The Perfect Weekend
This last weekend was definitely the best weekend I've ever had in China. On Friday we traveled to Hou Hai, a beautiful and serene area surrounded by three huge lakes. Around the lakes are restaurants, cute stores, and of course many bars and clubs. We left our apartments later than anticipated with one of our usual six girls staying behind. We made sure to get detailed directions from our co-workers who had visited the area the previous weekend. She handed us a map and circled the address of where the hostel was located. We got off of our metro stop around 8:00 and walked for about 30 minutes until deciding to ask for help. A worker from a dessert shop points us straight while simultaneously speaking in Mandarin. Before long we agree to flag a tuk tuk down because we were told that taxis can't go through Hou Hai. Squeezing five people into a tuk tuk, the driver takes us on a long and crazy ride. He drops us off in the middle of Hou Hai, nowhere close to our hostel and we are forced to pay him 100 RMB for basically taking us in the wrong direction. Hou Hai is filled with locals dining out and every building is lit up with colorful lights. In the middle is one of the three lakes. We walk aimlessly without knowing what we should do about the current situation. Then we see a map, written in Chinese, we attempt to ask the girls standing by it how to get to our hostel. She tells us that the walk will be long but that we should avoid tuk tuks because they are expensive and rip you off....
By this point, it's getting pretty late and I"m starting to get worried because we are two hours passed our check in time for our hostel and some of us think that if we don't find it soon we should try to catch the last subway back to our apartments. Slowly I feel raindrops falling, rapidly increasing speed and before long, it's pouring. We run towards the nearest tuk tuk (once again). By now the rain is going sideways and regardless we are all soaked by the end of the ride. The driver urges me to sit in the front seat beside him because there is only room for four people in the back. I laugh at his kind gesture for me to move closer to him so that I don't get rained on. He finds the hostel and with ease, I must admit. We do our usual charade game of trying to figure out how much the ride costs, the driver punches in 200 RMB on Michaela's phone and we all shake our heads no. I was in disbelief at the cost of our short ride and he made movements at the rain as if saying, "Because it rained and the fact that there are five American girls means that I am justified by my 200 RMB price". Aggravated I hand him my fake 50 from the Pearl Market and walk away. The hostel was so different compared to our last one. The interior of the building is nothing like the rooms. Scratched paint, creaky stairs, and flickering lights make up the hostel, but the rooms are the total opposite. Comfortable white sheets and fancy walls with a white closet, this hostel was better than any hotel I had ever stayed at. The hostel is quiet and mostly filled with locals. One the second floor is a rooftop hangout spot with plants and seats and a view that overlooks Hou Hai. There is also a beautiful garden where Michaela and I had coffee in the morning. Our rooms were split three different ways with Jocelyn rooming with two other Chinese girls. We wait for the rain to slow down and return back to where we got dropped off the first time.
The rain caused many people to leave, As I walk down the street, there are less people than I expected. We stop at a reggae bar that caught my eye because of the Bob Marley poster and the cheap prices. Inside are where all of the foreigners are hidden. The sound of "Hotel California" is playing live by three musicians on the drums and the walls are covered in writing from people all over the world instantly make me smile. Already I can feel the good vibes in the air. We order food and drinks. Before leaving, I scribble a message on the coffee table and date it Summer 2015.
The next morning, we leave for the Lama Temple (the one temple that I insisted we visit while being here). At the entrance they hand out free incense to burn throughout the temple. I engage in the ceremony, watching as the Chinese people grab three incense burn it and bow five times, sometimes kneeling, but most of the times just standing in front of the building. It seems as though praying is a rite of passage through each section. The air, already smoggy, is now mixed in with the smell of incense burning. The last building holds a 4 story tall Buddah made of gold. It was a sight like no other. Although there are a lot of tourists who enter through here, there are also many Chinese people who are here to pray and practice Tibetan Buddhism. I had absolutely no idea why they were bowing their heads or what was going through their minds as they lit their incense, but somehow, it felt right. At the exit we run into five Irish travelers who were looking for work in Shanghai but didn't have much luck. They were living there for about 7 weeks and after failing at finding a job to teach English, they decided to continue to travel to Southeast Asia and then return to their home country in Ireland. Whenever I meet a traveler, I am always fascinated at how simple they make traveling sound. As if money and time is really not a limitation but only an obstacle that we create for ourselves.
