I know that I'm a slender person by US standards, but being in China is enough to give anyone a body image problem. I've spent a little bit of time in Beijing shopping, and I'm a size XL by Chinese standards. Even the biggest size in some items is too little for me. Reminds me of when I had clothes made in Vietnam, and the seamstress kept smacking my behind :)
I spent yesterday with my friend Dai Chao. We met on the Yangzi River trip in 2005 when I was with Vicky, and he quickly became our friend and guide since he was the only one of several hundred Chinese who spoke English. Not even the official "English-speaking guide" who was assigned to our group actually spoke English. We've kept in touch since then, and I wrote a personal letter of recommendation (basically vouching for his spoken English skills and positive personality) for his application to be a visiting student at USC in LA. He recently found out that he will be able to move to the US in September to start his studies, and he's very excited - quite brave, too, for a guy who has never left China let alone lived anywhere else. It's going to be quite an amazing experience for him. Apparently his parents are very grateful for my advice and help, so they arranged a car and driver to take us around Beijing all day yesterday, and we met some of his college classmates for dinner at a fancy restaurant where another family friend hosted an amazing feast of roasted duck. Before this trip duck and lamb were my favorite tasty animals, but I think a month in China has killed my taste for these two meats for awhile. Michael, if you're reading this - this is the country for you, dude! I will also say that I plan to be vegetarian for the first week that I return to the US. Here if the food isn't some huge hunk of meat, it's cooked in copious amounts of animal fat - probably another reason for my body dysmorphia. I'm the same size that I was when I left, but I feel blechy from the change in my usual diet.
This is definitely the best way to travel though. I've had such an authentic China experience on this trip that I'm starting to feel like I actually live here. I've seen the most popular foreign tourist sites, but for the most part we've just wandered some of the local neighborhoods and eaten at wonderful authentic restaurants. Lunch today was on a lake in the heart of the city where a lot of the buildings have been turned into Western-style fancy bar and restaurants for the tourists. But the place that Ms. Xia took us was set back a little bit from the lake and was an older very traditional southern Chinese restaurant with no tourists and nothing in English. It was a bunch of wonderful and refreshing cold dishes with lots of vegetables!
This will be my last post for this time in China. I fly out tomorrow at 1 pm and arrive in Boston on Friday evening. I've missed everyone and can't wait to get caught up on life back home!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
DAMN YOU MONGORIANS!!!
For those of you who aren't South Park fans and don't understand that reference, that is not me being culturally insensitive. That's me quoting the cultural insensitivity of others, which I'm not entirely sure is all that much better :) I stood on the Great Wall today! And I did it under the condition that we in the US call "Montezuma's Revenge", but in China I'll call it "Genghis Khan's Revenge". Hopefully you'll understand that well enough without me having to go into great descriptive detail of my bodily functions these days. I'm all well, though. It's just part of traveling under varying conditions (weather, food, activity level...) The wall was amazing. It really is like the spine of a dragon winding it's way through the hills. The thick and still muggy air made it difficult to see much in the distance, but it was fantastic enough as it was. We hiked about 1.5 km of the wall, up and down ramps and short little steps that make you wonder how Chinese soldiers in heavy armor would be able to maneuver very quickly. The best part was the last stretch up to the end of the section where tourists are allowed - past that point is the rest of the wall that hasn't been restored and opened for tourism. I scrambled just a bit up that rocky stretch (out of the immediate area that has been turned into a natural toilet of sorts for hikers that need a respite from their bladder). The reason for getting past the pee
targets was that I wanted a bit of the old wall to take home for my dear Daddy, and I figure he'd appreciate a non-pee soaked piece.
My response to foreigners the last few days has been funny. We got back to Beijing on Saturday night, and I realized I hadn't seen another Westerner for more than 3 weeks. I didn't even see myself for 2 of those weeks since we were in the absence of mirrors for so much of the time. So I found myself feeling like a Chinese person staring at all of the foreigners yesterday. I was wandering with Shaoyuan and didn't really stop to talk to anyone else that day, but today on the wall I had my first chances to have brief conversations with native English speakers!! It's been a month tomorrow since we left for the field station, and I've spoken directly to 2 people in those long 4 weeks - Shaoyuan and Ms. Xia. While I've appreciated and enjoyed their company very much, I've realized I would go batty if stranded on a deserted island for ever after. Well, I guess I'd be okay while on the island, but if returned to contact with other people I might drive everyone else batty with my incessant chatter.
