Blog

September 1 - 1999 Beijing

After twenty-four hours of travel we have reached the other side of the planet (twelve time zones from our home in rural North Carolina). We feel lucky to have made it here on schedule since our plane was among the last to make it out of the Charlotte Airport before the coming hurricane shut it down. Then we had a mechanical problem that delayed our Chicago to Tokyo flight and it was only with an all-out sprint that we made our connection in Japan. Our guide, Su Li met us at the airport. She is incredibly energetic with a classic Asian beauty. Su Li speaks English extremely well , though she's never been out of China. It's wonderful to leave the hectic airports behind!

Our hotel is modern and plush - definitely a first for us! We even have cable in English and we watch CNN to see the progress of the hurricane that nearly canceled our flight from Charlotte. It hardly feels like we're in another country yet.

Just returned from our first days tour. We saw Tiennaman Square, the Forbidden City, the Summer and Winter Palace. The sun is a hazy circle in the sky - a mixture of smog and fog veiling the city. The heat and thick humidity are slightly oppressive and I can't imagine what it must be like here in the summer! Bicyclists, pedestrians, and cars mix together in a chaotic soup: incredibly avoiding disaster by inches and fractions of seconds so often that everyone takes it all in stride.

On our way back to the hotel we stooped at the National Gallery of China and bought some stamps with our names carved in Chinese characters as well as some calligraphy brushes I want to use for doing watercolors. The regular exhibition space was closed so we were limited to the Museum store. The funniest thing was that hanging amid dozens of "original" paintings for sale was a copy of one of Richard's nudes from his book. They wouldn't let me take pictures or I'd have e-mailed Richard a photo of it hanging there.

Our guide and driver are waiting to take us to a famous restaurant for a Peking Duck diner, Susan's favorite meal. Susan is sleeping right now, exhausted. I'm strangely energized as usual at the start of a trip (if not for a sleeping pill I never would have gotten to sleep last night). I keep thinking of the history of this civilization. One feels small amidst the vastness of humanity here. Can't wait to paint.

September 2 - 1999

The Peking Duck last night was an interesting experience, though not a very appetizing meal. The rooms looked more like a badly decorated communist meeting center out of the 50's, with a nearly indescribable gold foil wallpaper everywhere. We quickly realized that the American version of Peking Duck is vastly different than the authentic version, which consists basically of fat-laden skin (all kinds of fat are highly prized delicacies here, probably because so few people ever get to eat it). The only thing more unappetizing than the meal itself (we only tried a bite or two before giving up) was hearing our guide describe the process of force-feeding the duck during its 27 day life and then the equally gruesome process of its 3-day long preparation. I left the restaurant feeling starving and guilty.

Susan and I are sitting in a parking lot resting after lunch. This morning we saw the Great Wall and it was absolutely spectacular. Susan is exhausted from the climbing, heat, and intense humidity. She says her heart actually hurts. Sun Yan dressed up in a traditional costume and I took a couple of photos of her that I hope to paint. I'm a little worried about Susan and hope she isn't getting sick.

The majority of tourists we see are Chinese with almost no Americans and very few Europeans, which intensifies the sense of being in another country.

 

 

Scott Burdick

"The Great Wall"  charcoal  13" by 17"

 

 

 

Scott Burdcik

"Smiling"  oil  24" by 18"

 

I loved this old man's face! He worked at the Great Wall collecting plastic bottles for recycling. This man is a descendent of the workers who built this section of the wall. When they'd completed their work, they settled right next to the wall in a newly constructed village they built as well.

 

Scott Burdick

"Misty Afternoon at the Great Wall"  Oil  6" by 8"

 

Scott Burdick

"Entrance to the Great Wall"   Oil   14" by 11"

 

September 3 - 1999

The Ming tombs were large and regal, making one feel truly in the presence of a great country with a magnificent history. Few of the European sites we've visited over the years took such good care of their historical monuments. I was also impressed with the patience and foresight of the Chinese people and government given the fact that they've left several of the largest tombs unopened until a time when technology advances to the point where less damage will occur to the artifacts inside when opened. In contrast to our instant culture, so much of China reveals a different way of looking at the world. Things like the Great Wall are examples of projects spanning centuries - making something like the Trans-continental Railroad in the US seem like child's play by comparison.

And then, just for contrast…

After the Ming Tomb, our guide, Yan, offered to take us to a traditional Chinese "medical center", which was on the road back to the city. We shrugged and said, sure, why not.

As we walked through the doors to the "hospital", my first impression was of the incredible dimness of the green florescent lights that stretched off down an extremely long corridor. At the end of the hallway we passed the bathrooms and, even from the outside, the smell was intense. "Do sick people stay in this hospital?" Susan asked Yan. "Oh, no," Yan said, "this is for research and for people to get traditional herbs and medicine."

We passed a shelved wall with dozens of jars filled with some of the ingredients of the medicines - pickled snakes were the only ones I cared to look at long enough to identify. Then we were taken into a bare classroom-type room with half a dozen tables and chairs and a single, dim florescent bulb. On the wall to the left were three posters illustrating the important acupuncture points of the body. On the front wall an antique air-conditioner labored noisily, with a stained bucket catching the constant stream of water leaking out of it.

A vacuous woman with a white doctors coat came in and began her lecture on traditional Chinese medicine in a sharp, commanding voice more reminiscent of a drill Sargent than a doctor. The way she stood, the firm tone of her voice, and the examples she gave of the superiority of herbs over Western medicine made one quite uneasy. I looked back and noted that the door was definitely closed. After twenty minutes, Susan's eyes had that glazed expression I'd seen so often before (mostly when I was teaching her how to use the computer).

Finally our lecturer reached the end of her well memorized talk. "Now we will have a demonstration by two of our Yoshi masters." She began clapping and we obligingly followed suit as two young men in their twenties entered, both also wearing doctors' smocks. As the first took center stage and stood in a tense, yogi-like pose of meditation, the other plugged in a double cord with two metal wires on the other end.

Like a circus ringmaster, the woman told us in a grand tone the wires were filled with 220 volts of electricity. The Yoshi master took hold of the two ends of the wire with his bare hands and then touched them to the bottom of a bare light bulb, which promptly lit up.

Next, everyone in the room was instructed to hold hands (Susan declined) so we could feel the vibrations of electricity going through our body. I remember doing both these things in high school chemistry and began feeling like I'd gone back in time 100 years when "electrotherapy" was the fad therapy for every ailment conceivable. The Yoshi masters exited and we were instructed to applaud once again for several traditional doctors who sat down across from each of us.
"You may wonder how doctors can tell what is happening in heart, liver, kidney, stomach, and blood just from feeling your pulse, but no need to ask, doctor will show you for free!"

The doctor asked my age, which is 32, felt my right wrist, then my left, and then looked at my tongue.

"You have pain in your shoulder?" he asked.

"No," I answered.

"Hmm, you have pain in your lower back?"

