Seoul

View of Seoul from the 52nd floor of the World Trade Center

Seoul was a respite compared to the craziness of Beijing. The school visits and the university fair were calm and manageable, making the idea of leaving the city (after a brief two day stay) not half as nice as the thought of staying there. Maybe I felt this way because I knew what was ahead. I was leaving the Linden Tour group at the Seoul airport this afternoon and striking out on my own, back to Shanghai. It didn't take more than an hour before I remembered that traveling on my own in China is always an adventure.

My Air China flight to Shanghai had a stop over in Qingdao, a coastal city that lies on the southern tip of the Shandong peninsula, on the Yellow Sea. I was the only Westerner on the flight, and probably the only passenger that had to ask what the "rice stuff" was that came in a very difficult to open plastic wrapping that was served as our lunch.

I only had 45 minutes between flights and found out I had to claim my bag, go through customs, security, and immigrations, and then check-in again. The terminal was a challenge with minimal English signage, and an unmanned "help" counter. After producing much nervous perspiration I made it to the gate that was indicated on my boarding pass that was issued in Seoul, only to find that the plane there was heading to Beijing. There are no departure information boards in the Qingdao International Airport, but there are a lot of departure gates.

With 10 minutes left till my flight left, I began to use my best Mandarin with anyone who came into my path; "..Shanghai-????-Shanghai-????-Shanghai-????..." My look of desperation and sweaty face brought enough helpful responses to get me to my gate as the last people were boarding. I walked in to the cool interior of the airplane to the sound of Boys II Men singing "Oh Come All Ye Faithful" (why ... I have no idea) over the P.A. system. I gratefully took my assigned seat, and listened to a few more holiday favorites before the safety announcement began.

During the one and a half hour flight I played several scenarios in my head about how I was going to get from the airport in Shanghai to my hotel. All of them ended with me being dumped off exactly where I didn't want to be. Before I could decide on the one I liked, we were landing.

I claimed my bag and began to follow the signs to the taxi stand and my fate. I got outside and was immediately in the middle of a crush of people that were all heading in the same direction. It suddenly hit me that they all wanted a taxi. Ahead was a line of recently deplaned passengers waiting to get into a que for the taxis; there must have been 5 or 6 thousand of them ahead of me.

It took nearly an hour and a half for me to get to a taxi, but it was time enough for me to ask someone in line to write the name of my hotel in Mandarin so I could give it to the driver. It did the trick. I was not dumped in the night at a weigh station run by "white slavers", and am in fact writing this post from my sparse but clean (2 Star) hotel. (You would not stay here, Chris!)

I am safe, and well, and ready for a rest.

Beijing

I was about to begin to write about the study abroad fair that I took part in last evening here in Beijing, but I just re-read what I had written about the previous one in Shanghai. Given the size and intensity of last night's fair, I'd just be writing the same thing with more exclamation points (i.e., !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

The sign above, (which is real, and was located over an office doorway in the hotel in which the fair took place), and the duty that I hope the occupants inside perform, says all that I'd need to write about the evening. It was memorable. Everything was taken off my table by the crowds; even things that shouldn't have been removed like my display poster, completed inquiry cards, my copy of the catalog. At one point early in the evening, it was so crazy that I just stepped back and began to laugh at the scene; I just couldn't believe what I was in the middle of.

It is finished, and once again, I have survived to write about it.

Today, after our school visits, we will make a 30 minute "cultural stop" at the Forbidden City (hoo-ray!) on our way to the airport. We're off to Seoul Korea this evening for more amusement and amazement. Someone, (it may have been Patti ....!), commented to me before I left on this trip; " ...at least you don't have to wake up in the same place everyday, and do the same old thing ..."

Yup !!!!

Shanghai

This is my second trip to Shanghai and even though it was a quick two day stop, I was struck with it's size, contrasts and the density of its population. This "pearl of the orient" is made up of over 20 million people. Walking on the streets is like getting a full body massage; you just have to squeeze by people rather than walk with them or around them.

I took part in another study abroad fair last evening with about 100 other universities and colleges. It was held in the ballroom of the hotel I'm staying, and could easily accommodate 3,000 people. It was jammed with at least that many during the fair for three hours. I've never talked so much, so quickly or so loudly for that long. By the end of the first hour I was hoarse, and all of my brochures and other handouts were gone. It was like being in the middle of a feeding frenzy, and being the stuff that people wanted to feed upon! If there was ever any doubt about the Chinese wanting to study in the U.S., it was dispelled last night.

