Sampling China on a Stick

Some of our greatest joys in China come from amusing translations. Warning signs might say “go up and down the stairs to be more aware” or “Don’t be crowded; Carefully fall down.” A museum plaque taught us that “Traditionalliteraryintentionsandoutstandingmartialachieveme ntsworshipedtogetheristotellfuturegenerationsthatthegovernan ceofthewesternregionswillbesupplementedbycivilandmilitaryc ooperationinordertounitesurviveforthousandsofgenerations.”

But, our biggest guffaws came from using our translator app to read restaurant menus. Would you like a helping of “immortal blessings” or “dragon breath horse flank?” How about “periwinkle plains?” Even when we can recognize a dish, ordering from restaurants has its perils here. For instance, when we saw “spicy chicken,” we rejoiced for the familiar words, ordered it, and could barely eat it—there was literally more bone and more spice (including these little seed casings that we lovingly named ‘alien pods’) than edible content.

Given this challenge to feeding ourselves, we have taken to eating only what we can see beforehand. Thus, street food has become a staple of our diet, usually eaten while strolling in a peaceful back alley and being photographed by the locals.

We are especially fond of all the things you can find on a stick—eggs rolled in cumin, salted meat, boiled vegetables, squid flayed to look like a pineapple, slices of glutinous rice cake with dates and rosewater. The most beautiful of these skewered delights were the tidy rows of fruits–kumquats, strawberries, and kiwis–all encased in an amber candy coating that glowed like blown glass in the sunlight. (Jack argued that he’d read about this dessert in one of his school books, so he ought to be able to try one, cheeky little thing!)

While Chris sees our time in China as a quest for cappuccinos, I rather view it to be like enjoying this colorful kebab—nibbling tasty morsels, rather than sitting down for a full meal. While we have not spent more than four days in any single place, we have experienced a good taste of many of them: Beijing, Luoyang, Denfeng, Xi’an, Turpan, and Kashgar. Here are some tidbits for you:

On our first day in Beijing, we were lucky to experience the enormity and patriotic fervor of the 70th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China. If you were in Washington, D.C on July 4th, 1976, you have an idea of what it was like—masses of people, extremely tight security, road closures, subway closures, and flags adorning everything! That whole subsequent week, ‘golden week’ it’s called, all of China was on holiday. While visiting the Great Wall with many of these happy travelers, I learned that I would much rather climb thousands of steps than wait in line for hours to catch an overpriced cable car (I know, that should have been obvious.) The irony of mounting that famous wonder of the world alongside our Mongolian friends from the sleeper bus was an amusing, if not complicated, link to the past.

We picked Luoyang as a stop on our way to the Shaolin Temple, mainly because of the famous grottoes there. We thought that maybe the rain and an early morning start would decrease the number of Chinese tourists…nope! They were out in force, along with their umbrellas that had funny English translations and their zip-on plastic booties (I also bought myself a pair; it was SO wet that day).

Deng Feng is the town that houses folks interested in visiting the Shaolin Temple, birthplace of the martial arts. As usual, we were there with many Chinese tourists, but this time the weather was kind to us, and we had a backstage pass for training with the monks. Even more exciting than that, though, was our hike to the Sanhuangzhai temple/Three Sovereign Palace there. (If you visit China, this out-of-the-way wonder is worth the work!) Given my lesson on cable cars back at the Great Wall, I requested that we climb up to this architectural wonder. Have you ever been on a stairmaster machine for four hours? How about one that is suspended on a granite cliff thousands of feet in the air? How about in the black of night? I would totally do that again!

Outside of Xi’an we splurged on an English tour of the Terra Cotta Warriors; it was delightful to converse in-depth with a local person at last (we have not found many English speakers, and our Chinese language studies enable us to get around, but not to share much with the people around us). Inside the city, we delighted in riding tandem bicycles with our Swedish friend, Klas (from the sleeper bus!) atop the ancient city wall—Chris even got to chase down a couple who made off with one of our bikes! I counted seventeen bride and groom couples all done up in silken splendor, having their portraits taken against the stone and city backdrops.

Turpan, I will remember as the city of grapes. They hung over our heads in courtyards, walkways, and restaurants. Local families greeted us by offering their home-brewed raisins. It’s a desert oasis, offering sand dune climbs to the boys’ delight, and amazingly preserved ancient city ruins. I will also remember how fortunate we were to make a friend here—thanks for joining us, Jiang Jiang!

At last, here we are in Kashgar, the last outpost in China before crossing into Central Asia. It is still a legendary marketplace, and the features of the people who live here reveal a history of human crossroads. The rebuilding of the ancient city was controversial in international circles, but I confess to loving it—clean walkways free from motor vehicles in a labyrinth of booths and workshops, all adorned with geometrically patterned tiles. Children play freely here. Old men in embroidered caps and old women in sequined dresses wink as we pass by. I am so happy that we came.

I hope you will enjoy sampling China in your own way one day!