"None"

He felt both my wrists again. "Your blood has too much heat and thickness," he diagnosed. "Do you know your cholesterol level?" I didn't. He seemed pleased and told me authoritatively that though I was in good health now I was in danger of high cholesterol in the future and that the third of a long list of herbs would help me. Would I like to buy some now? I said I'd have to think about it.

After the same pulse and tongue examination, Susan was told she was low on energy and blood flow. The doctor asked if she was tired - Susan replied that, yes, she was (not much of a surprise after a 24 hour flight and a day climbing the stairs at the Great Wall). He prescribed a herb on his list to boost her energy. Susan asked if the herb worked for her, where she might get some in the US. The doctor said that this particular herb could only be gotten through them, but they could ship to the US every month - cost $60 per month, not including shipping charges, but hey, who can put a price on good health, after all!

Susan, said not now, but she'd think about it. The doctor didn't look happy.

We were the first of the roomful of tourists to leave. I noticed the rest seemed deep in conversation with their doctors - the way they held the hands of their patients was very reminiscent of palm readers.

"That was surreal," Susan summed up as we gratefully emerged into the outside light once again.

I learned from Yan that the hospital was about five years old, no doubt built by the government specifically for tourists. All the guides are employed by the government tourist bureau and are no doubt under orders to take all their charges to such places not listed on the tour's itinerary. Tourist traps are ubiquitous the world over, but I've never seen any quite like this one before.

Susan painting in the Forbidden City

 

Susan and I just returned from painting our first sketch in the forbidden city. Many people and children were fascinated with what we were doing and a group of younger boys in their late teens wanted my signature and to have their picture taken with us. Susan really did a nice painting - mine was average. The pollution was especially thick in the air today and both of our lungs feel heavy. The sun is never very bright in the sky because of this, giving everything a slightly gloomy feel. I can hardly imagine living here all year round.

 

 

Susan Lyon

"Tea House in the Forbidden City" oil 8 1/2" by 13"

 

We are going to have lunch at the hotel and then go out walking. I would love to do another painting, but I don't think Susan is up to it.

Went to Liulichahang Culture Street and bought about forty pounds of Art books. There are so many incredible artists out there! I also bought a watercolor from a Chinese woman artist selling her paintings out of a corner gallery. Both of us are emotionally drained from all the spending and visual overload!

Almost forgot lunch! Very ritzy restaurant - some menu samples: dog fifty different ways. Ox penis a couple ways. Brains, intestines… I think you get the idea. That said, we had a great lunch!

September 4 - 1999Went to Taoranting Park and both Susan and I did two paintings each with a nice lunch in between. We're still amazed at how cheap everything is. Taoranting Park was really beautiful - extremely clean and well kept up. It isn't on any of the tourist maps and was the most relaxing day we've had. It was fun watching all the parents with their children (actually child, since they're only allowed one per family). You rarely hear a child crying since the parents lavish love and attention on them. We didn't see one westerner the whole day and everyone was quite interested in what we were doing - once again some teenage boys wanted to have their picture taken with me.

 

 

A little boy ran up to Susan and gave her a flower, which she wore on her backpack.

 

 

Scott Burdick

"Taoranting Park"  Beijing, China - oil - 8" by 6"

 

 

Scott Burdick

"Taoranting Park #2"  Beijing, China - oil - 8" by 6"

 

September 5 - 1999

Beijing airport to Xi'an. Crowds - chaos - loudspeaker painfully loud - seats red, cheap plastic - many sitting on floors - group of teen Chinese backpackers playing cards with middle aged German couple - smell of body odor - beautiful Asian woman sitting with obvious thug/criminal figure (porcelain skin contrast to bearded, pockmarked and scarred skin) - four plush recliner chairs-for-hire with a girl standing by whose job is to collect fee from anyone willing to rent them (I can think of no more boring job than this and she is a tragic figure. In the time we are there I see none rent a chair.) - No order in any of the ticket lines, cutting in front of others is the norm.

A stewardess opens the door and shouts something in Chinese. Instantly everyone rushes the gate, shoving and struggling to gain some advantage on those around them. When we finally make it to our seats, which smell horrible, the ancient Russian jet begins taking off even before everyone is seated. We practically hold our noses for the entire, mercifully brief, flight.

On the drive from the airport we pass a man bringing a cart of produce to market with the help of a horse drawn cart. Behind him is a huge field where farmers are working the crops entirely by hand using methods Marco Polo would have recognized. Behind this, two smoking towers of a nuclear power plant rise up in the hazy distance. As I snap a photo I wonder where else I could see the transition from man-power, to horse power, to nuclear power all in the same scene.

Xi'an is a strange dichotomy. We're staying in a five star hotel that boasts half a dozen visits by US Presidents including Clinton, Bush, etc. The street in front of the hotel is like Chicago's Michigan Avenue, although the pollution and car fumes is enough to make you pass out. But turn down the first side street and you've entered another world - another time, in fact. How to describe? Can't - photos much better, though trying to take photos on a crowded market street (the side streets are really more like mazelike alleyways) where every single occupant stops what they're doing to stare in amazement at you is a definite challenge. Susan and I are definitely the major attraction on these streets.

The only people I successfully photographed naturally are the hordes of card players - so engrossed in their gambling that I would take three or four photos before someone noticed, which then caused them to hide the money and angrily wave me off. It's as if they're afraid I'll show the photos to the police or something (this despite the fact that thy play cards in groups of fifty or so right out on the street in plain view of the busy streets).

The only English word we hear is "hello" - usually shouted by children who smile and laugh jubilantly when we say "hello" back.

The sensory overload on these streets is intense and I'm utterly exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. The worst and best thing is the incredible faces of the very old people, all of whom refuse when asked if I might take their picture. I would give anything to spend a month here with someone to hire me a steady stream of models I could paint and photograph!

September 6 - 1999

Our guide, Lee, told us that ten years ago he was assigned to be a guide for tourists because he'd studied English in college. At that time you had no choice of your career but your job was secure. Now students can choose what they want to do, but are not guaranteed job security. Lee says that the "iron rice bowl has turned to glass".

We went first to the picturesque hot springs. It has a long history, including being the residence of Ho Chi Min (who was once kidnapped from there).

Next was the Terra Cotta warriors, which was both awe inspiring and utterly mind boggling due to the massive scale.

In the tiny bookstore at the Museum I noticed an older man sitting at a table. His face was weathered and filled with character, seeming out-of-place here. The museum was nearly empty and the old man's head nodded sleepily as I came up to him and asked to take his photo for 5 Yuan. He accepted gratefully and I snapped a photo. When I returned to our guide I learned that this man was one of the farmers who discovered the terra-cotta warriors while digging a well in 1974. Since he got nothing from the government for this, he now spends his time signing books in the bookstore for about 25 cents each.

We also were taken to several other government owned tourist traps which I've decided we'll have to forcefully turn down in the future since time is simply too valuable to waste on such things.