At the end of the evening I limped back up to my hotel room, drank some hot tea to ease my throat, and crashed into bed.

We ended our Shanghai visit today with visits to private international schools. The day is finishing up with a flight to Beijing this evening where we'll begin the drill once again tomorrow.

Exotic travel? Let me think about that ...........

Backtracking in Hong Kong

It’s late Friday afternoon, and I’m enjoying a half a day off in Hong Kong trying to catch up with myself after a very full two weeks of travel. With visits to 4 cities and countries in the past 6 days there hasn’t been enough time in my schedule to post anything new. This will be my only opportunity for the next few days to backtrack and bring you up to speed and at least give you an idea of where I’ve been.

Singapore:

The most memorable thing about the day and a half trip to Singapore was not the everything-is-new, well-designed, clean, upscale vision of the city/country that presented itself, but rather the announcement that was made on the Singapore Airlines flight as we were making our final approach to the airport. The calm and even voice of the purser matter-of-factly announced that, “Pleased be advised that in Singapore, drug possession is punishable by death, and littering is subject to flogging”.

I was a very good and very tidy visitor.

Changi Prison for Men, Singapore

Vietnam:

Thunderstorms have followed the tour since it began in Bangkok. The storms were particularly violent during our two days in Ho Chi Minh City. When it wasn’t raining, it was just hot and steamy.

Most of my time in this city was again, spent sitting on a bus in traffic. Observing the traffic and the number of motorcycles in particular was a source of constant amazement. Our bus driver said that there were over 8 million motorcycles in the city alone. From what I could see it was an underestimation.

The study abroad education fair that I participated in was the largest yet. Ninety-seven colleges and universities were there, which caused a sort of feeding frenzy feeling as thousands of students “swam” by our tables and consumed handouts for four hours. I came out of it with all my fingers, but my voice was gone.

Kuala Lumpur:

We had a quick stopover of a day and a half, but it was enough time to get the impression that this city was very different from any of the others. The Muslim influence was decidedly apparent, and often accentuated by the Western look and feel of the international schools we visited. Before the education fair, we were given a quick course in the etiquette of interacting with Muslim parents, and women in particular; like, don’t try and shake their hand, don’t show any bear shoulders, and don’t show any cleavage. I buttoned my shirt and went to my table.

Hong Kong:

As I’m finishing this up, the sun is setting over the Hong Kong harbor, and the lights of the city are beginning to add sparkle to the fading light. I wish you could be here to experience it. You’d remember it always.

More later ………..

From the Back of the Bus

The daily schedule is at full speed now. Early morning departures for school visits on week days, and education fairs on the weekends have already caused me to lose track of time. Air travel to the next country, and transitions to a new hotel in the late night hours wear on my body.

The majority of time has thus far been spent sitting on buses (6 hours yesterday alone). The traffic is incredibly awful, even though the city has a well-developed rapid transit system of below, and above ground trains. I've experienced most of the cultural landmarks in Bangkok through a bus window. They’re impressive even from this perspective.

As I write this, I’m sitting in a hotel ballroom awaiting the beginning of an I.I.E. Education Fair that will take up most of the day. My table (among the 60 other U.S. universities that are participating), is located between the University of Iowa, and the University of Minnesota. Why is this is good for me? Because these two schools draw a gazillion students to their tables, and create a back up of people waiting to talk with the respective representatives. While the students standing around, they notice my table (without a crowd formed in front of it …), and slide over to find out what a “La Verne” is.

“Do you have any idea how cold it gets in Iowa and Minnesota?” I ask them. They think for a minute, and then usually admit that they haven’t a clue, or don’t have a concept of the word “cold” because they’ve always lived in a subtropical climate. (Most of them can’t even locate either of the states on a map.) Then I start extolling the merits of studying in Southern California. It’s a great way to get our brochures into their tote bags, and our name into their lexicon.

We have a late night flight to Singapore tonight; I’ll get my last glimpse of Bangkok from another bus on the way to the airport.

