Opening Up

During my time abroad, I've had a considerable transformation in what I will and will not eat. There have also been a few common foods that I haven't had the opportunity to try since I finally stopped being picky. To show you how picky I was and how adventurous I've become, I present to you a list of the things I've either tried for the first time or finally started to enjoy. I've ordered them from what I deem to be the most to the least picky as compared to the general population.

Oranges, Tomatoes, Cucumbers, Celery, Sweet Potatoes, Fish, Shrimp, Clams, Calamari, Pigeon Eggs, Frog, Duck Blood, Ox Tongue, Red Ants

In the future, once I have pictures, I'll write a little more about some of these encounters.

Adventures in Portable Sleep

I've just finished up my first two weeks of travel through Vietnam and Cambodia. Don't have pictures yet since the internet is pretty slow here. Should have a few to upload by the end of the week.

If you're feeling in the mood to offer critiques or comments, please email at chickentochinablog@gmail.com.

 

After a plesent sleep in a guest house in Siem Reap, we checked out and left our bags behind the check-in counter for the day. Tonight would be the first encounter with an overnight bus. Until 11pm, when the shuttle would come to retreive us from the hotel, we were left for the day to explore the city. The sun was hot and ever present. The only way to escape it was in the shade of trees which were few and far between. After several hours of walking and dripping in sweat and covered in dirt, it was time for the shuttle. The downside of overnight travel is that generally you're looking at two to three days of dried sweat and caked on dirt before the next shower.

During our shuttle ride, my travel companion and I joked that the bumpy and uncomfortable ride was actually our overnight bus. Upon first laying eyes on our bus, I realized there was little, if any, difference between the quality of the two vehicles. Tonight would be a long night.

When it comes to overnight buses, instead of seats, there are beds. These beds are split into three rows with two aisles. The beds are also set up in the manner of bunks so if you're on the bottom space is rather limited. Space becomes even more limited in the last set of seats where instead of aisles there are five beds across. I wouldn't have mentioned this back section of seats if it wasn't for the fact that this is where we got put. Even worse is that of the two tickets we had, we randomly chose which seat we got and my friend lucked out with the window seat.

Before continuing I must make note of the peculiarities of me and sleep. Excluding typical things on this bus trip that would prevent most people from sleeping, there were a few more that prevented me from sleeping. Never in my life have I been able to fall asleep on my back, it's just not possible. Luckily for me, the beds were angled such that it would be impossible to sleep any other way besides on your back. Also, any sort of noise that isn't of the white variety tends to distract me from sleep. For this trip, such noises included crying babies and the squeaking of the bus.

Every journey I've ever taken starts out with a transition period in which people put away bags, munch on snacks, and settle down in their seats. For longer journeys, this period usually ends with the lights shutting off, people dozing off and silence and darkness taking over. Just because silence and darkness come to the bus doesn't mean it also comes to the rest of the world. In Vietnam, paved roads are uncommon which means that every space of every paved road is vital and lacking of periods fields or forest, in other words, periods of calm. This translates to a constant barrage of lights and sounds coming from all the different buildings lining the road.

Severely lacking within the bus was a constant barrage of cold. The air conditioning vents were designed with only the outer most people receiving direct air. Maintenance of the bus was kept to a bare minimum so even though air was coming out, it was sputtering and not a formidable opponent to the body heat of all the occupants. While I'm a seasoned pro, having survived many summer nights without AC, I did so with the use of two vital weapons, a fan and a bed big enough to spread out to the four corners. Windows without openings crushed any chance of a breeze. There would also be no spacing out since my fellow travelers and I laid shoulder to shoulder. Without a means by which to cool myself, sweat began to emit itself from every part of my body. A secondary attack, almost like a Trojan Horse, lay hidden within this. The sweat off all the other unwashed bodies began to mix and linger in the air, assaulting the nostrils.

The final battle against attempts at sleeping came without mercy. Back in elementary school, I strongly remember the daily rush for the back seat so that every bump of the road could be enjoyed. There were two spots along the route where the bump would send you several inches into the air. It was almost like a free amusement park ride. Multiply the bumps and divide the fun and thats what the bus felt like. There was also an added perk not found on the school bus. Since my bed transitioned straight into the aisle, every time the bus driver slammed on the breaks, which was often since scooters were weaving everywhere, I went sliding forward several inches. If it wasn't for the uncomfortable columns of bars keeping the second layer of beds up, that I used to brace myself, I probably would have slid fully into the aisle several times. 

