I have been lazy about figuring out what to do should I have a medical emergency, need a checkup, or whatever. There have been too many other things to worry about. Until, last weekend when my toes mysteriously starting itching! A thought nothing of it at first, of course, but the itching worsened. It then appeared like I had blisters between my toes. I also noticed that the skin had cracked, though my skin wasn’t hard or parched at all. Mysterious. Still, I didn’t worry too much until Tuesday when, at work, my left foot suddenly started swelling like crazy. I was unable to put my shoe back on after removing it to see what was going on. The swelling was rapid and I said to myself, “OK, if that vein there vanishes because of the swelling, I’ll go to the doctor.”

It was gone within the hour! So, I had sent some emails to my expat colleagues requesting doctor referrals in Hong Kong. Bill was the only one who responded in time and he suggested I go to Peking University Hospital, or “Beijing Da Xue Yi Yuan”! I had heard horror stories of Chinese hospitals (recommended heart bypass surgery for something unrelated, fake medicine…) but I was hoping that the VIP area he told me about was indeed reliable. After all, how complicated are itchy and swollen feet?

(above) Peking University Hospital

Bill had given me basic instructions on what to do. On arriving at the sixth floor though, there were no reception desks open and it appeared everyone was waiting for the staff to return (this was around 2:15pm). I ended up sitting next to a nice Chinese man who spoke excellent English from living in Australia for ten years. He is now the CEO of a TV and video media web search company. We talked about learning Chinese for a while and then exchanged business cards with the promise to meet up later. At 2:30, the doors opened and we waited in line for the receptionist. Actually, I’m surprised at how fast it was. This was the VIP area which was more expensive, but basically more reputable. When I showed my passport, they actually pulled one of my colleagues records and asked if this was me! What a coincidence. When I told them it wasn’t and that I had never been here before, they took my insurance card and gave me a new hospital ID card. Between the nurses English and my Chinese, we were able to figure out a doctor to go see, so I hobbled along following the nurse. They curiously offered me no wheelchair or even crutches. The first doctor didn’t speak a word of English. When he saw the funny skin on my toes, he exclaimed a loud, “Oh ooooh!!!” And so they figured out the proper doctor to send me to. This doctor, a woman, spoke a good bit of English, though not great. Her examination of me was about oh…five or six…seconds and then she told me I had a fungal problem augmented by a bacterial infection (by the break in the skin, I assume). She prescribed me some cream, some pills, and some “injections”.

(above) My messed up feet – especially the left one which looks like one of those giant “Hobbit Feet” shoes the actors wore in Lord of the Rings.

But, these were not shots, these were IVs! “Dang, IVs! How serious is this?”, I thought. It turns out the IVs are standard operating procedure for China. I was told not to be alarmed. Also, I guess it wasn’t so serious after talking with the doctor and other people who say this is quite common in dirty China. My driver told me he had the same thing too. How did this happen to me, I wondered? My guess is that my bathroom wasn’t as clean as I thought (despite my maid’s cleaning…I’ve bought bleach now), which caused the fungus. Maybe that’s also how the broken skin allowed whatever bacteria in. Many people have conjectured that it was the foot massages. Maybe, but I haven’t had a foot massage in about 3 weeks. Hmm, now that I think about it, maybe I picked up the fungus somewhere in the Yunnan province. Needless to say, I will use my flip flops whenever I take a shower.

(Above) Different days, different IV sessions.

I needed to come in the following three mornings for three IVs. Each time, I followed the nurse, who was effecient in her job, past the psychology counseling room, which was always open with someone sitting on the “the sofa” right next to door. Uh, shouldn’t the door be closed?

On the third day, Bill happened to notice the my driver was waiting outside and gave me a call.

“Where are you at?”
“I’m at the hospital, up on the 6th floor!”
“Cool, me too! We’ll come find you!”

So, Bill and his wife, Tian Tian, came and chatted with me for the last five minutes of the IV. Bill then told me that my doctor was a good friend of Tian Tian’s! “Great!”, I said. That’s gotta be somewhat of it’s own insurance policy. When the doctor saw Tian Tian and I in the office, she opened up and was very attentive. Though she prescribed me three move IV sessions because I wasn’t improving fast enough. She also gave me some liquid wash. While I tried to make sense of some of the English and Chinese, it was common for other folks to barge right in and start talking to the doctor. This wasn’t only limited to nurses, but other patients and even friends.