Bangkok

Bangkok is another Asian city that seems to be at odds with itself, dragging its people and culture, rich in history and tradition, hell-bent down the slippery slope toward modernity. What you’re presented with as a visitor are contrasts and contradictions on every corner.

After breakfast this morning, I walked down to the (very grand) Grand Hyatt Erawan Hotel, just a few blocks away from the Four Seasons. At the intersection where the Hyatt stands is the Erawan Shrine. I tentatively entered the courtyard of the shrine and found an inconspicuous place to stand against an iron fence, and watched the crowds praying (trying my best not to look like a tourist). A vendor approached me and asked if I wanted to buy an offering. After politely declining to purchase a bundle of the nasturtiums he was selling, he began to tell me about the shrine. He explained that the Hyatt hotel was in fact, named after it. The shrine was built to appease the local spirit, Erawan, an auspicious Brahmin god, when serious problems kept developing during the construction of the hotel. Upon completion of the shrine the construction proceeded smoothly. The shrine is very well-known, drawing faithful believers from all over Asia. Erawan is apparently famous for granting wishes.

After breathing in a little too much incense, and not wanting to listen to anything further about the “powers” of a ceramic figurine, I thanked the man with my practiced Thai hand greeting and left the courtyard. Glancing up at the imposing façade of the Hyatt as I made my way back to my hotel, I thought again what a contrast it was to what I had just experienced. But then …… I remembered the men’s restroom I had used in the business class lounge at the airport a few nights previously. That was the epitome of contrast. Thanks to a colleague who is on the tour with me, who could also not believe his eyes, I’m able to post the picture below. Tacky? Most assuredly; but very like Bangkok.

Departure

One early summer day in 1955, I accompanied my best friend Ed, and his parents to the Los Angeles Airport (before it was known as “LAX”) to see his grandparents off on a vacation to Russia. Going to the airport in itself was an adventure for me, and the idea of getting on an airplane and going to a foreign, not to mention communist country, was just too much to imagine.

People dressed to travel then, had stylish, matching luggage, (including make-up cases that ladies carried with them on to the airplane), and bought a lot of magazines with them (because there were no in-flight movies) because you had to do something besides eat and smoke for all those hours.

I’m still struck with the memory of standing in the terminal and looking up at the departure board, reading aloud the names of the cities that were listed. Images of what little I knew of those far off places swirled in my mind and stimulated my young imagination to the point of daring to wish that I too might one day board an airplane and emerge on the other side of the world and experience their wonders and magic.

Be careful what you wish for.

Traveling at nearly 500 miles per hour for 11 hours, you can gage the vastness of the Pacific Ocean, and the endurance of your backside to occupy a seat on a Boeing 777. I know; I did it this past Sunday. I arrived in Tokyo on a flight from San Francisco, and having had such a grand travel experience, waited in a lounge at Narita airport for two hours to board another 777, and warm a seat therein for 7 hours more. I emerged at Suvarnabh airport in Bangkok and made my way in a stormy, steamy midnight to the cool and sumptuous comfort of the Four Seasons Hotel, 26 hours after beginning my travel.

Wonders and magic? Yes …. It’s still a part of travel for me.

Complaints? Not at all. I am blessed with being able to call this part of my “work.”

The Four Seasons, Bangkok. A great place to lick my travel wounds.

Happy Good-Bye

I'm a little worse for the wear of the road, but I'm still smiling.

Yes, yet another tour is coming to an end. My bags are packed, and my mind has already placed me out at the hotel entrance waiting for the taxi that will take me to Dalian International airport.

It was a good tour, but not a great tour. That could be the reason for my happy good-bye.

Thanks for tagging along! I'll let you know that I arrived home safely.

Not A Bad Day in Dalian!

The sun arose and stiff wind of the China Sea blew out the pollution that had shrouded Dalian since I arrived. The wind also caused the humidity to drop to a level that allowed one to walk more than a block without breaking into a heavy sweat. These were reasons enough to celebrate, but then, the study abroad exhibition was a pretty good event! A triple whammy!!
I was on a Chinese roll!! But then .... I got back to my hotel, and found that a wedding reception was taking place in the garden court that my 2nd floor room overlooks. This was not good.

