Is there anything as luxurious as lingering over high tea with a good friend?

I snapped a few shots today with my iPhone – nothing fancy. The tea and scones more than made up for my lack of SLR-ness.

This brings me back to my favorite memory of my grandmother, at high tea at the Peninsula. I remember her as a wild child disguised in pearls. She taught me that the best lived-life is finding peace with contradiction: success is managing a series of failures. Wealth is giving generously and freely. A rebel can still be a lady.

High tea is a rare reminder for me to slow down and remember the important things in life. I am so thankful for the wonderful people who encourage me and keep me grounded. And of course, girl friends to giggle with and savor the rare tranquil moment in an otherwise hectic life.

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!

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.

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.

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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!!!

I heart being an international student in Beijing. But every once in a while, I need an escape from my life here. Sometimes a girl just needs to get away from the “Woo Crowd.” What’s the Woo Crowd you ask? Well let me tell you. International students are congregated in Beijing’s Wudaokou area. They come from all different countries and usually our medium of communication outside of classrooms is English. I like to refer to us as the “Woo Crowd” because of Wudaokou, and also because  cries of “WOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo!!!!!!!!” can be heard anywhere within a 5 mile radius.

Don’t get me wrong. I love to have fun. I love hanging out with my friends. I love being the nutcase that I secretly am. But I came to China for more than just a collegiate experience. For something totally unique to this amazing, bustling city. That’s where The Hutong comes in. It is a melting pot of creatives drawing in everyone from artists to tai chi masters to culinary chefs. For the past year, it has been my haven. I was privileged to teach my own photography courses and floored that there were people who wanted to learn from me. And then the news spread. Friends would ring me up and say they read of my classes in The Beijinger. City Weekend. Time Out. Even China Daily. Whoa.

I need to write a full other entry on how amazed I am at the doors that have opened to me through photography. But this entry isn’t about that. It’s about the wonderful people who believed in me when I was full of doubt and gave me a platform to share my passion. Mostly, it’s about my amazing friendships with people here. Some weeks ago, I decided to throw a rooftop barbecue party with some friends in Da Wu, and bring them out to The Hutong. It was like trying to mesh together my two different worlds here. And I loved it. Joel provided some amazing culinary stylings, Simon dj’d and there was good times had by all.

Joel working away and Stacy stealing cake batter

Meet Alex and adorable Theo. Alex is our Chinese Medicine practitioner and a Qigong master at The Hutong. How much do you want to baby-nap Theo???!?!? So cute!

Joel insisting on teaching me the anatomy of baby garlic shoots

This is the tea room, where I often teach. And where we hold meetings for the Beijing Photography Club

Mark and Stacey, dressing up The Hutong they originally came as tour guides from Australia and fell in love with Beijing and later founded The Hutong.

Roof top view of The Hutong

Les peeps!! I should probably have shot this before we devoured Joel’s culinary magic

I kinda have a girl crush on Monica. (You would too if you met her) She writes over at kapookababy.

Oh Beijing. How will I ever be able to leave thee?????

拆. Chai. If there is one Chinese word that could encompass the wholesale destruction of culture, it would be this character. Painted on the outer walls of buildings, it marks hutongs for demolition, only to be replaced by the same generic, mass-produced, shops and eateries found in newly developed areas of the city. Much has been written and photographed on this subject. In an effort to keep up with a globalized world, Chinese cities are all too eager to “chai” the very qualities that make them unique, slap on the right brands and shiny fixtures to fit in with the cool kids.

My friend Simon (of Metavari fame <– woo! shameless plug. Acoustic wonderfulness) is fond of long bike rides. He’ll regularly hop on his massive steel bike, throw on some tunes and ride for four hours or more at a time. On one particular occasion, I joined him for one of these ambling rides. We zipped along the crowded streets, rode helmet-less against traffic, and for all extents and purposes, took little to no precaution with our safety. (In other wards, it was just a regular bike ride in China.)

I had a budding interest in documenting what was happening in the hutongs and Simon, true to form simply said “follow me.” A few hours later, I found myself standing literally in the rubble of peoples’ former lives. (I’m not kidding. There was even a Teletubby lying among the ruins.)

Maybe this gives you an idea of the quality of life (or some people’s priorities) we came across a jacuzzi after the wall had been torn out of this hutong.

A wall that remained in tact – gives you a sense of what it must have looked like before the sledgehammers came in.

Oh Simon, you do that rockstar-looking-into-the-far-off-distance MUCH too well.

As if Simon wasn’t an amazing enough friend to go on an adventure bike ride with me.. we came across a section of wall that remained in tact, and thus, a dead end. What to do.. what to do. Any sane person would have turned around but for Simon+Eva, it was up and over. This is what we saw when we climbed onto the roof tops.

