adequate water pressure, but there were no mattresses on the beds.

Day Two
After waking up I went on a breakfast adventure. Our hostel, despite being in the middle of the city, lacked ordinary breakfast options. In Shanghai, if you were to walk outside at seven o clock in the morning you would find a host of various morning meal options, from sealed soup in a glass, to steam buns to sandwiches and croissants or Taiwan pancake or you tiao or sesame ball to noodle soup. In Zhangjiajie, there was nothing. Finally, at seven fifteen, one steam bun stand opened. During the breakfast quest I also learned that in rural and particularly western China, people rarely except coins. They have no faith in anything but paper money. I find this especially curious, because the paper small change is nothing but tiny bits of pulp, but the coins have weight, and thus, to me, a more tangible value as money. So you no someone has come from the city because they have change jostling around their pockets.
Next, we took a bus to our real destination, 张家界公园 Zhangjiajie National Park. Something rather wonderful about traveling in Hunan that I discovered, was people's enthusiasm and eagerness to help us out. In Shanghai, there is sort of a similar phenomenon, in that if you ask someone directions, they will provide some even if they themselves don't know (often times they guess wrong). In Hunan, everyone was ready to stand and wait for a bus with us, or in the case of our hostel boss in FengHuang, call the bus driver and tell him to look out for the six foriengers and the Canton girl.
After arriving in the small town outside the park, we checked into our new accommodations, which was more of a wonderful hotel than a hostel and evidently extremely cheap. There were normal beds (not bunks) with mattresses, a TV, lights, and a bathroom inside the room! (But it was squatty) Our hostel boss was one of the most wonderful people I have met thus far. She held our hands our entire trip. She knew everyone in town, and would call them before we went somewhere to alert them to our presence. She had every bus driver's route and cell number memorized (which is sort of amazing, because there are no set bus routes in Zhangjiaie) and would wait for the bus outside. She told us where to eat, called the restaurants about what we should order. I called her Hostel Mama.
Hostel Mama exemplified the attitude that I got from all of the residents of Zhangjiajie. Everyone seemed very relaxed and happy to be alive, a complete opposite to what I am used to in Shanghai. Everyone on the buses knew eachother, and would chat on their communtes to work. In Shanghai, no one even yields a smile. The police don't all have police cars, so when they boarded the bus they brought heavy wooden chairs to assert their authority, but still engaged in small talk with the rest of the community. I think that the Zhangjiajie personality is only helped by how cute and tiny the people are. About 90%+ (I think) of the population of ZJJ is Miao zu, one of China's 56 officially recognized and largest minority groups. The Miao zu look just like the Han, but speak Miao yu and are very small. My knees don't fit under there tables. I was considering getting a foot massage after two long days of hiking, and kind of wish that I would have, just to see the reaction to the size of my feet.

Going out for Pizza, Chinese style

So this is my first attempt at living in the world of mega technology and super connectivity: I am blogging from my seat in a bus from Hangzhou to Shanghai using my iTouch as a scribe.  If it works then I won't be able to believe that I hadn't thought of this before, of not them I can't believe that I am wasting so much time increasing my risk of carpal tunnel syndrome.
Last weekend was a three day weekend for celebrating Qing Ming Jie or Tomb Sweeping Holiday (though that is a terrible translation).  The celebration of this holiday includes eating Qing tuan (as previously blogged), visiting the family gravesite, and, like all Chinese holidays, feasting with the fam.  My host dad came back from Taibei for a visit as well.
On Saturday,religious families rent buses to the massive cemeteries outside of the city proper.  On of the Gappers went and based off of his experience, I don't think I'll ever be inclined to participate.  Because the traffic was so bad, he ended up with a minor case of carbon monoxide poisoning, because his extended family smokes and insisted upon keeping windows open despite being trapped in a lung death field for five hours. He said matters only got worse when they finally reached to burial site due to the copious amounts of burning incense.

My family and I rested on Saturday and I went with Andy to school.
On Sunday, we met up with my host uncle's family at the kids' favorite all time restaurant: Papa Johns.  Can I first just say that watching the Chinese eat using a fork is probably on of the most simoutaneously intriguing and hilarious experiences to be had. I can only imagine what the Chinese think when watching Westerners fumble with chopsticks.  Also, the food served at Papa Johns is unlike anything that I would expect at a typical American pizza joint.  (Though, I have never eaten Papa Johns in the States, so I am no authority on the matter).  Most of what we eat is Chinese chicken wings, ribs, boney bits of pork.  Also, cheese tiao (cheese sticks) are extremely popular among my family dipped into a Velveta like cheese sauce.  They like pasta, but the actual pizza itself, is not very popular at all.  I find it very strange, because almost everything that my family likes to eat at Papa Johns could be eaten at home.  

