Rainbow Connection

I've been on Rapa Nui (otherwise known as Easter Island or, if you habla espanol, Isla de Pascua) four days now, and this is the first chance I've really had to sit down and write something about the experience. My hotel, which advertised itself as having wifi, doesn't necessarily have wifi that WORKS, so only now, when I'm kind of getting bored (note: five days on a small, windswept Polynesian-cum-South American island is too much. Three would have been plenty), have I decided it's worthwhile to lug the computadora down the street to the one restaurant I've found that has complimentary wifi. So here I am.

Okay, so, it's taking forever to upload that one photo, so we'll do fewer pics with this post. Basically, after a short nap (I took the red-eye from Lima, and arrived shortly after 7 a.m.) I left my room to grab a bite to eat and was dismayed to find out that those damned weathermen had been correct - it was raining. It slowed and stopped (I've come to realize this is a pattern here), and I set out in search of my first moai. I came to them, at Ahu Tahai, just as it started raining, which did NOT make me very happy. I begged Heavenly Father to make it stop, and it did - eventually. Which was great. Then the sun pushed its way out of the clouds, and lo and behold, a rainbow appeared over my new friends. The same thing happened yesterday.

Now, I'm not all that fond of getting rained on, especially not while wielding a $600 phone/camera. But without the rain, you can't have rainbows. I believe in God, that there is a governing force in the world, and that sometimes we have to deal with something less than wonderful in order for something beautiful to happen. I realize this is true even if you don't believe in God (to save those who don't the trouble of pointing it out to me). Nevertheless, I was happy for the reminder to be patient in my trials...and for the beautiful pictures.

Line Upon Line

I really wanted to see four things while I was here in South America (I say South America rather than Peru because my next side trip will actually take me out of the country). This weekend I got to see the first of them: the Nazca Lines. The Evil One had told me about her visit to Nazca while I was still in Shanghai, and that she wasn't actually allowed to fly over the lines from Nazca, due to the fact that her employer is the American government and they like to impose restrictions on their employees when it comes to dangerous things (such as flying one of three companies which apparently have been shut down repeatedly due to crashes). I, on the other hand, am an educational mercenary and a good old-fashioned PYP risk-taker, so I paid my $100 to fly over the lines. But not until I'd seen them up close and personal.

This is the somewhat rickety looking tower that Evil was allowed to climb to look at the lines. It's not that tall, but you can see two different figures - the hands and the tree. Here's a picture of the hands as seen from the mirador:

This, on the other hand, is what they look like from the sky:

Now, lest you think that flying over the Nazca lines is as easy as showing up and paying some money, let me tell you a thing or two. We stopped into a travel agency the night we got into town, filled out a form, and paid the money. The agent said she'd pick me up from the hotel at 9 the following morning, and if the weather was okay, we'd take off around 9:30. And up until we got to the aerodromo, everything went well. But the sky was definitely overcast and the mist was snagged on the mountains. Also, the guys at the desk at the aerodromo tried telling me that I was overweight and I'd need to pay an extra 50%. Well, one of the questions on the form I filled out dealt with weight and the weight I put down on the form and the weight they weighed me in at the desk were both over the weight that they said was the cut off, and I wasn't told ANYTHING about it the night before - I understand that more gas would be needed, it could impact safety, whatever, but it was totally a situation where they were trying to screw over tourists. In the end, I griped about it long and loudly enough that they didn't charge me more, but in case you end up at the aerodromo in Nazca looking to do a flyover, watch out for these guys - they're totally sketch.

Even after I'd paid (before he could change his mind again), my ordeal was far from over. I got to the airfield just after nine, but it was 11:50 before the skies had cleared enough to make the flight worthwhile. I checked out the booths of tourist schlock in the first hour, and soon after found myself wishing I'd brought my book, after all. However, soon enough I'd paid my "departure tax," gone through security and went out to board this tiny little airplane.

I mean, SUPER tiny - my family's owned cars that seated more people than that! But in the end, it was all worth it when you got to see cool stuff like this - the astronaut.