The combined onslaught on the senses led me to to give up any hope of a peaceful sleep. Packets of resistance throughout the night tried to make a stand and allow me to sleep. Different positions were tried. Music, silence, and white noise were all attempted. A strong ressistance came late in the night when another bed opened up and the guy in the middle bed, the bed next to me, relocated. The metal divider between our two beds dictated that this situation was barely any more comfortable. In the end, all attempts to sleep failed.

In the process fo writing this, I'd been sitting on a train from Da Nong to Hanoi. When I bought the tickets I saw that the train would depart at 11:50am and arrive 7 hours later. This was long but doable. After about five hours on the train I pulled out the map and realized we'd traveled about one-fifth the distance. Looks like the 7 hours later was actually 7am. Oh well, everyone is still celebrating the holiday  and the train is empty so we can stretch out in our hard wooden chairs and sleep peacefully. Twenty minutes later we pulled up to a crowd of people waiting to get on the train. 

I was going to conclude with some joke about bringing enough sleeping pills next time to knock out even an elephant. Instead I'll end with some words of wisdom from a good friend which I'm taking to heart more and more each day.

Shit happens.

Content with the Contents

In the months leading up to my departure date, I spent much of my free time reading of potential destinations and things to do at each place. At some point in my research I realized that I had given no consideration to the logistics involved. One thing I had given no consideration to yet was my packing list. Your typical trip involves one city with suitcases left in the hotel for the length of the vacation. My trip however involves multiple cities and one backpack that would contain my life for the duration of my travels. One day while doing my exploring the Internet for travel information I stumbled upon a backpacking suggestions website decided this was a great place to start and my list was underway.

Since it is my first trip and I'm rather meticulous when it comes organization, I read every last bit about the website. I read of the great debates plaguing backpackers including things like what kind of socks to bring, malaria medicine, and jeans or no jeans. I ended up dismissing most of the information offered by the website. Who really wants to spend $10 on a pair of over the top socks when a simple pack brought from Kohls will do me just fine? Maybe I'll find out the answer is me after I've been traveling for a month.

While not using most of the website, I did manage I walk away with a suitable list. In my free time I stumbled upon a few more tips that helped improve my packing list. Firs tip I came across was if you don't use it at home, why would you use it abroad? Good point. So I crossed a few items off my list. Second tip is that you can buy anything abroad. When I first came to China, I brought a lot of excess toiletries which could be bought at any store. Except deodorant. I went to about eight stores and two online stores and nothing. Chinese people don't sweat, who knew? Third tip and I think is the most important which comes from me this time. (Woah) Don't get lost in the details. Get a rough list and go. You'll thank me later.

Every Day is an Adventure

Every morning I wake up at about 7:20. This gives me about 15 minutes to be fully prepared before heading out the door. I walk for a few minutes and take subway line 2, to 7, to 1, to 5 with roughly five minute transfer walk in between. Then I exit the metro, walk another fifteen minutes, and arrive at work an hour and a a half later. I do this twice a day, every day. Why you ask? Because I wanted the city but my company wanted the suburbs. Luckily I utilize this time to read, practice Chinese, play games, or sleep. One day I instead of my usual time passers, I decided to bring a camera to highlight some of the interesting things I see on my daily commute. 

These are x-ray machines that you're supposed to place your bags in. Most people ignore them and the security guards don't seem to care.

TVs in the metro stations. There are also smaller versions in the trains.

Too much reflection to fully express this picture. This right here I would consider the normal amount of people for a train. Seats fully taken with a lot of people standing.

Had to be sneaky for this. For 66% less than a taxi fare, these guys will give you rides on their motorcycles to work. They generally drive like maniacs. Took me several months but I finally took a ride. 

I think the irony of this picture is lost in the small size. The background says no dumping into the water.

It's interesting where you find houses in China. This road is completely full of factories except for this house, if you can even call it that. If you look close enough a kid is peeing on the street.

If you're a Shanghai resident than you can use these bikes. Being a resident of a city isn't quite the same in the United States. I'm not sure of the exact requirements but of the 22 million people living in China, 9 million are not residents. 

One of the paths I walk along to work.

What is the Next One?

My time in China is quickly coming to an end. Friday I turn in my laptop and work ID, Sunday I hand over my room key, and Wednesday I am on a plane to Cambodia. Since I will no longer be living in Shanghai, my writing will begin to reflect that. I have however opened an exciting new page and will spend the next few months experiencing South East Asia. My hope is that these experiences will be just as rewarding as my time in Shanghai and I can share them with you.