The pollution was once again terrible though it cleared up some in the evening when we went shopping in the upscale stores along the modern main streets. Susan bought some clothes and continued to attract a crowd. In one store, when she was buying a skirt for the astronomical price of $50, I counted all ten of the sales girls gathered around her. I attract far less attention, though still quite a bit by normal standards.

For dinner I had pizza and Susan Dim Sung (with drinks) for a total of $2.50!

Crossing streets in Xi'an is a definite adrenaline rush - there's never a clear break so you go ahead bit by bit, very reminiscent of the old video game "Frogger".

The one right that Chinese drivers seem to hold dear is the right to blow their horn. The skill and variety with which our driver uses it make it seem almost a musical instrument. Practice, practice, practice!

As in Europe, platform shoes of all kinds are the thing for the young.

September 7 - 1999

Exhausted this morning on our flight to Kunming. Our guide in Kunming is Tao Li Sha (Sarah is her English name, which all guides choose themselves). She is a bubbly and happy 22 year old who's only been working as a guide for two months. Next September she will be working in Disney World's "World Village" - apparently they came here to recruit people recently. She tells us that Disney will pay her $5 an hour and she must pay $95 a month for a dorm room she'll share with two other girls. This compares with $5 a day she makes as a guide here (though she also gets tips).

We went to the Gates of Heaven first. Susan was very scarred by the ski-lift ride up to the top of the mountain , though it was incredible to breath clean air again! We descended the mountain via stone stairs along the side and through tunnels cut into the rock itself. Far below, the lake is a jade-like green that added to the magical aura of the place. Li Sha said that this was the least crowded she'd ever seen the place, which was good because it was still difficult passing people on the narrow and slippery stairs.

The most striking thing about Kunming is its ethnic minorities and their wondrously colorful costumes. I've taken lots of pictures and we also bought an elaborate, hand-made costume. Some of the other highlights of the day was a Buddhist temple with amazingly elaborate stone and wood carvings. We also met an artist who did an ink demo of some reeds and gave it to us as a gift. I reciprocated by using his brush to do an ink painting of a bearded face and gave it to him.

As I'm writing this we're on our way to the Stone Forest, though we're currently stuck in a massive traffic jam on a detour road (the main road was closed by a house-sized boulder that fell onto it). I watch as the car's gas gauge drifts closer and closer to empty - this could be a very long "two hour" drive.

The road winds among rivers, gorges, and very steep hills - what one might imagine Burma would look like. When I mention this, Li Sha tells us that we are actually on the very road that the American's had bombed in World War II to stop the Japanese invasion. Shocked at this, I tell her that I have a Great Uncle who came over as a ground crew mechanic with the Flying Tigers and that I've heard and read all about that event. Excitedly, I look around at the scenery with a new sense of awe, trying to picture those long-ago events in my mind's-eye. But my enthusiasm is nothing compared to Li-Sha's. She tells me that her parent's village was the very next one in the path of the halted Japanese and that I must thank my uncle for her.

 

 

Scott Burdick -- "Tobacco Harvest"  Charcoal  20" by 30"
The people in this villiage near the Stone Forest were using the same methoods of hand-harvesting that the farmers in our area of North Carolina told me their fathers and grandfathers had used a hundred years ago.

The Stone Forest was interesting but the minority groups living nearby, some with spectacularly colorful costumes, was the highlight of the day for Susan and I. We also saw a "bullfight" (actually between two bulls) which was somewhat campy but fun nevertheless. The bulls basically go head to head and neck to neck, pushing and heaving and snorting for about ten minutes until one gives in and retreats. I liked this much more than the Spanish-style bullfights where the bull is slaughtered.

 

 

Scott Burdick

"Afternoon at the Stone Forest"  oil  18" by 24"

 

 

Susan Lyon

"Seamstresses Daughter"  oil  20" by 16"

 

As I'm writing this, we are, of course, once again stuck in a huge traffic jam on our way back from the stone forest. We've been driving for three hours so far and aren't even half way yet. The trip back is normally only two hours!

Sometimes when things come to a complete stop and everyone turns off their engines, I walk ahead a couple of miles until the car catches up with me. This is far nicer than sitting in the car, but you have to be really careful of some treacherous holes dug along the side of the road. Every once and a while people will call our and wave to me excitedly. Strangely, even though the Stone Forest is a major tourist site, we haven't seen a single other Westerner all day.

By the time we reached the main road, Susan was crashing from low blood sugar so we stopped and got her a coke, cookies, and an ice cream bar. Also bought her some clothes and cool dolls. In town, our search for a working ATM continued, money being desperately short. The first banks ATM was out-of-order due to the Y2-K bug but the next one worked! I took out my maximum daily allowance now that I knew how scarce such machines are in China.

Exhausted, we reached our hotel and collapsed in front of TV - which was actually showing the US Open live! Thank goodness we have a free day tomorrow - I don't think I could handle a plane ride!

September 9 - 1999

Woke up exhausted at 2:00 am but couldn't get back to sleep. Felt horrible all day - not much appetite and sore all over. Will have to take a sleeping pill tonight.

Susan and I both did a small sketch in Green Lake Park in the morning but the rest of the day I just stayed in bed to rest.

 

 

Susan Lyon

Green Lake Park 41/4 by 9 oil

 

September 10 - 1999

Flew to Dali today. The airports are an interesting experience every time. Now that we are acquiring more luggage, we hover near the boarding doors so that when the boarding surge occurs we are swept along at the front of the wave toward the plane - I've never surfed before, but I imagine it must be similar. On the plane, the stewardesses rush down the aisle handing everyone a drink randomly. I got a coke, Susan a mango fruit drink, and the woman next to me a water - if you don't like what you get you can try and trade with someone else. Near the end of the flight they went back down the aisle tossing white, polo-style shirts with the airline's logo on it into everyone's lap.

Dali is very old-fashioned and most of the people in the surrounding villages still dress in their traditional, colorful clothes. I got some incredible photos of woman sewing at the Butterfly Museum, though our guide seemed very puzzled why Susan and I preferred staying outside the museum where all the vendors and seamstresses were rather than going into the museum itself.

 

 

Scott Burdick

"Sewing at Butterfly Spring"  oil  20" by 16"

 

Our guide, Shui, is very nice, but his English isn't very good and it can be mentally taxing holding a conversation with him.

Our lunch is a traditional gourmet meal that comes with the day's tour and is truly inedible except for the rice. Just like the Peking Duck, it seems that the main ingredient of more expensive meals is fat (wrapping morsels in raw bacon fat seems a particular favorite). Because of the language barrier we have been unable to order the simple fried rice or noodles that you can get on the street for about 25 cents a bowl.

We haven't seen any Westerners even at the hotel and it seems that Dali is far off the usual tourist track. The surrounding area is incredibly beautiful - the mist and cloud shrouded mountains a mysterious backdrop to the geometric and vividly green rice fields that lay on the flat Plaines between the mountains and lake.