I came in the next day, Friday, and asked about coming in on the weekend. They told me that it wouldn’t be a problem, that there was someone available to give me the IV. Well, there wasn’t. The 6th floor was desolate save two nurses who appeared to be doing administrative work. They both told me that I needed to come back on Monday. I figured I’d just blow off the remaining two IVs if my feet got much better, which they did. I went back on Monday for the final appointment and the doctor examined my feet in a record one second this time (the sock was barely off my foot!): “Oh, much better! More medicine? More cream?” “No thanks. How about some more of that wash? I’m almost out.” Somewhere around here, a boisterous Chines woman walked in and started yukking it up with the doctor. She thought it was interesting that I spoke a decent amount of simple Chinese, but…why is she in here? Anyway, the doctor prescribed that and now I’m almost recovered.

Peter has a great blog post on his impressions of the Peking University Hospital. Well worth the read!

The end of the vacation ended quietly. Because we were unable to get to Meili Xue Shan, we could afford to be more relaxed for the second half of the trip. I woke up early and went out and had a great breakfast, bit the bullet and bought some gifts for various folks. I was successful, for the most part, at least I was proud of the success I was having. I bought a shirt at one place and I thought that I got a reasonable deal by negotiating a shirt down 10% or so to 75 RMB, or 10 bucks – certainly, a very nice shirt for that price. But later, I was walking by another store and the jovial shopkeeper stopped me:

“Hello” (in traditional Chinese English accent)
“Hello (English)…Good morning! (Chinese)
“I have the best clothes…so cheap!”
“Really? How much?” (laughter from the observers)
“Come in and have a look!”
<I see a similar shirt>
“How much is this?”
“Oh, I don’t know. What do you think?”
“Uh, 20?”
“OK! You want it! I’ll wrap it up!”
“Ssssure…20? Really? OK!”

Did I get ripped off again? I just love the psychology of “the deal”. I’m totally happy with the shirt at ten bucks. So, I’ll just view the three dollar one as icing on the cake.

Shots of the streets and canals of LiJiang.

Views of LiJiang rooftops from a hill in the middle of town.

Quality signage. The second is a list of various teas at a Sichuan restaurant.

We ended the evening with a barbeque. It sure tasted good (at the time) and included chicken, mutton, beef, sausage, toufu (not considered a vegetarian’s meat in China). We woke up at 6am the next day with enough time to catch a “shuttle” to the airport for the flight back to Shenzhen. I had woken up an hour earlier not feeling so good. I knew it was that damn barbeque and I hoped that I’d be able to make it back to Shenzhen without much incident. Li Zhen (James) and I, along with a couple traveling back to Beijing, waited out in the cold, empty, cobblestoned street in the area designated to accomodate a little van for our shuttle. When it finally arrived, I hopped into the front seat, had a quick look at the driver, a shabby unkempt fellow…and then smelled the guy. Ugh! He was one of the worst smelling people I’ve ever smelled in my life. I didn’t know if I’d be able to endure the ride to the airport. I dropped the window down about an inch and kept my nose very close to avoid that reek that could wake the dead. Later in the airport, we talked about how bad that guy smelled and I learned that some of the minorities here only bath a couple of times every year, as part of their custom. I certainly don’t doubt that frequentcy.

I didn’t feel any better waiting on the aiport, but strangely felt pretty good once we were in flight. As we were approaching Shenzhen, something happened and I had to get the “sanitary bags” ready quick. Hadn’t been sick on the plane in a long time, time to reset the calendar. Damn Chinese barbeque on the last meal of the trip! Well, at least it wasn’t the first. I was purified! Li Zhen got sick 24 hours later. The End!

We slept late and as we were eating a good breakfast, the bus driver called and said he was prepared to leave, so we’d have to hurry if we wanted the good seats.

Morning on Lugu Hu (“Lugu Lake”)

The ride back was just as entertaining as the trip in. We stopped at a Chinese medicine/convenience store in the middle of nowhere – much better than the bathroom stop on the trip in where the guy refused my 7 cents in coin form for the privilege to use the smelly toilet, which was just a sluice that ran off down the mountain. (I was about to tell him, “Fine, don’t take it” (I’d already gone), when someone paid the fee in paper money).   Continuing on, I was noting to myself that 90% of the road between LiJiang and Luguhu was curve when there was a loud bang that sounded like a rock smacking the undercarriage of the bus. But, it was actually and exploded tire. So, we puttered to semi-civilization on the edge of a precipice and the driver went to work (later, another bus arrived, apparently friends, and helped to finish the job). In the meantime I wandered off for some pictures and video. The tire was fixed faster than I thought; fortunately I went down the road and was picked up by the bus as the driver continued on. We arrived back in LiJiang in the late afternoon. We dumped our backpacks and then met up with some folks for dinner.

