One other pretty fascinating nugget I didn’t mention from the day before: the fire festival. I didn’t find out exactly what it was until the day after, but apparently it was while I was on day 2 of the gorge. What I’ve since learned is that it’s a festival in which people make fire sacrifices to their ancestors for health and/or luck. So…cool.
When my south/central American family and I were coming back from the gorge, we were all exhausted, but sleep was an impossibility. we sat there, 6 zombies with ipods on, intermittently speaking Spanish, English and Chinese as the driver navigated potholes and washed out roads at recklessly high speeds. He also seemed to be infatuated with his tea. There were many factors that contributed to a general sense of unease as we propelled onward toward lijiang.
it wasn’t until we were about 30 minutes away from the gorge that we started to see people carrying bundles of burning twigs as they walked along the side of the road. I figured it was an apt replacement for electricity out in what seemed to be a pretty remote part of southwestern-ish china. It was starting to get dark, so that made sense to me. And the fact that literally everyone was running with these burning bundles made it seem more likely that it was some functional aspect of everyday life, it just happened to be some minutiae that was incredibly joyful. Eventually it got completely black on these backwoods roads and you could just see little flecks of fire bobbing up and down the hills flanking our shoddy highway. People making their way to and fro with these sticks of fire.
At every major intersection, the roads were closed and big pyres/effigies were erected, some with stick men on top. Crowds circled the burning structures, locked hands and danced in a circle around them. this was the case at about 5 intersections we tried to get through. At this point the scooter man was getting a little frustrated because there weren’t any alternate routes to my guesthouse. So I told him I’d give him 20rmb (instead of 10) if he actually got me to where I needed to be. This provided adequate impetus. Ultimately he drove through one of the circles of dancing people. they had to unlock hands to let us through. I felt embarrassed, but it was also pretty great to be among it, even if I was fucking with the sanctity of it all by being on a scooter.
Finally got to guesthouse, they’d given my bed away, stopped serving food. That’s where the last post left off. So I shuffled down the alley about 50 feet to check into the alternate guest house. It was fine. They had warm water and soap. That’s really all I wanted.
I was supposed to spend the next day in lijiang, but I said “fuck this claustrophobic place. I’m out of here.” I didn’t actually say that. But it was nice for about half a day. If I never go back to lijiang, I’m okay with that. Don’t tell that to a Chinese person, though. they’ll think you’re crazy. I learned a few weeks later that lijiang has a reputation for “one night stands.” So I guess lots of chinese singles go there to get their swerve on. I guess I overlooked that part.
Headed to the bus station to catch the first bus out of lijiang to dali.
Stayed at the sleepyfish inn. I highly recommend it. the rooms are great, but the beer/water is a little pricey. But it’s worth it, because they let you just run a tab and pay for it all at the end, this includes bike rental, breakfast, scooter rental, laundry service. All the amenities. I thought it was a great idea. This could be dangerous or convenient, depending on your budgeting/self-control. But the people there were just really nice, genuine people. it was refreshing to stay somewhere owned by foreigners, because there was the tab and they had dogs and there was very much a family feel about the whole place. It’s the most relaxed I’ve ever felt sharing space with strangers. This was the overriding feeling the whole time “I can’t believe how relaxing it is to share a bathroom.” I usually hate hostels or things with communal stuff, but not here. I didn’t really want to leave.
Anyhoo, back to the bus. Another example of random acts of kindness.
There was a young dude sitting next to me. About 10 minutes onto the bus from lijiang I stuck my hand into my backpack, where my razor was sitting, sharp end up. ended up cutting the crap out of my knuckle. He silently handed me a new package of tissues. Before asia, they only person I can recall who used to carry those little individual “servings” of tissue is my grannie. it seems like something a lot of old women would have in their purses, but I just remember grannie always having these little tissue packets. And tons of avon brand chapstick. I can’t remember the exact name of it and that bothers me…
About 2 hours in, before the rest stop, tissue dude gave me candy in the middle of the ride. Again, he didn’t say anything to me, he just gestured for me to take one.
His treatment of me was unfamiliar, especially given his demographic: teenage Chinese boy. Usually they laugh and point or say a very annoying “hallo.” But he wasn’t intrusive in any way. Maybe because he was alone. Maybe because he was just a nice guy. I’d like to think it was the latter.
The bus to dali was surprisingly pleasant. The sky seemed huge (even moreso than lijiang), with sprawling fields of sunflowers punctuating the landscape.
