Thoughts from China (Guangzhou, Chengdu, Jiuzhaigou)

Some call it 'culture shock', but personally, being a 'regular' to Guangzhou (China) tends to reduce this experience quite a bit. Consequently, the culture-shock I experience tends to be short-lasted (perhaps a few minutes? An hour if extreme) and hard to come-by.

It really only shows through when I reach to put my seatbelt on in the backseat (which is not required by law in the city of Guangzhou) or when I almost kill myself by looking the wrong way before I cross the road (cars driving on the opposite side of the road to what I'm used to).

Despite the fact that I can hardly read a word of Chinese, or utter any Mandarin, Guangzhou feels almost homely. Homely not because I love it (the smog is choking), but because it has a place in my heart.

Either way, at the end of the day, I'm still a foreigner (at least, that's the Customs gate I go through when I arrive), and so there are bound to be thoughts and comments about this strange city that I find myself in. So here, laugh at my attempt to summarise an entire three weeks in China into one blog post without sounding too boring (hopefully!)

Food, glorious food

One of the most characteristic things about Guangzhou is the food. I kid you not, every time I visit I fear for my vascular health. Almost every lunch consists of yumcha (sitting in loud, noisy rooms brightly lit with artificial lighting) and every dinner filled with roast goose, chicken (always), choy sum, and tea. Always tea. I prefer Puer but Tie guan yin is a close second.

One of the higher class restaurants I went to. How do I know it's higher class? Because no one's allowed to smoke indoors.

There's always a give-or-take. At one restaurant I frequented, the food was delicious (the chicken, by far, was 100% worth its price and absolutely yum-inducing), if you were willing to pay the price of being in an enclosed building with people who ignored the 'No Smoking' signs. It's a sad fate to admit but over the course of three weeks I became accustomed to the smell of smoke, and no longer gagged whenever a waft of it crawled up my nose and tingled my chemoreceptors (this also likely contributed to the nasty cough I developed and in thirty years time if I develop lung cancer I'll blame it on this).

"Nothing's illegal in China"

Not to be taken literally, but this was a phrase that a few friends and I coined in 2012, because often you see things happening in China that make you wonder if there are any laws at all.

Several times when we had five people, we'd call a five-seater cab or car and they'd let us four people sit in the back. Granted, one of them was a child, but nonetheless, this just isn't acceptable in most countries.

If I ever saw this in a first-world country I'd
1. Be horrified
2. Probably applaud at their skill and bravery (and, perhaps, their stupidity)

Smoking in front of a 'No Smoking' sign? Crossing the street when the traffic light is red? And don't get me started on Copyright (which means absolutely nothing in China). However, that said, China is also particularly strict on certain laws. For instance, driving with any bit of alcohol in you can lead to jailtime. That makes sense when you consider the extremity of traffic in China (especially in Chengdu -- Guangzhou not so much).

A side note should be made about crossing the streets in China; far too often it seems like a real life game of Froggy the arcade game. You can always spot a foreigner or tourist by the way they cross the road.

Rich on the right, the rest on the left

Inequality in China is everywhere. It's remarkable that you can be walking past homeless people, apartments only a few metres squared in area, and crumbling infrastructure, and then suddenly find yourself in another Universe as you enter a luxuriously-looking hotel or building.

I was walking along the streets shopping for a beanie when I came across this street-performer.

He was working entirely based on donations, and anyone could feel free to take his works of art.

Though, arguably, it is not a great occupational status to be a 'street-performer' in Guangzhou. It, perhaps, is not so much a 'performer' occupation, but more of a 'talented/skilled begger'.

You'd think that in a country with so many people that being a 'street-performer' isn't so bad after all. But of course, that is not true. In fact, I'm positively sure that this individual would earn a much higher amount of money in a country like Australia, even accounting for the differences in the cost of living.

And perhaps the reason for this 'stingy' nature of the Chinese people comes down to the fact that there are just so many people. One thing that I really realised this year was the sheer number of people in China really affects how society works. But more on that later ('People, people everywhere')

Often you'll walk around poor streets with buildings that are dirty and crumbling, filled with drips of water (you'll probably have one of these land on your head sometime and trust me, it's gross) and rubbish lying around.

