Scottish themed rodeo techno hiphop jazz bar, DRINK UP!

I LOVE the Chinese! They positively lust for life. In fact, they are bananas for it! And I just love people who look at the world that way.

Perhaps you've never heard the culture or people described particularly this way. And maybe it isn't every breathing Chinaman. And maybe it has something to do with the double-digit growth the economy here's been recently experiencing. But how can a people who invented fireworks and who have 133,235,258,987,217 different delicious ways to eat about every kind of edible thing you can imagine (meat on a stick is one of my faves) and still take the time to carve a cucumber into the shape of a dragon and stick it on top of your lobster sushi not be called completely crazy about living?

So now I am basically in the geographic center of China in a little city call Jingzhou. It's a very important city to the history of China because it's on the Yangtze River and because of its strategic geographic location at the center. My introduction to this grand little city this weekend was sublimely absurd and solidified my growing belief in the Chinese life lust. It all began with dinner and a Scottish themed rodeo techno hip hop jazz bar.

From Shanghai to Jingzhou, door to door: 7 hours. I'm a little dead from traveling but no, my knew host will hear none of that. He said, "maybe, we have dinner, make some friends, go out to a bar!" At dinner, more female soup (the boys had something else), my first of many treasured encounters with Hubei province food (so spicy, sooooo good), AND my introduction to Chinese liquor and the expression "gam bei," (drink up).

Don't be an honored guest at a dinner table with Chinese and Chinese liquor unless you can handle the taste of Ouzo (or something like it). There's a lot of drinking to your health. Also, if you want to be impressive, learn to your chopsticks well in advance. My stick wielding skills aroused so many stares at dinner that I finally demanded applause, since they all insisted on watching so closely any way (for me to mess up, I was pretty sure.. and 'cause I'm a southpaw, which is evidently bizarre).

Following dinner, my new friends brought me to a place that came so close to heaven on this earth I thought I might have been dreaming. Pinch me, there were Chinese people running around in kilts, walls covered in flat-screens playing weird music videos and rodeos and Formula 1, projected light shows dancing to the music, cold scotch & sodas, sparklers you could play with inside (is that a fire hazard?), glowing lollipops, more dragon-carvings of fruits, and kickin' music.

Then the shows started. We went from live jazz sax played with techno pop in the background, super-speed hip hop dancers dancing to some techno version of bagpipes, and then a pop-lock dancer dancing to techno.

At some point later in the night a chick got up a did a pop cover of Shanaina Twain and a dude did a cover a "West Virginia Mountain Mama." People were screaming. Really, the greatest thing might have been every one's enthusiasm. Genuine enthusiasm. I was screaming and crying inside for joy. Only sheer mental will power got me away from that place; I was ready to make a home on the cozy benches.

If anyone wants to start a business with me...

The rest of the weekend was so delightful it deserves its own undivided attention on another post... TBC...

But for the moment, in case you aren't convinced about the life lust thing: As I sit writing in my hotel room 15 stories above the street, 50 people are gathered below dancing a square dance (I swear, it's to the beat of my folk-y music) while in the distance fireworks explode (for apparently no reason) for the third time I've seen this weekend (more about which I will write later).

Lesson of the day: Life is delicious. Drink up.

Honored Guest... or Lowly Intern?

I sense some growing concern in a few of you (names unmentioned) that there may be a little too much fun being had and not enough work being done. After all, I am here for an internship. That means peon-ship in Washington-speak, right? So what gives?? Now, just one second, folks....

Firstly, what some of you are noticing with respect to my experience thus far in China has much to do with the fact that I'm selective posting. There HAS been office drudgery (sort of). Furthermore, I did travel half way around the world and needed a few minutes (days?) to catch my breath and, uh, relax a little. Thirdly, and importantly, I can't just post ANYTHING I want about the company I'm working for..

Plus, I'm in China. I mean, I remember from back when I was a White House intern, this less-than-bright intern posted something on his blog about "W" coming to visit his office, and when and where. The Secret Service tackled the frontally-lobe challenged intern on his way to work and remotely exploded his computer. No they didn't do that. But he got in big trouble.

Big Brother is watching. That's all I'm saying.