Four more days, and I'm back in Boston. Aside from the smog and the fact that I can't understand the overheard conversations around me, Beijing feels a fair bit like Boston. Hot. Though I hope it's not that hot there yet. Today reached about 100 degrees, and it's supposed to be about the same for the rest of the week. But I'm not letting it deter me from my sightseeing. I'm going to hit some of the shopping districts tomorrow with Ms Xia, then a good friend from Wuhan is coming up on Wednesday for a visit. He and I are probably going to head for the Summer Palace. I may just wander some of the smaller historic neighborhoods on Thursday, have dinner with my colleagues in the evening, then I board a very long flight on Friday morning. I'll probably write at least once more before I leave here, so stay tuned
for another episode...
targets was that I wanted a bit of the old wall to take home for my dear Daddy, and I figure he'd appreciate a non-pee soaked piece.
My response to foreigners the last few days has been funny. We got back to Beijing on Saturday night, and I realized I hadn't seen another Westerner for more than 3 weeks. I didn't even see myself for 2 of those weeks since we were in the absence of mirrors for so much of the time. So I found myself feeling like a Chinese person staring at all of the foreigners yesterday. I was wandering with Shaoyuan and didn't really stop to talk to anyone else that day, but today on the wall I had my first chances to have brief conversations with native English speakers!! It's been a month tomorrow since we left for the field station, and I've spoken directly to 2 people in those long 4 weeks - Shaoyuan and Ms. Xia. While I've appreciated and enjoyed their company very much, I've realized I would go batty if stranded on a deserted island for ever after. Well, I guess I'd be okay while on the island, but if returned to contact with other people I might drive everyone else batty with my incessant chatter.
Four more days, and I'm back in Boston. Aside from the smog and the fact that I can't understand the overheard conversations around me, Beijing feels a fair bit like Boston. Hot. Though I hope it's not that hot there yet. Today reached about 100 degrees, and it's supposed to be about the same for the rest of the week. But I'm not letting it deter me from my sightseeing. I'm going to hit some of the shopping districts tomorrow with Ms Xia, then a good friend from Wuhan is coming up on Wednesday for a visit. He and I are probably going to head for the Summer Palace. I may just wander some of the smaller historic neighborhoods on Thursday, have dinner with my colleagues in the evening, then I board a very long flight on Friday morning. I'll probably write at least once more before I leave here, so stay tuned
for another episode...
Friday, June 08, 2007
Vomitous Vulture
We'll leave on Thursday for the trip back to Beijing. This will involve a 2 day stop in Erdos again for more merriment. We'll be having one banquet here at the field station tomorrow night for our send off, another in Erdos Thursday night with the General Secretary, and a third also in Erdos on Friday with the regional Minister of Forestry. This is where we'll get all of the permits for exporting the embryos and tissue samples that we've collected in our 3 weeks here. Things in China happen a LOT differently back home. Bureaucratic business happens over copious plates of food and cases of beer and liquor rather than forms, faxes, and phone calls. A major way to gain respect is by showing your prowess at eating and drinking, and lasting friendships are established for initial reasons of business. All in all we will have had 8 such meals by the end of this trip.
I figured I'd make a quick list of things I will and will not miss about working here. So to end on a happy note, lets start with things I won't miss:
1. The toilet situation, obviously. 2. The pervasive smell of dead animal and "lime scented" bug spray that smells more repulsive than regular scented bug spray. 3. The flies that I try to forget originate in the first thing that I won't miss and are EVERYWHERE hence requiring part B of number 2. 4. The taxidermied vulture in the hallway with a 5
ft wing span and the major cause of part A of number 2. It's a gift for the Forestry Minister and stuffed and mounted by our own Mr. Liang. 5. Only showering twice a week. 6. The perpetual feeling that I'm crawling with my personal collection of fleas and ticks (that one, again, is for Jenna).
And the things I will miss:
1. Rooming with Ms. Xia. She's a lot of fun. 2. The food - dried cheeses, yoghurts, homemade noodles, lamb out the wazzoo, little dried fruits that are like a cross between a date and a prune. 3. Gambei - ing (bottom's up) beer or baijiu with our new friends at every opportunity. 4. The temple. That was incredible. 5. Seeing Mr. Liang up to his wrists (or elbows) in the carcass of some animal, barehanded, with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. 6. All of the non-verbal communication with the kind people around here and seeing shocked stares when people catch a first look at my white skin and light hair.
