The Great Firewall

The view of the Kaarst mountains from the courtyard restaurant at our hotel

They call it "The Great Firewall of China' and it has blocked me from using my blog and facebook. I've just managed to get over it this morning. I apologize that this post is quite long, as it is a compilation the past week.

From Hong Kong, our three-hour bus ride to Guanghou through the border town of Shenzen was comfortable and fairly easy. However at Shenzen, when passengers got off the bus as the driver made announcements confusion overcame us. We gestured to official looking people, and they replied with gestures as well, pointing us in a direction we followed. We were strangely comforted by a large sign, "FOREIGNERS", and after waiting in that line we were through to China. (We giggled thinking about how offensive that sign would be considered in the US!)

The bus dropped us off at the Marriot Hotel in Guangzhou, where we saw a group of Americans with their newly adopted Chinese children. It was sweet to see them, especially the older couples who had adopted special needs children. One child that stood out was a little Albino boy - white skin, white hair, but obviously Chinese. I wonder how different his life will be now, and was blessed to think of all the love he will receive from his new parents.

The Marriot was very familiar, with it's English signs and Western comforts, so in our pride, we agreed to leave for the train station immediately, to be immersed in the 'real' China. When we arrived by taxi 5 minutes later, our hearts sank...nothing recognizable, nothing familiar. I know, we are in China. We should have expected it to be hard. But no foreknowledge could not have prepared us for this. A sea of people was moving like a million ants, with purpose, with knowledge of where they were going, while Chris and I were just standing, staring, lost; the longer we stood with blank expressions, the more hawkers we attracted, who began yelling at us to 'buy, buy' or 'you like, you like'... We were glad to remember Jesse's lesson in Chinese, "WO BU YAO" (meaning, I don't want it). The station plaza was as big as 5 football fields and completely full of people. The temperature was around 95 with a humidity of around 95%, our backpacks were too heavy, sweat was pouring down every inch of our bodies, and the assault of traffic and people left us feeling that we were in way over our pampered heads. Nevertheless, we marched on to the station ahead, where we unfortunately discovered that there were no cozy waiting rooms or lovely little quaint restaurants in which to pass the next 6 hours. Just a crowd of people, sitting and lying on mats and towels, crouched around their belongings, chomping on chicken feet and instant noodle bowl ramen. Hmmmm....what to do? We were completely overwhelmed. Yes, that Marriot was sounding really nice just about then; we happily tucked in our tails, took a cab straight back there, where we ate lunch and had our feet massaged in air-conditioned comfort.

Chris knew we were in for a long night on the train, as we would be sharing a sleeper berth with two strangers. He began to pray that we'd have English speaking berth-mates, with whom we could share some conversation...We were exhausted and shell shocked, and even a bit scared, to be honest. Our humor was high, though! There must have been between 50,000 people in the station, and we saw not one Westerner, so we knew we were asking for a miracle. When the time came to board, we finally saw some western faces - a tall man, a red-haired woman, and a blond baby. Chris said, "Wouldn't that be nice if they were our berth-mates?" I laughed like Abraham's Sarah. We were placed in the berth next to them; seconds later, the Chinese man in their room began to beg us in broken English to switch with him so he could be with his family who were in our room. When Chris quickly agreed, the man said, "You a good man, you a good man" to Chris. Indeed. I just have to say, 'Thank you, Lord", for listening to us and loving us enough to care.



Bamboo rafting on the Li River, Yangshuo, China

Yangshuo is a gorgeous place. People come here to see the egg-shaped limestone mountains and the famous Li river, on which they take bamboo raft trips. There must be thousands of rafts on this stretch of the river. As you walk along the river, hawkers follow and they don't easily give up. "You take raft. My uncle driver. Good raft. I tell you story". It's very difficult to convince them that you do not want to get on that raft of theirs.



The Giggling Tree Hotel

Our hotel is really sweet. The mattress has no fitted sheet, however, and the flat sheet barely covers the top of the matress and it tends to pull away from the sides in the night. I am a right hand sleeper so I've figured out that I have to turn counter-clockwise to prevent the mattress from becoming exposed. Ha! The bathroom is just that - a room. It has a toilet, which cannot take any paper products whatsoever (this is normal for China), which means even when you go poo (EHW), you have to toss the paper in the bin. It has a pedestal sink and a shower head and a tiled floor which becomes drenched and slippery when one of us takes a shower. They provide a squeegee mop to mop up the extra water on the floor. But overall, we are comfortable and happy here. They have a restaurant with an outside courtyard that overlooks farms and the mountains. The staff will do our laundry for $3 per kilo (2.2 pounds), and it hangs on the line behind the courtyard. Although it takes a long time to dry, due to the humidity, it's nice to have clean clothes without having to wash them in a sink.

The staff here is mostly young Chinese men and women. They are a little shy but they are all practicing their English and are eager to try out talking and having conversations with the guests. One of the girls converted to Jehovah's witness through a tourist, and when she realized we were Christians she asked many questions and seemed excited about talking to us about God. There's a boy waiter whose Western name is Cain. He said to Chris, "My name Cain, like in Bible. You tell me story of Cain". So Chris told him the sad story as carefully as possibly, and the boy was clearly devastated. He asked, "So Cain a good man or bad man?". Chris said, "He's a good man. He's like me. Sometimes he just didn't like what God told him."

