Wild Wild West China

A land of opportunity, where the sky is blue, the air is cool, the land is vast and green but the topography strange, where the people rush and shove and hurry from place to place. A land void of Westerners where a women leads a lonely camel by his nose down a road -- inexplicably. These were my first impressions of Guiyang City in Guizhou Province in far, southwestern China.

At this point, you may be wondering (or not, at this point, if you have been following my blog at all) what on earth would drive me to these hinterlands (look up Guiyang, Guizhou on Google Maps). Well, I'll end the suspense: the trading part of the company I'm here with brought me along to learn about purchasing contracts and to see how a ceramic sands manufacturing plant operates. Moments after landing, the manager of the ceramic sands plant we were to visit whisked my travel partner, "J," and I away to the factory to talk shop, broker a deal and walk around the the plant.

One can often judge from the airport, I have noticed (and have also had these observations confirmed by others), how many Westerners one will run into in a place here. There were more Pandas wandering around than Westerners, which is to say, none. And, giving me little hope for other Western comforts, a trip to the restroom confirmed it: all holes in the ground. I girded my belt (so to speak).

We left the airport in a Fiat with the plant manager and headed as straight as one might hope to the factory. Construction everywhere. The trip took us over hill, under dale, overpass, underpass, around lines of enormous life-sized Tonka Trunks and through the city outskirts and countryside. When we arrived at the factory, we went to the office to "discuss things." I had the privilege of listen in... to the Chinese. Which I don't speak.

Ideas ran through my mind, as I sat spinning the green flowers in my hot water (tea): I could look very attentive, "listen" along and throw in a few "haw. haw. twa twa twas" for good measure ("uh huh uh huh, ya ya ya" in Mandarin). I could also succumb to sleep for a few short minutes, but might this be rude? Or mightn't it, given that I understand nothing... I could also stare incessantly at one point on one mans face to see if he'd react but this would probably be counter productive to the business deal and thus lessen my standing as a mature intern from a prestigious masters program. So, I looked interested, drank my tea, sat demurely and waited until the next step...

At last, show and tell! A tour of the factor and... more hard hats! This time, I didn't have the nerve to ask for photo-ing of hard hat experience. But I was dying to. In any case, we walked around the factory and "J" explained things to me as we went along.

With deep respect in my heart, I tell you that this factory looked in no way like it could produce a world class product and yet, it does. The light of day visible through the ceiling, ware and tear visible on every machine and tool, soot gathered in corners, beams sagging with age, one would never guess that to open a shipment bag, one would find perfect and durable ceramic sand ready for fracturing in oil fields and able to withstand enormous pressure underground. How do they do it? Perfect and meticulous systems operations, application of the Model T factory methods and conscientious planning.

Later we drove into the city. Guiyang is poor meets high tech in a fascinating way. With billboards advertising the latest in communication: Netbooks with 3G! men trundle down the street with their mules, and the sidewalks team with street vendors who look a few shaves down the poverty scale than what I saw in Jingzhou - bonier arms, cheaper wares, scratchier and louder voices.

Guiyang the city contrasts sharply with its calm, peaceful weather. It is load and garish with blinking lights and pushy people, honking horns and incessant traffic. The city is built in the mountains, funny mountains that look like large green ant hills sprouting up here and there, which perhaps accounts for part of the city's insanity, as buildings seem sort of stacked one on the other with no room to spread out - as there is in Shanghai and Jingzhou , for example. Or, perhaps, the people are driven stark raving mad by their outrageously spicy food. But more on that in a moment...

"J" and I had dinner that night with the plant president and our driver/host, the plant manager (conversation in Chinese). They had never, evidently, dined with a Westerner or met more than one other couple of Westerners, in the case of the President. Had I photographed dinner, someone surely would have lost face, but how I wished I could have. It was straight out of someones dreams (and others nightmares) and much of it tasted delicious - particularly the spicy noodles, Peking duck and tofu soup with spicy dried bean curd. But of note, too, was the Foot of Goose - webbing and all - with its soupy, orange sauce. I tell you, if you haven't had a toe joint in your mouth, well... it's weird.

The president expressed his overwhelming joy at my eating abilities and talent for drinking Mao Tai - official Chinese liquor (the real brand, which is actually brewed there in Guiyang) to me via J. After all, I could hardly blow him away with stimulating conversation, as I sat in silence during the meal watching the giggling waitress call her friends in behind every ones' backs to stare at the Westerner, daydreaming about the conversation topics at the table, and figuring out how to eat goose toes without getting orange sauce on my cheeks. Nonetheless, the president felt sufficiently impressed by my ability to consume all things Chinese to compel him to say I was a "great international woman" and to invite me to "the Wild West of China to make..." here he rubbed his fingers together to indicate the international sign for $$$.

