Home from the holidays

Thank God, I am home. And my legs still hurt.

One five-hour visit to a hot springs bath, two massages and three days later, my calves still hurt. It’s incredible.

Huangshan was really beautiful. I’m told they’re the prettiest mountains in China, and I can buy that. My traveling companion and I hiked for two days. The last six kilometers were DOWN the mountain. It wasn’t a trail so much as really, really steep stairs that switched back. There were so many stairs that once we got to level ground my legs couldn’t handle it. Days later, I am still tight.

The area is a UNESCO site and the stairs (and guardrails) have been added by the government (I guess) so people can climb safely and without damaging the mountain. I was really glad for them, especially when we were up early watching the sunrise on a peak. Although the place is a popular tourist site, it was pretty much dead except for then. Then, we were out there with a whole bunch of people pushing and shoving to vie for a good sunrise-watching spot.

That was annoying. My camera is pretty lame and I knew I couldn’t capture it, and I just wanted to enjoy the moment, not keep it forever. But there were so many people pushing and shoving that I couldn’t just hang and watch.

Anyway, I am home now until 2015. 

Happy New Year!

A Christmas miracle

So this is what happened this week: I had a genuine Christmas miracle. I got up Monday morning and looked in the mirror and one of my necklaces was gone. I immediately got sick to my stomach. 

I have two, a gold one and a silver one. The gold is a cross in a heart. I really like it. The silver is just a heart. I like it. But the gold one, a guy gave it to me. The silver one belonged to my grandmother. Bottom line, grandmother outranks guy. And that's the one that was missing. 

 

I had a pang of panic, but after it passed, I thought I wouldn’t have any trouble finding it.

All I did on Sunday was go to a Christmas party. Other than that, I was in my house. I figured the necklace had broken during the night and was surprised it wasn't there. It wasn't on the floor, either. Anywhere. My apartment is fairly small, too.

 

I figured it must have come off somehow at my friend's house and figured I'd ask her, so I went about my normal routine. But panic – and nausea – kept growing. I mean, I was really, really sick to my stomach.

The only other thing I'd done was my hair, and I had rinsed it off in the tub. But considering I was watching the water the whole time, how could it have come off? And what if it had? Down the drain? I mean, really, I was physically ill about it. I thought I was going to throw up.

And I prayed about it, because I really wanted to find it. I figured it had to be at Vicki's, but was struck to check the tub. I popped up the drain thing and it came off easily. I didn't see anything but reached down and there it was, caught on some little drainer thing!

 

I pulled it out, figuring the chain had to have broken and the heart was still probably gone, but it wasn't. As in, the heart was still there and not only was the necklace not broken, the clasp was still clasping. I have absolutely no idea how it came off my head.

And at that point I was no longer sick to my stomach but practically sobbing in thanks and relief. Thank you, Jesus! 

 

I normally am not overly sentimental, but honestly, I really did go from feeling like I was going to toss my cookies to just crying in relief. My grandmother and her husband were divorced when my mom was maybe 5, and I never knew my grandfather at all. Indeed, it didn’t even occur to me that he existed until I was about 12 and learned of his death. But the little heart says “Ferndell” on the back of it. It’s a terrible name, but it’s the only thing I have with it on there.

 

So that was my miracle. I still can’t believe it.

And now, I am headed out to my little Christmas break. We were granted Friday off, too, so I figured I’d take advantage and go to Huangshan, or something like that. A friend is here temporarily and we’re going to explore this place.

It’s an hour and a half away, and it’s from a real airport. These photos are from a real airport, too, if you can believe that.

About two thirds of the way through the Bhutan trip, we flew back the route we’d spent about a total of 14 hours driving over several days. The flight itself took about 20 minutes and the plane sat that many, as well. It was only 90 miles.

The airport, Bumthang (seriously, it rhymes with Poon-tang), was smaller than a 7-11, and that included the control tower. It was unbelievable. The little lobby was the size of a living room, and the security check was a guy who just called us up to a table and went through our bags Our boarding cards were hand-written with no seat number.

We  could see the runway right out the window; it was closer than right field would be from home plate. And the “Welcome to” sign – on the runway – was written in the concrete.

My favorite was the “crash phone,” which was sitting by the sofa in the lobby

New this week: massages

So, in an excuse to post more Bhutan photos, I'll fill you in on my attempt at getting massages.