The day we left Colorado, I was felt anxious and a little scared. I opened my brand new travel Bible randomly, and this where my eyes landed, "But I'll take the hand of those who don't know the way, who can't see where they are going. I'll be a personal guide to them, directing them through an unknown country. I'll be right there to show them which roads to take, make sure they don't fall into a ditch. These are the things I'll be doing for them, sticking with them, not leaving them even for a minute." Isaiah 42:15-16 The Message version.

Here it is very easy to see His care and mercy. Today, after our rainy kayak trip, we were drenched head to toe, and although our driver was conracted to drop us back at our hotel, he insisted that we get out on a busy street miles from our hotel. We had no idea where we were, with no way to tell another driver where to take us. The other passenger was Chinese but happened to speak perfect English; he looked up our hotel and called a cab for us and explained to the cab driver where we needed to go. Upon hearing this story, a good friend just wrote me and said, "Sometimes too much planning and preparation doesn't leave enough room for God". Too true.

West Street, Yangshuo, China

Dear Violet:
I  have sent you several postcards so far. I wonder how long they will take to reach you. Did you find Yangshuo on your map? It is a small town but there is lots of traffic, mostly motor scooters. People ride them crowded with their whole families. Yesterday I saw a boy standing on the platform of a scooter, playing cards in his dad's lap while his dad was weaving through traffic. Another time I saw 4 people on one scooter, with a baby in between them. It is very dangerous I think.
Love, Uncle Chris

Street scene near our hotel

Arriving in Hong Kong at 2 a.m. was a relief after a 27 hour journey.  Chris was thrilled to fly on the new Airbus A380 despite the accident with the Quantas plane last year in which shortly after takeoff one of the engines' parts basically started to fall off...he thoughtfully refrained from telling me about it. I was most impressed by the video cameras attached to the underbelly, tail, and nose which allowed passengers to view the takeoff and landings.  Pretty cool. 


A highlight of Hong Kong has been the cooking classes at Martha Sherpa, who is famous for teaching the proper techniques of Chinese cookery to tourists and professional chefs. The first day we learned Schezuan wok cookery, my favorite dish being the spicy noodle with fried eggplant, and the second day was Cantonese-style cuisine. I think my favorite thing was learning how to make a crispy and balanced sweet and sour pork. Notice in the picture how the sauce coats the pieces of pork and vegetables, but there is not a pool of sauce on the plate.  Good luck trying to find it cooked this way in any Chinese restaurant at home.  Apparently, we like our pork to swim...Anyway, as it was dinner time when class was over, I took leftovers to Chris and after an hour of tranport through the humid streets of Hong Kong, the pork was still crispy.  Amazing.



Sweet & Sour Pork

Cantonese prefer subtle flavor in contrast to Schezuan cooking in which firey hot burn is valued. One of my classmates was Cantonese American, and his family has a restaurant in Chicago. He was unable eat the eggplant dish, which had chili peppers, but I didn't find it too spicy. Overall, I learned that I knew very little which was correct about Chinese cooking and certainly I did not know how to use a wok properly. I felt shy and insecure, and it was quite humbling. A most challenging cuisine! I've got a lot to learn.

(Brent: the next paragraph may need to be paraphased for Violet)

We went for an early walk this morning and found ourselves in a meat market just as deliveries were being made.  A truck pulled up and opened its back door, and out jumped two men.  They each quickly pulled down a hanging pig, let it drop on the floor of the truck, then dragged it to the edge of the truck and slung it over their shoulder, after which they threw it on a vendor's table. Entrails tied together on a string like a necklace, hanging from a steel hook were casually tossed on the floor below the table.  These men were in a hurry.  The un-refridgerated truck was full of hanging pigs and the temperature outside was a balmy 90F.  The floor of the also un-airconditioned market was beginning to be covered in blood and guts.  As this was taking place, the vendor with his new pig and entrails was preparing for daily sausage making, setting up his grinder on the table on which the whole pig lay.  Imagine the aromas, oppressive heat, moisture, and blood. 

Freshly butchered meat hanging in the open air, ready for customers

Chickens across the aisle were getting their feathers ruffled as they were being prepared for slaughter, causing feathers to fly into the air just as we were walking by his stall. We instinctively covered our mouths to keep the dust from entering our lungs. At this point, we began to question the wisdom of being in this environment.  Chris was splattered with runoff as a vendor was spraying down the floor of his bloody stall with a hose - Chris started gagging...and all I could think about was that movie Contagion.  We got back to the hotel as quickly as we could where he showered vigorously with anti-bacterial soap. Breakfast was vegetarian.

Dear Violet,

Aunt Becky and I like to go walking in the mornings here in Hong Kong.  The park near the hotel is a place where old people go to do their exercise dancing.  They call it Tai Chi.  Ask your mom to google it on youtube. It is fun to watch. 

Love, Uncle Chris