I started the morning off with a little sink laundry, and then went in search of what there was to see. There are many hutongs (traditional neighborhoods) with small and winding streets in this area, all having been modernized, but still interesting to wander.

Let me just say that I'm not opposed to modernization, and progress does bring many good things. We humans, though, tend to erase so much history in the name of progress, and it makes me sad. Surely there is a way to do both? I get the need for space in a city this size. Just think how many more people can be housed in a 10 story apartment building than in the old single story houses. But I think it's wise to admit that we're also losing something in the bargain.

After what felt like hours, and turned out to be 8 am, I saw a Starbucks, and went in for coffee, which I had sitting on the rooftop studying my map. Then I walked for pretty much the next six hours, to Jingshan Park and Beihai Lake, which is one of the lakes in the complex that at one time was reserved for the Emperor, and the hill I climbed to get to the temple was made out of the dirt excavated to make the palace moat.

I wanted to rent a bike, but now the process involves having an app on your phone, with which you scan the code on the bike, and off  you go. It's very handy, but my phone won't work here, so I didn't bring it. And since I'm here for only a few days, it seems rather pointless. But I'd love to have a bike to ride!

Off to see if I can find some food for tomorrow's trip to the Wall, and then to see if I can find my way to the theater where I have a ticket to an acrobat show. I sure hope it's casual dress.

In search of the lingua franca

I'd forgotten how daunting this is, sitting in the living room at home. Last evening, standing in my sweltering hotel room with the housekeeper, I was reminded of that reality-not that air conditioning is a necessity of life, but it would have been uncomfortable to do without it. The window in my room looks out into the courtyard, which is lovely, but the only way to get air is to open the window leaving full access to my room. Knowing that, I asked for help at the front desk, and this resulted in me standing there with the housekeeper. I speak no Chinese, except I know how to say thank you (this provokes a chuckle every time so probably I'm butchering it). The housekeeper speaks no English. And the remote is

After a lot of button pushing by both of us, air began to flow and I used my one word of Chinese. Today I shall endeavor to learn another word.

Fortunately for me, the areas of Beijing I'm likely to be in have a few signs in English for main streets, which is the only reason I was able to find my hotel. The subway is well signed, and announcements are in both Chinese and English. I felt a little overwhelmed upon coming up to the street at the station trying to find my bearings. Unlike many places in the world, people didn't stare, and I saw a few street signs in English so was able to figure out which direction to head. Of course, all this involved several minutes of wandering back and forth, pack on my back, map in hand, looking like the lost tourist I was. No one said anything, nobody approached me, and I felt, oddly, no risk in behaving so obviously lost. Several blocks later, there was my hotel, right where the map said it would be.

I chose this place in part because it is in an area of the city that still retains some of the hutongs from the old Beijing neighborhoods, but alas, progress has come to Shi Jia Hu Tong and there is construction all up and down the narrow little street.

Last night's dinner was an exercise in patience for the waitress. She patiently guided me with gestures and pointing what to do. You first establish a place at a table, all of which are shared with others. Then you review the menu, which importantly for me, has photos. So I ordered by pointing, she entered the order in a handheld electronic device, and then she directed me up to the counter to pay. Once that was done, I went back to my table, which I shared with a man who was alone, and a three person group that appeared to  be grandmother, mother and son, although I could not verify. We also shared no common language, so the only word I got to use was- you guessed it- thank you. Xiexie sounds to me like she-she, although given that Chinese has a lot of tonal distinctions, who knows what I am really saying? But people seem to get the intent, and they smile and say it back.

arrival

I'm falling over tired, but thought I'd let you know I've arrived safely in Beijing. Not that there was really much question about arriving. Finding my new 'home' is quite another but it's another mountain climbed.

The flight from Calgary was about 10 1/2 hours.Near the end of the flight, when some announcements were being made that I did not understand because a) they were in Chinese, and b) the English announcements were hard to hear and hard to understand. So I figured I'd know soon enough. But suddenly nearly everyone around me suddenly reached into their carryons and pulled out bananas, and commenced eating them immediately. We all looked at each other and grinned- apparently you can't take fruit and vegetables into the country, at least not without some hassles that a banana or two isn't worth.

I figured out how to navigate the Beijing subway system enough to make a transfer and arrive at the right station. I did not realize it until I got to the hotel, but I was right next to Tian'anmen Square when I got off the subway. Something for tomorrow.

My train ticket for the Beijing to Ulaan Baatar leg was delivered here a few days ago, and surprise, indeed it was here. For some reason I lacked faith that it would be here. I dropped my bags and went out wandering in the dusk, in search of the city and some dinner. The dinner I got in a restaurant that had pictures. The only word we found in common was 'beer' but I am well fed and off to bed.

Out on a limb

I was sitting in the window seat on the exit row for my flight from Vancouver to Calgary, which delighted me. The extra room felt like luxury. Mid-flight, I recalled the flight attendant's instructions as I looked out over the wing. Suddenly I doubt very much that I have whatever skill it is that might be essential in the event of a real in-flight emergency. Alas, it's a little late for that thought to occur. And so far in my life, I've never been on a flight that involved a crash landing, so I decided to assume this flight would continue that unbroken streak.

My eyes traveled up to the handle I am to pull down on to free the door/window in that unlikely event, and it made me wonder why it is that no one ever opens the emergency window mid-flight. I know it would mean certain death but there are all kinds of people out there, willing to do some really, um, interesting things. But you never hear. 

