An Chang

Completely lost in Shaoxing, the only clue Lonely Planet gave us for some respite from the city was the name of an old village about an hour away. Without any further information, we asked for some advice from the man at the desk of our hostel. He very helpfully wrote down two buses we would have to take to get to our location, An Chang Cultural Village. Since we had no idea how to ask where we were while riding the bus, it was no surprise that we got off way too early. Sometimes my mind says "oh my gosh I think this is the place we should get off and even if this is too early we can just walk in the direction of the bus and maybe we'll get there" and I should never listen. We found a local travel agent but inside, the woman behind the desk was completely unable to articulate where we should go. She understood our question in English, but she couldn't articulate a response. Instead she wrote down, in meticulous handwriting, what we should do. In English AND Chinese! Perfect! We were quickly learning that when asking for help, directions written in Chinese are worth a thousand English words.

The second bus ride was a new experience for us. We drove through ungilded China, a never-ending maze of highways and manufacturing plants and pipes-I-could-crawl-through. The bus rolled up to an intersection and all the passengers, having read our transcribed Chinese directions, scurried us off the bus and pointed across the street. We were pretty sure that they weren't leading us astray, but the direction they had pointed in seemed to lead into the middle of an abandoned factory ground. For ten minutes we walked down the streets, no sign of life except one chicken clucking us onward. And finally, we saw this:

We found it (maybe)! After the desolate streets we walked down, these decorations were actually pretty conclusive evidence that we had walked towards a village, not an abandoned factory.

Walking a little further, we saw a group of four teenagers hanging out, and given our desolate surroundings, in a country of 1.5 billion people, these four teenagers were beacons of hope. We proceeded further and further, with reserved confidence, and finally we discovered An Chang Cultural Village.

Welcome!

An Chang was a surprise after our travel through the industrial wasteland surrounding Shaoxing. We were greeted by welcome signs directing us towards the a canal, which one day may have been a real commercial street. There were several small stone footbridges across the canal, which leads me to believe that this was not a fabricated village. In addition to the locals doing their thing, making sausages, playing cards, cleaning laundry, we were confronted by a row of benches with three ladies selling hard sugar candy and dollar-store-reject toys. One of the ladies, waving her arms and pointing up to my head, successfully communicated that yes, I was very tall and yes, she was very short. It's moments like these where I feel like a true ambassador to the world.

There were also some signs pointing to a one room museum that had closed by the time we arrived, and a religious building we couldn't find, even though the entire village was just one canal street.

A local hangin' out in An Chang.

Me looking at the canal, one of the many things to do in An Chang!

Soon after we arrived on the deserted canal street, an old guy in a boat discovered us and started yelling "hello.....hello.....HELLO!" in our direction. Part of the old village vibe apparently includes guys in the Chinese version of a gondola aggressively following you around hoping you'll take a ride. We decided to walk down the canal, and then take this guy on the way back up. I try to avoid rewarding people who hassle tourists, but these boats looked cool, and there were definitely no other tourists coming that day. He also successfully told other, younger boat guys to lay off his future customers, so he might have been the senior boat guy in town. Our plan left him with an hour to call after us as we slowly strolled down the street, but he never gave up hope. We finally hopped in at the end of the road, and he took us back up the canal in full gondola style, sans the serenades.

Our relentless boatman-to-be

One side of the rowboat was paddled with his hands, and the other with his feet. Good idea!

We're pretty sure An Chang was an attempt to create a tourist attraction, and I would make fun of it, but I geniunely appreciate the money that must have gone into preserving the canal, its bridges, and the structures lining the waterfront from development and construction. This is what it looks like one hundred feet past the edge of the village:

The surrounding scenery

Despite the silly attempt at a tourist attraction, I'm glad An Chang was saved from that fate.