Mostly, formally, lastly and most importantly, the big question: Am I an honored guest, or a lowly intern? There is the cultural matter to contend with here in China while performing my servile tasks as official summer peon. In the States, particularly in my hometown of Washington, the intern holds the position lowest on the totem pole at any organization. When photocopying is to be done, you get s/he to do it. After all, IF s/he's being paid, it's not much and so her/his time is worth the least. Here it's a different story. While my time may be worth relatively little when compared to my Chinese friends, I am a guest and as such am treated that way. The Chinese are incredibly welcoming to and simply seem to love their Western guests. It's almost unbelievable and at times totally embarrassing.

So you see, this attitude kinda mucks up the drudge-intern role a little bit. And if I told you more about my digs, etc. I'd just be bragging. So, suffice to say I'm over fed and well taken care of and if only I hated Chinese food (which I don't) or caught a nasty parasite, I might starve here in China.

A little about what I am learning: Something about ERP software, which is fantastic. I always wanted to know the guts of logistics, in particular global supply chain. The company is making sure I learn something about how manufacturing companies function on every level (I do mean every level). And so I'm visiting the two manufacturing components of the company to hang out and learn. In ServaShanghai I got to wear plastic protection goggles and walk around manufacturing warehouses with HUGE equipment.

I am still desperately hoping that there is hardhat with my name on it in the near future.

Lesson of the day: The Chinese and the Italians would get along swimmingly at the dinner table and on the road. They both order way too much food, most of it looks bizarre but tastes fantastic so you can't stop eating, and they eat family style. They also both drive like nuts, disregard all traffic directions, run reds as though they were not even there. I am thinking Marco Polo and the Stoics brought more of a lasting impact to Latin culture from the East than we realize.

Very Beautiful Cultural Ming Dynasty Water Village Land

As presumed, the straw hats get pointy and plentiful as the landscape gets lusher and wetter. Here are some shots from a water village in the province neighboring Shanghai. It's still really a village today, in most respects, but it's also like a theme park, like "Water Village Land." You have to buy tickets to enter. Likely, there are some places in China that operate like this today - people hopping from shore to shore by boat (the boats reminded me of punting at Oxford but grittier) - but there wouldn't be the well preserved Ming Dynasty attractions, etc.

At one point, I had a "Darjeeling Limited" moment (for you Wes Anderson fans out there) when I stepped into what I was told was a sculpture exhibit but what was, in fact, a sculpture exhibit of Buddhas and a temple. At the end of the tour, which was in Chinese (a language I do not speak), I was led through the temple, shown how to pray to Buddha, led through the prayers, looked upon sternly when I giggled a little, asked when I was born, pointed in the direction of my proper Buddha, given a little card, and asked for 100RMB. The part of me that is Catholic and that knows when I'm being scammed said, "wait a minute," and rejected the golden, inedible fortune cookie. But I did learn that I was born in the year of the Hawk, an auspicious year. Don't worry, Mom. I'll always have luck.

And now, photos... without much explanation, as I am not Sino-expert, nor Ming scholar and so shall not pretend to be:

W elcome to the Venice of Ming China

Merchant's House
Goodbye lady of the house.. I am off to the seas to make money for this bronze panel that will tell the story of our lives.

The seas.

Punting.

I don't know what these dried fish are for, but they intrigued me as I hope they do you.

A little propaganda in the Ming Statesman's house.

But, my, the statesman had a lovely kitchen.

Commerce.

18th century book club (I joke not).

Ming tea garden.

Traffic jam.

Unfortunately, you have to pay extra for these gondoliers to sing for you. We wouldn't pay so our lady ignored us and talked to her friends on the shore.

I can't imagine cleaning clothes in this river makes anything cleaner...

Oh, and I think I found the smell of China. It's a real smell. Of cooking, and burning and life. The cities just smell like disinfectant and pollution so all that gets masked .

Hello, Kitty! Slurp noodle in hotel on Thames when plane lands. Cigarette?

Here are some random observations, in no particular order, about life in one of China's Megalopoli
*Disclaimer: I live in hotels, not with families. And, while these observations occurred directly in the downtown and surrounding areas of Shanghai, China, they likely apply to some aspects of Chinese culture in general.

