That’s 3, 4, and 1! Tones, baby! I’m your master.

Back from the trip with the notorious HJ and his Mother, and Wife, which are both much better looking than him. One day was snowing and super cold, so we were forced to drink bai jiu. It was my first snow since leaving the US, so I was happy nonetheless. The next was better suited for sightseeing and picture taking, some of which are included below (credit: HJ). I did not include any pictures of me looking stupid (there are plenty) or the one of a tree that looks like a…camel toe. Also, I’m a camel.

This was taken at a rest area on our way up the mountains. The old lady rockin’ the pink slippers was smokin’ some heavy weight shit in her pipe. Anyway, HJ pretended to take a picture of me, while actually snapping them. We’re so discrete it’s not even funny.

This is at the same rest stop. That sign is a promo for the one-child policy.

Snow.A camel. A dinosaur.

Leaves.

What is this? A menu posted on that dull, cemented wall? Chairs and tables stacked outside? The fat chef with his dirty apron? Get back in the kitchen, homey! The sign? I know those characters!!!! 兰州 slangin’ noodles and Sichuan cai BIA!!!

When one door is boarded up, another one opens. The restaurant that closed down has re-opened next store, where a (legit) massage parlor once stood. Space is smaller, prices are higher.

In other news, a visit to my favorite street meat spot last night revealed that “City Management” had cracked down on unlicensed vendors. DD and BB have ceased operations indefinitely.

Maybe my favorite restaurant…shut down! Along with a fruit stand and three other restaurants.

Two weeks ago tomorrow it happened. I drove by in my jet black Benz (okay, I rode past on my yellow “Flying Pigeon” bike) and people were tearing these store fronts down. The roofs were already demolished. The boss was standing out front, so I thought they might just be doing renovation, but then I saw a cart of bricks. They brick up the entrances and then go over them with concrete so no one can enter. Above is the finished product. Odd thing is that we ate dinner there the night before and the boss didn’t mention a thing. Maybe he didn’t even know it was coming.

The other restaurants and stand I could care less about, but this spot, run by some folks from NW China is awesome. When it comes to Sichuan dishes, this place wins hands down. Two people can feast for less than $4. Cheap, large portions, good service, etc. I wasn’t a fan of the 1RMB/person charge for rice (human right), but I learned to live with it. Anyway, this change was inevitable I guess. We are in the city center, so these cheap, small, not so clean spots will be extinct soon enough.

A lot of good memories here. RIP!

From the Philippines. Some highlights:

The big pink thing. Positioned the sidewalks in parts of Manila, they offer a place for men to relieve themselves. Our cabby pulled over. You can see his feet.

Jeepney’s. Everyone custom built, tricked out.

The last picture. “Free service charge”. Weird English translation. Oxymoronic.

Also pics from my 36 hour train ride to Shanghai.

Yesterday, I was at lunch with a friend’s husband. It wasn’t the first time we’d met. He had treated me to lunch two times before. He’s older, but this time I wanted to pay. Toward the end of the meal he said, “Jesse, wo fu, wo fu”. In Chinese, “wo” is “I”. Sometimes people mix in some basic English for humor, so I made an allowance for what I thought was a mis-pronunciation of “full” and interpreted him as saying, “I’m full. I’m full”. I responded accordingly with “hen hao hen hao” (very good very good) and laughed at his joke. The check came and he reached for his wallet. I interjected and paid the bill. Then, later, I realized I had made a mistake. In Chinese, “fu” means “pay”. He wasn’t saying, “I’m full”. He was saying, “I’ll pay”. And I had responded with “very good very good” and a big smile. Lucky for me I paid.

Several of you have asked for a follow up to my Guilty by Association post.

About a week later I sat down outside a restaurant by myself and ordered some food. While twiddling with my mobile, I felt a presence in front of me. I lifted my head and there she was - gap-toothed smile and plate of fried rice in hand.

“Can I sit here?”, she said. I smiled and welcomed her. She started talking, and I kept thinking about our first meeting, unable to focus on whatever it was she was saying. She was completely oblivious to what happened.

Soon enough, she leaned forward and, in a secretive tone, said, “Guess what. Last time, I forgot to pay that restaurant”. We both exploded in laughter, though for different reasons, and I said, “I know. I paid for you”. I told her the rest of the story and her smile turned south as she launched “excuse me” and “sorry” 100 times over across the table. She was genuinely embarrassed and to make up for it, paid for the meal I was eating.