Shaoxing

Nate and I traveled south-east from Hangzhou by train to Shaoxing, a quiet city of 4.5 million in Zhejiang province. When Nate and I were planning where to go from Hangzhou, we had a few days to travel before we could meet up with Ian again, so we didn't want to stray too far from Shanghai. However, Lonely Planet was not being very helpful. The sad reality is that the size of a travel guide seems to be inversely proportional to its quality. With little help from Lonely Planet, we found a city that was a couple of hours by train from Hangzhou, and went for it, not sure exactly what we would find. We ended up in Shaoxing, a city about two hours by train from Hangzhou. It's a humble city of 4.5 million, and here Nate and I began to see China.

Tearing away, layer by layer, the bars, night clubs, dunkin' donuts, the bund, we left the foreigner zone and entered a city built by the Chinese for the Chinese. Not that this city was so different from the others. Shaoxing is still full of towering apartment complexes, early-morning ballroom dancing in public parks, streets saturated with mo-peds, but this city seemed to be bleeding utility and efficiency.

Shaoxing, like a lot of China, is perpetually being built

I never stop being impressed by these large, stoic squares that have welcomed me to some cities in China

And just when I thought that this was a just another modern city blooming from Chinese industrial expansion, we walked one mile east from our Hostel and encountered some architecture that felt like an old Chinese village. The skyscrapers of Shaoxiang towered in the distance, and I'm honestly not sure how much longer this village section of the city will last. It was one of the places where I would have loved to have a tour guide, or at least someone who spoke Chinese. Some villagers peeked out from their buildings and said "ni hao", but I wonder how long they had lived there and when Shaoxiang began its explosion into a metropolis. I left China with more questions than answers, and nowhere was this more evident than in Shaoxiang.

Out of nowhere, old buildings!

It took a while, but we found a pagoda on the hill. Walking up the hill, we ran into some old men who we think were telling us that the inside of the pagoda was closed, and insisted that we try some other time. When we kept on going, they looked at each other and wrinkled their eyebrows in confusion, probably thinking "those guys are wasting their time, why don't they come back tomorrow when they can see the inside of the pagoda too?"

Silenced by language, I drifted aimlessly through this city, seeing people, buildings and places without really understanding. Without any help from the guide book, we were surrounded by a city without even knowing why it existed in the first place. I had been pretty firmly attached to my guide book up until this point, and in Shaoxing I learned to put the book in my backpack and start exploring. I'm sure there were points of interest we missed - apparently a famous poet lived somewhere in the city - but we decided to take the city and make it our own.

"What kinds of industries are important in Shaoxiang? What types of people live here? Is this a city that Chinese people would visit? What is that big glass pyramid building in the middle of the town square?"
"I have no idea!"

As expected, we failed spectacularly, which is not so bad, all things considered.

Shaoxing village, with Shaoxing City looming in the background

Seriously, what is this building??

Hangzhou

From Shanghai, onward by train to Hangzhou (pronounced something like Hong-Jo)! Unassuming by Chinese standards at 6.4 million people, the city manages to distract your gaze from the endless apartment complexes on the outskirts, anxiously urging you on to the serene lake in the center of town. Near the lake is a shopping district that would feel at home in the most gardened sections of the garden state. Even the street food was upscale, which worried me. The commercialized street food made me suspicious that it would be just cafeteria food served outside, but oh-my-gosh the bubble tea was tasty.

The other thing that made me fall in love with Hangzhou (did I mention I'm in love?) is the abundance of rental bicycles. For ten or twenty cents per hour, you can rent a bike and ride around the city. There are bike stands all around the city, and once you're finished you can drop the bike off wherever you end up. I hear that there are some cities in Europe that have a similar system, but this was my first encounter with public bicycles. At least in Hangzhou, most of the people who use the bikes take it easy, pedaling at a comfortable pace across town. There are big sidewalks and bicycle lanes, so there is no need to fight for space. The city already feels tranquil, with the quiet lake and the weeping willows brushing against the water's surface, but the bikes give the tranquility a human touch.

