My birthday happens to be in early September. I hated this growing up. More often than not, it fell on the first few days of school. And while back to school meant seeing friends, for our family it usually meant another nerve-wrecking first day in yet another a new school for a very timid child.

Anyone who knows me and is snorting at the idea of me as a shy kid, those days of timidity are long over and this September afternoon finds me extremely grateful to be turning a year older. I think the key to having a great birthday is a year well-lived. And my quarter-century year, if I might say so.. was pretty freaking spectacular. So this entry is dedicated to those incredible people who made this year so memorable. I don’t know what I would do without you guys

This was the year of:

Adventures, new horizons, conquering fears and self-discovery. Joining a truck full of Amdo Tibetans on pilgrimage. Getting left behind on Mt. Everest. Altitude sickness. Roach-boating down the Yangtze and watching dawn break over Nam-Tso Lake.

This was the year of rediscovering childhood with new-found friends. Silly sleepovers and pow-wows with the girls. A running dive off a three-story ice slide in a winter wonderland. Dancing into the turn of a new decade and watching the sunrise at Tienanmen with your best friend.

This was the year of much, much learning and discovery. The realization that how long you’ve known someone doesn’t directly correlate with how great their impact on your life.

And lastly, this was the year of creativity, collaboration and artistic expression. Finding like-minded spirits who in a heartbeat, will climb into the ruins of a fast-disappearing world and the next moment be engrossed in long, ambling conversations into the wee hours of the night. For relationships who believed in me when I doubted and urged me to push beyond my comfort zones.

In three days, I start graduate school. Something I’ve wanted my entire life. With an incredible year behind me.. I have high expectations. No doubt much will be asked of me in turn. I realized this morning that I have spent the past six birthdays in a different city each year, and I have no idea where I’ll be this time next year. But here’s to everyone who inspired me, made me laugh, and lifted me up. You guys give me the confidence to go barreling towards the great unknown

Here’s to looking forward to another amazing year.

xoxo,

Eva

This is my motley crew that I spent the last two weeks of my backpacking trip with. (Photo courtesy of Sherman Wong). My brother and his two friends from high school, and my peace corps joining, revolution escaping, contraband smuggling best friend and I at the foot of Hua Mountain in Xi’an a little over two weeks ago. Hua Shan is one of the most brutal mountains I have ever attempted to hike up. At points, the trail was a ladder carved right into the rock face with a flimsy chain rail to cling on to. I assure you, we did not look half as energetic on our way down

Amblings in Southern China and Xi’an

Skimming my last entries, I realized I completely skipped out on my amblings in southern China entirely. After our adventures aboard the Roach Boat, Melissa and I took a 12 hour train down to Guilin where we immediately hopped on a bus for Yangshuo (aka, paradise.) We spent an incredible week climbing mountains (you may be noticing a trend in my travels of late..), rafting down the incredible Yulong river, and taking in some world class rock climbing on the famed carsts. It’s difficult to write about Yangshuo, because words and even photos seem like such a poor medium. It’s one of those places you just need to be there to appreciate. I was particularly honored to photograph Connie and Andy’s engagement in Yangshuo (the blog entry has temporarily been made private at the request of the client, but it will be unlocked soon). They are a phenomenal couple, and flew in all the way from Canada. Now THAT is a rockstar couple in my book.

Beijing, an epilogue

After our short visit to Xi’an, it was back home to Beijing. Things all sort of blur together at this point: a frenzy of visiting historical sites and stuffing ourselves silly with amazing food. One thing is for certain though: however long you’re spending in Beijing is never long enough.

The guys left a few days ahead of us for Jetsonville, and Melissa was kind enough to help me pack up my life in the ‘Jing. We were planning to leave on Monday.. then Tuesday… and then finally on Wednesday we booked our tickets for Thursday morning. Heh. Like I said.. my time in Beijing is never long enough.

As I write this in my apartment in Hong Kong, the past year feels like an elaborate dream. I seem tethered to this island, and it is my fourth time living here. The sense of deja-vu was made all the more apparent as I  got sick after two months of hard backpacking, spending my first two days here practically comatose. I haven’t begun to sift through the tens of thousands of images I have from my travels (tens of thousands is a rather intimidating number of images to start processing, you know). But I suppose when I do, the reality of those experiences will come thundering back.