The crumbling rooftops of some lower-class accommodation, not far from the city centre

It used to not surprise me very much, back when I was younger and I visited China when it was still very much a developing nation. Often seeing these sights isn't so horrifying because you remember the context that we're viewing these in -- this is a country that's still in the process of improving.

But, nonetheless, it's confronting when you turn the corner and you see something like a shiny, bright Ferrari facing you.

Skyscrapers

Need I say more?

It's both beautiful to look at, but also sad because it means you can hardly see the stars in China (unless you go out to rural areas).

Although the cityscape itself offers a new, beautiful view of the world, it also retracts from nature. It's a bit of a 'give some take some' situation. Despite that, it's amazing how you can see such extreme industrialisation and urbanisation in one corner of China, but an hour or two away and things take a dramatic change. Go even further and you hit the mountainside and it is absolutely stunning. (A short allude on Jiuzhaigou at the end of this post)



After decades of intense urbanisation in the heart of Guangzhou, with skyscrapers dominating the skies and a dense, brown smog crawling over the city, it suddenly dawned on the people of China that they actually missed nature. 'Greenery' was something that they grew to miss, and it was only once it was gone that they realised how much they should have treasured it.

But, China finds a way. With sheer manpower, money, and determination (if the Chinese want something done, they always find a way), the past few years have seen a resurgence of 'nature', found in all shapes and forms. Most common are parks.

And, mind you, these are some of the most remarkable and magnificent parks I've ever seen. They are incredibly beautiful and teeming with life; you tend to forget you're in such a bustling city when you find yourself here among the trees.




It's a change from the intense cityscape that dominated the Industrial Nation of China, and perhaps marks a slow transition of China into a more developed nation (albeit ever so slowly, with much room for improvement still to come). It's a nice thought to finally see quality of life improving in the environmental aspect, at least in Guangzhou (arguably, my short experience in Chengdu didn't really signify much of this -- it seemed to me to appear quite like Guangzhou did many years prior, before environmental control of pollution seemed to be a priority).

Though arguably, it's hard to escape the background presence of the city. But hey, it's a start, and I would be lying to say that it isn't remarkable how quickly things have changed.

You can see the city centre of Guangzhou in the background.

Good health

Traffic is a bitch in China. So that means one of the most common forms of transport are your good ol' two legs that your paternal and maternal genes blessed you with from the day you were born (in most cases).

That's not the only reason, but it's contributed to the health aspect of China. Ironically, despite the smog, the cigarette smoke, and the questionable hygiene practices, people of China put a lot of emphasis on being 'healthy' in a physical sense.

Exercise equipment is free to use and found at such high frequency that you wonder how on Earth are there always people using it? Fast food isn't a common thing, and perhaps the pressure of social media that promotes the ideal 'thin' image also contributes (in fact, it most likely does -- aided by the Chinese mentality to 'be the best'), but all in all, you really see a lot of elders with quite good health. It's quite remarkable, to say the least.

And there's quite a big emphasis on good health in Chinese culture. Every year when they make New Year wishes, or on birthdays when you celebrate someone, you always, always say (especially if they're an adult) "I wish you good health" (身體健康). You'll be surprised how important it is for them to eat healthy and exercise plenty, and it reflects in their obesity levels (which are considerably lower than in first-world countries such as Australia). This may not be the only factor (in fact, it surely isn't), but health is a very big thing in China, and it's hard to miss when you see oldie grandmothers who are more flexible than you.

I cannot do that.

People, people everywhere

From the extreme work hours that the Chinese people work (7 days a week, 15 hours a day -- that's my hairdresser's working hours), to the need to turn a blind eye to the homeless on the streets. There are a thousand problems in China and most of them, I find, can be linked to the sheer population number.

New Year's Eve; this wasn't even in the city centre. It was as close as we could get before the sheer numbers stopped us from travelling any further.