Last Saturday, one of my newer colleagues asked if I wanted to join her in going to a massage. I’d really been meaning to, so I went ahead.

All the trucks were personalized.

Really, it was a cross between a chiropractic treatment and physical therapy. Incredibly painful.

It was kind of funny because I speak no Chinese my friend does. My masseuse didn't try to talk to me but Vicki told me later he had talked with her masseuse about me. He told her I fell asleep.

I appreciated the edit. If you look closely, you can see it.

Hardly. I was trying not to scream! Oh, man. He did something on the lower left of my head/neck -- where my migraines originate from -- and I thought I was going to wind up paralyzed or blind. Seriously. The next day, it was tender to the touch.

I liked this flower box outside of a museum

Left hip -- which has bothered me for a few years -- same thing. I was almost in tears it hurt so bad. Massaging to the bone, I guess. And the pain went on for days, yet I returned on Tuesday for another.

That one left me bruised, for real. I have a fairly large (but not horse-throwing-me-off large) bruise on my butt, where she worked out some kinks. (I was told to not sit at a desk, which wasn’t really helpful.)

A heckuva tall tree, and very old.

They recommended I go a couple of times a week to get my neck and hip straightened out. And I don't think it's a load of bull. Anything that hurts that bad has to be good for you, right? I felt like the person was legit.

Some weird Buddhist ceremony. We stayed around four hours.

I’ve now had three, and yesterday’s wasn’t too bad. She (I’ve had the teacher guy once and two lower level women the next two times) spent quite a bit of time on my neck and shoulder again.

Lots of really funky and badly choreographed dancing.

My left shoulder has been a problem forever. I remember way back at Florida Law Weekly it being an issue. It’s just never been right, and the masseuses can definitely tell. Though my colleague, she basically asked what the heck I was doing with it, and then she moved it some very torturous ways. The right one, you can do the same thing and it’s fine, but the left one just hurts terribly.

Attempt to be artsy

I think for the New Year resolutions, I need to figure out how to utilize the free weights, or whatever would help, and get that into form. I need to do something.

Bhutan: Pretty hikes

Bhutan was gorgeous. The trip I signed up for was allegedly a “moderately active” trip, and I thought it would have more hikes than it did, but the few we had were really amazing.

The views from the mountains were breathtaking, and there really were mountains everywhere. The entire country is mountain or valley. Really, not a lot of just flat space, like, say, Florida or North Dakota. It was just up and down all the time.

This made for a lot of long road trips – we only visited a few cities that really weren’t that far apart, but sure seemed that way because it took hours.

 

The last place we stayed, we went the next morning to a temple that looked like I, or at least Roberto Auguayo, could have kicked a field goal to it. But it took 20 minutes to drive there.

So the hikes were pretty steep in some place and always yielded some cool views.

The first one, up to a temple of course, was through a bunch of rice terraces. These are different kinds of rice paddies, built into mountains. They’d harvested some, but mostly there were still rice stalks everywhere. Some cows, too. I really like cows. Sometimes they even pose for me.

 I’m saving the big hike photos for later, but we did a couple more. Up until the last one, I really did adhere to the “hiking is walking in the woods” theory, because that really is what we’d do. The bus would drop us off at the top of something, and we’d basically just walk down a beautiful path.

And stop along the way to take photos and pee behind bushes and trees, culverts or just – this was later in the trip and not me – just behind the bus. There are not a lot of rest area-type facilities in under-developed countries. Or toilet paper, so do what you have to do. (And I’ll stop on that subject here.)

Bhutan's national bird is the crow, and they were everywhere, too. Maybe not as much as the prayer flags, but their presence was really obvious. There were also some really weird looking birds, like the one in the cow photo. Someone had a book and we looked some of them up, but I don't really remember.

Remember going on a week’s vacation and having one 36-exposure roll of film? So glad those days are over. With digital photos, I find myself shooting boring stuff, and shooting the same thing over and over. It’s so much fun to shoot at different angles. You tend to get something you missed before.

I wind up with a lot of photos of water. I am definitely a water person. I love the rivers and waterfalls, and we had some of those in Bhutan. The one on this page was taken through a couple of fading prayer flags.

