The Wild East Goes West

This past week found me deep in the southwest of China on spring break. While I had planned much for going to Yunnan and venturing about, a rather problematic series of events befell my life in the weeks following the Ides of March (the Ides having no real significance, but providing a weighty anchor to temporal dimensions of my post). I discovered I’d lost my bank card—my mainstay of funding from the beloved motherland; I overate at an all-you-can-eat/drank Japanese restaurant, fearing the resulting discomfort might be a hiatal hernia; and lastly, midterms struck in the first real week of April. My bank card, after two failed deliveries, remains a conundrum; after a series of doctor-visits, I settled with the prognosis of ‘gastritis’ and the discomfort in my abdomen after two weeks at last subsided; and I survived midterms.

In short, a complicated several weeks made the idea of seven days’ breathless traveling in hopes of taking in everything Yunnan had to offer including the Dai Minority’s Water Splashing Festival in the far southern region of Xishuangbanna a little unnerving. I instead opted for a more rooted base in the small town of Yangshuo outside of Guilin, Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region, famous for its iconic karst peaks. Apparently, this ‘backpacker town’ provided a western escape from the heavily-toured Guilin with more adventure and better scenery. Using the town as a base provided many exciting activities—several of which I had full intention to take advantage: rock climbing, mountain biking through karsts and rice paddies, eating western food, and seeing a light show directed by Zhang Yimou, China’s favorite of the moment, whose popular western-known titles include: Hero and House of Flying Daggers.

This was a great idea. And reality gave it a great start. I arrived on Saturday evening and secured a single room all to myself for a week at 20 kuai a night—not quite $3. That night I had a hamburger (my second real western meal, as I won’t count McDonald’s, in my three months of living in the Orient) and a homebrewed pale wheat ale—probably the only half-decent beer I’ve had in China. In this blog’s youth, I bragged about the size and cheapness of Chinese beer; unfortunately, experience yields the wisdom that all Chinese beer is quite less alcoholic (the highest at 4%, often as low as 2.5%) and all quite the same-tasting.

Over the first three days, I rented mountain bikes and explored local sights and trails, with a day of rest and laziness on the second. I enjoyed a lot of good food, good reading, great scenery, and a very nice light show—Impression: Liu Sanjie. The third day was quite spectacular, as a rode out on a good long ride to Dragon Bridge. On the way back a storm came in, and the sight was truly spectacular. The wind was strong, and the lighting was otherworldly. I road just ahead of the storm almost all the way back (man—mountain bikes in high gear can haul), but at last was caught by the rain. I triumphantly made it back, and after showering and changing into some dry clothes, I treated myself to another burger at another restaurant. And here is where the tragedy begins.

Not an hour later, I feel weird. The night proved to be a rough one indeed. I assume it was food poising, and it was a beast of nature strong enough to wipe out the rest of my week. While only the first night was ‘rough,’ my strength was significantly drained and my appetite is only now returning to normal. And so I caught up a lot on the ‘rest and relaxation’ part of the break, exhausting more of my book than I had expected.

As for Yangshuo, I would certainly recommend it. At first, I thought of giving some small caveat—letting you know it’s not the real China as people have come to say about a lot of things and places. But as I sat down to my last meal in the town, I thought better of saying that. Sure, it’s strange that you can remain comfortably insulated on (aptly named) West Street, eating western food, buying Chinese stuff, and doing completely tourist-catered activities… But really, I see it in a way as a microcosm of today’s real China. There is heavy westernization; there’s rich Chinese tourists with their new Nikons and poor Chinese farmers that live ten minutes away; there’s cheap Chinese products and westerners looking to see China and get some adventure; there’s amazing scenery and its commercialization; there’s everything that’s China today, good and bad.

And that’s the end of my moment in the west…for now.

I have for sometime now been pursuing an internship in China for this summer and during my break was at last offered a position with The Nature Conservancy office in Kunming, Yunnan. This means that The Wild East will be moving west for a longer stay.