Dem DRY Bones

A couple of years ago, I went to the catacombs in Paris (it's really obnoxiously written, due to the fact that French keyboards have some keys in the wrong places - but if you want to use your secret decoder rings and try to read it, it's here). I swear I'm not morbid, but there is something interesting about bones, and something kind of fun about being creeped out by the fact that said bones used to be a person. So when the Evil One told me about the catacombs here in Peru, I decided I needed to visit them. Well, as I mentioned in my last post, the monastery doesn't allow photos to be taken (I wasn't that impressed with it, and I'm blaming this on the Parisian catacombs...and I'm fully aware that I'm starting to sound like some sort of macabre snob, so I'll shut up), but the catedral does, and this was pretty interesting.

This is a shot of a crypt under a chapel in the catedral. I knew that in Europe people used to be buried under churches, but this is the first time I'd actually gotten to see one of those crypts. And in this cathedral, you can actually go under the altar and see where the other half gets buried...

Why is it so important to be buried under the altar? Well, apparently if you're buried under the altar, you go straight up to heaven. That sounds like a bit of Catholic propaganda to me, but you know - whatever pays the bills...

This is also apparently where they buried children. My Mormon propaganda says children go to heaven anyways, so they probably should have saved that space for tax payers, but it's a nice thought nonetheless. Well, no worries - apparently when you bought a space under the church, you only got to keep it for a few years, after which you were moved out to the catacombs. By that time you were probably hunkered down in your cloud with your robe and you didn't care where your bones were. A very practical outlook, I think.

On a normal holiday, this probably would have been the full extent of my weird fascination with dead people, but this is my super summer extravaganza, people. Her Evilness also shared some photos with me from a place near Nazca - the Chauchilla Necropolis. A little language lesson for you - necropolis comes from Greek. Polis, of course, means city, and necro means dead. Put it together and you have something like the above. Evil and I were the only people out there other than the handful of people operating the ticket booth and snack shop in the distance. It was desolate. And did I mention the bones strewn across the ground?

In another life (pun totally intended) these bones were part of funerary bundles lovingly buried with pottery and other items. Presumably some of these had some value to them, since the bones became strewn across the desert at the hands of grave robbers. One archaeological society or another has taken it upon themselves to gather at least the larger bones up and bring some order to the site (kind of like the old woman all skin and bones...you remember that old Halloween song, right???) These excavated grave sites are the result:

It isn't the easiest place to get to but it was an interesting end to our road trip to Nazca. Stay tunes for the REAL reason for our road trip to Nazca - Senora Buendia's tejas! Just kidding...the Nazca lines, of course!

The Strangest, Saddest City

Herman Mellville once visited Lima. He called it the "strangest, saddest city thou canst see. For Lima has taken the white veil; and there is a higher horror in this whiteness of her woe." He was talking about the garua, the fog that the Evil One warned me about, the same fog that caught up the lights of the airplane when we were descending and made it seem as if we were landing during the day, rather than at night.

It's winter here - I'm south of the equator for the first time in my life, and the fog is a winter thing in warmer climes (remember how we got stuck in a train station for hours on end in India, faithful readers? Well, same sort of thing - although except for a take-off yesterday I haven't been able to complain much about this fog). I can understand how it might be kind of depressing, but for me, I'm happy to be traveling again, and the grey skies are just part of the journey.

I've been in Peru for five days now - I should have written before now, but I've been both lazy and busy soaking up the atmosphere. Thursday I spent wandering the Evil One's barrio - Miraflores. What can I tell you about Miraflores? Excellent food, nice parks (filled with gatos!), tourist crap shopping out the ying-yang...Oh, and it's perched on the cliffside. But I'll be writing about that sometime next week, so just wait for it. It's expensive and has a much newer feel about it, but you do have occasional moments of that former colonial feel.

Her Evilness suggested taking the Mirabus to get a glimpse of greater Lima, so that's what I did on Friday, in spite of the fact that I don't really DO double decker tour buses. What can I say? I don't speak Spanish and Lima doesn't have a subway system. This was the easiest way to look around, even if it was a bit on the expensive side. And I finally started to get the feeling that I wasn't in Kansas anymore - inside Miraflores I could blur my vision and sort of convince myself I was still on the Plaza in Kansas City (Evil One, be quiet - you don't have as good an imagination as I do). Once I got a little further afield, it became apparent I was in South America. In the US, we just don't appreciate color enough.

The bus stopped (sorta...see...well, long story, I'm getting ahead of myself) in the Plaza de Armas - Lima's town square. There are a lot of plazas de armas in Peru - in the next week or two you'll see more, trust me. This particular one is home of the Palacio de Gobierno, Peru's equivalent of the White House. Pizarro established this as the center of his new capital.