Bad luck with vehicles. I knew we shouldn’t have driven three times around that pagoda.

I was looking forward to this day’s activities – Luguhu. This is the home to the famous Mosuo minority of China, the matriarichal society. Women are the heads of households, lineage is traced through women, women basically wear the pants. There’s also the curious and oft-misunderstood tradition of “visiting marriages” where men will climb in women’s bedrooms to play the role of husband for the evening and escape back before the sun rises.

More good mountain views. Sorry about the power lines.

We caught an early bus for the six hour bus ride. Ouch, six hours. Well, that time went by quickly. We arrived early and got good seats. I picked the very front to enjoy the big windshield. The driver showed up and barked something about how I was too tall to sit in the front. Well, I’ll be the judge of that. It was true, there was maybe 6-8 inches of space for my legs, but I just swung my legs over to the left on top of the backpacks and this worked just fine. We enjoyed great views and curious sights for the six hours. I was never bored. The road was often barely passable due to landslides and it was mostly all curves. We got great views of the back side of Jade Dragon Mountain and other peaks in the distance, villages perched high and low along the mountain slopes, up-close-n-personal views of village life complete with gutting pigs and old women toiling in the fields with traditional dress.

1) Landslide! 2) Hauling stuff on your back is a common sight. 3) So is this – kids are encouraged not to use the bathrooms.

Unfortunately, the rest of the trip was a bit of a letdown. The lake was huge, the views were great, but we didn’t see much of this culture. The entrance prices was about $11 and all we did was get driven to the opposite side of the lake, get a room, hike around a bit, and went to bed. Uh, what does the $11 cover? It was way more expensive than Leaping Tiger Gorge and not nearly as good. Those matriarchs ripped us off! Before, going to bed, we headed down to relax in the mellow restaurant/bar. There were only a handful of people down here and it felt more like the US and China (especially w/ the Nora Jones music playing). I spent some time writing in a journal (that became these blog entries) and looked forward to heading back to LiJiang tomorrow morning.

Mosuo women at the touristy lake, folks walking on the side of the road outside of the “park”. I thought those hats were pretty neat.

Shots of the beautiful lake. The lake sits on the border of the Yunnan and Sichuan provinces.

It figured; I awoke to no electricity. No hot water again, I reckon. So, I got ready quickly and went downstairs. We dropped off our packs and then went outside to catch a car to take us to Leaping Tiger Gorge. No way we wanted to take the same car, but when we saw the alternative, I suddenly became wistful for the flashlight-ride. I manned the backseat of the tiny Chinese van, which wasn’t bolted to the floor. So, whenever we ripped around a corner or dodged a boulder along the canyon, the seat would lift up and I’d have to right myself by brabbing on the front seat. The scenery, however, was stupendous….tremendous releif and a raging river at the bottom. We stopped at a restaurant perched high above the gorge and had a fried egg with fried rice – tasty. We opted for a guide (80 RMB…no bargaining again). That was well worth it in the time that it saved with her showing the proper place and paths to take. As with the rest of China, there were numerous paths and rabbit runs leading here and there.

The backside of Jade Dragon Mountain

Rocky peaks line the entrace to “Tiger Leaping Gorge” (“Hu2 Tiao4 Xia2″)

As we descended steeply, the views became better. I had the same exited feeling descending into this gorge as I do when I ascend above treeline in the North Cascades. We stopped at numerous places along the river. The rapids crashed and exploded all around us. The guide told us that this was the “low water” season. Many of the great vista spots are covered by water in summer. There are numerous makeshift bridges to access the various viewpoints that have to be removed before the waters rise too high. Because these bridges are built and maintained by the local villagers, they charge 10 RMB ($1.30) in each area. I think we paid three fees and it was definitely worth it. In one section, the one with most bridges, ladders, and scrambling needed, we were accompanied by an additional guide (paid for by our 10 RMB fee), a woman in her late 50s or 60s I guessed. She scampered up the ladders as well as anyone if not better. I should hire her as a guide for rock climbing or something.

The Argonath in the distance (I dubbed it thus…obviously). Actually, the top of the two large gates of the river is the spot where the tiger leapt. The second picture is looking upriver from the path through the lefthand pillar.

Via Ferrata to the view station.

Big crashing water.

