Brace yourselves, it's a long one.

Last weekend we went camping and hiking on the Great Wall. Naturally, Annetta and I bought a ton of food in anticipation, mostly candy and junk. I'd been to the Great Wall before, so what I was looking forward to most was going camping again. I think the last time I went camping was when I was 16. Since I'm someone who needs to be in nature, five years was far too long.



I certainly got some nature. Gorgeous, no?



The weather was mercifully fantastic despite the frequent, strong gusts of wind. Tianqi remarked a few times about how clean the air was, but when I looked around, I still saw walls of smog on the horizon. Our ideas of clean or polluted air clearly differ a lot. I always think it's a little ironic when, in Beijing, she'll remark on how clear the air is, because it's so not. But at the same time, I catch myself doing the same thing. It's all relative, because in Beijing, the air cannot be clean, just less smoggy.






The hike was only about two hours long, and while not easy, it certainly allowed me to look at the scenery. There are some parts of the wall are in such disrepair that I had to get off the wall and hike around, and there are other parts that have been so restored that it looks like the Ming Dynasty came after the Cultural Revolution. Personally, I rather liked seeing the effects of time; it gives more of a perspective.




We hiked from Simatai to Jinshanling, though most people go the other way. At Jinshanling, there's a hotel and a few small shops. CET divided everyone into groups of seven, then arranged one hotel room for each group so that we'd have a place to put our stuff, shower, and/or sleep if the weather got bad. Good thing we didn't have to try sleeping seven people in there. Two of us would have ended up sleeping on the bathroom floor.

CET also bought us dinner and breakfast at the hotel restaurant. I always love it when CET buys us meals at restaurants, because each time, they never fail to order far too much than even Annetta and I can eat, so basically Annetta and I feel obligated to help as much as we can to prevent needless waste.







After an evening bonfire, we hauled up the wall to pick out our sleeping spots. By then it was a little cold, so by the time we hiked up, set up the tents and got situated, I refused to leave my sleeping bag. I opted not to sleep in the tent, which, though a colder option, was much more rewarding. Since we were out of the city, the stars were plentiful and bright. Since I hardly ever get to see so many stars so clearly, I'm always surprised when I rediscover just how many of them there are, and how peaceful they make me feel.



That peace lasted until 3:30 or 4 in the morning. As soon as the sunlight starts to peek out, people start hiking the wall. They're mostly the vendors who, everyday, sell water bottles, T-shirts, Coke, beer and postcards (for obscene prices) to tourists strolling the wall. That would be a pretty lonely, low-profit job. The wall can only be great for so long.

I woke up around 4:30 and, still in my sleeping bag, made my way up to a tower to watch the sunrise. It was pretty, but not so romantic as the movies would have you believe. It's like the sunset in reverse and far too early in the morning.







After stuffing our faces at breakfast (see fabulous sweet corn pancakes above), Annetta and I decided that due to the obscene amount of carbs in our stomachs, we should hike the wall again. Towards the end of our two-hour excursion, we came across a a film crew filming a movie! Alas, I did not have my camera, but they had maybe ten or fifteen guys out there working with a nice camera, tripod, and crane. I'm jealous.

Last week was rather unremarkable save our various food exploits, the highlight of which was this:



Yes,that is tortise, and it is delicious, a tender, delectable yet bony version of chicken in a shell.

As Annetta is doing a thesis about Confucius (Chinese name: kongzi, as he will from now on be referred to), she wanted to go to the town of Qufu in the Shandong province to visit his home, tomb, and temple. I agreed to go with her and, after a little convincing, Jason did too. So after buying foodstuffs and a few more pounds of candy to add to our already bulging collection, the three of us set off on Friday for the city of Jinan.

Our train left Friday afternoon. This guy got really enthusiastic about Jason's camera. He yelled at Jason to take his picture, took Jason's camera and showed it to all his buddies, took pictures, and then, insisted on taking a picture with me.









She's interesting:



When it was time to board the train, we joined with the rushing mass of people to shove our way out to the tracks. However, Annetta couldn't find her ticket, so the attendant wouldn't let her through. It was one of those moments that the nagging “Do you have your ticket?” tries to avoid, and even though I was the nagger and asked in the taxi, poor Annetta was ticketless.

The attendant was rather merciless as well. Annetta ran to the ticket counter to see if she could by another one, but the train was full. We then ran back to the ticket attendant. If we couoldn't get on the train, were were stuck with a major let down and ten pounds of food that just taste better when you're traveling. Annetta tried to buy tickets off a couple people, which unsurprisingly didn't work. Finally, the evil ticket attendant finally called over some other guy, who told Annetta that she would have to buy another ticket in Jinan (they double-check tickets here), and then let us on the train.

And so we were off. A fast, comfortable, junk-food-packed three-hour train ride later, we were in Jinan. After checking in at our ping-pong themed hotel, we went out walking around the Jinan backstreets in search of a good meal.

We found it quick. A little family-run restaurant, where the only other diners were the owners. We ordered huiguo rou (though it had nothing on the Tibetan version):



Tofu noodle mushroom soup thing:



Small bird of unknown species cooked with peppers in a smoky sauce:



Tasty eggplant with seafood:



Even though we were very not hungry (see aforementioned train ride), we ate it all. It's not every day you get to eat authentic Shandong food. And then we walked around, got ice cream, went to the grocery store, bought more food we didn't need, and went back to the hotel to eat candy and play cards.