I miss my Beijing friends desperately. My dear friend Monica is a wonderful blogger and shared  her experience of returning home after Beijing, and her reflections on the relationships formed while studying overseas

… the number and quality of friends that comes from spending twentysomething years of one’s life in the same city.

It was one of those rare occasions where I had to respectfully disagree. Maybe because it leaves little hope for a kid like me, who feels perpetually abroad even in my home city. I can’t help but feel that my friends there know and accept me in a different sort of way than others do. Maybe because they had such a hand in forming that person. Where would I have been without Joel’s bohemian influence, who taught me everything from tea to believing in my talents. Or Simon’s sense of adventure and eclectic taste in music? What if I had never met Sophia, Jessica and Stacey who were the first to take a chance on me and give me a platform to actually teach photography?? And everyone else who left an impact on my life who I couldn’t possibly list in a blog entry as it would be inexhaustible.

Much as I look forward to restarting my life in Jetssonville (yet again), it isn’t without longing that I think of Beijing. For me, China will always be my great frontier. My adventure. The place I feel compelled to escape and return to… with my Nikon.

It was the first day of school. He shifted his weight in his seat and fiddled with his pen, waiting for the professor to walk in. His eyes scanned the room before resting on an attractive, raven-haired girl seated several rows in front. A girl who was playing with a PSP under the table. “Hmph.” He thought to himself. “That’s rather disrespectful to the teacher” the irony not lost on him, as they were both starting teacher’s college.

But first impressions can be deceptive, as Anson would soon come to learn. Because there was something about Claudia that he couldn’t ignore. She wasn’t your average girl. She impressed him with her teamwork and leadership in class projects. He found all her quirks undeniably adorable and there was a strange correlation between her smile and his racing heartbeat. And before long.. there was no denying that he was smitten.

Claudia and Anson are one dynamic duo. They joined me in Yangshuo recently for their engagement shoot and I couldn’t have been more thrilled or honored to photograph their amazing relationship. There is a wonderful sweetness and innocence in their love for one another. Claudia seems made to fit in Anson’s arms. Anson can’t stop his fingers from caressing her hair. Combined with the stunning natural beauty of being in Yangshuo (one of the most romantic places I have ever seen, might I add!) it was the sort of day that made your heart burst with wonder. And I’m just the innocent bystander.

*sizzle sizzle*

Are they not just the cutest couple alive???? Claudia and Anson… sitting in a tree..!!

Those incredible carsts in Yangshuo.. I could not have asked for a more jaw-dropping backdrop..

I had to put this one in.. Anson is a complete riot to be around. Remember when I said they are so freaking cute?? Yeah, here they are sneezing in sync. IN SYNC for crying out loud. You guys are too much.

And once the sneezing fit is over.. they’re back to their gorgeous selves. See??

If you looked up the word “adorable” in the dictionary, this is the picture you’d see:

Quite possibly my most favorite set of photos EVER.

Eskimo kiss!!!

Rawr.

Claudia and Anson, thank you so much for choosing to share your day with me. There is not a shade of doubt in my mind that you two were meant for each other. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness

xoxo,
Eva

The Chans are reunited! My wonderful brother met up with Melissa and I in Xi’an on Sunday night, along with two of our friends from Hong Kong. Our dynamic duo is now a rabble of travelers. We are at a funky hostel in Xi’an called the Han Tang Inn. And naturally, terracotta warriors greet us at every corner.

Something all hostels should have: kittens. While settling in and waiting for the guys to arrive, three tiny kittens wandered into our dorm. I am immediately obsessed. My first night is somewhat sleepless, due to the constant purring from a tiny white kitten who has decided to curl up next to me in bed. It’s like sleeping next to a tiny furry engine.