We should be in Beijing by Saturday night, then I fly back on the 15th. That gives us enough time to handle a lot of the paperwork and for me to see a few more sights around Beijing. I still have to stand on the Wall!!
I figured I'd make a quick list of things I will and will not miss about working here. So to end on a happy note, lets start with things I won't miss:
1. The toilet situation, obviously. 2. The pervasive smell of dead animal and "lime scented" bug spray that smells more repulsive than regular scented bug spray. 3. The flies that I try to forget originate in the first thing that I won't miss and are EVERYWHERE hence requiring part B of number 2. 4. The taxidermied vulture in the hallway with a 5
ft wing span and the major cause of part A of number 2. It's a gift for the Forestry Minister and stuffed and mounted by our own Mr. Liang. 5. Only showering twice a week. 6. The perpetual feeling that I'm crawling with my personal collection of fleas and ticks (that one, again, is for Jenna).
And the things I will miss:
1. Rooming with Ms. Xia. She's a lot of fun. 2. The food - dried cheeses, yoghurts, homemade noodles, lamb out the wazzoo, little dried fruits that are like a cross between a date and a prune. 3. Gambei - ing (bottom's up) beer or baijiu with our new friends at every opportunity. 4. The temple. That was incredible. 5. Seeing Mr. Liang up to his wrists (or elbows) in the carcass of some animal, barehanded, with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. 6. All of the non-verbal communication with the kind people around here and seeing shocked stares when people catch a first look at my white skin and light hair.
We should be in Beijing by Saturday night, then I fly back on the 15th. That gives us enough time to handle a lot of the paperwork and for me to see a few more sights around Beijing. I still have to stand on the Wall!!
Seeking Water in the Desert
It's probably a good thing that we're only going to be at the field station for another week before we head back to Beijing, because I think we're developing a serious case of cabin fever. We've collectively decided to head out each day to do something to explore the region a bit further, even if it's just to wander the streets of the same three towns we've already been to. Today we went in search of a spring-fed swimming pool that the chair of the field station drew us a map to. It was an adventure getting there since his directions weren't so great, but after about 10 miles winding along a bumpy sandtrap road, we finally found the pool! We had to go through a couple of farmers' fences which made me proud of my country-girl upbringing. I was the one to jump out of the jeep and pull back the gate, then refasten it once the jeep drove through. This was a self-appointed job since the gates are wooden post and wire a lot like ones I grew up opening and closing with my dad. The top and bottom of the tree branch making up the end "post" of the gate have to slip into wire loops attached to the fence to latch the gate shut. I think my companions were surprised by my hidden "skill".
Sadly, the pool was closed and empty. It's a proper tiled pool measuring about 40 square feet with a deep end and a shallow end, and it's fed by the same pipe that irrigates the local crops. We stopped at a nearby farmhouse and learned that the pool doesn't open until the end of the first week of June when it gets "hot enough". It's already in the 90s here, so I shudder to think what they consider to be hot enough for a swim.
Failing at a swim, we stopped in the nearest town for our twice-weekly shower and found what must be the seediest hotel on the planet - and this is coming from a gal with pretty low standards. Thankfully we weren't staying the night, just hoping to abscond with a bit of cleanliness, but after undressing and standing in a moldy bathroom with a sink, a urinal, and two shower heads (what I originally imagined to be a spittoon must have been a chamberpot), Ms. Xia and I quickly realized that there was no water to be found there either. Our shower would have to wait until after dinner in another town, so we consoled ourselves with ice cream.
We stopped again at the temple from my last post, but everything was closed up so we decided to let three young boys be our afternoon entertainment. They were between the ages of 6 and 8 and the cutest giggly little guys. One of them has been learning a little bit of English from his father who is apparently a computer teacher in the village. The boy kept saying "I'm sorry, and you?", and he could count at least to 39. He might have made it higher if his friends hadn't knocked the Ultraman hat off his head. After a bit more wrestling, the little Ultraman quickly jumped up and skated to a nearby store on his little roller blades and came back with two ice cream bars. He was such a sweetie and opened one of the wrappers and handed the ice cream to me. Only about 6 years old and so considerate and bold! Then he opened the second bar, licked it a few times, and handed the rest to Shaoyuan. Hehehe. I thought they were all so cute and considerate, so I went and got them each an ice cream of their own. I can't imagine kids back home especially at that young age buying ice cream bars for total strangers, but apparently that's not uncommon here. They probably learn hospitality from a very young age from their parents since folks here are very warm and welcoming.
