No Bros

The train ride back from Xi'an was a delight. We had splurged on "soft sleeper" seats, which had only four beds (as opposed to six) which were bigger and more comfortable. Yu Yun had mistakenly put us different cabins and it turned out that she got the boring one (explained in a moment). She tried to switch with the odd, quiet woman in the bunk above mine, but she didn't want to move.

If she had had any foresight she certainly would have wanted to, because opposite us was a family with two young boys, sharing two bunks with mom and granddad. All evening they were climbing over the bunks, playing under the blankets, jumping from one side to the other, and at certain times escaping into hall with mother and grandpa in hot pursuit. The youngest (about 3) capriciously kept demanding to be moved from the top bunk to the lower one and even sometimes venturing over to mine, but that was only when he wasn't chasing after his brother or looking for ghosts out the window. His "Ge Ge" (older brother) enjoyed playing with him for intervals of about 10 minutes. Then he would get tired and start fighting with him over something, at which point mom would intercede and he would cry about how she loved "Di Di" more than him. It occurred to me that this interplay was something I hadn't seen much of in China, and there's a good reason why.

Because of the one child policy, parents are not supposed to have more than one son. In rural families, if the first child is a girl, then they may have a second child, and there are other exceptions, including a fine for "breaking" the rules. Yu Yun talked with the mother and found out that they were from Jiangsu province, but the oldest was attending school in Beijing (to ensure he learns proper Mandarin) which confirmed that the family was probably pretty well-off. So if they didn't already have connections with the powers that be, they could probably handle the fines. But most of the young people I know, including the students I teach, are only-children, or just have sisters (ewwww, sisters :)) so a big or little brother is an uncommon sight.

I couldn't help but wonder how this changers Chinese society. You might think I am being biased as a (lousy) older brother myself, but I think it's just as critical as any other relationship within the family. Each kind of sibling bond, whether sister-sister, brother-brother, or sister-brother, is important because they help shape our personalities. But what is a society that has few older brothers? Or few younger sisters? Or any siblings at all? I am not going to venture into psychology, but older brothers (at least good ones) provide a male role model for their siblings, just as older sisters serve as female role models. All are siblings are part of our coming-of-age process.

In the US those of us without one kind of sibling-bond can look elsewhere in our family or friends for the kind of reinforcement we need, but what if there aren't any older brothers or sisters at all? In China cousins are typically referred to as brothers or sisters, but cousins usually aren't always around, though extended family is usually close-knit. In most households grandparents take care of the child while the parents work, so a lot of time is spent with grandma or grandpa, but as entertaining as mahjong, knitting, or poker is, sometimes you just want to play with someone your own age, which is something not all Chinese youth have outside of school. Boredom and isolation is a common phenomenon among Chinese youth, especially those from one-child families, who turn to the internet and World of Warcraft for amusement, which lead to problems like this. A brother or sister is an invaluable playmate and confidant you can rely on when you are young.

Now excuse me as I prepare for my sister's rebuttal.
Leb Wohl.

The Sewer at the Center of the World

The Yangzi is dirty, really dirty. That's what I noticed when I took a cruise on it with 3 of the other teachers. A boat trip through the Three Gorges area is a standard Chinese vacation. If you're like us and like to ride cheap, you get on a small, rusty ferry-like vessel and spend 3 nights sweating profusely in a four-person cabin with a Chinese toilet that produces wonderful smells. The river is completely brown and profuse with garbage. Paradise on earth.

That toilet started a ruckus the moment we saw it. You see, a western toilet had been a selling point for the entire trip, and once realized the lack thereof, the arguments started and our booking agent, "Jimmy" Yin bolted. It turned out we had gotten some bad information from certain parties and Jimmy wasn't really at fault, which I told him when I caught up to get the room key. However, Jimmy did manage to put us at the immediate fore section of the ship, so the 4 biggest people on the boat were occupying the smallest room.