We were right underneath the Argonath – the best part of the gorge when the guide announced that this was the end. The end?? But, it was still so early. I had noticed a gash in the lefthand cliff. “Can we go there?” “No.”…then after more discussion, “Well, it will cost 10 RMB.” Who cares? Let’s go! So we switchedbacked up and follwed the path into the cliff which was obviously hewn by hand. I raved the whole way at our position. The path was wide enough to be comfortable, but the right side plunged directly down to the river five hundred feet below. The further we hiked, the more I wanted to continue. Eventually, after maybe an hour, the terrain became less tortuous and I relented to ascending back up one of the switchbacking side paths. It was funny: The guide had said that a particular path a while back was our last opportunity to get out, but because of my continuous “15 more minutes!”, whaddya know, we found a few more places to go up.

Li Zhen was still struggling to breath and proclaimed, “I hate this place!”, with a tongue-in-cheek expression.
“What are you talking about? This is the best!”
“Too much work!”

When we arrived at the top we made a phone call to our driver (cell phones work almost everywhere) and he arrived to pick us up a mere 15 minutes later). What convenience. We arrived back at the little restaurant where we paid the guide, picked up another driver (the buides brother who wielded a machete to ward off theives). He wanted 400 RMB to take us back to LiJiang, but I wanted to step in and work him down:

<Raise an eyebrow while looking at car (which looks pretty good)> “How about 300?”
“350!”
“Hmmm, no too expensive. How about 300 and we buy you lunch?”
(Lots of laughs from his friends for some reason)
“OK!”

It always pays to at least try. We headed back to the village to retrieve our things and return to LiJiang. Bad weather had moved in and rain was threatening. It never actually rained while we were there, but I think we timed our trip nicely. He ended up not even wanting to eat lunch with us. OK, no problem.

Zoom in of spires high above. There is a new frosting on the north faces.

The ride back was entertaining – always something interesting going on outside. The rest of the evening in LiJiang was uneventful – a good dinner, street wandering, then sleep.

There was no new snow on the ground this morning so we left immediately for Mei Li Xue Shan. I was a little worried about getting stranded up there, but the thought of seeing some high 6000 meter peaks was too enticing. Plus, how many folks get to see them in winter? The weather looked promising. I sat in the back seat for the first part of the trip, which was to take around 5-6 hours, and started feeling dizzy as we ascended into the mountains. Switching to the front, I started to enjoy the ride again as we passed numerous temples, pagodas, and farms perched above high precipices.

Another snowy village

I love this shot down into the valley in the arid country. Actually, those farms and houses are not the bottom of the valley. It’s actually much farther down, much farther!

The snow eventually vanished as we entered arid country without hardly any trees. At one point, some finely dressed young people who were curiously loitering on the side of the road raised a ribbon, blocking our way. A small offering of money entitled us to a sip or two of some strong licquor and good wishes for safe passage in the mountains. Later, we arrived at the final village before our destination where we discovered we couldn’t continue – “too much snow”, so the police blocking the way said (there was naught but sunshine and warmth down in the valley). So, we had some lunch and then asked to drive up a little ways for some views. We then were told that we could indeed try to go up to the mountain area at 2pm. This was a theme for the past 24 hours – we can go/we can’t go…back and forth, back and forth.

The road beyond the village wasn’t exactly safe, not because of the snow, but the potential for landslides. Check out the lefthand wall in the first pic. We saw two or three small boulders tumble in front of us on this trip. Yikes. The snow was much safer.

More grand vistas opened up and the snow increased greatly. After a couple of hours of bouncing in the snow (the road was well plowed by the way), the driver noticed smoke rising from the engine. “Please just be steam”, I thought, but no such luck. Two of the belts and slipped off and one was shredded. The spare was doubled the size, so the driver and James spent a couple of hours with my swiss army knife trying to make it fit. It looked pretty dubious and sure enough, it didn’t work. OK, so we’re not going to the snow mountain. Descending wouldn’t strain the engine so much (maybe the brakes instead) so the driver reasoned and we started down. Within five minutes, we rant into a caravan of our driver’s friends who quickly produced a spare belt. All of the other tourists got out and began snapping away with their big fancy cameras.

Some low 14k hills in the distance. I wanna see the big ones!

Here are some examples of the aforementioned back and forth:

“Oh, we can’t go to the snow mountain because of the storms in China.”
“Oh, we can go because of the sudden good weather!”
“Oh, we can’t go because of the approaching snow storm.”
“Oh, we can go because no snow fell!”
“Oh, we can’t go because the police won’t let us.”
“Oh, we can try at 2pm!”
“Oh, we can’t because the car broke down.”
“Oh we can because the driver’s friends are here with a spare!”
“Oh, we can’t because the friends can’t fix the belts.”
“Oh, maybe we can tag along with one of the other cars!…”

“No! Too crowded.”

