On Top of Moon Hill

Matt and I rented bikes (of the non-motorized persuasion to avoid disaster) to head out into the countryside. Getting out of town might have well have been a big game of Frogger. Traffic laws, especially right of way and the existence of laned traffic, seem to fall by the wayside over here. At one point, there was a truck protruding from the side of the road so Matt tried to go around, only to be greeted by an elderly woman on a moped carrying a 2 meter long bundle of sticks coming right at him on the wrong side of the road.

Once out of the city, it was smooth sailing, breezing past rice terraces and weaving through the Karst. We parked our bikes, paid a 1 yuan ‘bike watching’ fee to guarantee our bikes weren’t stolen, and ascended a steep set of stairs to the top of Yueliang Shan (Moon Hill). The steps reportedly number over 1100, but I think that’s just communist folklore. At the summit of Yueliang Shan lies a massive natural stone arch, giving the illusion of a hole in the peak from afar, hence the name. We climbed up to the top of the arch, revealing a full 360 panorama of the dozens of gumdrop hills in sight, most enveloped in a slight haze in the overcast afternoon light.

Yangshuo: Backpacker Paradiso

Our past three nights were spent in the cozy backpacker haven of Yangshuo. Nestled in a valley between the peaks of the Karst and the Li River, it’s a nice place to enjoy the Great Outdoors and chill out amongst the throngs of ‘Westernized’ cafes and restaurants.

My mom linked me to a webpage chronicling a couple’s trip around the world, where they proclaimed Yangshuo as ‘the Ibiza of China.’ Though I think that it’s an unfounded analogy on numerous levels, there is an undeniable over saturation of bars pumping out tunes well into the night along ‘West Street’ (not sure if the irony of the name is lost on the Chinese). But the bar scene plays a distant second fiddle to the natural surroundings. Anyone who has their reservations need only look past the neon to see the shadows of the Karst looming over the city like a gothic cathedral, reminding all who is master over this dominion.

Ocean's Eleven Chinese Acrobats

Anyone who has ever seen Ocean’s Eleven knows about the Chinese Acrobats. Ever since deciding to go buy tickets to a show, I have had visions of the scene where George Clooney and Brad Pitt go to a performance to scout out a talent for their big heist. The acrobat runs up a pole with hands and feet and then does a spring move off the pole, a couple flips and then lands perfectly on his feet. Of course, he makes it into the eleven.

The real Chinese Acrobats are just as impressive. To describe the show in detail would be impossible. Take a look at the pictures and be assured that the Ocean’s Eleven routine made its appearance as the finale.

Hike through Middle Earth

Mao Zedong once said that “He who has not climbed the Great Wall is not a true man.” I am now a real man. Today, Matt and I traversed the Great Wall of China. You can’t just go to ‘The Great Wall of China,’ though. You have to pick your part of the once 6000km wall carefully. Most tourists go visit the most restored portion of the wall in Badiling. Most photos in guidebooks are taken at this section of the wall and, accordingly, every vendor of tacky goods worth their weight in Mao Zedong alarm clocks has set up shop all around its perimeter. The second most touristed section in Mutianyu, though reportedly not as bad, is also moving in a similar direction. Wishing for a more spiritual experience and not really feeling the need to buy copies of the Teachings of Mao Zedong, we opted for a less traveled route: a 10km hike from Jinshanling to Simitai.

After a 110km bus ride out of central Beijing, we found ourselves at the gates to the Great Wall… or rather the ticket window (the China Tourism Board has levied a fee to roam freely on the premises of each section of the Great Wall that can be visited). Several minutes later we had reached our first rampart. We were standing on the Great Wall of China.

Climbing on the crumbled remains of stone steps that restoration efforts had clearly passed by, we ascended from Jinshanling farther up into the mountains.