Xi’an is one of the ancient capitals of China. Most famous now for the terracotta warriors uncovered in the 70′s. It is also the one place I promised I wouldn’t go without my brother, who is a big history buff. Oh man.. it did not disappoint. My jaw hit the floor as we walked inside a live archaeological dig the size of an aircraft hanger, with hundreds of soldiers standing in battle-ready formation. Perhaps the only thing I enjoyed more than the actual warriors was my brother’s constant stream of commentary and obvious excitement

This morning we headed towards Hua Shan, one of Taoism’s holiest mountains. Having been in the Himalayas and the famed Yangshuo carsts, I wondered how much I would be impressed by Hua Shan. In truth, the Lonely Planet doesn’t do it justice. The five peaks are all around 2000m each, and the hike up is more often climbing up a vertical stone ladder while gripping a metal chain. It was a grueling afternoon, and it didn’t help that our 2 hour ride back to the city was spent on flimsy plastic stools in between the aisle of the bus. Oof. Think of it as the post-hike anti-stretch.

Tomorrow evening we head back to Beijing. It’s hard to believe that my trip is more or less over. It feels like yesterday I was just touching down in Lhasa with my entire summer stretching before me. We’ll still be touring around Beijing, but I’m simultaneously wrapping up my apartment and this time next week… I’ll be back in Hong Kong preparing for the next chapter. Eep.

Naturally this means I have a ton of images to work through.. a photographer’s trip is never over Ok. I am totally beat. Time for sleep.. zzzzz..

Melissa and I have been on every form of transport imaginable at this point (except for a mule. But we’ve still got time, so I’m not ruling anything out.) Some days we move at mind-boggling speed, touching down in two or three cities in one day. Other times we hang around cafes and linger at a snail’s pace. However no chronicle of our travels would be complete without a faithful account of our trip to the Three Gorges.

The Three Gorges

The heart beat of China is the Yangtze river. It begins in the frigid Tibetan plateau and winds right through the Middle Kingdom and is the dividing line of northern and southern China. The Three Gorges Dam completed in 2007 and flooded a region the size of Singapore, and caused the relocation over 1.2 million. Roughly 90% of the historical sites on the famed cruise is now submerged, with relics dating back to the Tang dynasty (aprox 600 AD) and beyond.

The best way to experience the gorges is on a three day cruise from Chongqing, ending in Yichang, Hubei. From there, it’s a four hour bus to Wuhan, another mega-city in China.

The Roach Boat

Melissa and I decided to take the cruise, and whattheheck, fighting back the guilt of not sticking to our backpacking ways, we splurged and got a first class ticket. Thank God we did. At the docks, we fought off porters insisting on carrying our bags (“only 10 kuai! you foreigner! you girl! I carry!”) and stepped on board the boat.. to find ourselves in the dingiest, dreariest, barely sea-worthy ship. After aimlessly wandering around what I figured to be the engine room, we realized the docks were filled over capacity and they had lined up several ships. We eventually found ourselves in a slightly more stable looking ship. With air con, thank heavens. There’s a reason they call Chongqing and Wuhan the furnaces of China.

We settled into our bearths, and got ready for the journey. In China, “classes” are something of a misnomer. Almost every hotel you see will likely be labeled three or four starred. Usually that means unfinished lobbies, fixtures that don’t work and if you’re lucky – a working toilet. On this occasion, it meant mouldy ceilings and a shower over a squatty potty. (We were quite bewildered as to how we would be able to use it without flooding the bathroom.)

To be clear, I don’t particularly like entries like this. I’m not fond hearing stories from travelers who go to developing countries and only come back complaining of the bathrooms and local habits. Yes, there is much to adjust to, but if you can look past the bathrooms and “adventurous” foods, China is an ancient culture with so much to offer in culture and heritage.

That said… you still need to see the humor in situations

So with that, we drifted into the sunset along the Yangtze, our first night as sea-faring backpackers. Sometime around 5AM or so, I heard a loud gasp and found Melissa sitting straight up in bed.

“what happened?” I mumbled

“something ran across my hand. omg. I’m afraid to look.”

In the semi-darkness, she lifts up her pillow and a tiny “eep!” escaped. We’re not sure what it was, but all bets are that it was a roach. You gotta hand it to the girl. I’d a) either have slept right through it and wound up with it in my hair or something or b) had a much more forceful reaction than just “eep!”

Suffice to say, there was a mild sense of paranoia for the next two days. I eventually managed to get the sucker with a well-timed whack with a sandal (ok, maybe several wild flails of the sandal) but we sleep with all the lights on and with one eye open.

I R Cattle.