Sadly, the pool was closed and empty. It's a proper tiled pool measuring about 40 square feet with a deep end and a shallow end, and it's fed by the same pipe that irrigates the local crops. We stopped at a nearby farmhouse and learned that the pool doesn't open until the end of the first week of June when it gets "hot enough". It's already in the 90s here, so I shudder to think what they consider to be hot enough for a swim.
Failing at a swim, we stopped in the nearest town for our twice-weekly shower and found what must be the seediest hotel on the planet - and this is coming from a gal with pretty low standards. Thankfully we weren't staying the night, just hoping to abscond with a bit of cleanliness, but after undressing and standing in a moldy bathroom with a sink, a urinal, and two shower heads (what I originally imagined to be a spittoon must have been a chamberpot), Ms. Xia and I quickly realized that there was no water to be found there either. Our shower would have to wait until after dinner in another town, so we consoled ourselves with ice cream.
We stopped again at the temple from my last post, but everything was closed up so we decided to let three young boys be our afternoon entertainment. They were between the ages of 6 and 8 and the cutest giggly little guys. One of them has been learning a little bit of English from his father who is apparently a computer teacher in the village. The boy kept saying "I'm sorry, and you?", and he could count at least to 39. He might have made it higher if his friends hadn't knocked the Ultraman hat off his head. After a bit more wrestling, the little Ultraman quickly jumped up and skated to a nearby store on his little roller blades and came back with two ice cream bars. He was such a sweetie and opened one of the wrappers and handed the ice cream to me. Only about 6 years old and so considerate and bold! Then he opened the second bar, licked it a few times, and handed the rest to Shaoyuan. Hehehe. I thought they were all so cute and considerate, so I went and got them each an ice cream of their own. I can't imagine kids back home especially at that young age buying ice cream bars for total strangers, but apparently that's not uncommon here. They probably learn hospitality from a very young age from their parents since folks here are very warm and welcoming.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Wushen Zhao Temple
What started out as a very frustrating day turned into an amazing experience. We haven't had much to do lately because the capture rate has been pretty low. The chair of the field station is self-appointed to be in charge of collecting our animals, and he hasn't wanted to accept the offers of several of the locals to help catch more. He insists on taking the same two young guys with him every night, and with the full moon interfering, it's just not enough. He's a very nice man, but he seems to want to keep most of the control and money for himself. As a result, we had only 4 females to dissect yesterday and were done by 9 am. We've been engaging in the dance of convincing him that he wants to get more people to help us get more animals – in part by visiting the Ministries of Forestry, Husbandry, and Conservation to get them to gently light a fire under his rear.
Since there wasn't so much to do yesterday, we visited a nearby temple that we were just told about. It's about 20 miles away and is a complex consisting of four temple buildings, a pagoda, and a stupa as well as living quarters for some of the monks. It's walled in concrete with bronze prayer wheels encircling the complex. The site dates back to 1577, but most of the construction was finished in the 1700s. It's been damaged three times in history – most recently during the tragically ironic "Cultural Revolution" in the 1960s when two of the temple buildings, including the three story memorial hall, and over 200 memorial stupas were destroyed. The oldest temple from 1577 survived because it was being used as a school for the commune at the time, and the pagoda and stupa are still standing because their height made them perfect places for flying the Communist flag. Go figure. Fortunately the newest powers that be are supporting the
reconstruction of the two destroyed temples and the restoration and preservation of the entire site.
We walked around the temple complex for about 20 minutes before an old man climbed the stairs at the front gate to ring a gong that called the monks and faithful lay people to the noon service. Shaoyuan and I entered the main hall of the temple that is currently in use (the first of the two to be rebuilt) and were standing along the side when a woman from across the room waved us over to join her and her family. The temple layout and services here are a little different from temples I visited in Southeast Asia. The branch of Buddhism here is Tibetan, whereas it's Theravada in SE Asia. In SE Asia, the monks sit on the floor whereas the temples here have rows of low benches that run from the front to back. About 60 monks, most 60+ years old, sat at the low benches with one bench on the far side reserved for lay people. The monks were dressed in brown, black, and yellow robes in order of seniority, and all were wrapped in cloth of various hues of plum to red. The noon service was also lunch time, so we sat as each received their meal to the sound of chants and the occasional outburst of cymbals, drums, and conch shell horns. Two head monks wore elaborate multicolored vests and tall headdresses that resembled bright yellow mohawks and walked around serving the meal while the faithful lit butter candles and filed up and down the rows receiving blessings from each of the monks.
