A stroll in the park
Trip Start
Sep 17, 2007
1
122
272
Trip End
Oct 08, 2008
Kunming,
China
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Our Kunming hostel wasn't terribly exciting, but it was in a fun neighborhood, and every afternoon we walked by to see tables full of old Mah Jong addicts
riding on the train
. In the evening all the tables and awnings would disappear and the street would just be a normal Chinese neighborhood once again. Our second day in Kunming began with some serious organization. We decided to mail a package home, and went through all our (scanty) belongings, deciding what needed to go, stay, and what we could give away. (When we got back to Kunming after Lijiang, Travis spotted one of the staff had adopted his sweater. We were happy our clothes were put to good use.) Altogether we had perhaps 5 kilos. Off we went to the post office.
The post office, being Chinese, naturally had a disorganized scrum where a line should be. I thought for sure we'd never get our mission accomplished, but the man behind the counter seemed to see the order in which people came and we were helped in no time (unlike the grocery store, where the fruit buying wives are honest to goodness she-devils in front of the weighing counter). In China you show the postal workers what you're sending and they pack it for you. Our stuff was unceremoniously (but snugly) packed in a nice box and taped up so that my mom could have an awesome time unwrapping it. Everything goes in a box, even if it's already in a box and only needs to be wrapped in brown paper. That's just not the Chinese way
my math helper
. One poor girl was trying to send a gift of tea packaged in a large, square box, and it didn't fit into any of the post office's boxes, so she had to leave the counter without sending her package. For our part, after filling out the slightly mysterious address shipping form we mailed the package for about 20 dollars. Not bad, really. We hope it gets home eventually. Next we decided to try the Kunming specialty of across-the-bridge noodles. This was invented by a wife whose husband decided to become a hermit and moved onto an island. Being a good wife she became creative with feeding him and across-the-bridge noodles was the result. You get boiling broth and put raw meats and vegetables in it, followed by a giant pile of rice noodles. The boiling cooks everything, and all is good to eat. I was unconvinced, but loads of Chinese eat it. Mostly I was unconvinced because I'm not sure if a couple minutes of boiling hot water can cook pork straight through, but it ended up being very thinly sliced, so it seemed to cook alright. I guess it's something to try, but for my part I think I'll pass on a second helping. Trav liked it.
Then came the highlight of the day. All through China parks were full not only of beauty, but also of people doing things you would never see in the west. Today everyone and their dog was in Greenlake park, enjoying the warm spring sunshine. We saw a bunch of stands selling bread and wondered what it was all about. Then we found children tossing it at the seagulls that migrate to this lake year after year. Then we got into the center of the park. Mostly people were strolling around, enjoying the tulips and the lake and the various structures (one of which was a miniature village with a very sad-looking boat)
across-the-bridge noodles
. But in every corner and gazebo, and sometimes in no corner at all, we came upon people standing row upon row in big circles. The first guy we heard (rather than saw) was a pop singer, belting out tunes to his crowd. One guy, not so strange. Next we came upon a contingent of Naxi dancers, who lead a group of Chinese in a traditional dance that absolutely everyone knew the steps to. It looked really fun, and I rather wished we would have impromptu traditional dances in the park, but we have to go to pow-wows for that, and they're usually indoors, which is less fun. This, slightly more strange. The further we wandered in the park, the more we saw. There were a few groups of traditional musicians performing, accompanied by a singer and, if the singer was a man, a woman dancing in a more South Asian style. Then there were the people who just seemed to be practicing or singing into microphones for fun. One woman was still wearing hair curlers. To be perfectly honest, the women singing in the traditional Chinese style were ear-splitting, and several had more self-esteem than talent. Sitting solitary along the sides of the lake were men practicing their instruments quietly to themselves. They seemed more interested in enjoying the day while staying busy than in showing off their own talents. We saw violinists and funny Chinese banjos. One group of musicians was delightful, but was accompanied by a woman whose voice was a little horrifying. This whole was accompanied by three fan dancers who did not match at all. It was informal like this all over the place, but the mics and loud performances and rings of onlookers made it seem more like a bunch of simultaneous gigs playing over each other.
The park was full of people strolling, adorable little Chinese kids striking poses for their parents before running around squealing with delight, and couples and groups sitting on the lakeside under parasols, just enjoying the day
pink tulips
. For my part, I got in touch with my inner child by feeding the giant goldfish. They got really excited and splashed about, competing for crumbs near the surface. It was altogether lovely and enjoyable. Our last curiosity was the bird and flower market. I don't know what we expected to find, but I know it wasn't quite what we did find. First we came upon the puppies. Bunches of adorable pure-bred (looking) puppies waiting to be adopted or eaten. I didn't think about the eating part, but later we heard a story about a guy who'd spent loads of time picking out the cutest puppy and it coming back to him in a bag. Talk about depressing. I think most of the dogs we saw at the market were not the food variety. Everyone swears that there's a certain type of dog that gets eaten, and these didn't look like it. As we passed I saw a guy who must have just purchased a new puppy of the typical Chinese breed. It, like everything else in China, was placed in a plastic bag for your carrying convenience. A puppy poking out of a plastic bag looks rather funny, but its new owner cuddled it against himself, so I think the puppy will be alright.
This turned out to be a side market from the grand affair. We wandered down an alley and finally came upon cage after cage packed to the brim with birds
pretty red tulips
. It can't be good for them, so I hope they get purchased at a rapid rate and get to have more comfortable lives. Some of them were very plain, some were colorful, some were small, and some were large. You could get any bird, even a bright orange oriole. But there weren't only birds. There were buckets and buckets of different sized turtles, hamsters (some of them were so very tiny and cute), lizards, mice, and some large black beetles. I wasn't totally sure if these were pets or food, but I know that in Japan some people keep giant beetles as pets, so nothing's out. As for the other aspect of the market, we saw some flower stalls, but then the market exploded into a riot of souvenir stalls. It was an interesting place. At the end of the day we made our way to the bus station to catch the sleeper bus to Lijiang. It was our first sleeper bus in China, and it was full of beds that were just a bit too short of the average Westerner, which Travis and I both are. It is therefore rather uncomfortable to sleep the night through, but a hotel on wheels is difficult to argue with. Worst was that on this night we experienced what we both believe to be our only real scam in China. A seriously obnoxious (and I thought that before he scammed us) man ran up to us speaking English and helped us through every single detail of boarding the bus. Sometimes it's as if, because we're white and obviously foreign, we have magically lost the ability to think, so others (who usually want money) take it upon themselves to assist us. Generally when we really need help, like in finding the bus in the first place, there's no one around. So back to the man. After getting us settled he told us that there was a "petro" charge because gas prices had risen. His inability to say petrol should have been our first clue, and it really was, but we ran into a tight corner
strolling in the park
. Why hadn't this price been included in the ticket? We asked. No answer. He was the manager and he'd been running the bus for six years and that was the truth. He even showed me the back of the ticket to prove it, but the back of the ticket was in Chinese and I clearly couldn't read it. All I could read was something that said 10 kilos, and I assumed it was the weight limit of luggage, but he insisted that it really said 10 kwai per kilo. We were extremely resistant because we'd been scammed the same way in India and Nepal, and his price was outrageously high. We kept demanding to see someone else pay, someone else's receipt, but none was forthcoming. Finally he yelled at me and I paid him because he was so earnest that neither of us was absolutely sure he was lying. But he was, and what we should have done was taken his photo and reported him to the police as a scammer. We decided that should the situation ever arise again we would call in the police (who would magically speak English) and see if we might call the bluff. But the trouble is that you never really know who you can trust. Erin
