A Trip to Guilin – Part 2

Friday was a free day for us to do whatever suited our fancy. Elaine and I were eager to see some of the countryside and to hike to the top of at least one of the hills. We invited the group to join us, but they all had other equally tempting plans, and thus it was that only she, I, and our guide Chris headed out of town on new single-speed rental bikes (about $5/day each). We rode for miles, sometimes seeing other groups of tourists on rental bikes and sometimes having the country roads completely to ourselves. We pedaled by farmers plowing flooded rice paddies with water buffalo, flocks of amorous ducks and an old beekeeper tending what looked like a healthy aviary. Little children peed from open doorways in various rustic villages. Incongruously, homes lacked plumbing (we saw several hand-operated village pumps) yet several satellite dishes poked up between old tiled roofs. The mountain scenery was utterly spectacular. We’d heard about Moon Hill, a hike up several hundred stone steps to a huge natural stone arch. Chris asked if we wanted to view it from a distance (his preference) or actually climb up to it, and to his credit – and a handsome tip – he joined us for the trek to the top.

A common “feature” of being a tourist in China is the rather constant barrage of middle-aged and older women trying to sell you something. Anything. Little carved wooden ducks, hats, DVDs, postcards, fruit, cold bottled drinks – you name it. There were several at the Moon Hill trailhead, carrying Styrofoam coolers and offering us water or soda. We declined as politely as possible, having already stocked up on water and oranges. There were even women with their coolers on the way up the hill, but at the very top, some 300 meters above the valley floor, was the oldest, sweetest and by far most persistent saleswoman of them all, perhaps five feet tall and probably in her 70s. We took her picture, and bought several postcards from her.

On the way back to town, we found ourselves in the middle of lots of bicyclists, tourists and locals alike, all of us sharing the road’s shoulder while motorcycles, large trucks and tour buses whizzed past. At one point the road led over a bridge where many bicyclists had stopped to view the bamboo rafts, and the girls on the tandem bike in front of me swerved over to stop, catching my front wheel and sending me tumbling to the pavement. As I struggled to extract myself from under my bike, three women rushed to me, leaned over me with serious looks on their faces, and asked in broken English if they could … sell me postcards!

Unscathed and not at all discouraged, we returned to Yangshuo, dropped off our bikes, and headed for coffee and curried potatoes at Minnie Mao’s. We bought a few souvenirs for family back in the U.S., joined the group for dinner, and then headed to our hotel room to catch our breath for just a few minutes before going out on the town. We must have been tired after our adventure because next thing we knew it was Saturday morning!

Saturday involved a bus ride to a riverside village and a boat ride to view the truly amazing mountain scenery. Our boat had about 70 passengers, and we were the only non-Chinese aboard. Everyone had cameras, and we all crowded the rails to snap away at cliffs, waterfalls and each other. The bus ride back to the Guilin airport provided a last chance to "ooh" and "aah" at the countryside, and we enjoyed an uneventful flight back to Macau.

We woke this morning to Easter Sunday, and to our delight seven of our group headed to the beautiful little church on the hill overlooking Taipa Village. This evening they’re all coming over for Easter dinner; Elaine’s cooking lamb and potatoes, and the students are bringing other goodies. It promises to be a joyful conclusion to a perfect holiday!

A Trip to Guilin – Part 1

Chinese often think of Guilin as heaven on earth. Steep and rugged limestone hills create a magical area of over 5,000 square kilometers, a seemingly endless succession of jutting exclamation marks with rivers, pastures, and occasional towns in the flat valleys below. Words cannot do justice to how awesome they really are.

Ten of us flew to Guilin for Easter break, leaving Macau on Wednesday afternoon for the 50-minute flight. Our group included seven of the nine Susquehanna students, an alumnus from SU’s Class of ’06, and an Anthropology professor – an American – at the University of Macau. (The other two SU students opted for a visit to the Philippines.) Guilin itself is a city of 800,000 in the northeast of the Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region, and a major attraction for both Chinese and international tourists.