After awhile, we decide to go to the nearby larger town for our lunch where the woman serving us took one look at me and ran out the door to collect her baby and camera. Her little girl is about 1 year old and cute as can be, but really didn't want to have much to do with me. I posed for a few photos with them, which turned out to be the first of many in these two days. The funniest has been today when we went to another county town, and six young women working in a grocery store all wanted to snap photos of me and them with me using their cell phone cameras. They were so giggly and funny, and I think I smiled through about 30 photos.
After lunch, we returned to the temple to have ice cream on the steps of the temple well shaded by the branches of a large old tree wrapped in prayer flags. As we sat, a younger monk approached us and spoke a little bit of English with me before asking if I would take a look at their signs. The temple has just recently opened for guests, and I think I may be the first foreigner to visit due to its remoteness, but they are prepared with signs at all of the sites in Mongolian, Chinese, and English. He wanted to be sure that the signs are correct since they were translated to English by a Chinese-native English teacher from a school about 300 km away. For the most part, they were well done in the sense that I understood the meaning. Some of the grammar was incorrect, and they'd squared up the text to match the linear form of Chinese characters by word-wrapping and using hyphenation in all sorts of incorrect ways. So I happily agreed to follow him all over the temple complex and with the assistance of my Chinese-speaking colleagues, we got all of their signs translated into native English. The amazing part of this experience is that in addition to a personalized tour of the entire complex, he took us into the living quarters of the highest monk to meet and have tea with him. I got a quick crash course in appropriate customs, and we were given blue silk scarves to drape over our hands an offer to him as we greeted entered. He's a very pleasant older man, but not at all what I expected. While the other monks were all dressed in traditional robes, he was wearing trousers, a long-sleeved red undershirt, and a white button up shirt. The funniest thing is that this holiest of holy men of this temple was wearing a silver ring with the Playboy bunny. Apparently since pornographic magazines are banned in China, Playboy has turned to marketing the bunny as a line of clothing and accessories. So a lot of men in China wear Playboy clothing without even knowing that it is a corporation that thrives on female nudity.
We were served a generous array of dried cheeses, cookies, dried beef, and some sort of thick yeasty yoghurty thing with yellow rice – all very traditional Mongolian food. They were so kind and kept pushing food on us, so I continued to eat even though I was stuffed from lunch and ice cream and wondered how floral the food was. But that's why one should always travel with a good supply of antibiotics – you never know when you might be given the honor of an audience with a high monk. At the end of our visit with him, he presented us each with his blessing and a while silk scarf identical to the blue ones we'd offered him as well as a small gold amulet. We each gave him 100 yuan (about $12) as a donation to the restoration of the temple and were
surprised when we were presented with red fabric-covered boxes holding two stone and silver-plated cups as a thank-you for our gifts. They had us write our names in their ledger because when the restoration is completed in 2 years, they will place our names on a wall listing
their major contributors. Mine will be the first English name at the temple.
Our monk friend then finished leading us around the temple to each of the buildings to finish the sign translations. We developed quite an entourage including a teenage boy with a ponytail who kept snapping photos of me with his cell phone, and I surprised and entertained the painters at the main temple hall. Construction of the three-story main hall has been completed, and there is a team of painters from Tibet who are completing the ornate and spectacularly colorful paintings on the entire structure inside and out. They're funny guys with blue faces from the paint, and it looked like they may have intentionally colored themselves since one young man had deliberately blue outlined eyelids.