Anyway, the interesting part of the Papa Johns story occured at almost the tail end, when my host dad paid.  He gave the waitress three one hundred yuan notes, all which he had just exchanged at the airport from when he came into Shanghai.  Additionally, all of the bills where very old, and crinkly at the edges.  About ten minutes later, the waitress came back with three one hundred yuan notes, all of which were very crisp with pristine edges.  She prompty informed my host dad that the money was fake.  At this, my host uncle became outraged, jumping out of his seat, disturbing the almost untouched pizza, and yelling in grumbly intense Shanghainese at the waitress.  Suddenly everyone was out of their chairs, dancing around the three red bits of paper.  The restaurant was evacuated, the doors closed so that Papa Johns wouldn't loose face.  Then the police were called.  
At this point, my mother decided that the bulk of the argument's valuable points had already been exhausted, and that we should go shopping.  So we strolled around the mall's underground market for about two hours.  When we returned, the police were still inside the resturant, seated around our uneaten food, appearing as if they could be enjoying a meal with my host family and the Papa Johns staff.  Ultimately, our lunch was free, and all parties, including myself, shook hands.  However, when my fire spirted host uncle shook hands amicably with the Papa Johns manager, he smiled at him, but the instant that their hands fell apart, he raised his index finger and continued to scold him.

On Monday, I went to my first cooking class.  I signed up for a series of cooking classes in Shanghai's "New Kitchen," which is located in an alley near the French Concession, the poshest place in Puxi.  It shares a building with several avant garde makeups studios (??) as well as a few art galleries.  The class included myself, two of my friends, and a Japanese couple working in Shanghai.  We learned how to make golden fish, insect, and flower shaped dumplings.  They are beautiful and delicious!!! I can't wait to make them at home, because folding them is relatively simple, but they appear to be extremely intricate and complex.After cooking class, I rushed over to Shanghai Song World to meet with my host family for karaoke.  There are no words to express how adorable my host brothers are when they stand a top tables and belt out the theme song from the Beijing Olympics.  This is a link (which might be a bit slow because it is a Chinese host site but worth the wait) to my smallest host brother's (and my) karaoke favorite.  http://v.youku.com/v_show/id_XMzAxNTk3NTI=.html

Someone just ran across this on the internet...

Its from awhile ago, but nevertheless interesting. 

Also, the first picture of us is on a billboard.

http://www.go2chinatown.com/

青团

The title of this blog refers to "qing tuan," the yuckiest thing that I have been asked to eat thus far in China.  They are small vivid green glutinous balls made of vegetable paste fill with 豆沙 (red bean paste, which I happen to love.  Qing tuan are a crime against red bean paste, in my opinion.  Unfortunately, right now, qing tuan are everywhere.  For some reason, they are the main food of the current festival, Family Holiday.  Every morning my host grandma gives me a few to bring to school for a snack, and everyday I try to refuse, saying I don't really like them.  Finally, this morning, she responds by saying, "Oh, I hate them, too.  Most people do," giving me the I Know This Is Ridiculous But This Is China face.  So I bring them to school and hide them in people's bags.

In other news, YouTube is now officially inaccessible from China.  

And now, two horror stories courtesy of some other Gappers.

1.  One of the Gappers has a penchant for purchasing.  This past weekend in Nanjing, this included a stolen iPhone.  He bumped into a Turkish criminal who whispered, "Hey, do you want an iPhone?" Only thinking of the great price he would get because it was stolen, he of course said yes.   Evidently the pair snuck into an alley and exchanged one nightlight disguised as an iPhone for 500 kuai (about $80).  The Turkish man allegedly made a call with a real iPhone and allowed my friend to sample it for a few moments, but in the blink of an eye switched the two.  The iFauxne is a iPhone shaped backlight with a semitransparent image of the iPhone homescreen.  Bummer.

2. Another Gapper was walking down Shanghai's busiest shopping street on a Saturday afternoon when all of the sudden, someone pulled her bag out of her hands before she could react.  Luckily, a crowded street of Chinese wanted to help, and called the police, attempted to track down the thief, etc, etc.  She was lucky though, because she didn't have anything valuable in her bag, only 100 kuai ($15), and some American money.  Well, she did have her credit cards, but those were easy to cancel.  Also in her bag were about 50 business cards from various people from her seven months in China.  She went to the police station, filed a report, changed to locks to her house, and accepted that she would never she her stuff again.  Nevertheless, the police still called her several times a day because they were determined to save face with the foriegner.  About a week and a half later, she got an email from someone she met during her first days here.  He was contacted by a restaurant that had found her purse in the bathroom.  Inside was her credit cards, all the money, everything except her cell phone.  However, the thief was careful enough to take her SIM card out of her phone and put it in a bag in her wallet so she could easily find it.  Honestly, I am sort of surprised he didn't right her an apology letter.  The Shanghai police, meanwhile, are proud to say the solved the case.