I’m gonna try to get a pic of this girl and post it here. Don’t hold your breath!

Uncle Sam blessed me with a tax refund, so I went to the Philippines with Ryoko. Granted, China is big and beautiful enough to never leave, but during Golden week, there are just too many people traveling domestically, so international travel is more ideal. Besides, leaving China every now and then isn’t a bad idea if for no other reason to remind myself that I am not in the “center” of the world. And also to remind me that Shanghai people might not be so far off when they call Sichuan the “countryside”. Our fight was from Shanghai, but I was tired of flying between cities in China, so I took the train. I reserved a hard (not really hard) sleeper for the 36 hour trip. I set off on a Saturday evening. After a Friday night that I dare not put in writing, I was a little agitated, tired, and looking for a change of scenery. The train was a great experience. In classic Chinese behavior, as I was leaving, YYL said “oh, I’m leaving, too. I will send you to the train station”. The train station is totally out of the way, but she hawked a taxi in the middle of rush hour, chasing it down in her heels, got me past security, made sure I was stocked with food, and saw me all the way to the train.

The train station is classic. Think Greyhound station in the States, times the size and amount of people by 50 and that’s the view. Tons of weirdos, so that was fun. On the train, our cart had open (no doors) compartments, three beds vertically stacked on each side. I had the top bunk. A 22 year-old “Chongqing” beauty was opposite me. Below me was a male student and below him, another young female. Those two didn’t talk much to me. Below Chongqing was a classic Chengdu “ayi” (aunt), 50+, and then her husband on the bottom. The ayi was funny - always talking in vibrant local dialect. Her husband poured baijiu into a water bottle for the trip. The trip on the train was priceless. Lots of stops. I saw several nuclear power plants and other manufacturing facilities. Everyone on the train is friendly. Sharing food and space like we were all old friends. The ayi even started giving massages. But she is clever. She knew the young girls wouldn’t allow that, so she ended up on the receiving end from them. I ended up getting one, too. Only in China. The level of casualness and comfort is undeniable, addictive. What is lying beneath is debatable, but that’s for you to decide.

I spent most of my time communicating with “Chongqing”. She helped with my bag as I was initially climbing up to my bed. I hit my head on the overhead compartment and she showed some genuine concern. Despite her being an English major, we mostly spoke in Chinese, until the last few hours when she asked if we could use English. We still mixed, but to be honest, I felt relieved. The bathrooms are not super clean, but not as bad as people said. We arrived in Shanghai at 9am on Monday and I tool the subway to Ryoko’s apt. She met me at the station and went to her “tasteless castle” of an apartment (note: much nicer than my apartment). After and shower, we went for lunch. Pizza and beer in an area patronized by lots of foreigners. An interesting community - some experimental “intellectual property” area. Usually, in China, if one business is successful, the folks next store also enter the market. Basic economics really - if there is profit, then competitors enter. The result is huge clusters of businesses that sell the same thing - sometimes it’s textiles, but sometimes it’s toilets or solar panels or whatever. Maybe that’s good for consumers (so long as there isn’t any price fixing going on), but it makes for a dull community and also a lack of innovation, with everyone satisfied with the stat quo. Just getting by mentality. Anyway, every business in the community made a pledge to not steal ideas, etc. That night we dined at another cool spot.

The next morning, we left early for the flight to Manila. The Shanghai airport security took my shaving cream, so I am sporting a beard right now. We flew two hours to Hong Kong and had a three hour layover. During the approach to HK, we encountered some turbulence and the plane started to wave a little. The kids kept yelling “fun, fun” each time the plane moved. I was in a panic, of course. Their parents didn’t help (me). Instead of telling them to quiet down, they egged them on, also saying “yeah, fun, fun”. Anyway, we landed safely, though with sweaty palms.