September 11 - 1999

Susan and I took one look at the "breakfast buffet" and laughed. There were a couple of people from France who looked equally horrified at the indecipherable food. Following their lead, we loaded up on the couple of pastries off to the side.

We took a boat to a couple of fishing villages this morning. The air was cool and fresh and surrounding mountains made the entire scene absolutely idyllic. Someday I'm sure that the modest houses of the fishermen will be completely replaced by wealthy vacation homes and hotels.

 

 

Scott Burdick -- "Pastel Sky"  Oil  6" by 8"

 

The villages themselves were alive with activity and a thriving fish market. Susan and I had some fried potatoes on a stick which were excellent - especially at only 10 cents apiece! (Golden Shutter Village) We wanted to make sure and fill up before lunch after yesterday's experience and it was good we did. The worst part of it was that after not daring to touch any of the dozen dishes placed in front of us, we walked by where the guides were eating fried rice and chicken (which isn't considered good enough for the tourists)!

Finished the guided section of the tour around 2:00 and both of us were relieved to be on our own for a while. We rested an hour at the hotel then took our painting gear to foreigner street where we had a good diner of pizza and spaghetti! Then we set up by the north wall tower to paint. Susan did a nice painting but I couldn't get my self excited about painting another Pagoda. I tried getting some old woman to pose for me, but don't think they understood. I had our guide write down an offer to pay someone to pose for a painting for money and will try again tomorrow.

 

 

Susan Lyon

"Old Town- Dali"   Oil  8" by 6"

 

September 12 - 1999Painted again today - not a good start for me, though. I first tried a market scene, but within five minutes I was hemmed in by about fifty people! They were so intent in watching that those in front were literally pressing against my back and both sides. I used to think that I could block out any number of people watching, but after only a couple of minutes of watching the crowd grow larger and larger, I had to give up.I found Susan painting in a quieter spot just outside the north gate. 

 

 

Susan Lyon
"Market square in Dali"  Oil  8" by 6"

I set up as well and did a so-so painting of the gate and wall. I put a little smoke in that was coming up from some cooking pots and without fail everyone who came by pointed to this part of the painting with a delighted shout to those doing the cooking.

 

 

Scott Burdick
"Dali Wall" Dali, China - oil - 6" by 8"

I had a little adventure during this painting when an old man came up to me and made it clear that he wanted me to paint him. I had one of the watching crowd read him the note that explained I would pay him 50 Yuan if he would pose for two hours - he agreed and I set my street-scene aside and got out a new panel. As I reached for the panel I raised up slightly from portable stool. As I sat back down, I sprawled backward onto the gravely cement and scraped my forearm. As the watching group roared with laughter, I looked over and saw one of the little children curiously examining the stool.

When I finally had everything settled, the old man sat for only two minutes before becoming bored and walking off. Back to the street scene!

After painting we rested and just walked around the rest of the day. There was a brief rainstorm and I did a painting of the mountains out of our hotel window as the sun was going down.

 

 

Scott Burdcik
"Cloudy Afternoon"   Oil   6" by 8"

September 13 - 1999

Sitting in our favorite restaurant on foreigner street, waiting for breakfast. There is a very interesting man who every day asks to shine my shoes, even though they are black cloth. He is a character and lays out dozens of business cards (among the hundreds he carries) of people who's shoes he's shined and who have written brief testimonials to his shoe-shining prowess. Some are so old and tattered that they're barely readable and it looks as though nearly every major language of the world is represented. Since he cannot read the cards themselves, some of his customers have written rather humorous notes like; "This guy is a real character and bugged me all week to shine my shoes, so I finally let him."

 

Every time a group of young soldiers marched by the local peasants invariably broke into laughter -- I'm not sure if it was the youth of the soldiers or their marching in step to military chants.

An observation on photographing people:

The best places are either a completely touristy place you pay to get into or a place completely off the beaten trail. At the paid tourist attractions so many people are taking photos as well that people get used to them and don't even seem to notice when you point your camera (some people will still occasionally ask you for money for the photo but when it's somewhere you've paid to get in taking photos is generally considered part of the fee so you needn't feel guilty about it). What I sometimes did to get a more natural shot of someone was to have Susan stand in front of me as if I was taking the standard tourist shot of her, while instead pointing the telephoto lens over her shoulder at the real subject.

 

 

Scott Burdick
"Apple Sellers"  30" by 16"  oil

At the other end of the spectrum in small villages and the like where people seem perfectly happy (if somewhat bemused) to let you photograph them. I always ask, though, and if they say no it's they're right and I respect that. The worst places are the ones in between the two extremes - markets and such near touristy places. Here people will try and extort large sums of money if they see your lens pointed anywhere near them.

Went back to Butterfly Spring in the morning so I could take some more photos of the woman sewing. It was really crowded this time - some tourists from Beijing asked to have their photo taken with Susan because they said she was so beautiful. It was funny seeing them line up and one after another stand next to her for their photo as if she were some sort of monument.

 

 

Scott Burdick
"In the Park with Grandchild" oil - 14" by 11"

Then we continued on the bumpy bus to a huge market on the side of a mountain. We only saw a tiny slice of it, but I got some great photos. Everyone was dressed in traditional costumes, selling everything from chickens, to jewelry, to old engines. The crush of people gets to one very quickly, however, so we stayed only about a half hour or so.

 

 

Scott Burdick

"Prized Possession" oil - 34" by 30"

 

 

Scott Burdick
"Weighing Apples" oil - 30" by 12"

Next we took a ski-lift up the mountain and had a spectacular view of Dali, the lake, the distant mountains, and the wondrous cloud formations.

September 14 - 1999

This morning we're on the road from Dali to Lijiang by car. The road is smooth and incredibly beautiful as it winds through a mountain range that appears very ancient due to the smoothness of the peaks. We must be very high as I can feel the thinness of the air in my.

Most of the way is unsettled and wild but here and there we run across a patchwork of isolated fields. The Chinese army singles out our car for a check and has our driver get out and show several documents. I don't know what was said, but there was a lot of laughing and looking at us. It's quite an eye-opening experience being so isolated in such large groups of Asians - makes one more understanding of what it's like to be a minority somewhere.

The only slow down is a place where a rockslide has obliterated a large section of the road. It has been cleared enough for us to creep past and then we start back down the pass toward Lijiang.

Lijiang proved to be utterly beautiful. The old section is unique; manicured and almost European in feel with cobbled streets and a river that runs through the center of town. Lots of tourists, internet cafes, and even good pizza with imported mozzarella cheese!

 

 

Susan Lyon
Newspaper Stand  10 by 8  oil

The altitude here is 8,000 feet and we must have built up our tolerance in Montana at NWR and in the last week because it doesn't seem to be affecting us much.

September 15 - 1999

Headed out at 8:00 am for Jade Mountain. It was raining and our guide didn't mention how cold it would be up on the mountain and that we'd be taking open ski lift chairs to the top in the rain (or we would have brought our warmer clothes and coats). Because of this we had to rent coats and were still cold in the freezing rain. At the top I got some nice photos of girls in fur caps, but the surrounding mountains were mostly obscured by clouds.