Veering Away

One would think that upon satisfying a craving, the craving would cease to exist. In regards to travel, however, I think the opposite is happening. Instead of feeling content with China, I want more, lot more.

The first question that had to be answered was, when?

My plan was to travel with my one willing friend so as to avoid making my first international trip alone. His work schedule required that the trip occur during the one week of vacation for Chinese New Year. By adding an extra five days, this would constitute a sufficient amount of time for our journey. And so, the seed of the plant that would satisfy my travel craving was born.

The next question was where?

Originally, my mission was to plan a trip to Spain that would keep me occupied, sheltered, and fed. I started Spanish several years ago in high school and desired to keep learning. The best way, in my opinion, to make the transition from China to Spain would be across the Trans-Siberian Railway. The trip would start in Beijing and end in Moscow, stopping along the way at several cities in China, Mongolia, and Russia. From Russia, I would take more public transportation to get across Europe. It would be a two week journey along the railway and this suited the when part of the trip perfectly.

I utilized my connections in China to try and locate a position in Spain. In my pursuit, however, I stumbled upon news claiming that unemployment within Spain for people around my age was sitting at about 50%. Regrettably, such news led me to dismiss the idea of traveling to Spain in the near future.

The final killing blow for a Trans-Siberian trip came upon learning that winter temperatures in Russia reach a staggering -40 degrees Fahrenheit. The idea of spending two weeks wearing several layers and retreating inside as soon as the sun decides to hide for a brief moment did not sound appealing at all.

So it was back to square one. Some time was spent getting lost in the world map. I gave consideration to places like Australia, Japan, Tibet, and South East Asia. The final decision of South East Asia came down to unexciting things like costs and visas so I’ll spare you that process.

The problem with South East Asia is that it isn’t just one destination but a collection of many destinations. Southeast Asia is made up of countries including Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, Thailand, Burma, Malaysia, Singapore, and Indonesia. To decide where to go, we did as engineers do, and approached the situation as a puzzle. Where should we start and end our journey so that our flight would not be missed? How would we spend the optimal amount of time seeing each new location? After contemplating this complicated puzzle, we managed a plan. Our trip would start in Phnom Penh with some travel within Cambodia and then east to Ho Chi Minh and north through Vietnam to Hanoi. We would cross the China border together and then we would part ways with him returning to work and me making my way through China back to Shanghai.

I took it upon myself to plan an itinerary. I visited Wikitravel and read every page they had to offer about Vietnam and Cambodia. From all the places we could visit, I narrowed the plan down to a simple route that could be finished in the time allotted. The only part missing was how to return to China. As I looked at the map I realized that if I turned west in Hanoi in the direction of Laos and Thailand, instead of returning to China, a whole new world of possibility opened up. And what did I do? I turned to the west.

Jia you chao ren!

Within weeks of my arrival in Shanghai, I was informed that there would be a half marathon occurring in early December and it would be nice if I attended. Feeling that I could totally run 13.2 miles to complete a half marathon, I began training. I managed to run two to three times a week averaging about two to three miles for each run. 

About two months into training, I went out for my usual nightly run. When I’m running, I do so rather absentmindedly, making each turn without thought. As I rounded corner after corner, I noticed that a man on a bike seemed to be keeping pace with me. To double check, I sped up and so did he, I slowed down and he again followed suit. A plan formed in my head to beat him. Obviously this was not an achievable goal but I decided to push myself to the limit anyway. I finished a mile run in the six to seven minute range which I’d never been close to achieving before. 

The next day I decided to time myself to see just exactly what my limit was. Off I went on my run. It was just a typical night with a little weaving between people and cars due to my increased speed. I kept watch on the time and was very pleased with my rate. As I came up to the last corner I pushed it into overdrive, determined to impress myself. I reached the corner, hit a rough patch of dirt, twisted my ankle, and fell into a pile on the ground. I got back up, limped home, and proceeded to be overly dramatic about my injury and ran once in the next four months. 

With the lack of exercise looming over my head, the registration date for the half marathon decided it was a good time to make itself known. With still a month and a half left for me to train, I decided to register. And so I ran a few times and then got on a plane for a three week vacation to America. Take a guess what I didn’t do a whole lot of in America. 