Our guide, Chris Huang, met us at the airport and escorted us to our bus, a “Golden Dragon” 16-passenger model, piloted ably by Mr. Wong, a strong believer in the power of the horn. After a night in Guilin itself, we headed for our primary destination, the smaller city of Yangshuo, where outdoor recreation opportunities abound. River trips are available on large tour boats or tiny bamboo rafts. World-class rock climbing routes are everywhere, and several guide services are available to lead experienced climbers. There are even hot air balloon rides. And there must be thousands of bicycles for rent. The town itself features lots of shops with souvenirs and knockoff clothing, hotels, hostels, travel agencies, bars and restaurants, including Minnie Mao’s Café, a name that rather captures the East/West blend of the whole place.

On the way to Yangshuo, we joined the throngs on a tour through the Silver Cave, which was wonderful. Next we were taken to a “native village” where it slowly dawned on us that what we were witnessing was a remnant of three indigenous cultures. Each has been uprooted by the Chinese government from their original homelands and moved to the Guilin area. Basically, the peoples we saw have been reduced to dancing for tourists. In order for their unique and beautiful traditions and crafts to be “preserved for posterity,” the government has commercialized them. It was a sham, perhaps not unlike the way Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show depicted Native Americans in the U.S. 120 years ago. In retrospect we realized that our very presence contributed to the pretence, and wondered if a charade like this could be one of the travesties that native Tibetans hope to avoid. These seem like strong words, but I don’t want to be blithe about what we saw.

Today we joined 2,000 other tourists by the River Li for a Chinese opera of sorts, “Impression on Sanjie Liu,” created by Zhang Yimou, one of China’s most famous film directors. It was performed on the river – the world’s largest natural theater – by a cast of 600 hundred local actors. “Impressions” is a seven-chapter story of the Zhuang people, China’s largest ethnic minority, who for centuries have lived, worked, and loved in the Li River region of the province. It is a “must see” for any visitor.

After the performance I hoped to find some better hiking shoes than the smooth-bottomed and worn out tennis shoes I’d brought from the U.S. It had been raining every night and I knew we’d face slippery ground hiking on Friday even under the best conditions. To my surprise, even at 10 p.m., the entire shopping area (“West Street”) was in full swing, and I found a pair of hiking shoes and a pair of cross-trainers for a combined price of about $25!

Beachcombing

There’s a lot of concrete in Macau, many tall buildings, much noise and people almost everywhere, which is what made our “discovery” this afternoon so special. Needing to get out of the apartment for some fresh air, Elaine and I caught the bus to the sleepy, quiet village of Coloane on the southern tip of Macau. From there we walked along the beaches and rocks to Cheoc Van Beach, just the two of us, with a few fishing boats well off shore and the Chinese mainland in the western distance. Low tide, quiet, sunny, beautiful, perfect. At Cheoc Van Beach we found an outdoor café with two Brits at one table, a French family at another and one large, friendly dog. It was in every respect a perfect afternoon.

Stairs

The University of Macau holds many things: serious students, dedicated teachers and scholars, breathtaking views of the Macau Peninsula and the South China Sea, a great rock climbing wall and many others. It also is about stairs.

Growing up, my image of China was always of a broad and fertile valley dotted with rice fields and a few homes, with dirt roads winding through. The reality of Macau is that it is among the most densely populated areas on earth, and the university, instead of being in a broad valley, is rather perched on the side of a cliff. There are stairs, elevators and escalators everywhere. But mostly there are stairs.

Last week Elaine and I left our apartment early to watch the sunrise from the top of the highest classroom building on campus, and 364 stairs later there we were. The good news is that the stairs are a form of forced exercise, since the elevators are usually crowded with students who wouldn’t dream of climbing even two flights to get to class. We’re thankful for small things!