Pedestrian/bicycle path across the lake

The middle of the city is like a quiet lake town

On the top of a pagoda hill, looking out on the city sprawl

It was a good thing I brought some gloves, because it was hard to find gloves that fit my larger-than-chinese hands. Many motorcycles had gloves built into the handlebars, which almost certainly cuts into the market for normal gloves. I hate to go against what most of society probably sees as a public good, but I have so many issues with the idea of gloves that are irreversibly linked to one vehicle. They encourage people to sit on their motorcycle instead of standing, even when they are not riding their vehicle. They limit the ability to adjust the grip on the handlebars, which can lead to handlebar palsy. They create the need for an auxiliary set of gloves, for those times when you are outside but NOT on a motorcycle. This is no joke people. Don't let this terrible invention get the best of your senses. Just say no.

This panda is angry about handlebar gloves too

Given the tranquility that envelopes the lake center of the town, it was only appropriate that, despite the cold weather, these five american kids relive their 7th grade bicycle gang youths in Hangzhou, plowing down the drizzled sidewalks.

Nate and David put their game faces at the bike rental stop

Ian getting ready to roll

Now is probably a good time for a group picture near one of the hilltop pagodas in the city.

Group Picture!

As if it wasn't already a wonderful city, Hangzhou is home to some pretty outrageous nightclubs. I'm sure the wonder of hired dancers and pyrotechnics would wear off after a while (I know, I know, a loooong while), which is why Hangzhou continues to be awesome with a nice range of bars, in case you'd rather have open mics than pyrotechnics. There is at least one great night market with lots of souvenier-worthy shopping... and a Dairy Queen! It was frickin' freezing outside, but it had been half a year since my last blizzard! I'm only human.

Night market!

Just chillin' at a nightclub in Hangzhou

Surfin' the Maglev

So I arrived in Shanghai on a weekday morning in the middle of December, wrapped in the warmest clothes I possessed in Bangladesh. While the Bangladeshis walk outside in December with full winter jackets, I was walking around in t-shirts; it was only 70˚F! But China actually has winters. I don't think it was any worse than a normal winter in the U.S., but oh my gosh, my body was not prepared.

I developed a cold within the first couple of days in China, and it never really went away for the next two and a half weeks. My nose started running, and it soon dawned on me that I would be requiring a constant supply of tissues. I wasn't looking forward to managing my tissue supply while traveling, but I managed to find tissues at just about any place I could purchase food or other small consumer goods. Simultaneously, I was experiencing a serious lack of napkin supply at many of the smaller, mom-and-pop food operations. I therefore suspect that the tables of the napkin burden have for some reason been reversed, and the responsibility for providing napkins in China falls flatly on the consumer, not the restaurant. I welcome all comments and suggestions regarding the validity of my idle speculation. I also applaud Chinese businesses for (probably unintentionally) saving paper.

Before I got a cold, though, I landed in Pudong Airport in Shanghai, where I had the chance to ride the Maglev train into the heart of Pudong. I failed to realized that this stood for "Magnetic Levitation Train" until the train left the station and never stopped accelerating for 7 or 8 minutes. Somewhere around 4 or 5 minutes I began to suspect that this was not a normal train. Each car in the train has an LED panel in the front proudly displaying the current speed, which maxed out at around 420 kilometers per hour. I think it's safe to assume that the speedometer is just for show, but I firmly believe that people who build Magnetic Levitating transportation devices should also be allowed the right to build vanity LED panels.

The train arrived in the middle of Pudong, and I managed to meet up with David and Nate (!!!) who were hanging around while Ian was working. Have I explained the layout of Shanghai yet? Well, most of the older parts of Shanghai are on the West side of the Huangpu river, where British colonials set up camp and helped develop Shanghai into one of the biggest business cities in China. In the last one hundred years, Pudong, on the East side of the Huangpu, has been exploding with new developments and skyscrapers. This area of the city feels much more planned, with lots of wide roads and perpendicular intersections (after coming from Dhaka, I was speechless!). The buildings are very practical and functional, with some interesting attempts at bringing public spaces to life. I think this picture says it all:

Say hello to Pudong!