“Let’s see here….”, With a little help from our friends.

A nice looking spire in the distance

We left dejected. Before we were off of the bumpy snow-plowed road, I fell asleep…somehow managing to catch a few z’s between the endless sharp curves. I awoke when the car came to a halt back in the village where the police had originally halted us. The driver was gone and Li Zhen (“James”, remember) told me he was buying something. He then appeared through the car window and produced three flashlights. What? “The headlights aren’t working, so we’ll use these.” What??! Aw man… “Don’t worry. It’s only thirty minutes to Shangri-La.”, the driver consoled us with a blatant lie. I didn’t say anything, but I knew it was nowhere close to thirty minutes. It was at least an hour. At least.

The driver sped out of the village like a bat out of Hell, obviously trying to outrun the sun. The night crept in and our eyes adjusted, but that didn’t prevent our car from nearly flattening a party of people in the middle of the road around a sharp corner. The driver slammed on the brakes and the car skidded to a stop as the crowed scattered out of the way. Before I could regain my senses, the began shouting at us (rightfully so) and the driver slammed on the gas and sped off again, even dodging more people! Before too long, it became too dark and the three or four hour comedy of holding a flashlight outside the passenger window began. I found myself getting angry at the situation: the car breaking down, the driver not disclosing the problem with the lights until the final hour, and now the ridiculous situation of James having to hold the flashlight out of the window.

As we left the dry area and entered back into the cold northern slopes, the temperature dropped and it began snowing. Aw, just great! Somehow, it wasn’t a problem, except the car was perpetually freezing. Maybe it was too cold and windy to stick. Curve after curve…finally the lights of Shangri-La appeared. In Shangri-La, we needed to make the decision of staying there or pressing on to the village outside of Tiger Leaping Gorge, our next intended destination. The driver said that he could use the lights now that it was an issue of battery power (maybe no power to the alternator?). Oh yeah, and the “thirty minutes” to get to Shangri-La was really two hours. We decided to head for Tiger Leaping Gorge since that section of road was much more manageable than the previous.

But, did the driver turn on the headlights? No. Only in certain important areas like around checkpoints or when other cars passed us. He ended up smacking a big block of ice then stopped the car to inspect the damage (nothing to prevent us from continuing), to which I could only shake my head and sarcastically remark, “Well, that’s what happens with no headlights”. I have to hand it to James for manning the flashlight for the entire trip. I just sat back in the back and shivered. I asked James why the lights weren’t on. He just replied, “I don’t know.” I accepted that, not in the mood to discuss it. I complained loudly, in English, about not paying the guy when we got back. Of course, I knew there was no way we could do that, but I really felt like it. When the driver asked, “What’s he saying?” I quickly interjected, “Oh, I’m just really cold!” Some of these guys carry machetes.

We arrived at a cheap hotel around 11:30pm which promised hot water. We had a tasty late dinner in a cavernous and deserted restaurant. Somehow, no one elected to sit in any of the large (Western-style) chairs, but instead we squatted at the kid’s table (not really the kids table, but most of the tables I sat at on this trip featured chairs so small the my knees often rubbed against my chin). I was so looking forward to a hot shower; that would make it all right. I had already begun to settle down once we arrived. I couldn’t keep pouting after the three of us sat down and enjoyed that good meal. However, the shower water couldn’t muster beyond a little warmer than “damn cold” so I shivered and cursed. The bed was very comfortable though and the heated mattress made it snug. I slept soundly until 8am the following morning.

We were both still full from the night before so we skipped breakfast. I had another scare (my third or fourth, dang it) when I realized that I left my iPod behind. I was reluctant to admit it, but I had too. At least we were only five minutes away from the hotel and I jogged back where I picked up the iPod…as well as some gloves and a tobaggan. Oops. Ten minutes later and we were back enroute on our way to the bus station to catch a ride to Shangri-La or Tiger Leaping Gorge.

At least the view was nice for James while I ran back to fetch my things.

