Rafting through Zhanggong Cave in Yixing
I was a little low on things to do for Halloween. Visiting a cave, however, seemed like an appropriate activity. While Yixing is mostly famous for its teapots, there are also three caves in the area. Zhanggong is the least popular of the three, but we chose it, because… uh… why did we choose it, again? Zhanggong Cave is small, and most of the scenery inside is actually man-made. I could tell, because it was falling apart. The cheesy, colored lights don’t help the atmosphere much, either.
The cave is part of a larger park, and though it is the main attraction there (and the most expensive if you pay for everything individually), the other activities are what made the trip fun. They had two rafting “adventures” you could take, an hour-long drift down a narrow canal or a leisurely row in the dark underneath the cave. I’m glad I went, at least to see something besides another pagoda or temple (or DVD), but, overall, the teapots really are the best thing about Yixing.
P.S. The caption contest is closed, and a winner has been selected. Congratulations, Joe!
Yinqixing, Shanghai’s Indoor Skiing Dump
Avid snowboarders (and skiers, though I choose to recognize those wimps in parentheses) probably shouldn’t expect a lot from an indoor skiing area. In the case of Shanghai’s Yinqixing, it’s one short hill divided into three levels of difficulty that can be ridden top-to-bottom in 20 seconds. Watching the Chinese patrons, however, it was clear most of them had never gone skiing before and were just enjoying the thrill of “speeding” across snow and wiping out halfway down. But if they knew any better, they would know they were getting ripped off.
I was fully aware I wouldn’t be getting the full mountain and trees experience and was planning to have fun, anyway, but things started off on a sour note when we arrived and saw that the prices had been raised 40 yuan. Wait a minute! I had checked the website in the morning before heading out, and it said nothing about a National Day surcharge. That extra money was only there to take advantage of us, too, because the park wasn’t even fully-operational during this important week.
The cashier confided in us that the snow wasn’t very good, and the third (advanced) part of the hill was closed. This was what we came to Shanghai to do, though, so we bit the bullet and paid for an hour (138 yuan). The cashier was right; the snow was horribly slushy and shallow. The beginner’s part of the hill wasn’t steep at all, and the lifts to take you up were broken. The park didn’t get them running again until we’d already been there for 30 minutes (and after they started running, they kept shutting down every few minutes), meaning we spent most of the time lugging our skis up the hill. Man, I was so pissed off.
On Yinqixing’s behalf, they did warn us about some of these setbacks, but the broken lift pushed me over the edge. I don’t care if it is a major holiday, you simply cannot charge people extra when the equipment’s not working (and don’t get me started on the missing third tier, either). This is so typical of China. They’ll start construction on a tourist attraction, cover up significant parts of it, and still ask for the same (or even a higher) price. It’s unacceptable, and I let Yinqixing know that.
At first, the cashier didn’t care about our complaints and thought our request for a refund was ridiculous. “I told you about the snow,” she said. “It’s a national holiday. The lifts were working. The website doesn’t lie. Nobody else ever complains.” Then she called the manager and, thinking we couldn’t understand Chinese, vented her frustrations to him. I don’t think she even relayed the complete reason why we wanted our money back, but the manager, after three calls, finally agreed to refund 30 yuan each. Better, but I still wasn’t pleased with the park’s overall performance and vowed never to come skiing here again. I advise you to do the same.
Bored
Funny. I was once terrified by the idea of traveling to China by myself. Now, I’ve already gotten into a routine of teaching, watching TV, going downtown to play pool, and then coming home to write about it that makes it very easy to feel bored. This is a confession I’ve heard from many foreigners: the awe of living in China has worn off, and they’ve started dreaming of better days working in a bigger city like Shanghai. I’m not sure what it is about Shanghai that attracts everyone. I got tired of the city the second time I went there, but then I’m also not a fan of the bar/club scene.
When you’re preparing to go to a foreign country, you get this picture that every day is going to be an adventure. And I guess if you really wanted that adventure, you could take a random bus out into the suburbs, give all your money away, and hitchhike back into the city. But it makes more sense to simply seek out common entertainment like the arcade, the ice skating rink, the bowling alley, the pool hall… Since I’ve seen almost all of the attractions listed in the Changzhou Guidebook, I end up spending my free time sinking eight balls in corner pockets. I came all the way to China just to improve my game of pool? What happened to learning the language?
Oh. Right. The Chinese word for pool is “tai qiu.” See? I’m still working on it.
Snowboarding in Yabuli
Snowboarding is one of the few sports I like, and it’s one of the few sports I like that I’m actually good at. I was a little depressed, then, to leave Utah’s ski resorts and move to China where skiing isn’t very popular (and snowboarding even less). That’s not to say skiing doesn’t exist. There are several ski resorts in Northern China. Yabuli is considered the biggest and best.
Yeah, and we all know what that means.
Expensive, sub-par slopes notwithstanding, I needed to go snowboarding. Yabuli is a three-hour train ride away from Harbin, though, and the ticket office sold me a standing ticket. I bought that ticket well in advance, for a weekday, and they still gave me standing! What were they thinking?! Couldn’t they tell I’m a pretentious American who needs to sit down? Or maybe that was the problem. What really gets me, though, is how I was able to get a seat on the way back, but that ticket was only 17 yuan while the standing ticket was 30. Seriously, guys, you need to work on this.
When I got to Yabuli, I was immediately confronted by a woman who wanted to shuttle me to the ski resort and help me rent my equipment and buy a lift ticket, etc. etc. She didn’t know any English but insisted I couldn’t do this without her help. Not that I cared having her tag along. I found her company kind of amusing. Surprisingly, I understood about 80% of everything she said, and I think I had my best Chinese conversation with her. Situations like this—where you absolutely have to speak Chinese—help you realize you really do know more than you give yourself credit for.
I ran into one problem, though: it was very difficult explaining that I wanted to snowboard and not ski. I was under the impression that the word for snowboarding was “huaxueban,” since “huaxue” means skiing and “ban” means board (as in “huaban” for skateboard), but I guess this just refers to the ski itself and not the act of skiing. So this poor woman could not figure out why I kept saying, “I don’t like skiing. I like the skis!” The lesson to be learned here is… there is no word for snowboarding. Rather, you have to specifically say “one ski.” This reminds me of how there is only one word for both escalator and elevator: dianti (which is easy to remember; it literally means “electric ladder”). Still, you’d think they would just invent new words so people wouldn’t have to unnecessarily elaborate.
Stand and Sing for the Olympics
There is a huge TV in the center of the shopping mall that plays Olympic games all day long. Last night, several people—myself included—stopped to watch the women’s badminton game, China against the US. And I found myself in a predicament. Normally, I cheer for the US when the US is playing another country, and I cheer for China when China is playing another country. So who do I root for when they play each other?! I just wanted one side to hurry up and win so I could say, “Yep, that’s mah team,” but the advantage kept creeping up until China finally won 29 to 27.
On a similar note, I had gone out with a friend yesterday, and she asked if I could sing America’s national anthem. I froze up. All that came to mind was the tune of “Mo Li Hua.” In fact, I couldn’t remember how any English song went! How sad is that? The transformation has begun…
Of course, just when my “ting bu dong” anger issues were subsiding, I got worked over by some guys in the elevator. It’s silly, but it really is my pet peeve, like how you don’t call Marty McFly “chicken” or Raymond J. Johnson “Mr.” But, you know, there will come a day when I do “dong,” and that’ll be the day when I’ve also forgotten how to say the pledge of allegiance.
I’m totally joking about that last bit.
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