I have a particular loathing for tours. Maybe it’s an authority issue, but I hate being hearded like cattle, following an obnoxious mega-phone and flag. Although I’m sure the sight of us in the tour must have been pretty funny. Melissa was the only caucasian on any of the cruises we saw, and with her, a rather surly-faced Chinese translator. Me. Everywhere we go, people seem to think that either I’m her translator or accompanying her as a foreign investor in China. We are quite a pair.

Now that majority of the sites along the gorges have been flooded, the government has come up with some interesting gimicks to keep the tourists happy. Our first stop, Ghost City. A temple dedicated to the Chinese god of the underworld and a depiction of the eighteen levels of hell dating back to the Tang dynasty. The site is rather small and located on a hill, and to accomodate the flood of tourists, the government built a second site on an adjoining hill. The lamest, cheeziest haunted house you can possibly imagine. What got me really puzzled however, were that tourists kept pausing in the middle of the haunted house to bow to the mechanized “ghosts”. That or the finer points of Chinese superstition is just lost on me.

The Little Three Gorges

If you can endure the Roach Boat, and the lameness of the first day of “cultural sites” on the Three Gorges tour, you will be richly rewarded once you hit the actual Gorges and the spectacular “Little Three Gorges” and “Little Little Three Gorges”. We disembarked onto a smaller ferry followed by a small bamboo boat, ferried by a singing local of the area.

The next day, we toured some of the most mind-boggling natural senery I have ever seen, walking on floating bridges of recycled plastic and climbing the narrowest gorges and the home of Qu Yuan, where the Dragon Boat Festival first originated.

In my mind, that more than made up for the half sleepless nights, the moldy walls, and heck, even the haunted house.

Oh, and in the end.. we did figure out how to work the shower without the toilet overflowing. But… I still flooded our floor. Oops Sorry Mel!

It’s been about a week since I met up with Melissa. We spent our time in Sichuan visiting (and holding) pandas, stuffing ourselves silly with local Sichuan cuisine, and touring around the local sites like Le Shan Buddha, carved out of the side of a mountain and the largest seated Buddha in the world.

Jiuzhaigou deserves an entry on it’s own. It’s a harrowing twelve hour bus ride from Chengdu, winding through mountains and bumpy roads, with unexpected traffic jams thanks to avalanches and reconstruction after the Sichuan earthquake. Our driver probably deserves a medal for either getting us there in record time or making a third of his passengers throw up. But once you are in the mountains, it is worth every bump and jostle along the way. Despite being Canadian (and darn proud of our national parks) I have never seen anything so beautiful and pristine. Hard to imagine that it is all part of the same country that is so heavily polluted and developing at a breakneck pace.

Undoubtedly the best part were the friends we made along the way. Nothing beats bonding over yak skewers and dubious dishes imbibed with yak butter. We traveled with a group of hilarious Canadians guys and a lovely French girl. Melissa and I actually waved little while hankies as they pulled off for their next stop. They will be sorely missed, but I have the most wonderful memories of us horseback riding through Tibetan mountain villages, playing with a new born lamb (I have never seen Melissa’s mothering instinct kick in until now) and being blessed by Tibetan monks. Oh and meeting a living buddha. Because how many people in the world can say that??

Tonight finds me on the docks of Chongqing. After a minor scare aboard what appeared to be the steerage class of a cargo ship, we are finally aboard the right ship bound for the Yangtze river on a cruise for the famed Three Gorges. I wish I could show you a shot of our room right now with Stevie Wonder streaming in through the PA system. I was a bit concerned about the floods which hit the area about a week ago, however things as of today are back to normal. Praise God it has air con. They don’t call Chongqing one of China’s three furnaces for nuthin’.

Anchors away!

That said, this entry is about how we got accidentally left behind on Mt. Everest, lost in the dark and how we found our way back to base camp. With a little photographic creativity.

setting off
I set off for base camp three days ago from Lhasa. Our little band of travelers consisted of random people from all over China who wanted to share a ride. Tibet is seriously politically sensitive territory. Foreigners and local Chinese don’t really mix as foreigners need special permits, a local guide and a set itinerary. Which means the only back packers you will be able to organize a shared ride with, are Chinese travelers.

This has been a bit of a new experience for me as an overseas born Chinese, and certainly eye-opening. However I must say, I’m really grateful to have had these new friends.