While the buildings aren't original, the old tyrant himself is in residence at La Catedral de Lima. Apparently they thought they had his body, but while cleaning the crypt underneath the cathedral, someone found a box that said something along the lines of "Pizarro's head," and after much testing they were able to find the right body and reunite the two (why were they ever separated and hidden, you might ask. I'm not sure. Pizarro was a great guy, after all, and he never pissed anyone off, especially not his newly conquered subjects).

After the catedral I was supposed to get back on the bus and take a different route back to Miraflores. Evil told me I could possibly catch the later bus back at the end of their tour, and after discussing this with my guide, this was the plan (I ended up being ready to go an hour early and rather than waste more time on my feet I took a cab back). I wandered around the plaza some more, ate lunch, and went to visit the catacombs under the Monsasterio de San Francisco. Which was cool and all, but their library was what actually took my breath away. Unfortunately they didn't allow photos to be taken of the inside, so I'll leave you with a shot of the entrance to the church.

Death Defying Goldfish

I sent the following email out to my colleagues this week to try to find a home for my three goldfish. The response was overwhelming. Every word of it is true - I would have spun you this tale before now, but...well, it's been a busy month.

Dear staff members,

When I first came here I purchased some goldfish, thinking these were ordinary goldfish and it wouldn't be too long before they were introduced to the porcelain god. Two years later, they have proven to be miraculous goldfish, as three of the five are not only alive but about 3 times bigger than when I got them, in spite of my somewhat neglectful care. In fact, one of them is a

DAREDEVIL WONDER FISH!!!

Three weeks ago, this fish attempted a triple lutz in the middle of the night and ended up outside the bowl. When I found him in the morning, he had dried up and I feared the worst, but when I saw his gills move, I picked him up and plopped him back in the water, where over the course of the next few hours he made a dazzling recovery.

They should be in a hall of fame, probably, but I don't think the airlines will let me transport them, so I am looking for a good home for my wonderfish. Is there anybody who will adopt them? They come with a beautiful traditional ceramic bowl, aerator, plant, and a 4 month supply of food. Act fast, because fish like these are sure to go fast!

Thank you much-

Becky



Here's a picture of my boys...

Deja Su (zhou)

I promised this post two weeks ago, and I'm just now sitting down to write it. Sorry. Technical difficulties. I was exhausted when I got back, then I went and got REALLY exhausted putting up the art fair, and by the time I went, "I really ought to write that promised post about Suzhou," my internet had been disconnected by China Telecom's MORONIC policies (namely, that when you pay for a month's service, that service begins on the first of the month in which you pay...so even though I paid for a month's internet on May 15, it got shut off on June 1st. Bastards.)

Anyways - Suzhou. As you may recall, I visited Socrates there my first year in China, when it was getting just a little too cold. I found myself returning on a school-paid staff trip, when it was just a little too hot. And I couldn't stop myself from feeling a little nostalgic - although that weekend with Socrates wasn't exactly the best of times. The hotel we stayed in was gorgeous, and coincidentally, on the same canal where Socrates once lived, so I walked down it at one point along one of the walks we took back then. Other than the temperature, not much had changed. 

 

Well, Suzhou hasn't much changed. I have. Or maybe I've reverted to what I've always been. The last time I went to Suzhou, I didn't see any of the gardens - I saw the land and water gate, Panmen, and it's adjoining pagoda, and that was all of scenic Suzhou I visited, because the grouch himself didn't feel like looking at gardens and I didn't care to labor the point. This time, I was with friends, and they were pretty happy once they'd seen one garden...afterwards they wanted to go on a canal cruise, and get a massage, and the next day visit the Sex Museum in Tongli. Well, the canal cruise didn't appeal, I'm not much for massages, and I've been to Tongli, thankyouverymuch, so I said, "Cool. Have fun. I'll see you later," and went off wandering.

  

I saw the Blue Wave Pavilion, and a Confucian temple

  

  and a man fishing along the way...

  

I saw some great Engrish

  

the bustling marketplace around a Taoist Temple

 

and the gorgeous Lion's Grove.