We were then taken to another of the temple buildings that houses 103 of the 108 Buddhist sutras. Each sutra is a volume of pages that covers a particular subject, such as math, astronomy, ethics, etc., which one must study to become a well-educated monk. They're housed
in two cabinets with cubicals that measure about 6 inces square and 2 feet deep. The texts are delicately wrapped in yellow cloth with embroidered flaps covering the number of the volume and title of the subject. It's quite an impressively colorful library that makes libraries of ordinary books seem stodgy by comparison. They're written in Tibetan, therefore in addition to Chinese and Mongolian, all of the monks read and speak Tibetan. Even before learning of his formal
education, it was easy to tell that our new friend is very intellectual and spiritual. He has a presence about him that seems older and wiser than his 28 years, and his calm and kind way of
speaking makes you feel very peaceful. The sutras are also taken by the most faithful of worshippers in a sort of walking meditation around the outer wall of the complex. After the evening service, we saw several women who each had a sutra wrapped in a sort of sling hanging over her shoulders and across her back. They walked around the entire perimeter of the wall spinning each of the 108 prayer wheels. One frail older laid walked hunched over and had great trouble with the occasional doublets of steps, but she continued on in her ritual devotion.
Lastly, he took us to the pagoda which is a very interesting looking structure topped with a bronze spire suspending wind chimes. There are apparently only 2 similar pagodas in the world – one in Thailand and one in Nepal. The middle section is square and yellow with pairs of blue piercing eyes painted on each of the four sides. The bottom section is white with an elaborately painted wooden-columned patio and huge sliding doors that were padlocked shut. Our guide held the mighty keys and slid the doors back to reveal a short tunnel with several relics and a huge canvas painting of what the complex was like in its original splendor. This was where he explained to us how much destruction there was under Mao's rule and their hopes for rebuilding.
The whole day had an air of serene significance that is one of those moments for which one could travel for years and never be so fortunate to experience. It's something that you can't find in a guidebook because it's a series of chance occurrences and the people you meet who make the moment special.
Since there wasn't so much to do yesterday, we visited a nearby temple that we were just told about. It's about 20 miles away and is a complex consisting of four temple buildings, a pagoda, and a stupa as well as living quarters for some of the monks. It's walled in concrete with bronze prayer wheels encircling the complex. The site dates back to 1577, but most of the construction was finished in the 1700s. It's been damaged three times in history – most recently during the tragically ironic "Cultural Revolution" in the 1960s when two of the temple buildings, including the three story memorial hall, and over 200 memorial stupas were destroyed. The oldest temple from 1577 survived because it was being used as a school for the commune at the time, and the pagoda and stupa are still standing because their height made them perfect places for flying the Communist flag. Go figure. Fortunately the newest powers that be are supporting the
reconstruction of the two destroyed temples and the restoration and preservation of the entire site.
We walked around the temple complex for about 20 minutes before an old man climbed the stairs at the front gate to ring a gong that called the monks and faithful lay people to the noon service. Shaoyuan and I entered the main hall of the temple that is currently in use (the first of the two to be rebuilt) and were standing along the side when a woman from across the room waved us over to join her and her family. The temple layout and services here are a little different from temples I visited in Southeast Asia. The branch of Buddhism here is Tibetan, whereas it's Theravada in SE Asia. In SE Asia, the monks sit on the floor whereas the temples here have rows of low benches that run from the front to back. About 60 monks, most 60+ years old, sat at the low benches with one bench on the far side reserved for lay people. The monks were dressed in brown, black, and yellow robes in order of seniority, and all were wrapped in cloth of various hues of plum to red. The noon service was also lunch time, so we sat as each received their meal to the sound of chants and the occasional outburst of cymbals, drums, and conch shell horns. Two head monks wore elaborate multicolored vests and tall headdresses that resembled bright yellow mohawks and walked around serving the meal while the faithful lit butter candles and filed up and down the rows receiving blessings from each of the monks.
After awhile, we decide to go to the nearby larger town for our lunch where the woman serving us took one look at me and ran out the door to collect her baby and camera. Her little girl is about 1 year old and cute as can be, but really didn't want to have much to do with me. I posed for a few photos with them, which turned out to be the first of many in these two days. The funniest has been today when we went to another county town, and six young women working in a grocery store all wanted to snap photos of me and them with me using their cell phone cameras. They were so giggly and funny, and I think I smiled through about 30 photos.