From Lhasa to Mt. Everest base camp is a two day drive, stopping over at Shigatse. I had struggled with headaches in Lhasa but thought I had acclimated by the time we arrived in Shigatse, which is 1000 km above Lhasa. The moment I stepped foot on Everest at 5000 km however, I could tell it wasn’t going to be easy.

base camp
Within an hour of our arrival, everyone else seemed to be doing fine. Except me. I was fighting back the urge to dry heave and a pounding headache. From base camp, most tourists will take transport to the next summit where there is a fantastic view of the top of Mt. Everest. Against what is probably my better judgment, I got on the bus. I don’t think I could have forgiven myself if I came all this way and passed up the chance to see it up close because of a stupid headache.

This side of the Himalayas is completely barren and icy. Nothing but the tiniest weeds grow, and the ground is cut with icy streams from the glaciers above. Nat Geo adventurers make it look so darn easy. I’m a pretty healthy and active girl, but I felt like I moved in slow motion up there and was panting for air after every few steps.

for the love of the game
There is something unique about photographers that sets us apart from other creative pursuits. For one, our craft straddles between technology and artistry. Another is that to be a photographer is to be infinitely curious about the world. We lug our cameras to the far corners of the earth and even though the trip is over, our journey is only half begun. We wake up at insane hours to catch the light and in short, go to great lengths to capture the perfect frame.

So naturally, it was a dozen of us photographers that got left behind on the summit, after the remaining transport had ferried back the very last frozen and weary tourist.

lost
By the time we realized there was no bus coming back for us, it was almost night fall. There was some debate in the group (“no way they would leave us here!”) before the consensus was that it probably wouldn’t be a very good idea to wait and find out.

We were likely only three to four hours’ hike away from base camp, and the feeling of imminent danger wasn’t particularly overwhelming. But how utterly unprepared we all were was rather frightening. We split into three groups (mostly based on hiking speed) and before long, we had lost the main road and were stumbling in the dark, following icy streams. We had totally lost the other groups, and despite China Mobile signs along the road up to base camp, there was definitely no reception.

Somewhere far ahead, we saw a tiny flash of light, followed by another. It took a few minutes before we realized it was the first group, using their on camera flashes and strobes to signal to us. Every 10-15 minutes or so, we’d see a few flashes, return the signal, and then flash the last group. In this way we were able to make sure we all stayed together and moved in the same general direction.

Pro/am photographers often complain that every other person now has a fancy SLR and flashy gear. In this particular instance.. I’ve never been quite so grateful.

A few hours later, we finally came to base camp, half frozen and looking like we’d all smeared blue ink on our lips. Inside the nomad tents we were staying at, the remainder of our group who had made it back earlier fussed around us offering a dozen different herbal remedies. I half heartedly gulped some down, force-fed myself a few spoonfuls of rice before falling into a restless, head-pounding slumber.

As I type this on the road back to Lhasa on my iPhone, there have already been more misadventures. But that will have to wait… Right now I’m just enjoying being at a normal elevation of 4000 km.

Some things make it worth all the trouble though. The people you will encounter while on the road, and the feeling of total freedom and empowerment. If I had to summarize this into a phrase, it’s a mindset of being open to possibilities.

Chinese travelers I have encountered often remark “niu” when they find out I’m here on my own. Niu literally means “cow” and translates as “cool” or “awesome”… (It’s a funny language sometimes) What I think is really “niu” are the people I’ve encountered along these last few days of travel. Like a retired Dutch couple who hiked across northern India together. Or a 19 year old girl from Beijing who hitched a ride to Lhasa. Or a PhD candidate and a former information officer for the Chinese government. Whoa.

Tomorrow I set off for a four day trip that will take me to the base camp of Mt. Everest. It’s 5000 M above sea level and nearly 2000 m higher than Lhasa… Which I confess, I’m a little concerned about since I am still showing slight symptoms of altitude adjustment. If all goes well, three days from now I’ll peek my head out of a yak hide tent and see the sunrise on the Himalayas.

I really, really hope I’m able to make it.

I’m traveling with a rabble of Chinese back packers, from all over the country. As the only native English speaker.. my mandarin is getting quite the work out. But in the short time we’ve gotten to know each other, it’s really remarkable to see how we’ve all bonded and take care of each other. How it all happened was a bit of kismet. I wandered into a hostel to use the bathroom and saw a notice to share a ride.. And the rest is history.