It was my first time in HK airport. Last time I came to HK, I flew to Shenzhen and crossed the border overland. The airport is great - super clean with good service. Huge. Like a shopping mall of luxury brands. Makes me ashamed of JFK. We flew to Manila (another two hours) and were welcomed by the tail end of a typhoon. The airport was not so great, but the immigration signs called us “visitors” and had smiley face stickers saying, “immigration with a smile”. Tried to imagine that in the US. The Philippines, like Hong Kong is bi-lingual. It seemed like everyone spoke English. TV commercials and personalities often mix Tagalog and English. Our taxi driver explained that when it rains there is a lot of flooding, so we had to take a detour. First thing to notice is the “Jeepneys”. These are basically public transportation created by and for the people. They are ubiquitous. Think a tuk tuk on steroids. Japanese engine. The body is custom built. Long body, with benches along either side in the back. Hop in the back, pass your money up front to the driver. On and off as you please. No two are the same. They are tricked out with tons of designs, accessories, and colors. Some are dedicated to girlfriends, others to God, etc. The other way to get around are “trikes”. A motorbike with a side car to seat two or three (or sometimes more). Also tricked out. The other thing that caught my attention was the school kids - the girls in long white skirts. The sailor top. The boys in slacks. All waiting out the rain or piling into Jeepneys. And maybe the coolest are the public urinals. These big, pink enclosures that you can go take a piss in. But you just piss on the ground, into a sewer. Our taxi driver stopped for a leak and I snapped him.

Our accommodation for the night was someone’s house that had been converted into a “hometel”. Basic, but it sufficed. We were in a residential area and after checking in, walked around before finding a local place to eat. We dined on a bunch of dishes that I can’t recall the names of. And San Miguel beer. The food was good, as was the service. The infrastructure in the Philippines is not as developed in China, but it is much cleaner. The next morning we went to the airport, only to be told that we were at the wrong terminal. How to get to the right one? A train? No. A taxi! We had given ourselves extra time so that wasn’t a problem. The flight to Kalibo to an hour, then a L300 van to Caticlan and finally, a boat to Boracay, a small island.

Vendors were not very aggressive like in other countries I’ve been too. But still, whenever I visit a touristy place, I always feel an uneasy sense of interdependence. It’s like the only thing we have in common is the money/product/service we are exchanging. Maybe that’s not all bad, but sometimes I want more than to relax or eat. I want to know something about the place or people, so my mission is always to break through that “tourist-local” (mental) barrier and make some meaningful connection. Mine didn’t come until my last night (keep reading) and confirmed my initial impression - Filipinos are friendly, but don’t not overtly like the Chinese. They are laid back but when they smile, it’s truly magical.The Spanish influence more pervasive than the Asian, as shown in the flashy styles, smiles, and personalities of the people.

Only two things irked me. First, all the fees - environmental fee, terminal fee, security, this tax, VAT tax. From the moment you enter until you leave. I don’t mind spending money, but I hate the feeling of having to reach into my pocket every five seconds. And some of the fees are not actually required. They try to get you to pay, but if you don’t then there is no penalty. Some people are smart enough not to pay, but if you don’t know any better, you pay (I paid). But this kind of treatment leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Second, I’m always miffed at why, after I spend a lot of money on a plane ticket and go to a lot of trouble to get to a place, the only thing I can find to eat are hamburgers and pizza.

Boracay is beautiful. The beach is covered in white sands and blue coral. The water is clear blue and clean. It was cloudy most of the time and we got at least a little rain each day we were there. A lot of Koreans and some Chinese were also visiting the island. Classic is when they bring one bowl of rice when you order rice. The Chinese guy looks at his wife like, “what is this?”. I was feeling his pain, really. Who charges for rice and then just brings a tiny bowl. They ordered more. Isn’t bread and rice a human right? I hate a la carte. Anyway, it will be interesting to see how tourism changes as more Chinese begin to travel abroad. How the restaurants and hotels will adapt to their expectations in regards to types and portions of food. I think it will be great for tourists in general because the Chinese are more likely to push than their Western counterparts. We had cable TV, so I watched American television for the first time since I’ve left the US.

On our way back to Manila, we met a Korean guy who had traveled to Boracay alone. He spoke Chinese, so we were able to communicate. I negotiated a bus trip for the three of us. I got a one dollar discount. Those guys don’t care, but for me it is about principle - the locals were paying a lot less. We basically subsidize their transportation. I hate that. We were back in Manila for the final night and even though I swore off Italian food, we found ourselves in an awesome Italian place getting bent on wine and other delicious food. People were playing music and singing. After that it was serious gun talk with the security guards at the hotel. A classic conversation. I’ll give you an entry from my Moleskine later.

Pictures soon.