 

Those big craggy rocks are meant to represent lions, the traditional defenders of Buddhism, which seems funny to me, since they look nothing like it and even if they did, are lions even indigenous to Asia, the stronghold of Buddhism??? Anyways, I had a great weekend and so did my friends, doing their thing, and even though I wasn't quite ready to go back to work Monday it - as always - felt good to get out of Shanghai, especially to a place with as nice a vibe as Suzhou.

And now, I have less than three weeks left here - it's hard to believe. On one hand, that seems like forever, but when I think about everything I have to do before I go, it is clearly not enough time. One way or another, I guess I'll get through it.

Long Wander Saturdays

I love junk. I think this must be a tendency I get from my mom, for, as my dad will gladly tell you, my mother is up to her eyeballs in junk. I go in for a slightly different kind of junk than her, which is good, since there are fewer Wal-Marts here in Shanghai and they have distinctly different merchandise, but I can't deny the fact that I do like buying stuff. And on the streets of Shanghai, usually here in Hongqiao along our very favorite road, Hongmei Lu, on blankets spread out on the sidewalks, you can buy a wide assortment of junk. And somehow, until today, it never occurred to me to wonder where the purveyors of all that crap got it from.

Today I found out.

Last week I paired my trip to the fabric market with a long wander around Tianzifang (which I still haven't written about, but I will before I leave Shanghai, as it's one of my most favorite places here). It was a nice chance to stretch my legs and kill some time before a friend's housewarming party, and I decided to do the same thing after this week's fab market run (in which I had to have one tailor work some more on the cashmere skirt they made me, and ordered 3 more pairs of corduroy pants from another tailor, who totally nailed the ones I ordered a week ago). I decided that after I would walk from the fabric market to the Peach Garden Mosque via a gritty, local area (gritty as in: I've learned how to tell which eggs are the delicacies with chick embryos in them...they have a slightly green cast. I know because at least one of them was cracked open at every stall selling them so you could see they were selling you good, fertilized eggs. Yum). There wasn't a lot to see at the Peach Garden Mosque, so I went onward to the Confucianist temple on Wenmiao Lu.

Now, you might rightly ask exactly how many temples I've seen in my travels abroad. And you might rightly ask exactly how different they can all be, even if we are just limit our talk to Asia. The truth is, not that much, and yet, I have been to a fair number of them. But I'll let you in on a little secret. Sometimes, in Shanghai, you forget that you're in Asia (well, apart from the tons of people crowding around you speaking Chinese). Sometimes it's nice to be reminded that there are things here that are different, in a nice way. Like so:

And thanks to the rain today, it was even less crowded than anywhere in Shanghai has any right being. It was nice. And hey - your 10 kuai admission price came with a tea ceremony.

Little caveat for you, though - the girl preparing your tea will make six or seven different kinds, and will go on making you as many kinds of tea as you like. It's a nice way to rest your feet, but if you haven't scheduled any bathroom breaks on your wander you may find yourself in trouble later on...

I finished checking out the temple, then went on my way toward my ultimate goal: the Dongtai Rd Antiques market. However, I forgot to orient myself and when I came to a major road I started following it, thinking I was on Xizang Lu when I was on Renmim Lu, and went a block or so too far. This turned out okay, because while I was figuring my problem out I realized I could stop by the Bird, Fish, and Insect Market. If you are starving to see some wildlife, like, perhaps a squirrel or chipmunk, this might be the only place in Shanghai to do it. Of course, though, these aren't exactly wild. And I warn you, it's not for the faint of heart. This place wouldn't exist in the states because it would get PETA all up in arms...but we're not in the states. And the most amazing thing about this place is the crickets. The photo above here? Those are cricket cages, and they're all filled up. That bit in the movie Mulan about the lucky cricket is true, and it's not a thing of the past. The sound alone is amazing. And these are not our friendly little tiny American crickets - these crickets could beat the snot out of a grasshopper.

So I finally had my fill of crickets and other assorted living things, and crossed the street over to the antique market. It really was a treat.

You can buy everything from silver "Tibetan" jewelry here to ceramic Mao statues to paintbrushes, hardware for doors....all sorts of crap.

If I hadn't blown all my spending money this month at the fabric market on leather pants and Chinese style winter vests, I might have done it here. As it it, when I get paid again I might come back here and get some crap for my nearest and dearest. Best part of buying souvenirs here? You'll never have to worry about taking off the "Made in China" sticker.