From the vantage point of raised ramparts, I gazed in awe at the wall snaking off into the horizon in both directions, dividing the deep valleys below. Standing on the Great Wall, you don’t feel like you’re anywhere on Earth. It just doesn’t seem tangible. Yet there you are, standing on a 2000 year old part of history with nothing around to interrupt your journey but steep drop-offs and moving vistas. Matt commented that Peter Jackson could have well been inspired by the wall in molding his creation of some of the sets from Middle Earth. I’d have to agree.

On the decent into Simitai it was clear at which point the restoration efforts had begun, as our rocky and tempestuous route gave way to paved stone walkways that could even support a car if need be.

From the front entrance of the Simitai portion of the wall, there are two ways to get to the parking lot where the bus was waiting for us. One was via swinging across a zipline extending a hundred meters over an emerald green lake like India Jones. The other was a 15 minute walk by foot. You can guess which path we took.

Mao Knows Best

Every city has its characteristic items that are sold to tourists at its every nook and cranny. I’m used to the normal postcard hawkers and faux watch vendors, but what I wasn’t prepared for was the Teachings of Mao Zedong book salesmen. Curious, I picked up one of the tombs very carefully, thinking that this could well be the Chinese equivalent to the Bible, and thumbed through the pages. As the cover had promised, there in English and Mandarin were the words of the Chairman, himself, for all to remember and ooh and aah at, like a modern Confucius.

Communist Construction

The thing that has possibly left the greatest impression on me from China thus far has been communist architecture. There is no doubt in my mind that there is a brilliant psychology behind every structure in the city.

Take Tiananmen Square.

On the West side of the square, the Great Hall of the People in its dominating size and lifeless presence looms over passers by and instills a sense of humility in their place amongst the affairs of 'The Party.'

To the South of the square lies the equally massive Mausoleum of Mao Zedong, where the bodily remains of ex-chairman Mao Zedong are on display. All can remember the sacrafices of the leaders of the revolution.

Combine these with the excessive width of Chan'an Road, the sheer vastness of Tiananmen Square itself, and the narcissistically large portrait of Mao watching over the every move of his people, and one gets the sense that communism and the party is still very much a part of the composition of everyday China despite the recent influx of capitalist influences.

Linguistics

After an epic 40+ hours in transit, I found myself on a limousine bus to Beijing's city center. Peering out the window as we drove past the neon signs and advertisements of the city outskirts, I wondered just how deep the resemblances of the last giant Red State would run with my home for two years, Japan.

For me, the characters were the first noticeable similarity. The Japanese language utilizes thousands of kanji (Chinese characters), which were imported from mainland Asia hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Though the characters utilized contemporarily both in Japan and China have diverged from their original forms and nuances, many have retained the same basic meanings. The practical end result of this thousand year long linguistic evolution from my standpoint has been a sense of comfort amongst the passing signs and maps and restaurant menus. Of course I don't understand most of it, but it's just familiar enough to feel at ease.

The spoken languages, however, couldn't be more different. A Japanese couple occupied the seats behind me on the airport bus and every other seat was filled by Chinese people. The Japanese couple talked very calmly in their nice, polite, rhythmic patterns in a soothing fashion that could put a baby to sleep. A Chinese girl to my left, chatting on her cell phone, was belting out tone-filled, razor-sharp syllables that could cause an eardrum to implode in an instant. If Japanese were the classical music of languages, then Chinese would certainly be the punk rock.

It has begun

China, I have arrived. Actually, I've been here in the People's Republic now for almost a week, but amidst all the excitement of Chinese New Year and keeping myself busy exploring Beijing, I've yet to write anything about my trip.

The day after I arrived, I was met by my fully-bearded partner in crime, Matt “Soup” Huffman, who has been told by the Chinese that he bares more resemblance to an Arab than an American (and, apparently with my new buzzed hair and 5 o'clock shadow, I look German). We've since partaken in all the madness of Chinese New Year in addition to taking in the temples, the parks, the Forbidden City, and, of course, the Great Wall of China. We'll be in Beijing for another few days before pushing off to our next destination (Guilin; in southern China). I'm going to take a day before we head down there to catch up on writing and pictures, so keep an eye out for some new posts before then.