A Chinese wedding reception is a very elaborate affair. There is a welcoming speech by a "MC" (at a highly amplified volume). Directly after the speech is the cake cutting (to much applause and cheering). A traditional Chinese wedding cake is huge, with many layers. The layers symbolize the couples climb to success. The couple cut the cake from the bottom to the top. The bride and groom feed each other a piece of cake (sound familiar?). Then, they cut a piece of cake for the parents and grandparents. The bride and groom feed each of the pieces of cake to the parent or grandparent together (to much cheering). Wedding toasts are given (...many, and loudly). The wedding guests then (with great hilarity) greet the bride and groom and the parents. Then (in the case of this one) a 10 course meal is enjoyed, and then, there is "music"; loud music, karaoke singing, guest "singers"; all oiled by (a lot of) alcohol.
The reception began many hours ago. They are all having fun downstairs.
Upstairs ..... it's a different story.
....... but then; this is all part of the adventure.

Take Anshan Off the List

Hot as Chinese Temple Dog in July

Evening ~
I'm sure that there are wonderful things about Anshan to recommend to your friends, but I just didn't find any.

The education exhibition I participated in here was held in the lower hall (basement) of a "science center". The temperature yesterday was 90 F, and the humidity was at least 90% and .... the "lower hall" was not air conditioned, and not well lit. About half of the exhibitors folded up their stuff and left within the first hour. Not me! I sweated it out, and made certain that everyone who came by my exhibit space who looked even mildly interested, or able to read English (or not), walked away with a brochure. If they didn't learn anything about La Verne, at least they had something imported with which to fan themselves. The day ranks up there with one of the longest ones I've ever experienced. I vote for not sending me here next year.

When I returned to my slightly air conditioned room in the not grand Wuhan Grand, there was a brochure stuck on my door. I entered my room and slipped off my clothes, (which was easy to do since they were drenched in sweat), sat down, and perused the brochure. It was printed in Chinese, with a picture of the hotel in the background. I found the strategically placed English subtitles on the brochure to be intriguing.

"Customing the room card, you will have a surprise!" boasted one phrase. A few lines down below more Chinese characters it read: "Sing the passion in our heart. Set free the burning flame. Lead the trend of the times. Sing with the wine. Health depends upon preserving." ....... ..... what????

I called it a day, packed my bags and made ready for the bus trip to Dalian in the morning.

Thursday Morning ~

I was taken to the bus station, a ticket was purchased for me, and I was told to wait till the Dalian bus was called for boarding. After sitting in the terminal for about 45 minutes, the thought occurred to me, "What if I get on the wrong bus?" The place is a Chinese puzzle. There is nothing written or spoken in English anywhere. Buses coming and going, people crowding to get a seat, or to get their bags loaded, children crying, announcements (who knows what they're saying) being shouted over the public address system. I began looking around for someone who looked "foreign", like me, so I could ask, "Have I missed my bus?"

Apparently I looked sufficiently clueless enough for a uniformed person with an official red sash (obviously left over from the Red Guard) to approach me and ask (in English!), "Where are you wishing to go, sir?"

"Dalain; am I in the right place?"

"Follow me, sir". She kindly barked at the assembled masses of my fellow travelers, thus clearing a path, and led me to the proper exit door for the Dalian bus.

Happy to be pointed in the right direction, I settled in for the three and a half hour trip. The elderly man that I sat down next to did not look thrilled with the fact that a "loawai" (foreigner) had become his seat mate. I happily and wholeheartedly assured him that I would make the travel time fly by with entertaining stories of my life and travels. He stared at me for a few seconds, then mumbled something to himself in Chinese as he turned his face towards the window. I did not take this personally. Sometimes it takes people a while to know what a fun guy I am.

South to Anshan

Yesterday, on a 90 minute, public bus ride south from Shenyang, a kung fu movie entertained the majority of the passengers, and the lone Westerner took in the landscape rolling by outside. It was agricultural, mostly; rice paddies, pig farms, and mushroom growing facilities. The few villages that the newly constructed, 6 lane highway bisected were small. It was easy to understand that fewer and fewer Chinese are living in rural areas.

The trip ended in Anshan at a grimy central city bus station next to a vast train yard. The rain-soaked streets and 50’s era mass housing projects were covered with a layer of brownish muck. The air was foggy with heat and humidity, and yellowed by pollution.