While at home one night my sister decided a run was in order for her half marathon in a few months. Against my lazier judgment, I decided to join her. What started as an easy two mile run turned into me pushing my limit again and running seven and a half miles. My longest run at that point in time was about three and a half miles. This made me confident that maybe I could in fact complete a half marathon. 

In a matter of moments I was on the plane again to China. I sent a text to my friend announcing my return and he inquired back if I was ready for the marathon this Sunday. This Sunday… ha ha ha. I’d managed to run about four times in the last three months and the marathon was this Sunday. I mustered up the willpower to run two more times to “prepare” for the half marathon. 

At first I decided to exclude this next portion but of course, there’s never a dull moment in China and this is without exception. Friday night was check-in and gear pickup. The rest of the people I came with had registered in person so it was off by myself to find online registration. I got my number and went to pick up my stuff. As I walked and looked at the numbers I came to the realization that I was registered for a full marathon. I clearly remember scoffing at the idea of me running a full marathon when registering so clearly this was a mistake, an easily fixable mistake. Wrong. With the general flexibility of China, I assumed a quick switch was in order. That day, for whatever reason, insurance said “no, this is not possible” and therefore no switch is allowed. After ten minutes of tense discussion in Chinese and walking from booth to booth, it was decided, not officially of course, that I would run as the guy in our group who had paid his fee but could not run. No complaining if I fall and break my leg or something along those lines. Whelp. 

If it wasn’t already shameful enough that I’d probably get about half way through and fall over from exhaustion, it was requested that I wear a costume. I mulled the idea over in my head, not quite excited at the prospect of looking like a complete and utter mess. Against my better judgment, and since my friend was going as Spiderman, I ventured out Saturday afternoon to a costume shop and found myself presented with a pretty limited selection. In the end I decided with Superman, cape and all. As a note, bargain always. I didn’t realize until later on like a stupid laowai(foreigner), that I got suckered into paying about $30 for something that a Chinese person would pay $5 for. 

Saturday night consisted of a rather uneventful pasta dinner along with booking my ticket to Cambodia for vacation (maybe I lied). Thanks to jetlag still hanging around, I was asleep by 9:30. This also made getting up at 5:30 that much easier. I got dressed, walked out into the living room and laughed that I was the first one awake. Then I checked the time, smacked my head, and went back to bed for another hour. 

After an hour nap, I returned to the living room to find the others getting ready. Spiderman would be concealing his identity until the start of the race, then donning a mask and staying anonymous for the duration of the race. This was somewhat frustrating as Superman just has a stupid hair curl that somehow hides his identity. I possessed no such curl and therefore was going to be known no matter what. Deciding that a good confidence boost was in order, I wore the costume with false pride from the apartment door to the end of the race. 

Typically as a foreign white person in China, I tend to stick out and get a few inquisitive stares on the regular. I’ve gotten comfortable with this and tend not to notice unless I’m actively trying to catch people staring, which I sometimes do when I’m bored. Today though, I felt the eyes of everyone on the subway. Upon arrival at our subway stop, we remained at the exit as this was easier to locate our friends instead of trying to walk through the massive crowd of runners. This involved watching group after group pass by as they were released from the train. It was almost like a safari where groups would pass by, stare at the wild creature, take a picture, and continue on. 

Maybe you think of my example as an exaggeration. You’re wrong. People did in fact take pictures. Some were secretive and I would catch them out of the corner of my eye. Others would try and catch me without looking and then run away once eye contact was made. This bothered me somewhat but I tried to be a good sport about it since it’s not everyday Superman stops to run a half marathon. 

We remained stationary for about fifteen or so minutes. During this time I started counting the amount of pictures being taken of me. At this point, the count was already up to ten. About this time, the first person asked to take a picture with me. This picture brought a genuine smile to my face and managed to destroy a large chunk of insecurity present within my head. Finally, our group had assembled and we emerged from the subway. 

I was greeted by 25,000 runners, their fans, security, event organizers, and anyone else who ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. One cannot quite comprehend what such a large number of people looks like until you see it. With this large number came an equally large number of cameras and I gave up attempting to count the pictures being taken of me. 

Finally, Peter Parker decided to transform and Spiderman and Superman got to hang out together. We walked along to drop our bags off, stopping about every minute to pose for a photograph. As we made our way through the crowd, I realized I’d been tricked, or maybe I just didn’t know marathons very well. Nobody else was wearing any resemblance of a costume. However, contained within one opening of the crowd stood two Johnny Depp Characters, one from Pirates of the Caribbean and the other from Alice in Wonderland. Of course a picture was in order. 