Ian came out for lunch and we all sat down to have a meal in China! It was wonderful seeing friends from college again. We hadn't been separated that long, but we had so many stories to tell! David had been traveling through Europe and Asia, Ian was working in Shanghai, and Nate had been working in New Orleans and was just starting his travels in Asia. We were all doing different things, but we had all made the same decision to do something adventurous after college, and I was so happy to be able to catch up with them in the middle of their adventures while their mind-grapes were still being gently massaged by new experiences.

Soon after lunch, Pei, James' friend from high school, arrived from Hangzhou, where he is teaching English at a University. We spent a day or two wandering around Shanghai...


and checked out some of the sites.

Pei looking at something really high up

Most of the time I was in China, it was overcast, and so many of the buildings in Shanghai are made up of quiet, grayscale tones. No wonder I saw so much black and white photography in Shanghai art galleries. Almost all of my photos were hazy and gray. Once the weekend rolled in and Ian was free from work, we took a train to Hangzhou so Pei could show us around his city.

Blurry pictures of train stations are good for foreshadowing, right?

Hangzhou pictures/stories coming soon!

Dhaka to Hong Kong

Well back in December my school had a three week holiday. Ian lives in Shanghai, Pei lives in Hangzhou, and Nate and Jin were traveling in China at the same time as my vacation, so I went to China! I'll try to write some entries about things that I did in chronological order before I forget everything that happened!

My travels started in airports. While I was driving to Dhaka's Zia International Airport, it dawned on me that this was my first time leaving Bangladesh in over five months. Sitting in the international terminal, my ears searched desperately for every bit of Bangla they could find, and I watched the flight announcements sign skip back and forth between English and Bangla. Desperate for some Bangla conversation, I talked with the Snack Stand's night manager, who asked if we do "live-in" in America (i.e. do we live with boyfriends and girlfriends before getting married). "Of course we do live-in in America!" I replied. I'm proud to be an unofficial ambassador of all things we value in American culture.

Arriving at the Hong Kong airport at 5am local time only escalated all of the strange feelings that rushed into my head. I had just spent five months without going in a proper shopping mall or walking on a dirt-free road. In three and a half hours, I was plunged into an airport where even the slightest walking distance called for a people-mover, and people who wanted to smoke had specially designated rooms located at frequent intervals throughout the airport. There were even baby-changing rooms! Yes, rooms designed specifically for changing diapers! All of the stores were closed until 7 or 8am, but I couldn't stop walking around. One part of me was pumped about the Burger King that was opening in less than two hours, but I couldn't help feeling a little upset Bangladesh was being left behind. The idea of considering the needs of different kinds of people in public spaces, like non-smokers and women with babies, is decades away from reaching Bangladesh.

I was in such awe that I actually took pictures of the airport

The airport was completely empty at 5am, and as the hours passed while I waited for my connection to Shanghai, people started arriving, and the sun slowly rose in the horizon, revealing the silohetted mountains of Hong Kong. The only elevated terrain I had seen in the last five months was during my visit to Chittagong, so I walked to the glass to get as close as possible to this mountain. I was looking at China!

My Shanghai travels coming soon!

Mutiny Update

Well it looks like everything is finally over. The mutiny supposedly ended in Dhaka on Thursday afternoon, but regional branches of the BDR either didn't get the message or didn't care, and the violence continued until at least Thursday night. I wasn't really sure until this morning if the violence had ended, and no one is quite sure yet how many people died during the attempted mutiny. International News Media seemed to struggle to disseminate any sort of meaningful report on what was going on. BBC is the only organization that seems to have its act together in Dhaka. What we do know is that the cause of the mutiny was the build-up of many grievances concerning salary and job benefits. The BDR was being ignored, while members of the Army were being given much better working conditions and job placements etc. etc. Regardless of the details, I am horrified that someone would think that these are grounds for killing dozens of people. Moreover, to think that members of the government's national defense force (i.e. the ones with all the guns and tanks) think this is okay is even more unnerving.

