Guilin

I feel like my journey has now really begun. Everything up until now has been in the vicinity of the Pearl River Delta, and my time there revolved around the two SARs - Hong Kong and Guangzhou. Although this region is indeed China, it feels somewhat set apart. But now I've left the coast and the former European colonies behind, and entered a new province: Guanxi.

I spent much of yesterday in transit. First there was the bus ride from Macau back to Guangzhou. It should have been 2 hours but took more like 3 1/2 because of traffic. There was an overturned truck blocking one lane and Chinese drivers like to rubberneck, too. I tried to take in as much of the scenery as I could during the bus ride, because this would be my last glimpse of Guangdong province. I had been in Guangdong since arriving in China, but I never really felt like I got a good impression of the place. Guangdong is one of the wealthiest provinces. Nearly all Chinese exports to America come from this one province and its immense manufacturing base. Driving along the highway I did see some factories. I saw industrial parks, office parks, and the signs of wealth: large, two floor, single-family homes, gated communities, golf courses, and ritzy shopping malls. None of it looked particularly nice. Perhaps it was the weather. Everything in my field of view was composed of a palette of muted shades of gray, green, and brown.

Then I embarked on what would be the first of many overnight train journeys. I paid 215 yuan ($27) for a "hard sleeper" on the 13 hour overnight ride. Hard sleeper is supposed to be a significantly lower class than "Soft Sleeper" but you could have fooled me. When I first saw my berth, I thought there must have been a mistake and that they had booked me into Soft Sleeper by mistake. I got the bottom bunk in a 6-bunk semi-private compartment. It came with clean sheets, pillows, and blankets. It was air-conditioned and each bed had a reading light. On top of that, it was non-smoking, and my bunk neighbors were friendly and interesting. One middle-aged Chinese woman, who looked middle class, surprised me when she told me she was actually a factory worker. A factory worker, yet she has free time for travel and leisure. One spoke English very well (she used to work as a travel agent for CITS, China's official tourism bureau) and we had quite a chat. She told me all about where Chinese tourists are going these days. She even brought up Taiwan voluntarily. She said more Chinese would like to go to Taiwan, but they can't because of "political difficulties". I didn't probe any further to see what exactly her interpretation was of this situation. She wanted to know all about America.

Guilin is in one of China's most scenic regions - the Li River valley - but it is still a major city. I had the bad luck of arriving in this major tourist destination on the Saturday before the annual dragon boat races. I spent the first hour and half wandering around trying to find a hotel, finding that they were all booked solid. Finally I retreated to the Overseas Chinese Hotel where I got a "dorm" room for 60 yuan. Most backpackers skip Guilin and head straight to Yangshuo, a Western-friendly town an hour down the river. But Guilin is worth seeing, too.

The area is famous because of its karst limestone formations. You've seen them before, in classical Chinese watercolor paintings. Miniature limestone mountains rising from the river valley, enshrouded in mists. The landscape is littered with them. Meanwhile, a city has sprung up in their midst. They rise up in pockets throughout the city. Each mountain is basically a little city park. And because this is a tourism destination, each park charges a tidy entrance fee. This annoyed me at first, as some of these fees seem too high. One park in the central city charges 50 yuan ($6.25). That may not sound like much in America, but it’s a lot of money here. I figured I could probably rent a bicycle and go out into the countryside where the scenery would be free. However, it occurred to me that the staircases up the crags probably cost a lot to build and maintain, and so maybe it wasn’t so unreasonable to pay an entrance fee after all. Maybe I was just spoiled by Hong Kong where seemingly everything was free. Eventually, I found a park at the north end of town called "Folded Brocade Hill". It only charged 20 yuan, and I was content that I got my $2.50's worth. I climbed two very tall, steep limestone mountains. The views from the top were impressive. There were also caves, an aviary, butterfly house, and girls dressed up in the dress of the Miao ethnic minority who chased me around asking for money in exchange for the right to take a picture with them.

One of the shopping malls here has an IKEA sign but it’s clearly a knock-off. Same thing with a Disney Store around the corner.

A lot of behavior that is considered rude in America seems socially acceptable here: expectoration seems to be a favorite past-time. Those who spit always do so accompanied by a lengthy, loud hawking sound. Spitting happens in many places: on the street, on the bus, in restaurants. Apparently, public health campaigns have attempted to curb the spitting problem. One person told me that it used to be much worse than it is today. But coming from a country where spitting is universally frowned upon, it's still quite a shock. Smoking too is a big difference from home. They say that 67% of Chinese men smoke, and I can believe it. Smoking is technically illegal in many buildings and buses and public places, but no one seems to care. I do notice, however, that the Chinese seem to be making a conscious effort to improve the environment. There are recycling bins all around town. Stickers in washroom remind you not to waste water. Add most Chinese ride bicycles, wash their clothes by hand, and air-dry them, thus using far less energy per capita than Americans use.

The streets here are mostly impeccably clean. Armies of street cleaners keep them that way. With an abundance of immigrant laborers from the countryside, there is no shortage of people to perform these jobs.

I noticed in a department store today that there is a huge section devoted to Playboy brand clothing - shirts, pants, shoes, even socks, all with the bunny head logo. Men's and women's apparel. I thought this was pretty funny as Playboy magazine is banned in China, as is all other pornography. I wonder if the people buying these clothes know what the bunny head stands for? Probably not. English phrases are very popular on t-shirts here, and many are goofy translations riddled with misspelling, peculiar grammar, and unintentional double entendres. I never see shirts with Chinese characters. Nearly all Chinese (at least the young ones) dress in fashions identical to young people in the West. So far in nearly two weeks in China I have only seen one man wearing a “Mao Suit.”

Even if most people don't speak English, there is one word that almost every Chinese person knows and it is "Hello", or rather, "HALLO!" and I hear it often, usually from schoolchildren, but also from adults. I usually reply with "Ni Hao". On more than one occasion I have been standing on a corner studying my map when a Chinese person offers to help me find where I am going.

In the evening, I dined at the Rosemary Cafe, where I met a German gem-trader who traverses the globe for rare gems and minerals, then sells them in Europe and America.