The next day we rented a car and driver to take us to Qufu, kongzi's hometown and pretty much the place's only claim to fame. We started out first in the konglin, or woods around kongzi's tomb. The place also has the tombs of tons of other people, who I believe are his relatives. I don't really know much about kongzi other than his name and that he was famous, so I just enjoyed the scenery. The place was filled with lush, thick greenery and trees, almost like being in real nature (until you realize where you are and that you can hear the traffic).



We arrived early in the morning, so there were very few tourists. Though as we were leaving around 11, hoards of Chinese tour groups wearing matching hats, shirts, backpacks or all three were starting to stream in.

And we couldn't get rid of them. They were in kongzi's house and his temple. His house was really pretty, a standard Chinese-style place with corridors, courtyards and gardens. It was really pretty and very conducive to thinking. No wonder he was famous.

His home was also filled with tourists who wanted to take my picture. Only they didn't ask me first, they just whipped out their cell phones or cameras and took a picture of me standing with my friends. A little uncomfortable. You're seeing kongzi's home and you want a picture of the waiguo ren? Oy.



A small tangent: Friday at dinner, Annetta told me that, though she loves my blog, she feels I sometimes focus too much on the waiguo ren thing, that it separates us is into me and them. A conversation ensued about the differences between cultures, and how everyone is the same but at the same time different. Am I really all that different from every Chinese person I pass on the street? Aren't we all the same. While I agree, I think there's a big catch. It's true, inside we're all human and citizens of the same planet. But my physical differences create a mental barrier for me and them. Because I look different, I am treated differently. Because it is apparent that I have grown up outside of China, my ideals and thought processes are entirely different. We could be the same; I could try to stop picturing myself as such an outsider, but I'm afraid I would be deluding myself. Part of the challenge of being in China is overcoming the outsider status and proving that maybe I'm not so different.

Not that that totally worked in kongzi's temple. Two people asked for pictures with me and Annetta.





The woman in the pink sweater was so excited to see us. She said it was hard to find people like us around there. And that's true-- I spotted a grand total of 4 other waiguo ren there. She is also from Qingdao, where the three of us and Victoria are hoping to go in two weekends. She gave us her card and invited us to her house. I hope we go.

Other than that, the temple was, sadly, like most every other Chinese temple in existence, though pretty nonetheless.

Don't think I forgot about yesterday's lunch, though. We found a little hole in the wall restaurant (we used sanitary wipes on the spoons before we used them) and ordered special Shandong food.



We got these neat little nut/bean things in a sweet oily sauce with cucumber and tomato:



Smoky, salty tofu with green peppers:



Small bony chicken with clear noodles in a salty broth:



Salty pork with mushrooms, onions and a few green things:




As we returned to Jinan, we toyed with the idea of extending our stay a day, missing a day of class, buying new train tickets and hiking Taishan, Shandong's famous mountain. But since time was tight, expenses would be incurred and the mafan (trouble) would be too big, we decided to stick with out original plan.

The driver dropped us off at a hotel restaurant where, supposedly, Mao had dined.

The place was really nice, and given the aforementioned Mao-ness, we though it would be a little too expensive. Instead of a menu, they have a back room filled with unprepared versions of all the dishes they have, plus some animals swimming around in tanks.



In the end, the prices were actually good. We ended up picking this bread-y thing served with shrimp meat:



Beef cooked with spicy green peppers:



A cold dish with tofu, assorted meets, lotus, and peanuts:



Oily mushrooms and peppers:



And the best, fresh corn and dates stuffed with sticky rice in a sweet oily sauce:



So so good. I love that Chinese dishes use dates.

Then we went out walking, got ice cream, and came across this portrait artist on the street. We walked over to look at the picture he was sketching of a little boy, and he said he wanted to draw us. For roughly fifteen minutes, I sat in a tiny little chair while he sketched me.



Obviously, the waiguo ren drew quite a crowd. It was so intimidating. What was maybe fifteen or twenty minutes felt like a lifetime. All those people were staring at me; some would walk in, look over his shoulder, look at me, say something, and then leave. Others stayed for the entire process. It made me so self-conscious with that many people so close and so closely looking at me.

I have something that I must confess to you all: I have fallen in love. I didn't plan for this; it was a chance meeting. Total luck, or, perhaps fate, if you believe in that. He's not that much to look at; rather plain-looking, actually. Not an eye-catcher. But that doesn't matter, because on the inside he's the sweetest thing ever, and it pains me that once I leave China, there's almost no chance that we will be together. Here we are together. I think we make a good couple. Here we are with Annetta:




His name is mantou, and he is fabulous. I think we're soulmates. Mantou is a Chinese version of bread. It is somehow made from rice and then steamed into fabulousness. Its flavor is very plain; some would say that there is no flavor. It's a dense, chewy texture; not at all crumbly. Big buns of mantou are really good, it's true, but why is this mantou different from all other mantous?

I'll tell you why. Because it's a slab of mantou folded around a center filled with pure sugar. I had one version that was filled with pure white sugar and another version (of which I ate two) that had a brown sugar/molasses/maple syrup filling. These things are neither small nor light. I ate three (in addition to lots of other junk) and was so full I couldn't eat dinner. Three in a day is overkill, you say? Well think of it this way. I'm pretty sure I can only find them in Jinan, Shandong, China. Maybe I could find some plain mantou in Chinatown. But this sugary bun of pastry-like heaven is a China thing. Maybe I ate three in a day, but really, it's more like I'll only eat three in my life.

And so now I'm back in Beijing. Tonight Annetta, Jason, Victoria and I bought tickets to go to Qingdao (think Tsingtao beer spelled differently) in two weeks. I'm so excited; not for the beer, but for the beaches and the company, and probably, more food.