It was nice to wake up that first morning, drenched with sweat because they turned the AC off at 11 and ponder the misery that we had shelled out 5oo Yuan for. That first day, walking up this silly historical-theme-park tourist-trap "ghost mountain" thing, I felt like a human faucet. Gradually I began to adapt to the discomfort. I stole some deck chairs from the "entertainment" deck and we passed the time reading on the foredeck, where there was a breeze...when the ship was moving. Aside from a Korean couple, and a Chinese-American family from San Francisco, we were the only foreigners on the voyage. The Chinese passengers busied themselves doing laundry, playing cards, drinking beer, and eventually stripping to their waist.

This explains a lot.

The cruise took us through some empty, dingy towns and some pretty "meh" tourist attractions. On the third day we reached the gorges. The first was quite astounding, but short, and the second two equally majestic, but more of the same. The real treats were the "Lesser" Gorges, which we reached by taking a smaller boat up another river. The water turned green and blue and the cliffs came closer as the river narrowed. When we stopped at the beginning of the 3rd "Lesser," Sean and I decided to blow 10 Yuan on "smart water" from a "wise spring" up on the cliff face. We later boarded a smaller skiff which took us further up the narrowest part of the gorge while the boatswain sang unintelligible river songs and the tourists took action shots wearing traditional fisherman's garb at the front of the boat.

We reached the dam--the massive monstrosity which supposedly made the Gorges less beautiful--on the last day for a tour which disappointingly did not take us inside the behemoth. It was smaller than I expected.

Leb Wohl.

War On Chinglish

...if you must

The last few weeks of my faculty class ended up having a lot to do with translation. This was largely due to the head of the Translation Department, Ms. Liao, attending my class, and she kept giving me material on Chinglish (Chinese-English) that she wanted me to lecture on. Eventually I decide to just make translation the last "unit" of the semester.

It turned out to be the most interesting and revelatory theme I had ever taught. The students were a hodgepodge of different levels of English, so they were always difficulty to teach, but Chinglish was one thing they all could understand and enjoy equally. Having them "correct" municipal and commercial signs was an excellent interactive activity, and some of the zanier examples I found online (engrish.com) amused them. The Chinglish lecture I gave at WEB hadn't gone nearly as well, I think because some were ashamed or offended by the topic. In the faculty class Ms. Liao was concerned about the impression incorrect English made to foreigners, but no one took it personally. Apparently businesspeople have a different opinion of it than teachers--perhaps because it brings back bad memories of foreign business partners laughing at signs when they are shown around the city.

I explained to to the class that in my opinion public signs are usually not so crucial that they must be absolutely correct standard English and that in fact, one thing foreigners love about China is Chinglish. We also discussed how correcting the English would destroy part of the meaning. Much Chinglish is created by literally translating the Chinese phrases which traditionally more verbose for poetic effect. For example metaphor and personification are often used, as in "the grass is sleeping." In translating the signs into correct, modern English, something valuable is "lost in translation" (Yes, and I showed that movie too).

Still, I understood that the Chinese don't want to be laughed at, so we tried to think of a compromise that saved both art and face. My solution was to make signs grammatically correct but leave them wonderfully strange. For example, one such sign states: "The grass is growing. Think about step into." The entire wording is strange, but only the second sentence is grammatically incorrect. I would change it to "The grass is growing so please think before stepping on it." Unnecessarily wordy and awkward, but the Chinese-ness is intact. Simply using "Keep off the grass" would lose the cultural value.

The topic went well beyond class. Ms. Liao recruited me for an ongoing project that the department was doing for the local government. Two of the other teachers had already spent a day correcting signage for them. You can read Dan's Wall Street Journal report about it at http://blogs.wsj.com/chinarealtime/2010/06/30/silver-collars-and-no-talls-in-disorder-changing-chinglish/ . Ms. Liao kept bringing me examples and wanted me to confirm that her corrections were sound. Sometimes she had come up with several options and wanted me to pick the best one. Later I realized that some of revisions I was checking were not hers but my colleague's.

The grass is smiling. Please go around.