When you have a country with such a high population number (1.36 billion in China; 13 million in Guangzhou alone -- i.e., 1,708 people/square km. For contrast, the entire population of Australia amounts to 23 million. Yes, one city in China has half the total population in the entire country of Australia), it means human lives are dispensable. Human lives start to be worth less to the country. It means there is no shortage of man-power, skills, and labour, and it leaves room for abuse. 

If you won't work for minimum wage, then someone else will. If you won't work for half of minimum wage,  someone else will. If you won't accept the long working hours, someone else will. If you don't fight in the struggle for survival in a country with intense inequality, then you will struggle and someone else will climb over you. That's kind of the mentality here, and I can't shake the fact that everyone has to adopt this mentality because, well, if they don't, they won't make it at all. Perhaps that is why the Chinese people work so hard and are so determined to accept anything they can get. 

I know I paint a picture like it's terrible; it really isn't, though. The people of China are starting to signal a change. The internet and globalisation has spread the radical ideas of equality, fairness, and a better society where individual lives matter, and despite the Government's screening of Internet (where-by Facebook, Youtube, Twitter, and other social-media sites are blocked, including Blogger), the people of China are not dumb or stupid.

So occasionally a nice thing happens in China and it surprises me; it really does. I once dropped 10 yuan on the floor (equivalent to around $2 in Australia) and this woman from the bakery I just purchased lunch at ran outside and chased me for about 50 metres to hand it back to me. Ten years ago and I feel like this would be a rarity -- anyone would pocket it themselves; 10RMB is not very much, and she's on shift. She had no obligation to find me, so why would she?) So although on a wider scale, humanity seems to have lost its value, on closer examination we tend to remember that everyone is still human.

Also, I passed a massive group of Security guards one day and thought it was worth a photo. No, there was no special event or festival going on, it was just your casual day-to-day change in shift. So yes, over one hundred security guys were standing there, smoking, chatting away, browsing on their phones, just doing the usual. Why so many people? Because there are so many people.

Family means more than you think

In China, families are big and vast; at least, for me. That's because my parents were born early enough to avoid the restrictions of the one-child policy, and thus have many siblings, who have children of their own, and so on.

One thing about China is that because there are so many people, it means you really treasure your family. Yes, there are plenty of friends and people to meet out there, but family will always be family, and in Chinese culture, blood-ties mean a lot.

Despite only seeing my family members, perhaps, annually, there's something that holds us all together. And not to mention the fact that the Chinese family tree is far too complex for my understanding.

But either way, this is just an allude to emphasis the reason why I visit China each year, and also to segue into this cute picture of my 1st cousin 1st removed.

Appreciate the small things, including the toilets

Growing up in a first-world country means you forget the simple privilege of having a clean toilet to use. Wandering out into the rural mountainside of China on the Tibetan Plateau meant a serious decline in the quality of toilets, and it made me realise that this is a daily reality for many, many people.

Our tour group found ourselves stuck in a traffic jam during the journey. We had no idea how long the traffic was going to hold us up, and it had already been a two hour trip already. As the time passed, I grew exceedingly nervous for my bladder (being a female, it was considerably harder for me to urinate on the side of the road without being spotted and judged by many people).

Stuck in traffic

Almost half an hour passed, and oh boy, we were all growing restless.

Thankfully it cleared up and we arrived at our destination with a total trip of three hours -- a long time without a toilet. The bus pulls into a pit-stop and we rush off to use the toilets. Surprise! 1RMB fee! Okay, whatever, I really need to go so get the money out. Oh, by the way, remember to bring your own toilet paper (Oh sorry? You expected toilet paper to be given? What is this? A first-world country? As if!).

And you know what? The toilets are pretty much a long canal that you squat over. Culture shock, bam! The only privacy you have is a set of walls that separate each person from the individual in front and behind them. There aren't even enclosed cubicles, so you better hope that as you walk along that you avoid any eye-contact with anyone else doing their 'business' and that no one else watches you. To top it off, don't look down either (unless you fancy seeing other peoples' waste streaming down a tiled canal) and pray that you don't slip and end up with one of your feet in the canal!