As all of this unfolded, I felt relatively safe knowing that I am probably in a better position than most Bangladeshis for receiving critical information, since I'm part of my school's Emergency Alert system which sends text messages if there is an emergency. Our school is in contact with the U.S. Embassy's Regional Security officers, which I will assume is pretty reliable. However, on Thursday the Bangladeshi government ordered all mobile phone carriers to stop providing service until further notice. This was both to prevent communication between the mutineers, as well as to prevent mobs from forming near outbreaks of violence. Luckily, things were sorted out quickly so the mobile phone silence didn't last long, but that means my school's alert system is definitely not foolproof.

Sara and I were hoping to go shopping for fabric downtown in New Market and Chandi Chowk for the last two weekends, but we have been foiled both times. Last weekend, a fire broke out in the market across from Dhaka College as we were driving to that very market to buy some cheap garment factory overstock. That market is right next to New Market and Chandi Chowk, so we were going to do some major shopping, but we had to turn back because people were going kind of nuts over the fire for the whole afternoon. Then, this weekend there was a mutiny in Rifles headquarters, just down the street from New Market. Kinda scary to think about, but Sara and I went shopping in Rifles Square, the building next to the site of the mutiny, about five days before the mutiny occurred.

So to summarize, two failed attempts at shopping, due to a huge fire, then a mutiny. What other forces will conspire against our desire to purchase cheap fabric and garments??

Mutiny, Yikes!

What a day in Dhaka. Don't worry, I am safe.

Yesterday, about half of the 6,000 members of Bangladesh Rifles (BDR), the border patrol division of the Bangladeshi Army, decided to hold a mutiny in Dhanmondi, in the western portion of Dhaka City. About six army officers were killed, and there was crossfire throughout the morning and afternoon. The school I work at is in the Diplomatic Enclave, which is about four or five kilometers from the mutiny, so we were safe, but the campus was closed immediately after school, presumably so all the local staff could get home safely. Beckley, Sara, and I watched for news on television, and we found some amazing coverage on the Bangladeshi news stations. News reporters decided it would be a good idea to drive right through the crossfire with a video camera, and another reporter was interviewing one of the mutineers, while the cameraman shifted rapidly between the man's face and left hand, which was holding two grenades. All of this footage was littered with gunshot noise in the background. Yup, these guys are out of their freaking minds.

I am not crazy, so I was not anywhere near these events, but some of the local newspapers got some great pictures. This is one from The Daily Star:

(http://www.thedailystar.net/newDesign/news-details.php?nid=77492)

Bengalis work pretty hard all day and they have no concept of punctuality, a combination which has slowly eliminated the fast-paced commuter from the streets of Dhaka, so you know its serious when you see Bengalis running. I know that sounds like I'm making light of the situation, but it actually gives me the chills seeing images of people running like this in Bangladesh.

Some pictures from the front lines. Scary stuff!!

(http://www.thedailystar.net/newDesign/news-details.php?nid=77494)

(http://www.thedailystar.net/newDesign/news-details.php?nid=77491)

Here is the New York Times coverage of the events that transpired yesterday:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/26/world/asia/26bangla.html?_r=1

Eid-ul-Azha

So I am back in Dhaka after many weeks of travel! I will post pictures and thoughts from my adventures in other parts of Asia soon. But first, Eid-ul-Azha, which happened in the middle of December.

Eid-ul-Azha is a Muslim holiday that celebrates Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his own son. Muslims around the world celebrate this festival and in Muslim countries, families with money will purchase animals to sacrifice. Traditionally, one third of the meat is used as a meal for the owners of the animal, one third of the meat is distributed to other family, and one third of the meat is given to those less fortunate.

In middle eastern countries, the animal sacrifice is apparently done indoors, in the garage or behind a fence. In Bangladesh, the families have the sacrifice right on the street. In middle eastern countries, the animal of choice for sacrifice is sheep. In Bangladesh, they sacrifice cows. You can also purchase goats, and the unreasonably rich families import camels from abroad. Think about that for a second. Eid in Dhaka is a holiday where they kill cows on the streets. Thousands and thousands of cows! In the couple of weeks leading up to this event, huge markets are set up to sell animals for sacrifice.