Then last Monday I accompanied her, some students, a news producer, and a cameraman to Hong Mei Park for what turned out to be the filming of a Changzhou news special. In order to assist the city, students from our school and Nanjing Normal University had teamed up to document more Chinglish signage and discuss the corrections. Apparently I had been assisting the project the entire time and was named one of the "leaders." We went around the park and I explained to the camera what I thought was wrong and needed to be changed about various examples of municipal Chinglish, such as "Challenger on water" (bumper boats) "Lofty mountainsand flowing water," and "Pay attention to safety. Beware of Falling Into Water."

Naturally I was careful not to eliminate the Chinglish entirely. It is my opinion that the signs do not need to be concise or natural-sounding as long as the meaning is reasonably obvious, and most Chinglish does get its point across, if in a very strange way. Of course park signs like "no speeling," which make no sense of all, must be remedied--perhaps by placing another sign next to it that translates the non-word into whatever they were trying to say ("spilling, spelunking, etc.) Many, including embarassed Chinese businessmen, would probably disagree with me, but if they are so serious about eliminating the chuckles then businesses and governments should hire a good translator rather than rely on computer programs that directly translate every word. Of course maybe they did and those translators had a sense of humor like me...and thus Chinglish was created.

But I'll be darned if I help destroy an art form.

Leb Wohl.

The Ascent Part II: The Ascent

Getting from from the Terracotta Warriors to Huashan wasn't easy. The touts who gave us advice did so with half-truths--we went in the general direction, but the route was never direct. Buses in China rarely take the most convenient route, often going down beat-up dirt roads in obscure villages. Sure, it would make sense if someone actually got off the bus in the little podunk towns, but that almost never happened either. I suspect it was a way to avoid the toll highways.

I was growing impatient, thinking that we had missed the mountain or were going the wrong way, but I was proven wrong again when we arrived in the town at the base. The place reminded me of the town at Angkor--completely tailored to the tourist crowd, like Disney, but uglier. We found the hotel responsible for our room on the mountain. By then it was already 9:30 pm, and we knew the climb would be long. The concierge apparently expressed some skepticism about us going up then, but I was eager to make the climb. We ate some quick dumplings down the road and then set off.

The path started from a gate a little ways above downtown, up a street lined with vendors selling maps and other essential Huashan climbing gear like flashlights, mittens, and commemorative ribbons (explained later). And we we would not be travelling alone. My guidebook had told me that many of the locals enjoyed making the night climb, but I had not expected so many people.

The path was level and well-lit at first, instilling a false sense of ease. Then there was a small incline, then a larger one, and then a larger one. Then we reached the first marker, which congratulated us on having completed Phase 1. That was about 45 minutes after we had begun, and there were at least 5 markers. Eventually the steep inclines turned into steps; Endless steps interspersed by snack and tea stands. And so began the general routine of climbing: Series of steps, exhaustion, tea, series of steps, exhaustion, tea. After the 3rd marker I lost complete track of where we were. Smaller ones along the way told us how far we had come, but I couldn't remember how far we had to go. At first I felt certain we could make it to the hotel room in time and rest for a bit before dawn, but as the hours went by I knew we would be lucky if we made it to the top before the sun came up.

The further we went up, the more crowded the path became as people slowed down to pace themselves and navigate the steeper and more dangerous steps. The whole path was a long staircase now. You could stop on some ledges to rest, but it was hard to stop and start again. The mountain was usually well-it, but often their was only a flimsy chain handrail between you and the sheer drop on your left. And when we came to a dark stretch I found myself using the little gloves I had earlier mocked, crawling on all fours and trying not to die. It reminded me of the Endless Stair you had to take to get into Mordor. At one point we found ourselves wedged in a long vertical crevice during a traffic jam. There was zero space between people and I kept wondering what would happen if someone in front lost their grip on the chain. People shouted "Zou Zou" (Go Go).