My bus dropped me off in the middle of construction (yup, china), about half an hour ahead of schedule, which is highly unusual. I’d heard that I’d need to take a bus or an 80 rmb taxi to get into dali old town. I asked some security people for help, so they called my guesthouse. Turns out I was right next to the east gate, which was very close to where the sleepyfish lodge was. a woman from the guesthouse came and picked me up. checked in, met the dogs, went wandering. ‘twas grand.
Dali is a very small city. I loved this. for the next 7 or 8 days I didn’t take a taxi. I walked, biked or e-biked everywhere. It was fantastic. You could get from one side of the old town to the other in about 15 minutes, with plenty to see and do and plenty of side streets worth exploring along the way.
So the first day in dali I ended up at the bad monkey bar for some afternoon respite from the sun. I’d actually heard about it while I was in the gorge from peeps who’d already done dali. I initially had my reservations. It was only slightly reminiscent of reggae bar in hangzhou, but somehow not nearly as annoying. The bar itself wasn’t annoying at all, there were some interesting “characters” I met, but that happens at any bar. There were a shitload of dreadlocks in a confined space, and the reggae was definitely a presence as well, but these are not necessarily bad things, so long as the beer is good. And it was. It was also cheap. You could get a large bottle of local beer for 12rmb. And their own in-house beer for 25. a shot of jameson was 18 rmb. I live in a place where a shot of jameson at one of the local watering holes is 40. Seems a little ridiculous. Maybe this is why I have no social life. I can’t afford the booze that makes me fun enough to be around.
Anyhoo, the booze was good, as was the pizza. I am not ashamed to say I went to this bar nearly every night. and I’m not even a hippie! It was fun to pretend for a week, though. i wore hemp pants and batik shirts. And I’m not ashamed! Anyhoo, I met so many interesting people at the bar—tourists and barkeeps alike. Aviram the bartender and entertainer. Choice quote: “she’s not a hippie (lifting up my arm)—she shaves her armpits.” The irish contingent: kiran and gary and sinead. I learned what a “knacker” is. this is useful.
Drinking the bad monkey beers I had a brief hint of nostalgia for lovejoy’s in Austin, tx. micro brew. And the Dog and duck. That’s the name! I’ve been trying to remember the name of that bar for forever. Solomon burke on the jukebox and a very attractive bartender, attractive despite the fact that he kind of reminded me of ray james. Ray james and his one-armed push-ups. “for your love…"
I also managed to find my way to a tailor on the first day. Had more hippie pants made. Aka, squirrel pants. It later became a game: count the squirrel pants.
Day 6
I had intended to rent a bike and just kind of wander around with no plan, but the front desk was unusually busy, so I just started walking. A dutch chick in my dorm room had mentioned the mountains as a nice destination, so I grabbed a map and headed out to cangshan mountain. so I’d heard the hike was great. I assumed that was the hike up, not the hike actually at the top of the mountain. So I spent over 2 hours just climbing straight up to get to the hike. What most other people had done was take the chairlift up, then do the very easy (but beautiful) 11 km paved hike at the top. I didn’t do that.
First stop: i just walked through a cemetery.
Second stop: Wait, I’m still in the cemetery. And it’s a sea of tombs. So many mounds with sprouts growing out of them. hairy mounds. With bones in them.
Third stop: So I’m sitting in the cemetery and I feel a little weird about that. Weirder still is the fact that I haven’t seen another person in at least 1 hour. It’s quiet aside from the buzz of insects and the far-removed din of the city.
Near the top of the mountain, I almost gave up, having no idea how long it was supposed to take to walk up the mountain. Then a monk in full garb and two other dudes passed me on mules. So I asked the monk how much longer. He said 10 minutes. So that was great. at the top there was a little temple. I think maybe people thought I was extremely out of shape because I was so winded. Everyone else had taken the chair lift, and I was panting and sweating like a crazy person. I figured I’d continue my punishment and hike up to higherland inn. I think the next time I go back to dali by myself I’ll stay there. It’s about as zen as it gets. And it’s straight up, even more isolated and in the mountains than everything else. But there was a tiny little restaurant and the owner cooked me some vegetarian curry. Good stuff.
I poked around a bit on the mountain, then began my descent. On the way back to the hostel, I ran into Judith, the dutch girl who had been in my dorm room (I switched to a single room). we made a plan to meet up on the patio later for a pre-beer before street food and the bad monkey.
So we imbibed 2 large dali beers at around 7:30, which became my routine for the rest of my time there. Beer consumption at the sleepyfish marked the beginning of a good evening.