As we stood counting down the minutes to the start of the race, it dawned on me just how stupid running a half marathon was with no training. However, I had invested about $60 in this race and I was already here, might as well suck it up and go for as long as I can. The race got underway with a walk for the first several minutes followed by a light jog as each runner got a chance to stretch out. I must say that I’m disappointed that I didn’t bring my camera, but that was probably for the better in the end. The first turn of the race saw the road corkscrew up one level and then straightening out into a massive bridge. The corkscrew itself was rather wide and you could see almost all the way around it and the entirety of it was covered in people. What an awesome sight to see. 

The next seven miles was filled with packets of people dressed in decorative outfits, shouting “jia you,” words of encouragement to keep running. Every so often I would hear a shout of “Superman!” and I’d throw up the peace sign, as is typical of China, at least I think that’s the proper response anyway. Some runners would run ahead of me, stop and take a picture, shout a quick thank you and continue on. Others would inquire as to why I was running to the finish line and not simply flying. This kept my spirits up and I chugged along. 

Every now and then I’d hear a person talking and attempt to eavesdrop with my limited Chinese knowledge. I heard one man say “chou yan” which is the verb to smoke a cigarette. I shook my head in disapproval wondering how a runner could smoke a cigarette now. I paid it no more mind and kept running. 

Seven and a half miles came and went and now it was time to almost double my longest run ever and finish. As is typical with my runs, the mental struggle began at about this point. I was impressed that I’d managed this far without thoughts of “Walk, who cares, WALK!” filling my head. Determined to be the victor in that battle, I used the encouragement of the crowd to spur me on. As I tuned in to the crowd, I heard “jia you chou yan” several times in quick succession and almost felt motivation, except I didn’t. Why were they encouraging me and talking of smoking cigarettes? Oh. It took me only eight miles to realize that the man talking of smoking cigarettes was actually saying “chao ren,” or as the English say it, Superman. 

As I continued to keep my mind distracted, I observed my surroundings. We we’re now zigzagging through the area that had once contained the World Expo of 2010. Every building, representative of a different country, had beautiful and unique architecture. What a sight this must have been in 2010. Today all that remains is empty buildings and vacant lots. 

My mind had recruited my stomach to take part in the battle to get me to walk. I noticed empty Snickers wrappers scattered on the ground. Oh how I could go for a snickers right now, or anything that wasn’t the sugared iced tea or water that I’d been given thus far at the refueling stations. With my snap back in to reality, I came across the next refueling station which lacked anything new besides another kilometer marker. At this point I had made it 17km or roughly 10.6 miles and more thoughts started to fill my head. Just about every body part involved in running was screaming for a break but I hadn’t given in yet and I continued on. 

Sadly, I only made it until the 19km marker or 11.8 miles and finally I had to stop. As I walked, most likely due to being dressed as Superman, I received lots of words of encouragement in both English and Chinese from my fellow runners. I gave it all my might to push on but my body said no. I’d noticed other runners stretching along the way so I decided that’d be a good idea. Five seconds later I realized that thought was wrong. A horrible pain shot through my leg, similar to the pain when you’re sitting in an awkward position and all of a sudden you’re flying into the air to get the pain to stop. 

And so I walked. Eventually a man, instead of offering a few words of encouragement and moving on, stayed with me and wouldn’t move on. I looked ahead and saw the finish line and decided to suck it up, if only for another two minutes. Except sucking it up was no small feat. At this point, the lack of training was painfully obvious. It was as if the muscles in the back of my legs near my knees had shortened by a few inches and refused greater leg movements than a slow crawl. But I continued on, cursing every step. Feet from the finish line, I raised my hands up in that typical way that Superman does, and I crossed that finish line. 

Now to locate anybody I knew, while lacking a phone, money, or a grasp of the Chinese language. I moved with the crowd of finished runners. Stuck in one line to collect my certificate, another for food, and another to return my running chip and then I was out into the masses of runners to find my friends. Luckily, within a few minutes I stumbled upon a friend with a phone and we were reunited with the group. 

We collected together to take some more pictures. Even more Chinese people stopped to take pictures of and with me. I’d thought every muscle in my body was tired already but then I started to feel pain in my face. Who knew your face could hurt from smiling too much? I wonder if celebrities practice exercising their smiling muscles. Tired of smiling and posing, off came Superman and I returned to my human.