Occasionally I could look back and see the lights of the city down behind us. It was more heartening than looking up at the string of lanterns that marked our path. Each time I looked I could swear I saw the peak at the end of the staircase, but ledge after ledge that peak never got closer, probably because what I saw was only a bend or a twist in the side of the mountain, a false hope. Climbers started dropping like flies. Girlfriends complained. Middle-aged men started pulling up there shirts. On one wider landing many had settled down to sleep and some even pitched tents.

Eventually the trees disappeared and we were surrounded by the brightest stars I had ever seen in China. We had reached the North Peak at about 2:3o am. The East Peak, were supposedly the the sunrise would be prettiest, was across the mountain and further up. After a rest we kept hiking, though the way was no longer straight: paths ran off to different sides of the mountain and to other temples and hotels. Several times we followed the wrong group and ran into dead ends. But an hour and a half later we came to a steel staircase a cliff. Up that staircase and a little ways further was the massive rocky protrusion that formed the East Peak. It was then 4 am. We were lucky to get there when we did, since space was limited. We huddled near the single-rope barrier that divided the "safe" area from the side of the mountain, which was a sheer cliff. In the hunt for space several people went beyond the rope, only to squeeze back in when a guard walked along the perimeter every few minutes to enforce "safety regulations."

Dawn was obscured by an annoying layer of cloud, but as it crept up it unveiled the white and green monstrosity that we had ascended. Huashan and the surrounded range were rocky and harsh, but beautiful. I suddenly realized that in any given moment during the entire climb I had no grasp on were I was in relation to were I had been and were I was going. Our altitude was always anywhere between sea level and wherever the heck the mountain ended, if it even did.

Though the last third of the way up I was hovering on the edge of exhaustion, the need to get to the top before dawn keep me from going over. But once the sun had risen and we got our fill of the view, it was time to find our hotel for the 3-hour nap that our schedule then allowed. At that point fatigue hit me and my legs became dead weights for the hike down. Finding the hotel took forever as Yun Yun argued over the phone with the staff about directions. When we did hobble up the final staircase and into the rough-looking inn about 6:30 am, demanding beds immediately, the caretaker gave us a funny look but acquiesced.

After our rest and quick breakfast of instant noodles, we left the dirty lodge and began our descent amidst the throngs of elderly and (you guessed it) western tourists who had waited to take the cable car up. Between the peaks I left the ribbon that I had worn as a headband that had words praising the mountain and good health. Like everyone else who left a ribbon on the mountain (nearly everyone) I made a wish.

The sun had reached the mid-morning mark and we could marvel at the vistas that we had missed in the night. At the same time, being able to see clearly made things a lot more frightening--there were many more drops than I had thought. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves...

Xi'an--The Ascent Part I: Les Liasons Dangereuses

From: Li Yang, Minister of Provincial State Security, Shaanxi Province

To: Zhang Rui, Director of State Security, Beijing

Sir, I recently received information from secure sources that an American national, PETER WARD YOUNGBLOOD, while vacationing in the province, made contact with PERSONS OF EXTREME INTEREST and KNOWN THREATS to STATE SECURITY and NATIONAL SOVEREIGNTY.

The PATTERN OF EVENTS are as follows:

9:47 AM--Youngblood left a hotel near the South Gate of the Xi'an Old City Wall with his LOVELY COMPANION, a Chinese National.

10:15 AM--Youngblood and Companion arrive at Xi'an train station. They converse with an tour attendant. The Companion complains that they only wish to see certain TOP CHINESE CULTURAL LANDMARKS, more specifically the TERRACOTTA WARRIORS AND HORSES. They board the tour bus. Observers note that they waited impatiently for the tour to leave.