Anshan is known for its iron and steel mill complex; China’s largest. The entire city and surrounding area is dominated by this huge plant which covers over 10 square miles and employs close to half a million people. The city has a population of 3.6 million, with more than 38 thousand students studying in high schools, and 20 thousand in universities and institutions. Thus it is a natural venue for an annual study abroad education fair; and that’s why I’m here.

I’m staying at a hotel called the Wuhuan Grand Hotel. So far, I’ve found nothing “grand” about it. Yesterday evening I wanted to order my dinner from room service, but the menu was only in Chinese. I phoned room service to ask if they had a menu with English subtitles, and the person who answered hung up. An hour later, a woman called back and said in broken English, that she was the only one who spoke English, and asked me what I wanted to eat. I explained that I didn’t know because I couldn’t read the menu. “No worry”, I was told, and she hung up. About 10 minutes passed when someone appeared at the door with a (sort of) English menu, then left. It was Chinese food ….. of course. A brief survey of the menu’s offerings convinced me that Anshan has outdone Shenyang in the culinary arts:
~ Savory Ox Liver with Bamboo Shoots
~ Fat Intestines Fried on the Pan
~ Bamboo Scented Mutton Neck
~ Scallion Scented Flatfish Head
~ Homely Dough Drop Sea Food Soup
~ Iced Cheese
~ Delicious Peppery Stewed Tendons
~ Prawn Meatballs with Fungus

Room service called me back a few minutes later. “You see menu. What Chinese food you want?”

“I’ve decided to wait until morning for the breakfast buffet” I replied. ‘Please, God; let there be eggs …..’

The Wild, Wild East

Shenyang Exhibition Center:

Today was the second and last day of the education fair I attended here. It ended an hour earlier than planned when a fight broke out between members of two study abroad agencies who were exhibitors. (I am not making this up. ) It seems that one of the agents became enraged when she thought that an agent from the next booth had "enticed" a prospective client away from her. A shouting match quickly developed into a brawl when after seeing the two "ladies" start to exchange blows, the staff emptied from both booths and tore into one another. The noise created by the fracas, now involving at least a dozen men and women, drew a crowd of locals who (and I have to guess at this because it was all in Chinese) began rooting for their favorite agency's participants.

Uniformed, whistle blowing, security police, looking like leftovers from the Cultural Revolution, suddenly joined this bizarre scene, muscled their way through the cheering onlookers, and broke up the fight with night sticks.

A few minutes later a desperate sounding announcement was blasted (in Chinese, of course) over the p.a. system. The clueless, jet-lagged representative from the American, liberal arts university with the French moniker, was informed by his translator that the fair was being closed and that we should exit the hall within 30 minutes or face arrest. The translator then offered her opinion that the security people were just using the incident as an excuse to go home early and have their Sunday lunch. Dumbly staring out into the emptying hall, as if waiting for the events to catch up with me, I threw in my own opinion, that people here took student recruiting very seriously.

She responded with a Chinese word that sounded a lot like, "Duh!"

On the Road Again

Shenyang, Liaoning Province:

I'm happy to be deplaned and free of airports today after 29 hours of travel. I've spent the day catching up with myself and finding out just where in the world I am.

Before I left California, I studied maps of China, familiarizing myself with the region. You can see from the map above, that Shenyang is in the north east part of China, just to the west of North Korea. Liaoning province has a population of nearly 43 million people. Shenyang is the capitol city of the province, and China's fourth largest city. It's a leading manufacturing hub and a highly industrialized area. There seems to be more buildings under construction and destruction than there are those occupied. I can almost see it growing as I look out on to it from my hotel room. (So much for the geography lesson ...)

Shenyang is also one of the venues for the 2008 Olympics. It will host some of the soccer matches at the new stadium (pictured above). With the start of the games only a few weeks away, there is a lot of buzz (and flags) in the city already. I flew into the new terminal of the Beijing Capitol Airport yesterday, and there were hundreds of newly minted Olympic "hosts" and government personnel "practicing" making nice with visitors. I could still smell the paint drying; everything is new, shiny and ready to roll.