• The Chinese have a penchant for inventing new cartoon characters (remember the Olympics?). These bright, blimpy personages dominate the public sphere particularly before and during major events, like the Shanghai 2010 Expo and quickly become favorites for all ages. Nonetheless, old goodies like Hello Kitty are not forgotten.

• A long snort, a deep, throaty hocking sound followed by a weighty splat: This sound will always remind me of China. When the sound originates near somewhere your ear or is accompanied by a visual head cock, all you can do is hope that the immanentloogie doesn't land on you or your shoe. According to my friend, during the SARS event, Hong Kong banned spitting (if you can call it that) and now the only folks still doing the nasty deed are cabbies (who discretely spit into personal cups for fear of fine). Personally, I think China should take this Swine Flu epidemic as an opportunity...

• One large, elegant, sweeping arm gesture, originating at the shoulder joint, will indicate to a lost person or a guest where they should go. No awkward finger pointing. No flapping hands. No vague directionals "that way" or "left." No skeezy Latin body contact. Just a great, wide gesticulation of the arm.

• Yesterday I saw the Chinese "Village People" or maybe they were "New Kids on the Block" walking down the street in matching mesh camo tanks with a yellow dog.

• Evidence to Shanghai's outward-looking nature, outlets in hotels and office buildings can manage American, European or Asian plugs. And in case they can't, street vendors everywhere sell adapters. What's Chinese for "Vive La Chine?"
  

• Lately, I find myself identifying a lot with Bill Murray in "Lost in Translation." Not that I'm an old, balding, married man missing my family, or that I'm even in Japan. But I am in an Eastern culture, it's new to me, the language is perplexing and I'm living out of very nice hotels where the clientele is mostly business types and old dudes.

• The Chinese are very good and efficient umbrella walkers. Most people carry them when it rains and many when its sunny. I haven't been stuck yet.
  

• The kids here are damn cute. And they do the sweeping are gesture thing. Which just makes them cuter. I need to get one to say "NiHao" back without giggling and covering his mouth.

• The nouveau riche are the same everywhere, it seems. But they get the best neighborhoods here in Shanghai! One is called Thames River and has plastic dear poised outside the gate.
  

• No matter what district I go to in Shanghai at night... it glows. It vibrates. It shines. It's like New York City at New Years on steroids. It's fabulous. Was someone talking about carbon footprints?
  

• Has anyone mentioned how friendly the Chinese are?
  

• Everywhere has a smell. And I haven't figured out China's (or at least Shanghai's yet). Sometimes, though, you don't figure it out until after you leave a place and identify the smell. The smell of slightly dirty rivers and damp, underground waterways congers memories of Granada, Spain. Smells of burning trash and tropical vegetation reminds me of Haiti. Smells of cooking dough and spices, gypsies, dogs and damp old buildings makes me think of Bologna. But China, I don't know yet...
  

• Welcome back to the old school... and to smoking offices. At least in office hallways. I keep waiting for Darren Stevens and Larry Tate to walk by. Or their Asian equivalents. Wished I'd brought Febreeeeeze for the clothes.
  

• Mainland Chinese, my dear friend pointed out, isn't so bad sound-wise when it comes to learning the language. It has a lot in common with the southwest English accent: lots of "arrr" and "yrrr" sounds. But sounds aside, language learning here presents a different barrier... cultural. The gap is wider than with Arabic (odd, right?). Even telling stories back and forth in English can be tough. And if one party already has a notion of what they think you want to say in their head, well, forget trying to make yourself understood. "I would like wine." "Ok, you try it sometime."
  

• The farther East I get the more painful my yoga classes become. Ouch.
  

• Beware noodle restaurants: So good... so slurpy. When eating noodles, go with friends and make up your mind to slurp and suck your noodles along with them. No judging. Do not go with a weak stomach, especially because there might an old man sitting near you with his shirt open, sweat pouring down his face face, broth flying off his noodles and bouncing off his belly as he sucks away. Wear black.

• Soup (papaya and unnamed sea creature) to make you pretty.
  

• The number of stereotypical-looking straw hats increases the farther you get from a city center. I have high hopes for my trip to a traditional water village today.
  