10:49--The tour bus departs. While enroute the tour guide explains the GREAT AND PRAISEWORTHY HISTORY OF XI'AN and SHAANXI. Noteworthy excerpts were about the history of Emperor Qin Shi Huang, FIRST EMPEROR OF UNITED CHINA as well as the dramatic tales of LI SHAN MOUNTAIN, which Youngblood could not understand because his companion could not translate clearly. However, observers agree that when the guide asked the group how long it had taken Jiang Jie Shi (Chiang Kai Shek) to run up the mountain (10 minutes), Youngblood was surprised. Apparently he did not know that Jiang, the LOVED/HATED HERO/ENEMY OF CHINESE DEMOCRACY/SOCIALISM, had once run up this mountain to escape a NOBLE REVOLT by two of his generals who meant to force him to join forces with the GREAT MAO ZE DONG against the IMPERIALIST JAPANESE. Jiang eventually gave up his scheming and made the GREAT PATRIOTIC DECISION to FIGHT TOGETHER HARMONIOUSLY ending 10 years of war and repression.

11:30--Arrival at HUA QING HOT SPRINGS at the base of LI SHAN. Youngblood and Companion take the cable car up with the rest of the group. Upon arrival at the summit, they admire the MAGNIFICENT VISTAS and take pictures.

A Magnificent Vista

11:45--Tour Group begins descent. Youngblood keeps asking where Jiang is. He is unaware that Jiang died in Taiwan PROVINCE in 1975.

12:30--Youngblood and Companion stop at a booth. In they make contact with JIANG JIE SHI. Apparently our intelligence of his passing was in error. A female NATIONALIST soldier produces a uniform (obviously kept hidden until Youngblood's arrival). The meeting is short but his Companion and the NATIONALISTS takes many pictures, obviously for PROPAGANDA PURPOSES. Our operatives mark the location of Jiang's hideout. We attack at 06:00.

The Meeting

13:02--The tour departs the area, enroute to the next stop

13:37--Arrival at one of the ONE THOUSAND GREAT JADE FACTORIES OF SHAANXI. Youngblood and Companion express disinterest in the site. Apparently Youngblood had seen another JADE FACTORY outside BEIJING (OF EQUAL OR GREATER MERIT AND INTEREST I am sure, Mr. Director, please infer no offense directed at your province). Our observers last saw Youngblood and Companion arguing with the tour leader. Then they lost contact. Intel from the tour guide revealed that they had abandoned the tour, which they claimed was too slow, and had caught a taxi to see the Bing Ma Yong (TERRACOTTA ARMY OF WARRIORS AND HORSES).

14:20--Contact reestablished at TERRACOTTA ARMY. Targets wander about the TERRACOTTA ARMY COMMERCIAL VILLAGE and enter at 14:40. Apparently they had received advice that viewing the excavation halls in opposite order (2-3-1) was more favorable.

This office must admit, Director, that this suggestion was sound. Our observers remarked that by starting with the largely-unexcavated, largely-ruined halls in #2 gave them a feeling of what the location looked liked mere days after the site was discovered by a WAYWARD BUT PATRIOTIC FARMER digging a well. #3 contained upright and restored warriors guarding what is thought to be an officers mess hall, an preview of what was to come. #1, the main hall astounds viewers with a full army lined up in formation for war. Youngblood seemed very interested in the ongoing work and excavations, and commented about the difficulty of putting all the pieces back together. Apparently he is unaware of our ARCHEOLOGICAL DILIGENCE AND EFFICIENCY. Our observers had difficulty tracking Youngblood as so many of the visitors to the site looked similar.

Admiring Culture

16:35--The targets pick up their effects (which regretfully had not been searched) at the entrance of the site, and then proceed to the buses. After some argument and discussion with the drivers, they choose one going to the town of Wei Nan. From what we could ascertain their next destination was Hua Shan mountain.

We attempted to track them on their way, but I admit, Director, navigating my GREAT PROVINCE can be difficult. Shaanxi people are Generous AND HARMONIOUS, but not always best-informed on the MOST EXPEDIENT ways to get places. Thus the bus route involved too many complications for successful following.

22:04--We attempt to intercept them in the town of Hua Yin at the base of Hua Shan, but we were too late: Targets had already begun the ASCENT under cover of darkness.

End Report and Leb Wohl.