No surprise, it was scripted

My travel buddy, Matt "Soup" Huffman, and I like to talk about The Script -- which I write in italics not because it is a book title, but because it is so important that it deserves nothing less... in fact, I'm gonna go back and bold it, too. Done. -- when referencing our misadventures. The Script is the collective body of everything that has and will happen in our lives. Because it accounts for past experience, our individual natures, and the world's sometimes strange sense of humor, The Script predicts the future. Not that it ever needs to.

It was my fault. I should have referenced the opening chapter of my travels in The Script before I booked my flights. I mean, of course I fly out on the only snowy day in the Midwest. Of course every flight is delayed or canceled. Of course my connecting flight to Beijing is the ONLY on time flight in the history of O'Hare International Airport on the snowiest day of the year, causing me to miss the connection. And of course I end up spending the maiden voyage of my journey waiting 24 hours for the next flight to China.

Life has quite a sense of humor. I really should have known. It was scripted, after all...

I'm ready for China... is China ready for me?

*After I realized this reference was being lost on a number of people, I thought I'd extrapolate just a bit... This is the Gate of Heavenly Peace in Tianan'men Square in China, where the famous huge picture of Mao (now yours truly) looms over all passers by.

The Return of ProbeTheGlobe

As I begin to embark on a journey of epic proportions (to speak as self-inflatingly as possible), it is time once again for ProbeTheGlobe to crank its gears and keep all of you informed on my whereabouts and misadventures.

I’m setting off on a 13 month odyssey across four continents and probably a couple dozen countries. Here is the basic itinerary I have mapped out:

Feb. 13 – fly to Beijing, China

Feb. 13 – June 20 – Make my way through China and Southeast Asia by land

June 20 – fly from Singapore to Stockholm, Sweeden

July 15(ish) – fly to Valencia, Spain

Aug. 5^th (ish) – fly to Siena, Italy

Aug. 20^th – fly from Rome to Tel Aviv, Israel

Aug. 20 – October 16^th – spend time in Israel, Jordan, and Egypt

Oct. 16^th – fly from Cairo to Delhi, India

Nov. 25^th – fly from Delhi to Cape Town, South Africa

Nov. 25^th – Jan. 25^th – Make my way through SE Africa

Jan. 25^th – fly from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia to Rio, Brazil

Mar. 15^th – fly from Buenos Aires, Argentina to home

I’ll be following festivals around the world. I’m shooting for the pace of one big festival per month. I’ll be starting with Chinese New Year and ending with Rio Carnival. I’ll be at a full moon party in Thailand and the world’s biggest food fight in Spain and many other places in between. I know, you all feel very sorry for me in this endeavor.

The whole way, I’ll be chronicling stories and photos and posting both to this webpage. Hopefully, I’ll do a better job in terms of frequency in my posts than in the pasts, but that depends largely on where and when I have an internet connection.

The basic premise for my trip around the world is this: to use festivals around the world as a launching point of exploring the common ways that we celebrate our basic humanity. On a daily basis, we hear about the horrors of the world – war, famine, terrorism, crime, poverty, etc. – that paint a bleak picture of human nature and the perseverance of decency. We see pictures of people grieving over lost loved ones and videos of the vocalization of hate. Every news channel, regardless of partisanship and bias, tells the stories that speak only to our sadistic desires to fear. In the midst of an era of the broadcast of misery, it’s easy to forget that people also celebrate. Whether it’s religion, manhood, coming of age, a successful harvest, or just an excuse to come together for debauchery or a giant food fight, every culture hosts events that celebrate the basic qualities that make us human.

That's the premise on paper. There is also, of course, always the pursuit of (mis)adventures.

*I'd like to add that I did not shoot this picture of the world.