And a deadly holiday to you too

It's that time again, holiday season in China. For seven days in May and October, thousands of citizens trample each other through bus depots, train stations, and airports to be the first to arrive at the same top ten spots of gaudy scenic fame.

The day before our holidays began, the director of our program paid a visit to our class to enquire of our whereabouts during the coming week. Like teenagers reporting our nightly plans to a parent, one by one we were required to give a complete plan, including flight/train itenerary, to our director.

And one by one, the bad news came.

-Going to ride horses in Mongolia? Only light trotting allowed, a man broke both his legs last year when his horse bolted through the grasslands and he lost holds of the reins.

-Travelling out west to the Tibetan Plateau? A group of foreigners recently got lost in the woods for three days without food and water. One of the girls didn't bring a sweater and died from exposure when nighttime temperatures dipped below freezing.

-Beach plans in Dalian? It's too cold; besides, swimming is a dangerous adventure and should only be undertaken with a lifejacket securely tied around your legs, arms, and neck.

-Taking a boat down the Yangtze River? Many people indulge in a bit too much alcohol on these boats and have fallen off the side at night and drowned in the river.

-Driving through remote mountainous areas of Yunnan? Watch out for rockslides, there's usually no warning and large rocks can crush or roll even a large bus. Heaven help you if it's snowing and there's an avalanche...

-Hiking around monasteries in the mountains of Eastern China? Monasteries are built on cliffs, and cliffs have edges. Do you want to come back alive from that holy experience? Stay in a group, at least ten meters from the edge.

-Experiencing the Muslim culture of Western China? You're wallet's a goner; people there will steal anything. And bring your own noodles from Beijing, the food there is (gasp) different and will definitley make your intestines turn inside out for days.

And so on and so on....for over an hour...

With a caution for every activity, and countless stories of past deaths, I began to think that I might have to cover myself with bubble wrap and lay on the floor in my apartment for the entire holiday week to avoid my impending death.

However, I'm happy to report that I did survive the holiday. Our director came to class on our first day back to do a head count and make sure one of us wasn't missing out on a glacier somewhere. "小心" (be careful) might have to be the new Chinese slogan after "work to welcome the Olympics" becomes outdated.

Peace and Quiet

With 1.6 billion people in this country, it's hard to find anywhere that you can actually be alone, let alone find peace and quiet. However Ben, a veteran Beijinger and fellow nature lover, has gone to great lengths to find camping sites and hiking trails out of reach of pollution, peddlers, and phone coverage. Don't ask me how, but with current road maps, topographical maps, old CIA maps, and google earth, Ben leads us fearlessly down dirt roads and farmer's footpaths.

Last Saturday we boarded a bus out to the countryside, where we rented out a bread car (named for its loaf-like shape) and headed into the wilderness. After almost two hours of veering scarily close to the steep embankments on the mountains of the northern Beijing prefecture, Ben decided that we had arrived. On a random curve, on a random road, he steps out and finds a footpath that leads up through terraces, some abandoned and some currently tilled, and eventually up to the Great Wall. I still don't know how he does it, but I'm glad that he does. This amazing discovery led us to a beautiful unrestored section of the Wall and wonderful terraced (and therefore flat) land on which to pitch out tents and build our campfire.

Ahhh, finally, peace and quiet.

Well, as long as you don't count Dutchess, the miniature doxen who runs full speed and leaps into the side of your tent at 5:30 AM, apparently imagining that a door will magically appear if she hits it hard enough.

Aside from this, peace and quiet.

Almost there, but not quite yet

Someone's going to have to recall the NY Times article that I recently referenced in my blog. A brand new advertisement wall has gone up in Beijing promoting the opening of a new restaurant. It's newly designed and obviously aimed at foreigners, boldly proclaiming that:

Utopia is beyond your mind, but your Buffalo is not.

It almost competes with my favorite store sign of all times for a clothing shop near the embassies:

Before I became a man, I was arrow. That was a long time ago.

Almost, China, almost there.