Bauxite anyone? That's what Guizhou's got to offer, among many other opportunities, goods, raw materials, tourist attractions, I have came to believe during my three nights there. Guiyang is a alive and producing but seems to boast much potential yet. (After all, sigh, the skies are still blue there...)

The next day we traveled out to one of the most beautiful and mystical places in the world. First we drove two hours out of the city, through countryside I could never have conceived of in my wildest imaginings. To access the waterfall, one must traverse a charming bonsai garden, bursting with life and flowers, its streams teeming with colorful fish. Then through a pathway, you come upon a natural bowl-shaped riverbed canyon and see one of the world largest waterfalls. Here you must begin the long, two hour long trek around the canyon to see one of all of the 6 angles from which it is possible to view this waterfall. The pilgrimage is long but the climax takes you behind the waterfall itself.

Of course, the government has marketed all of this to the max and it crawls with tourists. Signs that read "your soul will stir with the silence and beauty" become laughable as the only stirring I felt was to throw pushy tourists over the cliff's edge. Yet, the majestic beauty of the place still overwhelms the crowd. The imagination can still wander to times past when a lonely wanderer, like the Ming Dynasty wise-man who discovered the falls, might have stumbled upon these sights.

Have I mentioned how cheesy tourists here can be? No.. these old folks are not part of a show...

Lunch was a delicious and humble affair - my favorite. Very similar to the food of Jingzhou except this time we could pick out the pigeons the plucked and cooked for us. The smoked pork/tofu combo was to die for, I tell you - get thee to Guizhou for this dish. And the home-brewed rice wine delighted.

Now, no one let us in on this little secret, but there was more sightseeing to come! Our host just led us through some gates and mentioned something about a boat. A boat? Um, no one said any thing about a boat when I was being fed pigeon and pork and wine... A little van showed up and drove us straight up a vertical cliff (I swear). We got out, there were some guys playing cards (there are always guys playing cards...). But I was miffed - we were up on a mountain. Where was the water? The boat? Someone pointed DOWN a vertical cliff (hadn't we just come UP one?) to some stairs I was evidently supposed to descend.

Follow the leader...

At the bottom of the stairs, sure enough, was a large pool of water. A deep mountain lake, in fact. And boats sat lined up in a way that reminded me nervously of the Blue Grotto in Capri. "Where're we headed, boss? Did you know we were doing this?" "Um, no!" Came the response.

Well, my visions of the Blue Grotto weren't so off, it seems. We piled into a boat with a bunch of other Chinese tourists and headed across the 28 meter deep, cool mountain pool toward a narrow but tall crevice in the cliff-side ahead. Finally, someone felt like translating for me: that's a cavern.

It was, beyond words and imagining, the largest, most expansive cavern I never knew existed. 28 meters down from the water's surface and 138 meters high from the water's surface to the ceiling at the highest points. As we tunneled and rowed and ducked around, we saw all manner of stalactites and rock formations, which I was told were calcium rock of a sort. My mind ran to the Anne McCaffery books I obsessively read, which, if you are a fellow nerd, you will know, means that these caves were DRAGON sized. Huge. Enormous. No Blue Grotto.

As with most Chinese Adventure days, this one wouldn't end and, after encountering the last part of it, boy am I glad it didn't. The food in Guiyang, the hotpots, are even hotter than Jingzhou . We started with mutton on a stick; J, who is from near Beijing, almost couldn't handle those. Then the hotpot came, with river fish so fat and juicy and veggies (finally, broccoli!) and red spicy hot sauce. It was OUTRAGEOUS. But everyone was doing it! So I did it too! J could only eat a couple bites.. After his third can of tea to wash it down, he called it quits... Which is when something drew our attention

A family eating next to us with a particularly cute baby. He was seated on Daddy's lap and was enjoying a... super spicy mutton on a stick! He munched away like the mutton was a chew toy and sucking off all the spices, hot pepper juice spread across his cheeks and lips (he was maybe 9-months-old). SPICY BABY! But his existence begs the question, do mothers in Guizhou nurse their while swilling rice wine in between taking large bites of a chile peppers?

Guizhou is wild...