By this point, it's getting pretty late and I"m starting to get worried because we are two hours passed our check in time for our hostel and some of us think that if we don't find it soon we should try to catch the last subway back to our apartments. Slowly I feel raindrops falling, rapidly increasing speed and before long, it's pouring. We run towards the nearest tuk tuk (once again). By now the rain is going sideways and regardless we are all soaked by the end of the ride. The driver urges me to sit in the front seat beside him because there is only room for four people in the back. I laugh at his kind gesture for me to move closer to him so that I don't get rained on. He finds the hostel and with ease, I must admit. We do our usual charade game of trying to figure out how much the ride costs, the driver punches in 200 RMB on Michaela's phone and we all shake our heads no. I was in disbelief at the cost of our short ride and he made movements at the rain as if saying, "Because it rained and the fact that there are five American girls means that I am justified by my 200 RMB price". Aggravated I hand him my fake 50 from the Pearl Market and walk away. The hostel was so different compared to our last one. The interior of the building is nothing like the rooms. Scratched paint, creaky stairs, and flickering lights make up the hostel, but the rooms are the total opposite. Comfortable white sheets and fancy walls with a white closet, this hostel was better than any hotel I had ever stayed at. The hostel is quiet and mostly filled with locals. One the second floor is a rooftop hangout spot with plants and seats and a view that overlooks Hou Hai. There is also a beautiful garden where Michaela and I had coffee in the morning. Our rooms were split three different ways with Jocelyn rooming with two other Chinese girls. We wait for the rain to slow down and return back to where we got dropped off the first time.
The next morning, we leave for the Lama Temple (the one temple that I insisted we visit while being here). At the entrance they hand out free incense to burn throughout the temple. I engage in the ceremony, watching as the Chinese people grab three incense burn it and bow five times, sometimes kneeling, but most of the times just standing in front of the building. It seems as though praying is a rite of passage through each section. The air, already smoggy, is now mixed in with the smell of incense burning. The last building holds a 4 story tall Buddah made of gold. It was a sight like no other. Although there are a lot of tourists who enter through here, there are also many Chinese people who are here to pray and practice Tibetan Buddhism. I had absolutely no idea why they were bowing their heads or what was going through their minds as they lit their incense, but somehow, it felt right. At the exit we run into five Irish travelers who were looking for work in Shanghai but didn't have much luck. They were living there for about 7 weeks and after failing at finding a job to teach English, they decided to continue to travel to Southeast Asia and then return to their home country in Ireland. Whenever I meet a traveler, I am always fascinated at how simple they make traveling sound. As if money and time is really not a limitation but only an obstacle that we create for ourselves.
To top off the weekend, Sunday was the perfect adventure. Our whole group had been talking about going to the Longquing Gorge for a couple of weeks but for various reasons, it never happened. Today, eight of us were determined to find it. We started our day early, leaving our apartments at 5:45, catching the subway to the first bus stop. The directions didn't line up with the description of where we were dropped off so we wander around, asking people and pointing to the number of the bus written on our hand. One person grabbed the pen, drew circles and lines, speaking in Chinese we recognize the words "Bus 5". Someone suggested to ask the women standing by the bus stops next to the maps because of the badges on their arms and she spits out more words that we can't comprehend. Then, pointing at each of us she says that it will cost 105 RMB each and we nod then she says some more words in Mandarin. A minute later, she repeats and emphasizes the cost again. I start questioning her motive, but she is already leading us somewhere. I walk slowly behind, hesitant about the situation and three other girls also stop walking. We ask a girl who is a part of a tour visit if she speaks English and immediately one of the bus woman who was following us from behind (which I had no idea about) moves in between the two of us, speaking over her voice. At that moment, I knew that we had to stop following them.
3 more bus rides, 4 more hours and we have finally arrived at the gorge. The site of mountains and trees gives me instant positive energy. The place is huge and the view takes my breath away. An American family informs us of how to get to the top to bungee jump and zip line. We adventure through the dragon on an escalator that takes us to the top where we get on a boat. The woman standing in front of the boat speaks through a microphone in Chinese about the gorge. She points and I look, unaware of the rich history behind this place and the educational words that she speaks. I pull out my phone and attempt to capture the beauty, but photos simply do not do this place justice so I put it back in my bag, lean against my chair and try to take it all in.
Bungee jumping off of the board 48 meters down was the scariest thing that I have ever experienced. I watched as each of us jumped off and I was the 4th in line. I gathered my thought, seconds before I'm about to jump with velcro strapped to my ankle and tape around my shirt, I'm unusually calm given the situation. After three big breaths, I feel as prepared as I possibly can be. Two men are up there with me, not a single word is uttered since neither of them speak English. Finally I'm standing over the ledge and I peer out at the green water. For a split second, I doubt my confidence, my heart pounding loudly and the man pushes on my back and I release my grip on the railing. Exhilaration takes over as I'm free falling, I feel the rope spring back up and I can see stars shimmer across the blurry water. Everything goes by really fast and I notice myself laughing, hysterically. I can't believe I just went bungee jumping in China. The motor boat meets me as I dangle there, the blood rushing to my head. I grab onto the bamboo stick and two men pull me down and unstrap me. I can't stop smiling.
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