 

 

Scott Burdick
"Fur Hats"   Oil   20" by 16"

At the bottom I took some more pictures of Yaks and herdsmen who were doing a brisk business having Chinese tourists dress up and get their pictures taken on Yaks. I paid a woman to take a picture of her son with their Yak - which confused and greatly amused them (they kept trying to get Susan to put on a costume and get on the Yak instead - they just couldn't understand why I would want a photograph of them).

 

 

Scott Burdick
"A Boy and his Yak" Oil 14" by 18"

 

 

Scott Burdick
"Companions"  charcoal  30" by 40"

Our guide is a native Naxi girl of 21. Her English is very basic however and I don't think she has the right personality to be a guide. She goes through the motions and is nice, but really should be doing something else. Problem is, around here it's either farming or being a guide and I'm sure her job pays far more than anything else she could do.

Saw another temple and got back to the hotel around 2:00. Susan and I just rested until the evening music recital which was great. The older men in their costumes were especially interesting. Saw lots of Chinese artists painting on the street. One of them told us that they were from an Art school near here.

 

 

Scott Burdick
"Ancient Archway"   oil   16" by 20"

September 16 - 1999

Went to Dragon Lake Park and both of us did paintings of a pavilion with mountains in the background. Spent most of the rest of the day exploring Old Town and looking for a couple more costumes.

 

 

Susan Lyon

Reflections-Lijiang 8 by 6 oil

 

 

Scott Burdick
"Mountain Reflections"  oil - 8" by 6"  Lijiang, China

September 17 - 1999

Painted again in Dragon Lake Park -- I started one of a lion statue, washed it off, did another of some red lanterns, started another, had to quit when rain started. Tired and a bit depressed today.

 

 

Susan Lyon
Knitting a Red Shawl  10 by 8 oil

 

September 18 - 1999

Did laundry in the bathtub this morning then continued exploring Old Town, which is quite large and confusing with all the twisty and turny streets. Old town definitely has lots of character. It has rained on and off all morning and the wide stones that make up the Old Town streets are very slippery -- it's so interesting to see what things are like from a safety point-of-view in a place with no fear of lawsuits.

 

 

Susan Lyon
"Favorite Doorway"   Oil   10" by 8"

September 19 - 1999

Have a terrible cold today (probably from getting wet yesterday in the rain). It was all I could do to drag myself to the restaurant in Old Town for lunch. Horrible sinus headache in the evening -- rained all day.

 

 

Scott Burdick
"Chatting in Lijiang" Oil 24" by 18"

September 20 - 1999

The rain has finally let up this morning. My cold is still bad and Susan is annoyed with me when I tell her I'm going to stay in all day to rest.

Susan is off painting in the park and I'm writing this in the hallway as the staff cleans out our room. It's been a luxury to stay in and read and write alone. I feel lightheaded and weak and beginning to look forward to getting home. Hope some paintings have sold in our absence since we'll have some big bills to pay off when we return. Also hope the hurricane didn't do any damage to the house.

 

 

Susan Lyon
Long day at Market  18 by 24  Charcoal

September 21 - 1999

At diner last night we talked to a guy traveling by himself from Amsterdam (Peter Boers). He's been on the road for half a year already. He had been staying in a private room for $3 a night and just switched to a dorm room for $2 a night (to save that $1 a day!). He was having a huge plate of fried rice for dinner (more than he could finish) which cost a total of fifty cents! You definitely can live cheap here if you want! And we thought our $30 a night 3 star hotel was cheap!

After breakfast Susan and I spent a couple of hours at the large outdoor market near the hotel -- me photographing and Susan videoing. We've begun to get very good at the art of stealthy people shots. Some times I have Susan stand just to the side of what I really want to shoot and stand like the typical tourist, pretending that I'm shooting Susan, while actually aiming my long lens over her shoulder to get a close-up of the people behind her. Without this ruse people will either turn away or "pose". for the picture.

 

 

Susan Lyon
"Colorful Umbrellas" oil - 11" by 14"

The market -- a seemingly chaotic mass of people, color, smells, blood (lots of it!) chickens, bicycles, haggling, muck, etc. At first you are overwhelmed; mentally overloaded with the flood of information . Slowly, the underlying order of the place emerges; unspoken rules of conduct and design -- meat more or less in this section, chickens over here by the broken truck, men pounding chili peppers into dust over there (this section is easy to find since the amount of pepper in the air makes your eyes water instantly). Children play under tables, old, young, traditionally dressed woman in colorful headbands and clothes mix with the younger generation dressed straight out of a Gap commercial.

 

 

Susan Lyon
"Waiting for a Sale" oil - 16" by 12"

Sudden shrieks pierce the air, then crying wails -- they are desperate, hopeless sounds that make me wonder if someone has finally been run down by the maniac bicycle riders. By the time we turn around to see what's happening, a whole section of the market is packed up and vacated -- all within a matter of seconds. The empty ground seems out-of-place, incongruous in the seething mass; like a patch of field that's had salt dumped over it. Then I see the cause. A tall man in a military costume has confiscated two woman's weights. They sob openly and plead with him as he tests them against his own weights and apparently finds them lacking since he begins to verbally rebuffing them. I remember reading that some of the oldest written laws dealt with such things. As they're taken away I wonder what will happen to them.

 

 

Susan Lyon
"Shopping in the Local Market"   Oil   12" by 9"

Some of the woman notice Susan's video camera and are entranced by the view of their friends on it's screen. Susan gets them together and videos their faces one after another and then replays it for them. As their faces come up on the screen each, in turn, shrieks and laughs at the sight.

 

 

Susan Lyon
"Sun streaked Market"   Oil   10" by 8"

My cold is nearly better, though I'm still a bit tired. Tomorrow we fly to Guilin.

Saw Peter at a the same restaurant this evening and learn that he's doing research for an environmental study based in Amsterdam, where he is from.

 

 

Scott Burdick
"The Usual Suspects" oil - 20" by 30"

September 22 - 1999

Fly to Kunming, then on to Guilin.

September 23 - 1999

I've been thinking about what I might write my International Artist Magazine article about. I've been especially struck by the many contrasts here. Old vs. New, Communism and capitalism, etc. I took a photo today of a young, western-dressed Chinese girl doing a painting while another traditionally dressed woman with a huge basket on her back, watched. I was struck by the rapt attention of the woman as she watched and couldn't help imagining that the older woman wished she could have had the opportunity to become an artist when she was young.

 

 

Seeing how rapidly things are changing in the cities here, you have to wonder how long any of the traditional ways of life can survive at all. I'm very aware of the fact that I'm seeing the end of an era here. Many of the areas in China are going from horsepower to nuclear power without all the intermediate steps we in the West went through. I find it hard to even imagine what kind of a mental jump that must be.