I hadn't given it much thought before, but it requires a certain amount of faith in our fellow humans just to leave the house most days.

A day in Seattle

I’m heading to Beijing tomorrow, the start of a journey through Mongolia up to Lake Baikal in Siberia. I started the trip by a short hop to Seattle, where I spent the night at the Panama Hotel, located just a few blocks from Union Station, a grand relic of the glory days of travels by train. I would love to have done this trip without stepping on a plane, and even looked into the cost and time involved in going by freighter. In the end, the time away from work made that impossible to do. In an alternate universe I could travel as Mark Twain did when he circumnavigated the globe. In this universe, I cannot. So I take what I can get.

I’m sitting in a coffee shop in Seattle, charging my phone because the sole plug in the room last night was quite loose, and apparently my charge plug dropped out early in the night. It’s a quaint, old hotel on the upper floors of an old building, with a shared bathroom containing a clawfoot tub. My room has a sink in the corner, a broken down wardrobe, and you control the temperature by opening or closing the window. But it oozes character, and the bed was so comfortable I barely remember it. Oh, and it was fairly cheap as well.

I have a little work to finish up today, and a camera to purchase, then on to Vancouver via bus. I fly out of Vancouver early tomorrow to commence the unknown path- the one that draws me always.

A new jaunt

Off I go ajaunting once again. And yes, I know that's not a real word. But why bother with rules when I am about to embark on an adventure?

The destination is tangentially connected to my previous travels to central Asia, but as usual, the trip has morphed itself into something else altogether. Somehow the destination ends up taking my initial plans and standing them on their head, and the result of all that moving about may or may not be better than the original plan, but it is an organic process that seems necessary.

So I was planning to go to Mongolia, and I am - but first, a side trip via Seattle and Vancouver, and then a few days in Beijing. After Mongolia, there will be several days in Siberia in the environs of Lake Baikal.

If you care to come along for the ride, check back here for regular posts. 

I've made plans to circumvent the censorship of China and signed up for a VPN so that I can access this blog and other sites from Beijing, but we won't know if I've been successful until it's put to the test.

I can't see beyond the bend

It looks like the road ends just ahead, yet I know from experience that it does not. It may turn, or divide, or diminish into a narrow lane. It's part exhilaration and part terror that I don't know, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

I've adopted a habit of talking to myself on this trip, and occasionally I've turned and realized that there was someone there - caught at it by strangers on the street. I will have to break the habit as I re-enter daily life or you will all think I'm loony. I'll have to get used to not washing my clothes in the bathroom sink, not wearing the same three sets of clothes, driving a car, cooking food instead of having it prepared for me, telling time by a 12 hour clock and the temperature by Fahrenheit, having a phone again. I hope I don't get used to a few things though, at least not right away.

I have been incredibly fortunate to be able to make this journey. I rarely told anyone I met on the road the full extent of my travels. Most often the person I was talking to hadn't the means, or sometimes was not permitted, to leave their own country, and to tell them what I was doing felt like showing off. My good fortune is largely an accident of birth, and I am so very grateful for the hand I was dealt. I'd like to remember that.

As I dealt with the inevitable difficulties of the road alone, I had to face myself in ways I can avoid at home. There was less distraction, less noise to hide behind. This was humbling, to be sure. But it also gave me a chance to accept myself as I found me.

I learned to quiet myself, to sort of mentally hunker down, and think through the dilemma confronting me. I was too far from anything or anyone who could help with most things, and losing it was just not useful. There were a few ugly moments, but since you weren't there to see them, I think we'll leave those alone. Too much disclosure isn't healthy, I say.

I'm sad to come to the end, it's been quite an experience. My response to this ending is also overlaid with the other recent events of my life: finishing law school, the anxiety over the bar results, and the end of a job that has helped to define me for 15 years. I don't typically do things any other way than headfirst and wholeheartedly, and so endings, even of my choosing, are bittersweet. I am happy to come home, to see people I love and appreciate, to have coffee at Peet's, to have conversations that go beyond numbers and greetings. At the same time, I am still enamored with the road before me.

I really appreciate you taking this journey with me. By telling you about what I saw and experienced, I was able to frame it for myself, often finding clarity as I wrote. And it has created for me a permanent record, so that when I forget how I felt on the train from Moscow, in Hotan conversing with the young woman on the scooter, or seeing Tyler and Lilly's life in Maputo, I can go back to this record. Your comments kept occasional bouts of loneliness in check and often made me smile.

It turns out that one can't just stop everyday life and go off on an extended adventure without some support from someone at home.

The mail had to be dealt with, the post office will only hold mail for 30 days. Cuba lives with me for the year, and being responsible for a dog is no small thing. The house needs things done, the chickens fed, plants watered, and it turns out the mouse carcasses need to be removed. I owe a great deal to Clay, Paula and Charles.  Thanks to Clay and Charles, my car still starts. Abigail and Teri both helped with care of Cuba, and I'm told that Abigail cleaned up my garden too. If I'm omitting something or someone, I apologize. Thank you all very much for taking time and care of things so I could go and do this thing.

I have laughed so many times at the typos in my posts. My only excuse is that I'm typing this all with one finger, and I often miss the autocorrections my tablet makes as I type.  Everyone has been very kind in not pointing them out.  If you haven't looked and are interested, there are a multitude of photos on Picasa.

See you soon, either in Santa Rosa or on Facebook.