My jaw hit the ground, I tell you. This is a siheyuan （四合院）a typical home of Beijing’s wealthy, which is built around an enclosed court yard. And there we were, running along the rooftops like some kung fu movie wannabe stunt doubles.

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Sometimes I wonder what I possibly did to merit such an adventure as coming to China.

We managed to find a way down from the roof tops and entered a stunning court yard. Can you believe this is all going to be demolished??

I suspect this was once a hotel or something from the wall paper of the rooms. Graffiti covered most of the walls.

Unbelievable.

This past year however, life in the hutongs has meant more to me than the vestiges of a global city on the rise. It’s been my haven and second home. Followers of The Ricetrail know that for the past year, I’ve been teaching photography at The Hutong, a culinary and arts school that also serves as a community center. I absolutely love it there. Not just because of the novelty, or the amazing students I’ve had, but the amazing people I’ve met and the relationships I’ve formed. One of these is my friend Joel, head chef at The Hutong, a tea guru, and (I’m fairly certain) the modern incarnation of Confucius.  The Hutong deserves it’s own entry (which is to come) but I when Joel offered me the chance to poke around his latest project, I couldn’t resist.

Doesn’t look like much yet, (especially the above photo, which… well.. is kind of lacking a roof.) But this is Joel and Youngcall’s latest project. A hutong hotel. Youngcall owns Tao Yao Bar, a gem in the middle of Beijing’s Houhai District. Together, they are like Batman and Robin of creativity, design and culinary arts. In a few short months.. this place is going to be unrecognizable for sure.

So, I mentioned that Joel is a chef and a tea master. And I’m sure by now you can see his affinity for hutongs. Well, he and Youngcall actually live in one as well. I fell in love with Chez Schuchat when I tagged along to a casual dinner a few weeks ago. Joel turned the courtyard into an amazing garden with bamboo, date trees (which are amazing and look like giant bonsai trees), as well as a herb and rose garden. Instead of a conventional dining room, they have a table in the courtyard with a giant umbrella. The perfect place to camp out and do a day’s worth of computer work.. on a rainy day.

I recently purchased a new lens (85mm 1.8 Nikon Prime) and my word.. I am so in love. It gives me razor-sharp images, and incredible bokeh. Oh and it lets me get all sneaky like and take candids like this one:

Not going to lie. Since hanging around Joel, I’ve developed an obsession for Chinese tea. We went to Maliandao, the local teal market.. and let’s just say, I came back with a lot more than I intended.

Chez Shuchat (and Youngcall!) is filled with all sorts of neat things from their amblings around the world. Like this lamp in the courtyard.

I found a tiny kitty at Youngcall’s bar. Small furry things do funny things to my heart. Have I mentioned how much I love my new 85mm?!?

Last but not least, Joel’s bike. I feel less like an eternal pedestrian here in Beijing, because almost everyone gets around on bikes. I’m not sure how they manage, but a whole family of three can fit on one of these (the father is usually quite tired, I’d imagine.) I’ve always been baffled by how these dainty Chinese girls are able to perch themselves on the back of a moving bike, and make it look so easy. I’ve realized two things:

1. it takes a good biker (i.e. one not afraid of their passenger digging their fingernails out of sheer terror)

2. necessity is the mother of invention. Sometimes, you just gotta get from point A to B.

Such was the case on Saturday. I finally was able to ride side-saddle (?) on the back of a Chinese bike. Omigosh. It was harrowing. Especially when Joel insists on biking like a madman. Going against traffic. DURING RUSH HOUR!!!!

I need a shot of myself on this thing to show how massive it is (my feet are almost a foot off the ground when I sit on the seat), but also for posterity. So I remember that I too can ride like a Chinese girl. Just maybe not so dainty-like though.

Still with me? Good.

In my last post, I was heading to Harbin in China’s Heilongjiang province. At the turn of the 20th century, Harbin was a bustling city, and Heilongjiang the home of the Manchus, China’s last dynasty. Today, it is the home of the world’s largest ice festival, a quarter of the world’s Siberian tigers and of course, brutally cold temperatures. There is not only strength in masses but also body heat. With this in mind, nine of my friends and myself hopped on an over night train to my most frigid adventure yet.

Trains have always seemed the most romantic form of travel to me. (Next to ships, but how romantic is sea sickness?) Knowing how insane train stations can get in China, we decided to meet nearly two hours early. Despite our good intentions, our departure still resembled a scene from Home Alone with us running like MAD through Beijing’s railway station and quite literally made it with seconds to spare. Scratch that. Second to spare. Just one. We jumped on the end of the train as it began to pull out of the station, and dragged our luggage and sorry butts to the front of the train where our berths were located. I wish I could say this was a first for me. But at least it was better than last time on a 36 hour train ride to Yunnan, where we flat out missed our train by five minutes and watched it pull out of the station. (Baby steps, right? Baby steps.)