Well, today we are picked up by a driver and taken to the Li River for a day long cruise. Our driver pummels us with a steady string of cliche sayings, speaking in very sharp, aggressive syllables. Just for fun I jot down one minutes worth, though I can hardly write fast enough to keep up -- Honkey Dorey, cool, best foot forward, A-Okay smoky, go ahead make my day, rock and a hard place... Our driver is an interesting character. He's extremely excited to get a chance to practice his English on us, but I'm happy that he is only going to be our driver for a couple of minutes since it's exhausting talking to someone like this. I ask Lee about his job and he emphasizes that he is not a taxi driver (despite the taxi meter on the car's dashboard). He is very proud to be working for CIT and tells us that he's only learned to drive this year and got his license two months ago! His first job was as a fighter pilot in the army, then he flew helicopters, and now he's worked his way up to driving a car, which he says has been the most difficult for him to get used to due to the chaotic traffic of the city. Slightly the opposite progression than in the US, I'd say.

We're transferred to a bus which will take us to the wharf. About 20 American and English tourists -- more than all the American's we've seen our entire time in the rest of China! The drive is picturesque -- pigs and water-buffalo occasionally clog the street -- and would be relaxing except for the ceaseless yammeing of the guide (why he must use a microphone and loudspeaker on such a small bus I'll never know!).

We reach the river and our busload of tourists merge with a huge crowd of tour groups -- about a thousand people all together. This is our first time to be in such a herd of tourists and I feel slightly claustrophobic and depressed. We're loaded onto a long convoy of air-conditioned boats which are segregated by language and then set off down the river. The trip was extremely beautiful and I took some nice photos of fisherman using cormorant birds as their lines. All along the river are the typical rounded hills that one associates with traditional Chinese paintings. Once our huge boat nearly runs down an old woman poling her narrow fishing raft and I'm incredibly saddened as I see her struggling to keep the huge wake from slamming her into the cliffs.

 

 

Scott Burdick
"Fishing in Guilin"   Oil   6" by 8"

Water-buffalo and their calves all along the way -- ducks, mallards, etc. Children wave as we pass. About half of the twenty or so people on our boat are American. We sit around couch-like tables in the air-conditioned interior of the boat and are served a nice meal. I go out on the deck a lot to take pictures, but because of the heat most everyone else stays inside. Several times during the trip we're told that we have the option of stopping (once at a village, then at a giant river cave where the locals will take you on canoes through the tunnels) but since Susan and I are the only ones that vote to stop, we move on. Every American we talk to is amazed both that we are traveling alone, and that we are staying an entire month. After this one day in a group I cannot imagine what it must be like trying to see all of China in 12 days on a group tour.

 

 

Susan Lyon -- "Bicycle Vender"   Oil   14" by 18"

Yangsou is a huge tourist trap for the most part. Susan points out a marionette she wants and goes off as I talk the price down from 400 Yuan to 100. 

 

 

Susan Lyon -- Blue Hand Puppet  20 by 30 oil

I have a headache for several hours. The tour only gives us 15 minutes to explore the town so we tell them to go on the bus back to Guilin without us.

 

 

Susan Lyon -- Street Life  20 by 30  oil

We walk around town for a couple of hours and then catch a local bus back to Guilin -- then a somewhat hair-raising ride on a motorcycle-taxi (though we're getting used to the wild style of driving by now) to our hotel. Aspirin and rest!

Ok, I didn't write about yesterday because I was so mad I thought I'd wait a day.

We flew from Lijiang to Kunming and were met at the airport by a CIT guide (who said he was actually a CIT administrator filling in for someone). Our itinerary said "sightseeing in the Western Hills" before our flight to Guilin. Guide very talkative -- in the car he asks us if we'd rather see a museum or "minority village" with dancers in costumes from the various minority groups. We say the minority village. Then the guide tells us it costs 500 Yuan per person. We hesitate since all other tour spots have been included in our pre-paid arrangements, but we figure if it costs this much extra it must be really great, so we pay. Ah, we are gullible indeed!

Once there, we are quite disappointed to say the least -- it's just a large, unfinished park with sporadic, five minute dances scattered over a five mile distance. Worse, there's no schedule of when the dances happen in the different areas, so it's rare if you see one.

 

 

Scott Burdick -- "Tibetan Dancer"  oil  12" by 9"

Suspicious, I ask around and learn that the park really only costs 45 Yuan per person! Trying to restrain my anger, I confront our guide. He says that the extra charge is for the driver, the guide, and CIT. He tells us that this is an extra day we haven't already paid for. I show him our itinerary which says "tour of Western Hills" and he stumbles around it. Susan doesn't want a scene -- can see we are getting nowhere -- but the basic fact of it is that we've just paid twice for our guide and driver! I give up and ask to be taken back to the airport. Our guide buys us a cheap doll (which we give to someone at the airport) as a peace offering. As always when traveling, you have to remind yourself that all the incidents like this are balanced by all the other fantastic ones. For every dishonest hustler you meet, there are ten that go out of their way to help you unselfishly.

September 24 - 1999

Ah, what a difference a good night's sleep can make! Went down to the front desk and had them write down the Chinese name of the places that the "city tour" takes you. The girl tried her best to convince us how much better it would be to take the Hotel's tour -- the thought to being crammed in a bus with thirty other people and being given fifteen minutes at each spot; not to mention the loudspeaker commentary that makes it impossible to even think -- did not appeal!!! In any case, cabs are so cheap here that doing the tour yourself is even a bit cheaper.

First we went to the Reed Flute Cave, which was spectacular. It reminded me of a cave I'd explored in Bustamante, Mexico except that this one was fully developed for tourists. The multi-colored lights seemed a bit cheesy, but I had to admit they gave things a magical quality. For the more natural effect, all you had to do is wait for a big tour group to pass on and all the lights would go out! Apparently the tour groups guides have little remote control devices to turn the lights on and off. This just shows you how rare non-group tourists are. The air was cool and wet and whomever put in the stone benches must have had a sense of humor since every person that gave in to their inviting offer quickly jumped back up with a curse and a large wet circle on the seat of their pants.

The serene coolness of the cave is in extreme contrast to the area outside, where you are instantly assaulted by the hot dryness as well as the swarms of hawkers, cabbies, and the ever-present "hello" "hello!". Unlike the smaller towns and villages we'd visited in earlier week, it is impossible to simply walk in peace in Guilin. The city is filled with literally thousands of three-wheeled bicycle cabs (no doubt a relic of a few years ago when cars were practically nonexistent in China). "Hello, hello -- I take you..." Whether you shake your head no, say no, or simply ignore them, they will persist from two to five minutes, shadowing you for blocks. And when one finally gives up, there is no relief since another, yet to be convinced, cabby is there to take the others place within seconds. The idea that you have already arrived at your destination seems impossible to convey; after all, you are walking, so surely you must be going somewhere? And if you are going somewhere, why not take a bicycle cab and get there faster -- right?