The Sheraton Lido Hotel, where I'm staying, is suitably upscale, but (to my disappointment) has no electric toilets. It does, however, have some interesting items on the room service menu:
- Aged Pumpkin Soup
- Marinated Jelly Fish Heads with Black Vinegar and Cucumber
- Braised Whole Shark's Fin Served with Plain Rice
- Sweetened Superior Bird's Nest with Lily Bud
- Boiled Sea Cucumber Dumpling

....... decisions, decisions, decisions .......

I can make out a KFC sign down the block; the Colonel never sounded so good.

I Forgot!

I forgot to let you know that I got out of Athens (fast) in one piece after seven weeks of hearings.
I'm very glad to be home, and don't want to think about traveling again for some time. Yes, I know, I'll be on the road again this summer, but I'm truly not thinking about it.
Stay tuned for more "adventures".
Thanks again for checking in!

Don't Look Down!

I've made a promise to myself not to post any further pictures of the garbage that has piled up on the streets of Athens. I experienced an epiphany yesterday as I was carefully stepping around plastic bags that had been torn open and scattered by dogs and cats (and ????), it was a spiritual flash that made me realize that my perspective had been all wrong. I had been focusing on the garbage because I had been looking down. Of course, looking down while walking in Athens is not a bad thing, because it helps you to avoid stepping into open utility vaults, tripping over broken pavement, or stepping in dog poop. Nevertheless, by looking down, things were not looking up.

At the moment this intuitive realization took place, I was walking in Monastiraki, the old market area of Athens, having just exited the Metro. I paused, looked up from my feet (and the garbage), and there above me was this beautiful, visual delight; the tiled roof lines of two neoclassical buildings juxtaposed in the morning light. I stood there for some moments, looking ever so much like a tourist, and just stared up. The sight was clean, uncomplicated, historical; reminding me that I really was here, in Athens, one of the great cities in time.

Not wanting to ruin the moment, even though my neck began to ache, I moved on towards the office with my gaze fixed on the roof tops. My feet began to encounter unfamiliar textures, and the unrecognizable sounds of "stuff" being crunched and squished beneath them, reached my ears. I continued on. Things were looking up because I was doing the same.

All Greek fables are suppose to have a moral:

Change your perspective and it will change your perspective.

Sort of Like Mr. Lincoln

I'm enjoying the weekend. I'm now out in the country staying with two of the (very) few remaining friends I have Athens. It's good to be out of the chaos of the city and the snarls and nastiness that the continuing labor strikes are creating.

I've started to settle into my routine of morning exercise and meditation now that I'm in a quiet and healthy environment. Even though I have to commute back into the city most days, I can at least begin each day with a proper attitude and a relaxed body. It doesn't take long, though, for me to get psychologically tighter than an over wound clock as I immerse myself in the seemingly bottomless pool of the Greek legal system.

Several of you have asked me over time, "How can you keep doing this?" There is a well known character in one of Henry James' novels that was asked a similar question; I like how James had him respond: " ... we work in the dark, we do what we can, we give what we have ...". To use some 12 Step vernacular, I suit up and show up, and do what is asked of me. That's not to say that I enjoy what I'm asked to do, but in the end, I believe that my actions are the right thing, and that it will all work together for good.

It's no "great service" like Mr. Lincoln rendered, but giving something your best in mind and body has its rewards, believe me.

Life is good ... it really is!

I'm Here, But Not all There !

If anyone is actually reading this, or if you happened on to this page by mistake, I apologize for the delay in getting a new post up and available.

I'm in Athens and have been once again wending my way through the labyrinth of the Greek legal system with the very able guidance of our lawyers. I couldn't even have found the non-functioning toilets in the Greek court complex without their expert direction. (like, why would anyone want to use them once they were found .... !) Photography is not allowed with the complex, otherwise I would have taken one that would have been worth at least a thousand words.

I'm including a picture (above) of what every visitor to Athens expects to see. The next picture is what every visitor will see, whether they want to or not. One of the reasons for the delay in my posting is that there have been general strikes almost every day since I arrived. This has meant that there are unannounced power cuts (of up to 4 hours), transportation strikes, labor strikes and, no garbage pick up. It's getting difficult to navigate the in the streets, and almost impossible to use the sidewalks. The current Greek National Tourist Organization's promotional media campaign is; "Greece: An Experience for All Your Senses". Yup, no problem with that.

It's good to be back on line. Tune in for more this week.

Thanks for being there from one who is not.