The thing is, they’re always so much prettier than the photos make them look. NatGeo will not be calling me for my photography skills. 

I did find some feature on my camera that said something about “brilliant color” or something like that, and I started using it. That helped, although I don't have any of those photos on this page.

  

The blue skies were amazing to me in Bhutan. Had I been still based out of North Dakota, it might not have been so, but I don’t see the actual sky much here in Guangzhou. And although I am sure Bhutan has its share of air pollution, it was a refreshing change of pace for me.

In non-Bhutan news, I am headed away for Christmas. A person I know from before is coming back to Guangzhou and we are going to go to Hangzhou, which looks by a quick Google search that it should yield some beautiful views as well. It’s an hour and a half flight from here, in the mountains around Shanghai.

My friend is a native Chinese speaker so I am hopeful we won’t get screwed on the accommodations or anything else like that. The plane ticket was fairly cheap – and really should put me into Delta medallion status category again – and although it’s four nights in a hotel, I don’t think it will be too horrible cost-wise.

So I will not be available to try to Skype anyone for the holiday. When I suggested it, I really thought we’d be leaving Christmas day and I’d still have Christmas Eve to call, etc., but there weren’t flights.

Speaking of, I am going to Frankfurt for Chinese New Year and once again, the dates we’re off have changed. Grr. I was already taking two days off to stay longer but now I have to take off three. And now I am just going to be hanging around on Wednesday. Our holiday had been scheduled to start Thursday and I was leaving that evening, so now I am just going to be bored at home for Wednesday, too.

Staying home. The horrors.

Back to Bhutan: the chortens

Not really up on my Buddhist terms, but I think these were the chortens. They are some kind of memorial to dead people.

They came in various sizes, and the biggie here had something like 108 of the individual things in the giant big thing, which was that lucky number.

This one, and I forget where we were, was at some pass, around 10,000 feet high. It was about the chilliest day we had, and up at that altitude, it was just exhausting and cool to have to climb up a million stairs to get the view of another temple.

And it was foggy, which meant we really couldn’t see the Himalaya, which was a bummer, but still. You’re there, and really, that’s awesome enough.

When a Buddhist comes across a chorten, they’re supposed to walk around it three times clockwise. It has something to do with luck, or something like that. Again, I wasn’t in it for the lessons in Buddhism. But I really liked the look of the old rock.

 They were everywhere, in several different styles. Inside the chortens, they have these little vial things that are filled with ashes of loved ones. Cremation things. It was really kind of gross when you thought about it, but very poetic at the same time.

We saw one on a little hike. It was a fairly cloudy day, but I noticed a sunbeam coming down. I snapped one photo and then realized if I backed up a bit, I could get it coming down on the chorten. I lined it up and took the photo and I swear it ranks up with the best I’ve ever taken.

It really did come out like I planned it, and that so rarely happens.

Back to Bhutan: the monkeys

Been really slow getting to the Bhutan photos. I still have a ton and am trying to group them.

And now I forget where we were, but at some crossroad, much like in Morocco near Azrou, there were monkeys in the road.

The little primate panhandlers knew how to play the crowd, that’s for sure. Our car slowed and they came out to give us little sorrowful looks.

The debut guy set the stage by spreading his legs and peeing. Quite impressive. 

And after that, they just hung around in the hopes people who throw them food, which many did.

The most “aww”-inspiring one was the momma with the baby. She had trouble moving fast enough to grab the food, but she did come away all right.

Worst beach vacation. Ever.

Two things I didn’t need on my quick weekend away at a beach: suntan lotion and a bathing suit.

It was awful. No sun the entire time.

The trip didn’t even meet my low expectations, which I’d set after figuring out that it wasn’t going to fulfill the initial goal. That had been to put me over on Delta miles. I was thisclose after getting my Bangkok ticket (I flew in and out of there to go to Bhutan).

The first leg of that trip put me within 982 miles of silver, so I figured the return trip would yield 544 miles (which is what the first leg gave me) and then I could do one quick weekend away – no time off – and reach silver for the first time since Peace Corps.

So I bought the cheapest flight I could find, to Hainan. It’s an island about a 50-minute flight away. I figured medallion status and the beach – how easy is that? I even got the hotel and pre-paid for it.