Next we took a cab (an actual automobile taxi) to Solitary Beauty Peak and took the long, winding stairway to its top for a wide, 360 degree view of Guilin. A Chinese couple asked me to take a photo of them with their camera, which I did. They were very thankful and excited to find that we were Americans. In fact, that was one of the great surprises we have had. In Spain we'd had many people act rude to us when they learned where we were from. A typical example was a woman who came up to Susan while she was painting and asked her what country she was from. Susan said, "The United States," politely and the woman spat, "so what!" and stormed off.

We'd even considered postponing our trip when the US bombed the Chinese embassy in Yugoslavia and the news was filled with riots and protests in Beijing. But invariably, when people ask us where we're from and we tell them, they are both surprised and delighted, saying that America is a great country. In fact, most people here have a far more idealized view of America than is actually the case. We've learned not to tell anyone you're bargaining with where we're from because they're absolutely convinced that everyone from America is rich.

At the park I also bought a photography book I'd seen first at the hotel (190 Yuan), then was offered on our boat trip (120 Yuan) -- the lady at the park offered it to me for 100 Yuan and I bought it for 60 Yuan. I'm certain she would have gone down much further but thought that was a fair price (about seven and a half dollars).

 

 

Scott Burdick --"Green Umbrella" oil - 11" by 14"

We took another cab for about a dollar to the biggest department store in Guilin, though it turned out not to be much. There were a large group of teenage girls watching people prepare cakes for the moon festival tonight. When they saw me they giggled and giggled like I was a celebrity. Occasionally I'd look back to where they were and even after quite some time they'd still be staring and giggling. Definitely not my usual effect!

Next we walked down to the Li river and tried to find out where the cormorant fishermen are who give their nightly rides and demonstrations. It is very hot and this, combined with the ever-present bicycle cabs is starting to grate on Susan's nerves. After not finding much other than a long construction zone along the river, we sat down to rest in the shade. After a while a middle aged man with a bike came up to us and asked where we're from. He is delighted when we tell him and he praises the Voice of America radio program which is his favorite show. His name is Pan and has a boy aged 4, he tells us proudly. He has come up to us because he was wondering if we could give him the address of Voice of America in Washington, DC so he can send them a letter. He seems very surprised that I wouldn't know the address by heart, but I give him one of my business cards and tell him if he sends the letter to me I will forward it for him.

When we ask Pan where the Cormorant fishing is, he insists on escorting us there personally, even though it is over a mile away. He even introduces us to the fishermen and offers to pick us up in the evening and take us to a minority dance show (he works for the Agriculture department and thinks he can get us in free). We thank him but decline the dance offer since he's already mentioned he'd planned to spend this rare holiday with his family. The contrast is once again extreme between kindness and hassles.

September 25 - 1999

Both Susan and I are very tired today - low energy in general. The show last night was fun and I took a couple of photos of the dancers. It's so funny how everything is priced so much higher than the actual price whether in a department store for locals or the hotel's tourist store. The marked price for 400ASA film ranges from 70 to 110 Yuan but I've bought it for as low as 35 Yuan with a lot of bargaining but usually just offer 40 to get it quickly. Basically the process goes like this - I offer 40, they look shocked and come back with something like 60, I thank them, shake my head no and turn to leave, at which point my price is invariable agreed to. I've learned that the turning to leave part is the crucial act. No amount of bargaining will get anyone to lower their price without the turning to leave part (and they have to believe it's for real).

I've also found that this is the best way to find out the lowest price of something you don't know the value of - especially if no one else is around. Just show interest in something but don't offer a price no matter how much pressure you get to do so. When the seller quotes you a price, look disappointed and start walking away. If you have convinced them that you are genuinely interested in the product but the price is the only obstacle, you will be showered with a barrage of quickly declining numbers. As long as you continue walking and no one else is around, you will eventually reach the rock bottom. The reason this will only work in a quiet time is that sellers won't shout out low prices in the presence of other potential customers (this is also the reason sellers prefer bargaining by calculator or pen and paper rather than verbally).

At first I hated bargaining and felt dirty when faced with it. I actually think a lot of people don't buy things because of it (Susan refuses to bargain and will either pass something up she would have otherwise bought or go get me to negotiate). Eventually, however, you get more used to it and it seems just normal business. Like with the film example, I generally try and determine what the lowest price is and then offer a little more since I want the sellers to make money but don't want to be taken either. Whatever you do, however, don't make an offer if you're not sure you want the item. In Xi'an I once named a ridiculously low price just to get a rug seller to stop badgering me. To my surprise she agreed to the price and when I tried backing out of the deal all hell nearly broke loose. When you name a price and someone accepts they now consider you bound as if by contract.

You might get the sense from this that sellers are dishonest and will do anything to rip you off. But this isn't necessarily so. It's just the way things are done and I've had sellers go out of their way to give me correct change when I've mistakenly overpaid the agreed upon price, even when I've already begun walking away and it was obvious I didn't expect change.

The variety of people's moral sense in dealing with foreigners was especially evident as we went off to get our standard bowl of noodles (every place charges 2 Yuan or 25 cents, which includes chicken and seasoning on top). The first place we went told us it would be 5 Yuan per bowl - some of the other customers even shook their heads and shouted out 2 Yuan in indignation. I didn't bother bargaining, just grabbed my 10 back and went onto the next shop (there are about 2 per block her). At this shop the girl told me it was 5 Yuan for two bowls. I shrugged and gave her a five, figuring 1 Yuan wasn't worth the argument and, besides, I was hungry! Interestingly, when the girl handed the five to her father (who ran the cash register) he ignored his daughter's fierce protests and went out of his way to politely give me a single Yuan back.

We walked through the jam-packed streets filled with thousands of street vendors selling everything from shoes, luggage, and even Nike clothes. Capitalism is sweeping the cities of China in a big way. Other than all the independent shops and street vendors everywhere, the most obvious change is seen in the children and their bright, flashy westernized clothing - quite a contrast to their parents and grandparents mostly dull communist greens. We've seen several older shop owners who rely on their seven or eight year old kids to help them with their math and even reading.

While it's interesting to see this process of globalization at work, I'm a bit saddened to think that when these children grow up much of the diversity that makes China so interesting to me will be lost. Then again, how can I possibly begrudge these people the very things that I would never be able to give up myself?

Rested all afternoon. We made reservations for another dance show at 8:00 at another Hotel, but when we got there it turned out to be a cheap little thing in the hotel's courtyard. Luckily we hadn't paid in advance so we just came back to our own hotel. Unfortunately we're too tired to paint and lack the energy for any long bus trips to outlying villages. I'm looking forward to Hong Kong and then getting home and back to work.

September 26 - 1999

Dragged ourselves out of bed and to breakfast. Nothing seemed very exciting to do so we took a cab to Seven Star Park, which turned out to be a bit dull. As we left the park we headed East along the river (just before crossing the bridge) and suddenly found ourselves in a marvelously run down little "village". Moored at the water line were all kinds of interesting boats that doubled as houses as well as fishing vessels. In front of many were planks of wood on which a dozen or so Cormorant birds sat resting. Several fisherman also stood on their flat bamboo "boats" (really resembling something more akin to surf boards) fishing.