Despite our somewhat rocky start, the rest of the trip went off pretty much without a hitch. 45 minutes of negotiating and bunk swapping, all nine of us were settled into our bunks, and rocked to sleep by the gentle lulling and swaying of a train bound for almost-Siberia.

(SERIOUSLY) bright and early the next day, we found ourselves in a twilight zone between Russia and China. Welcome to Heilongjiang. A magical wonderland where the streets are littered with slides and sculptures made of ice, the bing tang hu lu (skewers of fruit coated with hardened sugar syrup) are the food of the gods, and everyone is a child once more. Our first stop, the Siberian Tiger Reserve.

The Lonely Planet calls this a dismal place where tigers are locked up and tourists are encouraged to buy livestock to feed to them, but personally, I thought it was amazing. I’ve been to plenty of famous zoos, but this place puts an enormous tiger within inches of your face. There may or may not have been some tiger-feeding by the gentlemen in our group. For those PETA activists, I assure you, there was plenty of squealing and squirming from the ladies.

A female liger (cross between tiger and lion). Remember Napoleon Dynamite? Well it turns out, ligers are real!!

After a Russian dinner (borsch, anyone? mm…) we were off to Harbin’s biggest attraction. The Ice and Snow festival. I have never seen anything so incredible. Here I have a sort-of regret. My fingers were pretty frigid, and I didn’t shoot as much (with my SLR) as I would have liked. But that’s only part of the reason. The bulk of it is I felt like I was six years old again, and was WAY too busy having fun. For the first time since I was a kid, the ice-slides were proportional to my size! It was truly amazing to see full grown adults running around like giddy children. But then again, how could you help it???

bing tang hu lu!!!!!! (nomnomnomNOMnom)

Doin’ it penguin-style!!!

So much fun that I split into multiple personalities to cover more ground

After taking in Harbin’s amazing sights, we set off further north for Yabuli. Once the hunting grounds of the feudal elite, and now China’s largest ski resort.

Here I’m obliged to point out Simon’s ridiculous get up (which you may or may not have noticed already). It is a bonafide PLA jacket, which he wore over his usual jacket. The ski mask and badass spider-branded gloves made him *quite* the conversation starter indeed.

I have no idea why, but Pac Man was everywhere in Harbin. And I mean everywhere! They quite literally lined the streets.

Simon, overwhelmed by the fact that he’s on the frozen Songha river, which effectively becomes a new highway in the winter, alleviating traffic.

Beautiful Harbin, on a gorgeous sunny day. Completely surreal in its east-meets-west-meets-21st century architecture.

In just about three hours, myself and nine other awesome friends are boarding a sleeper train and bound for Harbin, Heilongjiang. Otherwise known as China’s frozen tundra. The premise is to go check out the world famous ice festival, but also on the agenda is to feed a live chicken to Siberian tigers (not my idea…), go ice-sailing, and of course, snap some amazing night photography.

It’s been a rather busy semester for me and hence, I haven’t traveled anywhere in particular. This will be a much needed break, not to mention a reminder of what frostbite feels like.

Now that I’ve managed to get the internet working on my iPhone, I’ll be tweeting photos “live” from the trip (www.twitter.com/evaychan) and maybe even sneak in a blog entry or two.

See you all on the flip side!

Determined to boldly go where no KFC had gone before, our travelers headed for Tiger Leaping Gorge. A terrain so perilous said to be infested with (leaping) tigers. Twice as deep as the grand canyon, with icy waters originating from the Tibetan plateau, ranked the #4th on the world’s best white water rivers.

Booyah!

Our heroes arrive at a Tibetan guesthouse. The walls are lined with intricate carvings of ill-fated travelers:

LEAPING FOR THE BEST BED!!!! (and the mysterious Richard makes his appearance!)

Deep in the heart of the gorge.. a promised “sky ladder” … but where is it?!?!..

Conqueror of Tiger Leaping Gorge, thy name is EVA!!!

Training for the sequel of kung fu panda..

I’m pretty convinced that JK Rowling traveled extensively in China and that the sleeper buses (long distance buses packed with narrowly crammed bunk beds) were the true inspiration behind Harry Potter’s “Knight Bus”. This is me passed out in the back. Note that this is the back of the bus, and the long mattress is shared with 5 strangers. No dividers. (And no showers either.)

I swear I didn’t complain that much.. but evidently I did because this was my next transport:

Being surrounded by Frenchies really brought out my Canadian pride. Especially when I came across a real live maple tree! In a fit of nostalgia/inspiration, I came up with this. The ULTIMATE Canadian gang sign.

.. yeah, you know it’s awesome.