At the station, we were told that we needed to have at least twenty people before the bus would depart. After thirty minutes or so, we had about fourteen and decided to purchase the remaining six seats. Three of those fourteen, two girls and a guy, ended up spending a day or two with us as traveling companions. I complemented the guy, “Er Lu”, on his English pronunciation and asked where he learned it. He mentioned he was in the army for ten years and that because there was an anticipated war with the US, it would be useful to know English when dealing with the American prisoners of war. He then asked where I was from. “Oh, America.” He seemed a little uncomfortable after that and apologized profusely. I assured him, there was no need for apologies. But, he did seem to regard me with trepidation for the rest of his time with us (he ended up mysteriously vanishing from the two girls when James and I took off on our own for Mei Li Xue Shan). After indicating that we’d buy the remaining six tickets, the bus driver then decided that he wouldn’t leave until thirty tickets sold. Bum. So we went outside and rented two small vans to take us to Tiger Leaping Gorge. I enjoyed the ride – nice views of Jade Dragon Snow Mountain. At the stop for Tiger Leaping Gorge, it was suddenly decided that, because of the good weather, we should press on to Shangri-La. I didn’t care; either destination would be good. So, after a mediocre lunch on the side of the highway, we rented a 4×4 SUV (with driver, of course) and headed out.

Better and better views, more and more snow. Check out the small snowy village.

The views opened up as the snow on the road increased. The rhythmic bouncing of the car eventually put me to sleep. I awoke as we were making three turns around a Buddhist pagoda – for luck, of course. Not long after that, we arrived in Shangri-La, which felt more westernized than LiJiang, despite its remoteness. Many of the restaurants had English names and western food. There were also plenty of hostels which all seemed to have that western-pseudo majaraja feel. In fact, the place we stayed featured Bob Marley and Che Guevera posters. It was decently comfortable and cheap. Unfortunately, the pipes had frozen and we were without running water. We stored our things and hitched a bus over to the large monestary. It was impressive amidst the white broad plains and hills. We bought tickets for about $5 and went in. It was big enough that we could have spent a lot of time. My favorite part was going up on the top and seeing many birds flying together among the gables. The monks looked just like you’d expect them too – except for the fancy white leather basketball footwear. We returned back to the town and explored around some more.

Holy men like having their pictures taken. The Dalai Lama’s picture was hanging up all around. Free Tibet! I mean…Yunnan! Free everybody!

A panorama of the monestary.

Shangri-La was not crowded at all. In fact, it felt deserted with only a few folks walking around here and there. We found another temple up on a hill that had a giant golden prayer wheel (which claimed to be the largest in the world) next to it.   It took the five of us toiling like a young Conan the Barbarian to get it turning.   I got some nice video (movie of the trip to come!). Below was a pool being fed by the mouths of stone dragons. Holy water it was and it was good luck to use it to wash. The water wasn’t so cold, but drying off my hands and face in the cold Shangri-La winter breeze didn’t feel so lucky.

A view of the giant golden prayer wheel overlooking the fabled town of “Shangri-La” (“Xianggelila” in Chinese).

By this time it was dinner and we had the best “hot pot” meal that I’d ever had. It was a small, dingy, and smoky (from the small braziers warming the interior) place, but lots of character as a result. “Hot pot”, in case you’re not familiar, is a type of food (I think from Sichuan…not sure) that features a spicy soup in a cauldron heated by a fire. You order raw foods like vegetables and meats and place those in the hot soup to cook and then stick your chopsticks into the mix and pull out the newly cooked spicy morsels. After the meal, we returned to the hostel and enjoyed the “common room” – the first heated room that I’d enjoyed in a while. I was able to jump on the internet and send some emails. Weather reports indicated approaching snow and I could just see us getting stranded in Shangri-La for a few days. We went to bed, three guys in a room, and nestled into the warmth of the electric mat under the sheet.

Hot pot (braizer on the right almost out of view), folks in the comfort of the common room

I had a hard time dragging myself out of the bed today because it’s so cold out. But, we needed to be moving by 8:30, so with a bit a whining to myself, I got it done. We had a tasty breakfast (some sweet bread, two fried eggs, and a rice porridge). It was enough that it kept me satisfied most of the day.

Finishing up the rice porridge

Li Zhen (James) planned our day today which entailed going to the other side of Jade Dragon Mountain and then hiking and horseback riding our way back to LiJiang. Unfortunately, James didn’t negotiate the price beforehand and these guys wanted like 600 RMB for their services to get us back to LiJiang. “No way!”, I said. I said we could just walk the whole thing (we could have…would have been a long day, but doable). They were a little taken aback and we were able to negotiate down half price. Much better, but still pricey considering what we got. I mean, I had fun, but in terms of Chinese wages, they made out like bandits.