When you gotta go, you gotta go. So as I was squatting there, contemplating life, I thought of how even basic necessities such as a toilet can be significantly different in countries, and inequality threw itself in my face again. Bam.

An allude on Tibetan Culture

One of my favourite things about this entire trip was learning about Tibetan Culture.

Entirely painted by hand

From the architecture and cultural design of houses, the food, the traditions and customs, and the clothing of the Tibetan people -- it was all so radically different to life in Sydney, Australia. 

It was interesting, though, that despite the seemingly big cultural divide, that we're all able to still interact and laugh and have good times. Something can surely be said about the human condition and/or humanity as a whole, but I'm not a philosopher and I also should be packing right now but more on that later.

Participating in some of the traditional customs was also an interesting experience; for instance, placing some money under a rock on this feature in one of the temples we visited. We were also invited to participate in a Tibetan ritual to wish for good luck and blessing, involving holding a rock and encircling a particular Tibetan religious structure (it was a pile of rocks surrounding a pole, with colourful fabrics with religious words and blessings written on them draping from the top of the pole, creating a really beautiful structure) whilst thinking of wishes, and then ending with a two-handed throw of the rock into the pile of 'lucky rocks' in the centre. I am entirely unsure if that paragraph just made sense, but hopefully it provides you some sort of an idea.

Several times the tourists were also heavily 'chased' by many Tibetan women who were selling various trinkets at over-charged prices (of course, this can be remedied by some hefty bargaining skills). It was an experience altogether -- trying to avoid them. (Make no eye-contact, show no interest! I was actually worried that when they caught me taking a photo of them that they would mistake this as interest in their products, but thankfully I managed to avoid this). One of them even followed a woman on our tour for two hundred metres! (And yes, the woman did eventually give in and purchased a stone-pendant for 10 RMB).

Sichuan culture itself is also quite different to anything I'd seen. A spectacular Sichuan Opera show was shown to us, and even hearing the Sichuan dialect itself was entrancing.

And, to anyone who hasn't seen it before, I really think it's worth your time to see the Sichuan face-changing technique (Bian lian, 变脸, which originated in Sichuan Opera). It's a very big cultural sight to behold, and is very well known. Despite the many times that I've seen this throughout my Chinese-influenced lifetime, it is still so captivating to view every single time (even if I do know the trick behind it!)

How breathtaking it can be to stand high-up

We were dropped off at a traditional Tibetan rural village. It was amazing to see how traditional all of this was. Even the bricks that made up the buildings were hand-made and cut from rocks themselves (making them all irregular shaped and unique in appearance). It was amazing to see, coming from a city where artificial, man-made bricks are everywhere. Sometimes we forget how beautiful irregularity can be -- each brick was unique and that was something that captivated one sense of beauty.

Outside we also had the opportunity to see a Tibetan Wolf up close and personal (wow!).

I spent a great deal of time taking portraits of Bucky over here (not really his name)

Some of us even had the courage (Bravery? Stupidity?) to pet the wolf (includes myself), though under careful and cautious instructions (the wolf was also chained).

Despite the fact that I was already over three-thousand-metres above sea level, I also managed to run up a small mountain in the highest point in the plateau that we visited.

Yes, that meant that for a split moment, I was perhaps one of the highest people in the entire vicinity. As I stood on that mountain I looked down into the traditional Tibetan rural village that lay ahead and glanced at the mountains on the horizon that lay at eye-level with me.

And I can assure you, that moment was breathtaking. Besides the pun on the fact that it was, indeed, literally breathtaking (due to the lower oxygen availability), it was the most empowered I had felt in a long time.

Something about the crisp air, something about knowing that you could possibly be the highest-up individual in a large area, and that I was standing at the highest altitude I had ever reached in my nineteen years of life. Something about all of that made me fall in love with that moment. It will be a moment I will never forget. 