Headed to street food. It’d been a while. I think I ate a little too much street food in hangzhou, so I’ve pretty much done without it for about a year. But it was nice to sit outside in weather that isn’t scorching or uncomfortable, watching pedestrians. This was the first and only time of vacation that someone called me a foreigner. After 5 days without the word, I was shocked to hear it.
Then we went to bad monkey. I believe I did several jaeger bombs. What the hell. I’m 32 years old. But hey, it was vacation.
Day 7
Rented bikes with Judith. The plan was to head to a butterfly park about 25 km away. No problem! She’s dutch, they ride bikes everywhere. I’d lived in hangzhou and ridden my bike everywhere. A year ago.
Started out in the rain. Had to stop about 10 km at a sinopec gas station while we waited out the rain. We were there in the rain for at least 30 minutes. It was funny because this was the exact same spot where she had to turn around 2 days prior due to a flat tire. She was determined to wait it out and actually make it to the park. It ultimately turned out to be a beautiful day.
One of the best meals of the whole vacation came near the entrance to the butterfly park. Just some little hole in the wall place where you point in a cooler at what you want. But really really fresh ingredients and simple veggies combined in ways I’d never had before. Simple and good.
We got to the park and didn’t see a whole lot of butterflies. It was actually a very very nice park, spacious, clean, a lake. So it didn’t make a lot of sense that its namesake was this depleted, depressing mesh house of butterflies. In this sprawling park, the actual butterflies were mostly condensed to a ramshackle little shed. The worst part was seeing all these dead, trampled butterflies on the path and watching little kids sort of snatch them out of the air and crush them.
By this point my taint was really upset that it was in such pain for such little return on the butterfly investment. And we still had the 25 km to go back, biking into the wind. Fuuuuuuucccckkk. It was rough, to say the least. The worst part about it all was not my taint, or the distance, but the fact that the seat raised but the handlebars didn’t. so your ass is in the air, but you have to hunch over to grab the handlebars. So my shoulders and neck were just destroyed. The last 5 km were fucking grueling.
After all that, I passed out early. Felt fine the next day, but it was rough. Definitely a moral here: get the handlebars that you don’t have to bend over to reach. Why the fuck do people even make those. What’s the benefit? Tour de pain.
Day 8
Sore taint in tow, I decided to keep it simple. Thought I’d peruse a little more of the town. So I headed to 88 bakery where I’d heard they had a plethora of cheese. This was true. But in chongqing I’m not really hurting for cheese. A cheap beer, yes, but cheese, no. so I had a Blt and a feta salad. Noice.
I wandered around a bit more and tackled the last section of my book. picked up my pants from the tailor of day one.
Met up with Judith again later. We were on a quest to find this pizza place jules and rory had been to on their trip, but no luck. We settled for dumplings on the street. Which was also a good choice. I ate more dumplings in dali than I’ve eaten during a year in chongqing.
Ended up at bad monkey again, doing all sorts of random shots, including absinthe. It was delightful, particularly as a bomb shot in red bull. I’m sure some purists would scoff, but I’m no purist.
We met some other dutch people there and I was happily surrounded by them. it was just cool to be able to interact with so many strangers in an immediately friendly way—to hear their stories: where they were coming from, where they were going, what their “real” lives were like.
Day 9
This was a pretty uneventful day. Judith’s going away pizza festivities. the pizza, nachos and fried cheese were pretty good at first, but a few hours later I think we both suffered from some sort of food poisoning. I was lucky though because I was able to just chill out at the guesthouse with a bathroom nearby. She, unfortunately, had to get on an overnight bus and start 24 straight hours of traveling to get to India. Yikes.
Day 10
This was a very very exciting day. Had to try to find something to do that I hadn’t done yet. I’d had enough physical activity by this time, so I wanted to do something cool, time consuming and a first. so I rented a scooter/e-bike from the guesthouse. Another reason the peeps at sleepyfish were so awesome. They gave me a tutorial on the little side street out in front of the lodge entrance. It was more than a little scary at first, given the last time I’d tried to drive a motorcycle (in korea. Ultimately the bike fell over and gas started pouring out of it. I was so hungover…). I’m used to using my hands to brake, so it was strange to me that this was also what made you move, sometimes suddenly. But I was able to go out to the little villages by the lake, go to the ferry pier and get lost on the gravel roads on the outskirts of dali. It was pretty great. I did almost hit a dog and get stuck in the mud briefly, but all told it went off basically without incident.