• A few quotes regarding boys and girls: "Hot girls always get smart men. Lot's of people here. You should go out here tonight." "I will find you two hot bellboys to help carry your stuff down." "I think girl babies always prefer boys and boy babies always prefer girls"

• Thank God bamboo is strong (I think, I remember from 7th grade science).

Lesson of the week: China's on track to build about 4-5 airports per province over the next 3-5 years. Maybe I will go into the the airplane engineering business...

(to look forward to: post on Water Village... and post on Manufacturing and Business in China!! Which is what I am here to be learning, really.)

Lose Self, Lose Face, Lose ATM Card... Shanghai Wonderland!

When you only have 10 days to discover a new city and a new culture, you've gotta figure things out quickly, meet people, see the sights, get lost, and enjoy yourself... When there's a character-based language involved, an Eastern culture, confounding technology, and spectacular sights, sounds and experiences, the resulting first few days can be overwhelming and absurdly wonderful.

I am here for an internship, in case you were, in fact, wondering how the heck I ended up in China this summer. So Friday I hoofed it to work, navigating the bikes, motos, and cars that defy the boundaries of sidewalk and road. After a few hours with my friendly new colleagues, I decided there should be an "Office Space, China." The office is one space, like a department store, that seems to transcend most cultural gaps - except the air here is filled with multi-tonal Mandarin and higher-pitched cellphones ring-tones. Then, of course, there are the difference like, say, being told, "you probably won't find any of this software stuff interesting, probably, since you're a girl..." (thought: "well, one of my brothers is an actor...") Ah, well.....

After work, I had a drink on a friend's friend's friend's rooftop in the French Concession - a lovely neighborhood with trees, micro-brew bars, Moroccan restaurants and many an expat. A large group later found its way to an all-you-can eat and drink sushi place where food, sake and beer keeps coming until you can't eat or drink any more. For only $3-a-head, this seems quite dreamy... until you can't bare the sight of a 2-foot tall sake bottle or the smell of shrimp tempura.

When the established, Shanghai residents went out for more drinks, I decided it would be prudent to take my still jet-lagged self back to the hotel, otherwise I might never get back. Visions of getting lost in a Chinese oblivion danced in my head. However, it occurred to me it might already be too late when my new friend Bob (fluent Mandarin speaker), with the combined effort of my "get home card," could not make clear to the taxi driver where I needed to go.

**A "get home card" is the business card or the piece of paper or even the text message that contains the information in Mandarin and phonetic Mandarin about where you need to go. You can show this and/or read this to your taxi driver. It should be fool proof.. Otherwise you will be driving around a strange city with no idea of where you are and no ability to tell your cabbie how to get you home.**

A taxi ride from the French Concession to my hotel should have cost ~15 RMB ($1.5).. 50 RMB later, my chick cabbie and I were telling each other emphatically in our respective languages that something was up, "DUDE.. this is NOT the hotel.." She called her English-speaking people and I called my Chinese-speaking people and we swapped phones. Heated conversation ensued. The taxi driver lost face. But my lost self made it back to the hotel shortly thereafter with no cab fare to pay ("lost face" cabbie insisted). Another heated conversation and unintelligible debate. I end up winning (by using one of my 3 Chinese words -- "yes." Perhaps more loosing of face?). I handed her some yuan for the cyclical and bizarre trip.

The next day an Indian yogi bent me into a pretzel at a random expensive but lovely studio, I managed two successful cab rides between my hotel from the French Concession, and I met up with a very old friend who flew in from Hong Kong to hang out. For dinner, we went to a place called "M" on the Bund from where you can observe the insane Shanghai light shows on the buildings (happy 4th) and the famous Oriental Pearl (see above photos with large skinny, glittering building). Dinner, a lovely French fare, lasted just over 3 hours and afforded us much time to catch up after a half-decade separation.

Later we had a drink at the nightclub/bar downstairs where (mostly) expats sat about looking swanky and stoic, all ignoring the thumping techno music. It was an odd crowd - but expat crowds tend to be - though not so impressive for people watching. The bold exception was an androgynous couple that swung its attention from male to female all night.

As Sundays should to be... mine was a lovely one, complete with a foot massage. It might have been marred by the discovery that my check card was gone but fortunately, my hotel is lovely and the manager located it in the ATM machine immediately when I called in the morning... somewhat in a panic. You see.. where most places give your card back before you get your cash, here in China, you get cash, then have to ask for your card. Oops.