 

 

Scott Burdick -- "Guilin Bridge"   Oil   6" by 8"

I took several photos and was so happy to find an interesting place in Guilin, though I doubt many tourists ever see this area. Continuing to follow the river through the maze of crumbling buildings, we eventually reached a market where I bought a slice of watermelon which really hit the spot in the noonday heat.

Next we headed back over the bridge to the modern part of the city and watched dancers rehearsing at the Lijiang Theatre for a performance commemorating the upcoming 50th Anniversary celebration. Flowers are also being set up all over the city in preparation for this event. Then back to the hotel for lunch and a rest.

Went back to the river village and took more photos in the evening while Susan rested at the hotel. When I showed the cab driver on a map where I wanted to go, he refused to believe that this was where I wanted to go and insisted on taking me back into the hotel where someone could translate. Even the English speaking receptionist tried talking me out of this, telling me that there just wasn't anything interesting there (even though I told her I'd already been there twice already) and trying to talk me into one of the tours. After about half an hour I finally got the driver headed in the right direction. When he dropped me off amidst all the shacks he just shook his head and drove off.

September 27 - 1999

Went back to the river before breakfast and took more photos. I feel completely rested and I've swung back to my manic phase - energy, energy, energy!

It was overcast this morning and I think I got some nice photos of the Cormorant boats going out toward their fishing grounds. Interestingly, I also saw several well dressed girls emerging from the shack-like house boats and heading off for their jobs in the modern part of the city. I wondered if any of the people at the hotel live in such places.

Our flight doesn't leave until after 9:00 PM so we will have to check out at noon and store our luggage in the lobby until we're picked up. My greatest fear is loosing my photos - everything else but these could be replaced. They are definitely the most valuable things I carry at this point.

Got into Hong Kong near midnight. The drive from the airport felt like something out of "Blade Runner". The city has lots of sky scrapers packed into a small area and loves lights and neon - they even have special lights to highlight the cables of the suspension bridges, giving the entire scene a futuristic and magical look. Sam Michlap (a friend that works at Dreamworks) would love to paint some of these scenes.

One thing I notice as we drive in is that many of the windows on skyscrapers facing the water are blown out. Our driver tells us that only one day ago the most powerful typhoon they've ever had directly hit the city.

New skyscrapers are going up everywhere - Mercedes are the favorite car - everything ultra modern… except our hotel, that is. What we were paying for a hotel in China got us the best of the best there, but barely gets us a room in Hong Kong.

September 28 - 1999

Very tired today. The first thing you notice in HK is that every single person has a cell phone and a beeper - from the business man, to the cop, to the guy chopping up meat for sale on the corner. Even when we went to a movie with only about a dozen people in it, I counted four cell phone calls during the show. The people don't get up, but shield the phone with their hands and speak in a low whisper.

We are met by a CIT guide named Raymond for our "city tour". We take a cable car up to the top of the hill for a view of HK. The view across the bay is spectacular and Raymond tells us that this is the farthest he's ever due to the typhoon winds having temporarily cleared away the normal haze of pollution. It is raining, so we leave the windy hill quickly.

We are crammed into a car with an older couple and their daughter from Wisconsin (it's supposed to be just Susan and I on all our guided tours, but we decide not to make a fuss). They are good humored and very Midwestern (right out of "Fargo"). After about an hour in traffic, we reach a large tourist market and are reluctantly doled out 30 minutes to shop and explore. I'm pretty unexcited by the toristy market, but Susan is annoyed at the miserly amount of time.

Another half hour in traffic and we near Aberdeen where our guide says we may rent a boat for $10 a person to go and see the "boat town" where fishermen live in their boats. We pay up and are taken on a very uninspiring ten minute tour of what ends up being just a couple of boats parked in the harbor (I think there are actually more tour boats than fishing boats). No doubt this tour was very interesting ten or twelve years ago, but since most fishing has now been replaced by large commercial ships, the "boat city" has all but disappeared. There is absolutely nowhere else to walk or anything to see in Aberdeen and we are left to wonder what we'd have done if we hadn't taken the "optional" boat ride.

And, finally, the highlight our the tour - certainly stop that our guide is most excited about - the jewelry "factory" (we're told that this is where they actually make the jewelry; which I highly doubt). The whole day our guide has gone on and on about how good the prices are, how it would be a shame leaving Hong Kong without taking advantage of such good deals. (after some subtle asking around I find out later what I suspected then - that all the guides get a commission on everything their charges buy there). Susan and I have gotten into the habit of firmly turning down such places, but because the family from Wisconsin is excited about going here we don't have this option.

The shop is crammed with tourists. The merchandise - most of which is in the thousands - is very overpriced and the sales people high pressure. "Free beer!" say our Wisconsin companions excitedly - they love everything and are a guides dream come true. In talking to them a bit I understand why everyone loves Americans so much. They overpay for everything and never bargain down the inflated prices. I'm shocked that anyone would tip a guide for such a day, but our three friends no doubt will. I've definitely had enough of guided tours for a while!

September 29 - 1999

I'm sitting with Susan on a turbo-jet boat on our way to Macau (about a one hour trip). In walking around today I feel like I'm seeing the future of Asian, and, indeed, the rest of the world. Though it's nice not having to worry about anything - bathrooms, language, ATM's, etc. - there's a depressing sameness here to every big city in the US. Very little of Chinese culture is left here other than the Chinese characters (always accompanied by English translation) and the food. Even the faces, figures (it's extremely rare to see anyone overweight in mainland China), and attitude of people are westernized as much as possible. The boat ride is quite relaxing in the air-conditioned cabin with dozens of little islands and hundreds of trawlers drifting noiselessly passed. I see Macau now so will stop writing…

 

 

Susan and I have been lying in bed back at our hotel watching TV when the sound of sirens and a commotion outside on the street get our attention. At the window we see, ten stories below, a girl lying at the edge of the street with a crowd of paramedics and onlookers encircling her. The bus that hit her is stopped ten feet in front and the police are parked behind. When the paramedics have gotten her into the car, a large stain remains. No one gets into the truck with the girl. Where was she going, I wonder? What were her plans for life? I have a hard time getting to sleep thinking about her.

September 30 - 1999

A long day of walking and shopping with Susan. Went back to the Hong Kong Island Market, then to a historic temple. I'm tired. The constant, unrelenting crowds just wear me down mentally and I'm glad I won't be around for the huge madness tomorrow - all the newspapers here are filled with warnings of too many people filling the waterfront to see the fireworks (which is right where our Hotel is located). I'm sure I'd enjoy Hong Kong a lot more if it weren't at the end of such an exciting trip within China. Compared to all that we saw on the mainland, Hong Kong just doesn't seem all that interesting right now.