So here is a quick sign off from Lhasa, in hopes that my next entry won’t be one where I’m delirious and needing an IV.

Beijing is uncharacteristically wet and muggy. It had been raining for four days straight and even at 5 am, a cloud of vapor and smog is thick in the air. Combined with the sleep deprivation, I feel like I’m wading through a dream. I finish the haphazard stuffing of my rucksack which contains only the bare minimum I need to survive. My camera bag gets the same once over as well. Nothing more than my trusty Nikon and 3 prime lenses in terms of gear. I carry two hard drives, one turned into a photo bank that I can use to back up my handful of SD cards. This is bare bones travel photography like Mark, my mentor used to pound into my then-teenage brain. No zooms, no flashes, no fancy and intimidating gear. Back to basics.

Several hours and one stopover later, the pilot’s announcement comes over the PA. I don’t even try to contain the excitement and like every other passenger on the flight, am snapping photos as we wind our way through the Himalayas. We narrowly miss rocky cliffs and I am amazed at how close the clouds are to the top of the mountains.

Landing in Lhasa is a shock to your system. From the fighter jets that are parked on the runway, to how bright everything is. Very little of the sunlight is filtered out at this altitude.

I am completely overwhelmed to be here. In 2008 I spent two weeks living and photographing in a Tibetan refugee camp in Nepal. The experience was all the more overwhelming as I went during the riots that preceded the Beijing Olympics. Never have I found it so difficult to be an ethnic Chinese and so deeply moved by the warmth and kindness I was shown by the refugees that I am so honored to be able to call friends.

I felt the tears sting my eyes as I stepped out of the airport. I had never planned to be here. Foreigners need special passes to visit the TAR, but through my citizenships I have the freedom to move around like a local. And all I could think of was how unfair it was that I can come and go with such ease, and yet so many of my friends from here can never return to their home.

Thus begins the first leg of my back packing trip. I meet up with Melissa in a week, but Tibet.. This magical world that captures the imagination and has stolen my heart… This is a journey I take alone.

As it turns out, Keith is one awesome guy. He didn’t tease me too much, but he did shove me through the door. Literally. I found myself blinking, dazed among all those girls. And I had been the awkward tomboy all throughout high school. But sometimes what you dread the most, turns out to be a blessing in disguise. This post isn’t about the merits of greek life. But it is about friendship and sisterhood. Because that’s how I came to know Melissa. Who even on a bad day, is seven different shades of awesome.

There are some experiences that bond you together for life. I happen to consider breaking an international embargo one of those experiences.

Sophomore year, I had this hair brained idea to go to Cuba. “It’s easy. We’ll go via Bahamas and… figure out the rest when we get there.” I was a little floored when Melissa actually agreed to come. We spent a week backpacking around Havana, smuggled back contraband, and have been inseparable since. This girl gets me and my wacky sense of humor, can put up with my neuroses and is always up for an adventure. She’s pretty much a saint and Lara Croft rolled into one. If I were stuck on a desert island, I’d want a swiss army knife.. and Melissa. It’s a toss-up as to which would save our butts first.

Since that fated trip to Cuba, we’ve had more adventures.. both together and apart. Melissa decided to commit to serving with the Peace Corps after graduation and was stationed in Kyrgyzstan days before the revolution broke out. A little over a week ago, she was evacuated and is now back on US soil. I was stunned to receive her call, which was only two days after her return. And….. immediately launched into a speech on why she should fly out to China and spend a month backpacking with me.

She agreed.

…

.

I told you she was mind-bogglingly awesome.

Next Friday, she’s flying into Jetsonville before hopping onto another flight to the mainland, where we rendezvous after I get off a train from Lhasa. I can not even begin to tell you how insanely excited I am that she is coming.

Mel, you are a sister and friend in so many more ways than I can count. We’ve seen each other through thick and thin, and as I like to say – we are like iron sharpening iron. I would not want to be one of those-annoying-girls-who-are-married-to-each-other-on-facebook with anyone else. I can not WAIT to see you!! Epic Trip 2010 is going to be a blast. I’m so thrilled you are coming!!!