Any way.. My friend and I masted the Shanghai metro (people are so helpful here) and found our way to the People's Square (see photo) where we wandered for a bit between the main street and side streets (see photo). We found "Shanghai's #1 Department Store!" and discovered that electronics have gotten ahead of themselves here. We found a lovely little shack for foot massages. We haggled for designer knock-off dresses. Mine has a sequined face on it. Necessary. We ate yummy pork dumplings that gave me a belly ache hours later. And we parted ways in the evening she for her apartment in Hong Kong and me for my swanky 5-star in one of Shanghai's many business districts.

I have 4 more days in Shanghai before I head to Jinzhou in Hubei province. More adventures to come...

Lessons of the weekend:

* must learn some Chinese or continue to suffer the consequences of fruitless shouting matches between, say, taxi drivers who let me off in the middle of an intersection when I would prefer to be dropped on a curb and/or at/near a destination
* Chinese food tastes food but it doesn't necessarily do me good...
* Downtown Shanghai life is a light show... better than NYC at New Years

Welcome to China. Do you Approve? :-|

The audio speakers terminal had warned it would happen, so had a sensational article... as well as the State Department: travelers to China would not be admitted before extensive, on-plane screening to ensure that the NIH1 (Swine Flu) virus does not come in with them. If we failed inspection.. into a little white box with us, for a week. Sure enough, upon landing in Shanghai, androgynous figures in bunny suits wandered on to the plane (I watched "Andromeda Stain" before traveling. My thoughts ran back). The health inspectors held a laser gun (a temperature-taking laser gun) up to the head of every passenger. Anyone suspicious had their temperatures taken orally.

The air buzzed with nervous laughter from Chinese and foreign passengers alike. Flashes blinked as amazed participants in the event eagerly captured the moment, already banking (all of us) on the fact that we would not end up in quarantine for a week due to a slight sneeze or due to someone behind us having a slightly elevated temperature or the last name Sanchez.

When the laser-gun slinging, clean suit people cleared our plane, applause broke out. The plane cleaned out in record time. Once through customs I saw a blinking light next to the woman who had unceremoniously, but efficiently stamped me into the country. It asked me if i was totally unsatisfied, unsatisfied, satisfied, or very satisfied with her service. Hell, I thought, I'm here and not in a white box with no windows sitting next to 20 passengers whose names I don't know and no cellphone communication. Well done, China! The newspapers were wrong! My swelling gratitude needed focus and so I popped a thumb down on the big blinking :) and granted the stoic-looking Chinese woman a "Very Satisfied." Thanks! Xiu Xiu!

The rest of the day I spent alternately by myself and in the care of some people from the office where I'll be working while I'm here. Mostly, though, my tired and jet-lagged brain ran with the refrain: "what the %^&* am I doing in China?" with some frequency. At a restaurant we went to one of the guys behind the live sea food counter tried to get me to order the "spiny dragon" which - must say - did look appetizing to my strange sense of what looks appetizing . However, I was glad I said no when I saw the same guy later take his long thumb fingernail and stab the limp foot of the world's largest clam, shake his head, and put it back in the display case. (I noticed the health inspection had given the restaurant a :-| on the enormous sign on the wall and wondered what the difference between :-( :-| and :) were..). We ate fried shrimp.

That night I took my free drink voucher, sat down and had a free glass of wine at the hotel lounge. And a lounge, indeed, it was. Maybe the Chinese are very literal (I am starting to think they are because when I told the kind woman who picked me up at the airport today that I wanted to try drunk shrimp sometime while I was here in China, she found me a restaurant where I could eat raw (alive), alcohol-doused shrimp on my first, jet-lagged night here). There were lounge singers in the lounge. Singing lounge songs. In lounge dresses. The looked like something out of the '70s or '80s. Thoughts ran to some scene from Lost in Translation, though, given the sparse clientele. The phonetic, Whitney Houston-style warbling was lovely, though. I finished my drink, snuck some photos and thought - I'm gonna like China.

Lesson of the Day: be careful what you ask for, you might end up with wet converse and a plate of wiggling drunk shrimp!