Occasionally in life there comes moments like these where you just want to scream to the world, because the absolute thrill of that moment digs up a hidden pouch of energy deep within you. I can assure you this was one of those moments, and I spent a good deal of time screaming to the mountains to hear my echo, and laughing because of all the endorphins that were coursing through my veins. It was a beautiful moment and I realised that these moments propel me through life and give me the urge and motivation to travel.

Origins of Religion

Visiting temples let me reflect on the idea of religion, and realise how important religion is to many Tibetan people.

High up in the mountains was a well-known and beautiful temple that we had the opportunity to explore. It was stunning and incredibly... 'organic' to say the least; surrounded by mist and trees and that moist smell of nature, we entered the temple and the religious atmosphere was incredible.

Despite being non-religious personally, it almost felt as if the entire atmosphere changed inside some of the rooms. It made me reflect a lot on religion as well, and what it meant.

Later when we visited a museum (which focused on Sichuan and Tibetan culture) there was an entire exhibit based on religion which furthered these thoughts.

Religion has grown to play a significant role in the Tibetan People's lives, and it's amazing to see how important it is to them and how often it shows through. In the first-world, religion has a comparatively lower influence on the people, and seeing this contrast was interesting, to say the least.

Furthermore, it makes you think where the origin of religion is, and how it has changed with generations and hundreds of years.

I'd talk plenty on this topic but alas, this is not the time.

Jiuzhaigou 九寨沟

One of the most stunning places I have ever seen. It was entirely worth the sub-zero temperatures, the trek up the mountains, the breathlessness and shortage of oxygen. It was worth the terrible toilets, the mass of people, the crowds, the runny noses, the painful feet (several times I thought I was actually going to develop frostbite). Because it was beautiful.

I was never a fan of winter (summer and spring are my personal preferences) but even I had to admit that there was something about the snow on the trees and the white wonderland that took me back to my young days where nothing mattered, and something like snow fights and days entirely filled with fun were a reality.

Exploring such views and having the opportunity to just see sights that I never even thought were possible was an entirely new experience. These were pictures that I expected to only ever see in magazines or movies, or in paintings and imaginative artworks, because who would have known that nature could actually be so beautiful?

Jiuzhaigou was absolutely one of the best places I've had the pleasure of seeing in my life and it will forever hold a piece of my heart. Why? Because it was one of those places that actually make you whisper 'Wow...' to yourself. The sights that take you by surprise and make you do a double-take. The sights that hit you in the face and slap you into reality (just as you start to wonder 'Is this a dream? Surely something so beautiful must be a dream...')

Jiuzhaigou itself is a World Heritage Site and is a National Park, and is protected due to its wildlife and landscape. In fact, some villages are still found there where Tibetan people still live even today.

I know it sounds ridiculous when I write it here and accompany my words with simple photographs (that only barely do the place justice). It is, one hundred percent, better when you see it with your own photoreceptors. Not only is it just the light and the sights to see, but the smells and textures, and the sounds -- almost all five senses can be stimulated delightfully, and as ridiculous and over-the-top this sounds, I promise you I'm not lying. The place is beautiful and you just wonder how something so gorgeous can possibly be natural?

The colours of the water is apparently due to the various depths, minerals, and residues that are found in the water (some of which have high amounts of calcium carbonate). But regardless, seeing those aqua, turquoise, and green colours shimmer in the sunlight is something that seems almost fake.

That's enough of a sugar-coated post on Jiuzhaigou (though, I promise I'm not hard-serving it. I am, in my perspective, still soft-serving it). Most of all I just want to say that it was a beautiful place to visit and I would highly recommend it to anyone in Sichuan.

I'm told the National Park is uniquely beautiful in each season of the year. For now, winter has proven to be nothing below par and I can't say that enough.

Jiuzhaigou has been good to me, and a big part of me hopes that it will stay protected and beautiful for many decades to come, so that all of you, and perhaps my (hypothetical) children and grandchildren, will also have the pleasure of witnessing its beauty.

Till next time, Jiuzhaigou!