After lunch, we returned to the temple to have ice cream on the steps of the temple well shaded by the branches of a large old tree wrapped in prayer flags. As we sat, a younger monk approached us and spoke a little bit of English with me before asking if I would take a look at their signs. The temple has just recently opened for guests, and I think I may be the first foreigner to visit due to its remoteness, but they are prepared with signs at all of the sites in Mongolian, Chinese, and English. He wanted to be sure that the signs are correct since they were translated to English by a Chinese-native English teacher from a school about 300 km away. For the most part, they were well done in the sense that I understood the meaning. Some of the grammar was incorrect, and they'd squared up the text to match the linear form of Chinese characters by word-wrapping and using hyphenation in all sorts of incorrect ways. So I happily agreed to follow him all over the temple complex and with the assistance of my Chinese-speaking colleagues, we got all of their signs translated into native English. The amazing part of this experience is that in addition to a personalized tour of the entire complex, he took us into the living quarters of the highest monk to meet and have tea with him. I got a quick crash course in appropriate customs, and we were given blue silk scarves to drape over our hands an offer to him as we greeted entered. He's a very pleasant older man, but not at all what I expected. While the other monks were all dressed in traditional robes, he was wearing trousers, a long-sleeved red undershirt, and a white button up shirt. The funniest thing is that this holiest of holy men of this temple was wearing a silver ring with the Playboy bunny. Apparently since pornographic magazines are banned in China, Playboy has turned to marketing the bunny as a line of clothing and accessories. So a lot of men in China wear Playboy clothing without even knowing that it is a corporation that thrives on female nudity.
We were served a generous array of dried cheeses, cookies, dried beef, and some sort of thick yeasty yoghurty thing with yellow rice – all very traditional Mongolian food. They were so kind and kept pushing food on us, so I continued to eat even though I was stuffed from lunch and ice cream and wondered how floral the food was. But that's why one should always travel with a good supply of antibiotics – you never know when you might be given the honor of an audience with a high monk. At the end of our visit with him, he presented us each with his blessing and a while silk scarf identical to the blue ones we'd offered him as well as a small gold amulet. We each gave him 100 yuan (about $12) as a donation to the restoration of the temple and were
surprised when we were presented with red fabric-covered boxes holding two stone and silver-plated cups as a thank-you for our gifts. They had us write our names in their ledger because when the restoration is completed in 2 years, they will place our names on a wall listing
their major contributors. Mine will be the first English name at the temple.
Our monk friend then finished leading us around the temple to each of the buildings to finish the sign translations. We developed quite an entourage including a teenage boy with a ponytail who kept snapping photos of me with his cell phone, and I surprised and entertained the painters at the main temple hall. Construction of the three-story main hall has been completed, and there is a team of painters from Tibet who are completing the ornate and spectacularly colorful paintings on the entire structure inside and out. They're funny guys with blue faces from the paint, and it looked like they may have intentionally colored themselves since one young man had deliberately blue outlined eyelids.
We were then taken to another of the temple buildings that houses 103 of the 108 Buddhist sutras. Each sutra is a volume of pages that covers a particular subject, such as math, astronomy, ethics, etc., which one must study to become a well-educated monk. They're housed
in two cabinets with cubicals that measure about 6 inces square and 2 feet deep. The texts are delicately wrapped in yellow cloth with embroidered flaps covering the number of the volume and title of the subject. It's quite an impressively colorful library that makes libraries of ordinary books seem stodgy by comparison. They're written in Tibetan, therefore in addition to Chinese and Mongolian, all of the monks read and speak Tibetan. Even before learning of his formal
education, it was easy to tell that our new friend is very intellectual and spiritual. He has a presence about him that seems older and wiser than his 28 years, and his calm and kind way of
speaking makes you feel very peaceful. The sutras are also taken by the most faithful of worshippers in a sort of walking meditation around the outer wall of the complex. After the evening service, we saw several women who each had a sutra wrapped in a sort of sling hanging over her shoulders and across her back. They walked around the entire perimeter of the wall spinning each of the 108 prayer wheels. One frail older laid walked hunched over and had great trouble with the occasional doublets of steps, but she continued on in her ritual devotion.
Lastly, he took us to the pagoda which is a very interesting looking structure topped with a bronze spire suspending wind chimes. There are apparently only 2 similar pagodas in the world – one in Thailand and one in Nepal. The middle section is square and yellow with pairs of blue piercing eyes painted on each of the four sides. The bottom section is white with an elaborately painted wooden-columned patio and huge sliding doors that were padlocked shut. Our guide held the mighty keys and slid the doors back to reveal a short tunnel with several relics and a huge canvas painting of what the complex was like in its original splendor. This was where he explained to us how much destruction there was under Mao's rule and their hopes for rebuilding.
The whole day had an air of serene significance that is one of those moments for which one could travel for years and never be so fortunate to experience. It's something that you can't find in a guidebook because it's a series of chance occurrences and the people you meet who make the moment special.
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