Wandering the Piedmont and Alpine towns of Italy

The regional train from Bologna to Turin (Torino) takes about 4.5 hours. About an hour before reaching Turin, the Alps become visible in the distance. The outskirts of the city reveal its recent industrial history (Turin is home to Fiat, Nutella, among other things). But the center of town has all the charm of a large, "European" city with a wealth of history and culture defining and shaping its uniqueness.
We "discovered" Turin one afternoon as we looked through guide books of Italy, trying to determine our weekend destination. Capri.. Elba... Tuscany? Then our eyes fell upon the Lonely Planet page called "off the beaten path." Turin, it suggested, was - for better or worse - still largely ignored by the touring public and should not be overlooked. Generous aperitivi offerings, we read, uncrowded tourist attractions (the Shroud of Turin), lovely views of the Alps. It sounded intriguing so we booked a hostel.

Day one of our weekend was dedicated to walking the city. Discoveries - not listed in tour books - abounded: a 2nd century AD Roman theater at the foot of the famous Duomo, modern art hanging on the sides of buildings and featured in squares, royal guards in uniform (costume-like uniform), lovely little churches with candle-lit Friday services sung in Latin. And, as touted by Lonely Planet, the aperitivi (Italy's version of tapas) were incredibly generous - overwhelmingly so. But at the end of every westward facing street loomed the snow-capped Alps.

As much as we loved Turin, the suggestion of mountains posed such an enticement that we made plans to leave the next day. See full photo album of Torino.

When we said "we want to hike" in unison, the woman in the train station's tourist office - who likened the ability of my friend and I to speak in perfect unison about our wishes for the weekend to the nephews of Donald Duck - randomly suggested Oulx. Oulx? We'd never heard of it. Sounded fun... We took the print out of B&Bs and made reservations at the first one we called.

The magic that Oulx - and the town Sauze d'Oulx, just above - nearly defies description. We took the regional train west into the mountains. The trip took about an hour and half. The higher we climbed, the more astounding the landscape. Our B&B, run by a young Italian couple, was simply a condo, which we had to ourselves, located near the center of town. A bus took us up higher into the mountains where it was suggested we look for hiking trails. The town we ended up in, Sauze, was where - we discovered that day - most of the Olympic 2006 Winter Games took place.
Being the only tourists in town, we enjoyed the full attentions and hospitality of the (mostly) British expats who worked there. The hike we did took us nearly to the top of Triplex, a mountain in the Via Lattea (Milky Way), which is renowned for its fantastic ski trails. The day ended with a large mug of hot chocolate by a fire and later a dinner at The Falcon - an excellent restaurant run by an English couple who transplanted to Sauze a couple decades ago. See full photo album of the Alpine towns.

Following the "unbeaten" paths (finding off-season tourist destinations) in Italy is the way to go. My friend and I learned, in the mountains, what it was like to truly have our breath taken away.

off the beaten path...

more about where and how soon...

Photos of 5 Terre, Porto Venere and Bologna!

I haven't had a moment to blog about these trips yet.. but check out the Italia section of www.portiamills.com for the lasted posted photos of Bologna, 5 Terre and Porto Venere !

Lago di Garda

Saturday morning, some friends and I picked up a car from Hertz in Bologna and drove north - past Modena, Mantua, Padua and Verona - toward Lago di Garda (Lake Garda). Minus getting a bit lost, it took us a couple hours to reach our destination, Riva di Garda, on the northern-most point of the lake. We spent the day walking around the quaint town, eating, hiking in the mountains there and planning our next move.
The next day we drove down the western side of the lake to a town called Limone, recommended by my aunt who enjoys vacationing in Garda from time to time. Limone proved a lovely town, tucked into the base of the mountain side and sprawling along the deep glacial lake. Next, we headed further south, through Mussolini's old retreat and several other picturesque villages.
In one rather large town, we got a bit turned around -- Italian highways are not intuitive for the average American driver. A family of RV-cruising northern Italians helped redirect us toward the bustling town of Sirmione in the far south of the lake. The latter proved as the guide books described: quite touristy but worth the visit for historic landmarks and Roman ruins. The kiwi and blood orange gelatto that I enjoyed before we headed back to Bologna may have been my favorite part of the day, though, aside from the dip in the lake.

photo album from trip