Went back to the fish later. Met up with some irish folks who’d been on the trail and just happened to stay at the same guesthouse as me (cool!). they were a trip! This couple who had been together for 8 years and were just really excited to tell all their stories from traveling and being together for that long. I learned a lot about “knackers” and other irish terms. Very very cool people. I was lucky to meet such interesting strangers on my vacation. They liked the tiny desk concert series and always had speakers for their ipod. My first impression of them was at the gorge when they were doing the 28 steps with sinead o’connor blasting from their little speakers as we all struggled up the hill (and by “we” I of course include my mule). They were a nice excuse to be social and witty and engage in quality banter. These are not things I consider strengths of mine. At least not upon a first meeting.
Anyhoo, met up with them later at the bar for dinner and booze. Holy shit, bad monkey’s pizza were great. I would come to realize just how great the next night when I opted for a café de jack pizza instead. Stupid move.
Hearing the irish folks talk with the Israeli bartender about specific places in Ireland they’d all been was really really cool. By the end of the bartender’s travel stories, the most surprising thing was that he hadn’t been to Columbia, Missouri. Another very late, stumbly night. but good. And no hangover!
Day 11
Decided to revisit the canghan mountain and do it the easy way. Which meant taking a very long, quiet chairlift up the mountain. At the top there’s a paved walkway, I won’t even call it a trail, which covers 11 km or so around the top. It was very easy, very beautiful hiking. I passed very few people in the hours I was up there. The part that struck me as something distinctly unchinese was how accessible it all was. Literally anyone could go and walk/wheel around up there—unhealthy people, people in wheelchairs, people in heels. I thought it was pretty cool that those who might not normally get to interact with nature in the conventional ways weren’t cut off from this environment.
Spent a good part of my day up there, wandered back in the early afternoon. And then it was back to the bad monkey, for an unofficial going away party. Yep, I was so popular at the bar that we had a going away party. I didn’t leave for another day, but this other irish guy was leaving the next day, so we decided to celebrate together.
The night got off to a kind of shitty start when a guy who had put his backpack in the barstool next to me couldn’t find his bag later. Had his computer in it. so he was freaking out. I just kept thinking “well, at least you live here. that’ll make it less of a hassle to deal with your visa and shit.” They found the bag later, but I don’t know if it still had all his stuff in it.
There were definitely some interesting characters there that night. maybe it was a different night when the Scottish guy who was trying to hit on me told me “I have yellow fever, but you’re the first western woman I’ve looked at in a long time.” This was before he invited me to come live with him in hainan. Yikes. Then there was the guy from new york who said he was a pot farmer in the hills outside dali and that he had a gun on him. he also had a wonky eye and wasn’t very socially self-aware (evidenced by the gun proclamations). Weird night.
Day 12
My last full day in dali was definitely a highlight. Took another cue from Judith and signed up for a Chinese Cooking class. It was funny because the meeting point to go shopping with the chef was at the bar. Seems like I’d just gotten home from the bar then ended up there again. Anyhoo, there was a couple my age-ish from Chicago also participating. He was a professor at northwestern (something scientific). She was a professor at Columbia college—film and media studies? These are in the right area. Anyway, they were super fucking cool. Again, I was very lucky to be randomly linked up with all these different people on vacation. They were in china because he was part of some team of artists and scientists who’d helped put in an installation at the Beijing art museum. Some huge thing that used live fish and was interactive. So I got to spend the next 5 or so hours with them. He had proposed to her 2 days prior.
And of course the bad monkey later. An Israeli couple from the guesthouse happened to be there. Of all the things and all the amounts of booze I’d had at that bar all week, this was the night I felt the most fucked, because we did about 4 shots of tequila in a span of less than 20 minutes. Their treat. Sheee-it.
Stayed there far far too late again. Aviram insisted I wait until the bar closed so he could give me a ride on his scooter. So I did. Sleepy. I felt really sad getting off the scooter though and saying goodbye to him. who knew a bar could make me so sentimental… wait a minute, there are quite a few watering holes I know of that make me all nostalgic. But I was already feeling nostalgic and I hadn’t even left yet.
I don’t have a social life in chongqing. This is okay with me for a lot of different reasons. I have my family, I have a job that I’m good at. I know the consequences of too much of a social life (hangzhou and Columbia) and how shitty that can feel when it’s all you have to wallow in. but it was nice to have no responsibilities for over a week. And I guess that’s what vacation is all about. But then you have to come back to reality, and it was pretty refreshing to realize that reality’s not so bad either.
I got a promotion. I’m now officially a director of a school. so that’s pretty cool, I think.
Madonna’s version of American pie could be the worst thing I’ve ever heard. Ever.
The tall, hot german who I had absolutely no chemistry with. We tried to make small talk, but both gave up and admitted that it just wasn’t happening. That was very strange…