But then I never got the credit for the second leg of the Bangkok trip. In trying to figure out what happened. I realized Delta had re-jiggered the mileage program between my inbound and outbound flights and wasn’t going to qualify with this one more trip. Rats.

But still, it was a weekend at the beach? Seriously, how bad could it be?

Well, it was that bad. And then it just got worse.

Flight was an hour late, which isn’t a surprise with China Southern. Then the taxi driver had absolutely no idea where the hotel was, even thought I’d handed him the address and a map. He kept yelling at me and, since I speak no Chinese, I had no answer. I kept pointing to the map. I didn’t know what else to do.

He then kept indicating his phone, like he wanted me to call the hotel. I was like, dude, I gave you the map. Of course, it’s pointless of me to speak, just as it was pointless for him to yell at me, because neither one of us had any idea of what the other was saying.

Even before we left the airport, I realized it was going to be fruitless and tried to open the door. But he locked it and I couldn’t get out. Seriously.

He then took off, not in an abduction way but in a “I’m going to take your money” kind of way. He kept yelling at me and I had no understanding of what he was saying. He then called someone and handed the phone to me. The man on the other end spoke some English, but so accented that I had no idea of what he was saying..

I kept saying something like, “I don’t know. I gave him a map.” (The map indicated two straight lines, the address of the hotel in both English and Chinese, the fact it should only take 15 minutes and cost 60 RMB.) The man kept repeating something but I had no idea what. I kept trying to get out of the car, which was moving slowly, at this time.

We finally took off and the driver seemed to know where he was going, but kept trying to communicate with me. He did the phone thing again and we went through the same routine, but I finally figured out what I’d thought was “ATM” or “APM” (the latter being a metro line in Guangzhou, so it did mean something to me) was actually “Eighty.” He was trying to tell me what he was going to extort from me.

The guy on the line explained that the cab driver’s meter was broken and it would cost 80 RMB. Well, that was a crock of shit, and I knew it and knew the price was too expensive, so I agreed. At that point, what can you do?

And it was the weekend’s theme. The next cab I took, the hotel called for me, explaining that what would happen was the cab would start the meter in town, drive out to meet me and then take me wherever, effectively charging me double. This was standard practice, they said. And to boot, what happened was after all that, the guy said there was an additional additional charge for calling the cab in the first place.

I hate it. Just say, “You’re white and I perceive you to be rich. I am going to charge you more.” I know that’s what you’re doing, you know that’s what you’re doing. Don’t flipping lie to me. Your meter’s not broken, there is no additional charge, I am fully aware that the meter is supposed to start on 10 and not 25. I know you’re taking me on a circumvent way to get there.

Seriously, I don’t mind paying more. I just don’t like people thinking they’re pulling the wool over my eyes.

My third cab driver, I felt, was honest. But he really did get lost, taking me to the Sheraton instead of the Hilton. The Sheraton was clear on the other side of the island and this wasted not only an additional 60 RMB, but an hour of my life. I was close to tears at that point and the guy kept apologizing.

That was my only foray into the town, and it proved to be miserable. I wound up paying about $40 in cab rides for a $2 dinner.

The area is known for its sunshine. It purports to be sunny 90 percent of the time. Well, I never saw Mr. Sun. Instead, it was chilly, windy and it drizzled the entire time. Just gloom and doom.

The hotel was fabulous. A five-star Hilton, brand new, with its own beach. I slept in a comfy bed and woke up early and decided, despite the bluster, to take a walk on  the beach. And then I found more trash that I’d ever seen on a beach before.

You needed one flip flop, this was the place to be. Bottles, Styrofoam, bottles, shoes, fishing floats, plastic bags … you get the picture. Scenic it was not, but it was my highlight.

The second morning, I decided to make a game of it and hunt for a specific kind of bottle. Then, I figured, I’d fill it with sand to take home. Armed with that optimistic plan, I started out the door and realized the drizzle had been promoted to actual rain, deep-sixing the plan.

The hotel layout was resort-like. Something like three pools, but not a one inside. Beautiful walkways, all slick with rain. It was beautiful but useless to me that weekend.

I took two showers and two baths in two days. I worked out in the gym, just like I do at home. There was just nothing else to do. No Internet, nothing within walking distance, not even a 7-11.

When you’re in Asia cannot find a 7-11, it is very bleak.

The last day, I just sat in the lobby and read a book.