Still, as I mounted my little dumpy horse that was led by a local guide, I felt a bit like a dork. “I know how to ride a horse, just give me the map!”, I wanted to say, but I played along. “At least I can probably take some video…nope, too bumpy.”

The scenery was great. Strangely, it reminded me a lot of the South Park area around Colorado. Big open spaces, wide lakes, water birds, a thin veil of snow in places, cold. Even some of the vegetation in the mountain felt like a mix between Colorado and Georgia. Guess the world just keeps getting smaller and smaller. For part of the trip, we borded a boat. There’s really no purpose in it because it doesn’t get us anywhere, it’s more of those “do something that you’ve never done before” activity geared towards a city slicker from Shanghai. It was very windy too so I thought we wouldn’t be able to go very far. We didn’t. A few minutes after being blown down the lake, the guides start having to put their backs into poling us back to the landing dock. Silly.

A windy day on the water.

Birds in flight along the broad lake.

The rest of the trip was the journey back to LiJiang over a mountain pass. Again, we could have walked this, but it would have been a long day. What’s worse though is that there are so many unlabeled trails crisscrossing that almost anyone would certainly get lost and take double of the time they should, even with a map. The whole trip was well below treeline.

Upon arriving in a village with similar canals near LiJiang, I experienced the first of many false scares of losing important items. I have a bad habit of absent-mindedly placing important items in random places, granted safe but still random. It took me about five minutes to discover that I put my wallet in my vest pocket. I was so relieved and offered to pay for lunch which consisted of some Tibetan tea which is heavily laden with butter! It was very good, but I can’t remember tasting so much fat before…even moreso than a fast food restaurant. It was even served in a mini butter churner apparatus.

Villagers washing in clothes and vegetables in a canal (village near LiJiang)

This evening was Chinese New Year which began with a big dinner at the hotel. I introduced myself in Chinese and upon request, got up and sang “Lin Mei Mei”. Most of the folks then went out to a bar for a while. It’s customary for everyone to spend Chinese New Year at home. Lot of folks, and I’d even say almost all, have a bad habit of watching the Chinese equivalent of the Dick Clark New Year show. There was plenty of Chinese opera performances (one was even “Lin Mei Mei”), some of them were tolerable, a couple of them were awful. A much more respectable tradition is to make homemade dumplings and eat them before the new year. I didn’t make any, but I lent a helping hand eating plenty. Since the year of the pig was on the way out, I was able to justify losing count of how many I had. Actually, these were the best dumplings I think I’d ever had in China. The cooks had also put a coin in a dumpling or two. If you were lucky enough to find a coin (and not swallow it), maybe wealth would make a visit to you. No coins for me. The fireworks dutifully went off at midnight. There was no singular large fireworks display that I saw, but rather they were in all sorts of different locations. I got the sense that the Chinese didn’t enjoy the fireworks as much as we do (I’m sure they do), cause I didn’t see any crowds looking at the fireworks. In fact, some folks lit fireworks with nonchalance as if it were their 9-5 job. I saw one guy open his door, light a huge string of firecrackers with his cigarette, throw them out in the street, turn his back, walk back inside and shut the door.

(l-r) Cooking dumplings. A feisty, fun, and friendly Naxi woman, introducing herself as “Monkey”, displaying some fresh dumplings. Smoke from the fire clouds the social scene just before the new year, the year of the mouse.

Shortly after midnight, we promptly went to bed. We were going to get an early start tomorrow morning to head to Shangri-La and Mei Li Xue Shan (a 22,000 foot peak, still unclimbed, which we hoped to see).

Last year, less than a month of arriving in Asia for the first time, I took my Chinese New Year (aka Spring Festival) to Guilin and surrounding environs. This year, a colleague, Li Zhen (aka “James”), suggested what we go to the Yunnan province in central southern China bordering Burma and Timbet. This sounded just dandy to me – remote location I hadn’t heard of before, near other mystical places, Shangri-La, 20K foot Himalayan foothills. Sign me up. We left on February 5th by plane traveling from Shenzhen to LiJiang, with a short layover in Kunming, the capital city of Yunnan. As we banked south towards the LiJiang landing strip, we enjoyed an up close n’ personal flyby of the big peak overlooking the city of LiJiang, Jade Dragon Mountain (Yu Long Xue Shan), rising over 5600 meters above sea level.

Jade Dragon Mountain on a bright day from a hill in LiJiang.