Here are some cows being shipped into Dhaka. Apparently many are illegally imported from India, where there is a surplus due to the whole sacred cow thing.

A cow market about three blocks from my apartment.

The animals are then tied up in front of the houses, awaiting the day of slaughter. Some people like to purchase expensive cars to show off their wealth, while others wear expensive jewelry. Well, the Bangladeshis are no different, but they also purchase beautiful animals and tie them up outside their houses to show off before they kill them. When I was walking around to check out my neighborhood-turned-temporary-petting-zoo, some of the neighbors would point to their collection of animals and tell me how much they spent on sacrificial cows. Some of them spent thousands of U.S. dollars on cows!!

My friend Iftekar and his daughter Fatima posing in front of the camel that everyone was talking about in Gulshan.

Beautiful white cows down the block from where I live. These probably cost at least $2,000 each.

Well on the day of Eid-ul-Azha, the streets of Dhaka run red with blood, and I am not joking. It amazes me that I have never heard of this event before, but I suppose that since most Muslim countries don't have sacrifices on the street, the spectacle hasn't been as widely publicized. Whatever the reason, this leads me to believe that there are many more crazy things that happen in the world that I don't even know exist yet.

Some people stay indoors, close their windowshades, cover their eyes and ears and wait for Eid to pass. I imagine it is not a fun day for Hindus. However, I had no intention of missing the action, so I went with my friends Sara and Jason downtown to Old Dhaka. The residents of Old Dhaka might not have as much money, but they are proud of what they've got, and they love to show off their cows, dead or alive.

We drove down a little after sunrise, and found a cow market that was trying to get rid of their remaining cows. They don't really speak English down in Old Dhaka, so I needed to find out how to say "cow sacrifice" in Bangla. I mimed slitting my throat, and then asked how to say that. After a minute of clarification, I emerged with an important word, which probably roughly translates as "to slaughter". Old Dhaka was then subjected to three hours of Jimmy, Sara, and Jason, in which I asked questions like "where will cows be slaughtered?" and "can you bring me to a cow slaughter which is happening soon?" and the occasional "I want to see cow blood".

Because we had arrived so early, it was quiet, and we thought we might have missed out on all of the sacrifices. In about twenty minutes, we managed to see our first sacrifice, and then things got serious. The method of killing the cow is basically to cut the aorta and the windpipe without cutting the spinal cord, so the heart is still beating and pumping out blood for another four or five minutes. I'm not entirely sure why, but for some reason I think that they want to get as much blood out of the animal as possible before it dies. I would say that after seeing twenty-five cows being sacrificed, the novelty wore off a little bit. For about an hour, we were whisked through the alleyways by the locals. Everyone wanted us to see their cow being sacrificed, and how can you say no when someone asks if you will watch them kill a cow?

I will now post some pictures for your consideration. IF YOU DON'T LIKE SEEING ANIMALS BEING KILLED OR BLOOD OR ANIMALS LEAKING BLOOD OR ANY COMBINATION OF THESE THINGS, YOU WILL NOT BE SCROLLING ANY FARTHER DOWN. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!




SERIOUSLY, LAST CHANCE. DID YOU READ MY WARNING??

Cutting the neck of the cow. You can see the blood streaming out of the aorta!

The streets run red...

They were very proud of their used knives. Haha, its all fun and games! How could anything possibly go wrong...??

Well, it used to be fun and games, and now Jason is holding a warm, bloody knife. He is not sure whether to laugh or cry.

Some of these kids were uncomfortably immature about dead cows. I'm not even really sure how to explain that, except by showing pictures of the kids pretending to lick cow blood.

These guys managed to dismantle an entire cow in about five minutes.

Later in the day, the poor travel around in big groups with bags, where they collect meat being handed out by the rich families, aka Trick or Meat. This street is usually pretty quiet.

I got some people to show me their bags. They were so excited!

This is where Eid differs slightly from Halloween.