We were met by a representative (a driver hired for a few cents) of the inn/house that we were staying at and hopped into the little Chinese made minivan. Dang, I can’t remember the name of the brand, but, Yunnan being a poor province and these automobiles being cheap, these small vans are popular all around the province. Thirty minutes later, we pulled into the old town of LiJiang, disembarked, and walked 5 minutes to our inn. There was no heat anywhere where we went in this province, but each bed had a small electric pad placed on the top of the mattress to warm the bed. We were hungry so took off wandering around the town. I was mesmerized by the town and immediately proclaimed it as one of my favorites. It reminded me of Venice, and is often referred to as “The Venice of China” in tour guides, with the canals and bridges all around. The Jade river flows into the plain where LiJiang is built and splits into several tributaries. A couple of thousand years ago, someone had the great idea of building a city on top of the water and controling the tributaries with canals. It is stunning. The water is crystal clear and there are plenty of “old town” sites such as people washing their clothes vegetables in the canals (in the mornings it’s brushing teeth). There are lit orange lanterns everywhere that give the alleyways a perpetual sunset look at night.

(left) Check out the cool tripod I’m using to take night shots. (right) Night shot from Jame’s “night” lens.

Night shots of LiJiang. Pretty amazing, eh?

The city was quite chilly but a tasty dinner of hot noodles, toufu, and bananas fixed that right up. Later on, with some other inn guests, we headed in another direction and into a lively crowd. The setting was stunning with the canal running down the middle of the street.The only moment that sullied the experience was a mother holding her young child in the “bathroom position” (baby’s back pressed against the mother’s chest as the mother pulls the child’s legs up, rear end pointed directly down). The kid has already produced a mess in the middle of the floor, a store floor at that! Baah!

I set foot in China for the first time around one year ago, within just a couple of weeks to attend the 2007 Annual Party. That party, as you may have read in the original post, was a total surprise to me. The typical bo-ring US corporate party was my precendent and what followed was shocking – and great! There was such a genuine festive mood in the air and folks when around wishing each other a Happy New Year, complete with drinking and laughter. What was even more surprising was that coworkers, regardless of their ability, got up and performed for each other. In fact, I remember clearly Sally, one of the HR girls, had joined our team that very day and was the first performerer of the evening. She got up and sang a solo! That blew me away!

Fast forward one year to the 2008 Annual Party. We had a bigger budget, a bigger crowd, a real stage with lights, digital video, the works. I was impressed. The organization is still something of a mystery to me – a committee of employees somehow forms and they end up putting together this amazing good time. I was volunteered to sing a duet with Sally – the same Sally. “OK, sure!”, I said without hesitation. It was quite a challenge for me, though barrels of fun. Learning an old “Chinese Opera” duet was no easy feat. I practiced the song, entitled “Lin Mei Mei”, many times so that I’d have it committed to memory.   I had a sense of pride that prevented me from allowing myself to show up on stage with a cheat sheet, although I was tempted to scribble the beginnings of the lines on my hand.

Here are some pre-party preparation pics:

(l-r) Practicing again and again w/ Sally, Trying out the stage, Some of the boyz perfect a funny dance

(l-r) Cherie is our talented choreographer (and receptionist), Displaying some of the doorprizes, Posing with some of the dancers, who are test engineers mostly.

More performers for the evening:

People start rehearsing for the show about one month to two weeks before. I didn’t get serious until the final week and had to cram the night before the show. Even then I was getting my “Xin1″ 心 (“heart”) lines mixed up a la “My heart is moving like the wind blows through the willows” and “Though this stranger has descended from the sky, deep in my heart I know she’s a long time friend.”

Here are some great shots from the performances:

(l-r) The dance number set a good tone, Leon and Pinkamon perform. Pinkamon is from Thailand and has about the same Chinese ability as me. We were the only foreigners to perform. Gotta get Bill or Daryl (if he’s in town) to perform next time.

Like the costumes?

There were some choice door prizes too: Zunes, Gifts Certificates, XBox 360s… Jimmy gave out many of them. I like this picture which shows Jimmy and William looking surprised at the recipient of the current prize (not sure who this particular prize was for):

We had a tasty Cantonese dinner spread out over a long time while playing a singing game. The microphone went from table to table and someone would get up and sing a capella. I think the objective was to begin your song on the same word that the last song ended. Finally, to wrap up the evening, we then went around to each other’s table toasting and wishing a each other a happy new year of much prosperity, luck, fortune, money, happiness, and so on.

Marshall croons for the appreciative crowd.

A colleague shot this video on his still camera so it’s not so good, but you’ll get the idea of the performances. There will be a high quality version which I’ll be sure to add later.