Day Four of Tour (Yangshuo to Xi'an)

We awoke with a desire to hurry up and relax, as we scrambled to get dressed and get outside, making certain to have a river-side seat as we ate breakfast.  It was well worth the scrambling, as we were able to take in the tranquil scenery of our lush surroundings as we ordered and were served breakfast.  It has been rare for us to order food and be served, as of late, as we’ve either eaten a buffet breakfast or have been served food pre-ordered by our guide. So, ordering food of our own chosen from a relatively basic menu selection was a bit of a novelty.  Breakfast, as usual, was lovely, but all the more enjoyable given our being able to eat it al fresco in what felt like a movie set.

Our breakfast ended and heralded Eva’s arrival.  She was as bubbly and enthusiastic as she’d left us the night before, and we were even more enamored with her; she had begun to feel like our first real friend in this foreign land, and her expectant solicitousness, which seemed so sincere, made us feel so cared for.  Refreshed, though well-rested would be a stretch, last night’s hesitation to get up and going for the bamboo raft ride had given way to excitement, as we set off in our now familiar mini-van, in our respective seats, down the increasingly bumpy roads leading into the countryside.  Our morning ride offered views of farmland and occasional ducks and water buffalo.  We saw few of the insanely ginormous apartment buildings and complexes, and more small, low individual houses, clustered together in farmland.  We finally bumped our way to a stop, after winding through a few narrow streets in a small river-side village. 

We were becoming even more excited with as we clearly were approaching the beginning of yet another peek China adventure.  The area was the most rural we’d gotten to explore.  It was a beautiful morning, with a clear and sunny sky (which is so not to be taken for granted, given the amount of smog we’ve now seen).  Eva led us to the riverfront “port.”  We passed many Feng Shui decorated doorways and tiny gardens creatively crammed between houses.  Eva advised us how much to tip our river raft pushers (what to call them, because it wasn’t a gondola like in Italy, but most “drivers” used a long bamboo pole to propel the raft by pushing the pole off the bottom of the river) and then ushered us each aboard:  Linda on one raft, DeAnn and Lisa on one, and Nancy and Theresa on another.  Each boat, with its rafter (I’ll say “rafter” since “pusher” sounds not so nice) was outfitted with two seats and a lovely green umbrella for protection from the sun.  Oh, what a sight, all the rafts clustered along the shore with their picturesque umbrellas.  Were there cameramen lurking on shore, snapping photos for travel agency brochures?!  We were truly giddy at this point, it was just so pretty - - the river, the rafts, the mountains.  We could now see why Eva objected to cutting out this part of our tour in lie of sleeping in.  What a mistake we would have been making!

We spent a lovely hour our so floating along the river, getting a closer view of farmland and the mountains in the background, but really, far from the hustle and bustle of the city, our fellow raft riders and the rafters were as much of interest to watch as the scenery.  There was an obvious camaraderie among the rafters, as they struck up conversations with each other as one raft glided alongside another.  Perhaps there were others on the river who were not Chinese, but to our undiscerning eyes, we were the only obvious foreigners we saw on our river trip.  There were so many Chinese families taking in the spectacular scenery and joy of being on the water.  Adults laughing and snapping photos, young boys with their parents wielding water squirters, Chinese women using the added protection of what we would call arm warmers, and umbrellas covering their legs, to keep the sun off.  It was refreshing to engage in activity that was off the beaten path and so obviously and understandably enjoyed by the Chinese.  We passed a few vendors set up in the river, with their wears (food and souvenirs both) floating atop a wooden platform buoyed by perhaps water drums lashed together.  Stoppered PVC piping was another form of flotation creation.  The ingenuity was impressive and the ride down the Li River will no doubt remain a lasting treasure from all of our travels here.

After a few shots with Chinese tourists who find DeAnn’s height a marvel and novelty and want their picture taken with her (and she in turn then takes a picture with them, keeping a record of her paparazzi experience) we made our way through the small tourist town and back to our van.  It feels trite and cliché to say the village was charming, but really, it’s difficult to describe it any other way.  Our hearts were absolutely melted, though, by what looked to be grandparents in a wayside clothing stall, watching their grandson chase a chicken between them.  Oh, my goodness, the little toddler was ridiculously cute, as were his adoring grandparents.  Even after all that natural beauty, the little family scene played out before us, so familiar (well, maybe not the chicken) and universal, was what we commented on the most. 

Back in the van we headed to our next destination, and last before leaving Yangzhou, the Pearl Museum.  Here we learned about the history of pearls, the freshwater cultivated pearls vs. the China South Sea pearls, how to distinguish real from fake pearls, what a pearl looks like being popped fresh out of an oyster, how the value of a pearl is evaluated, and why there are different colored pearls, all from our snappily dressed supremely informative guide, who then directed us into a huge pearl showroom where we were, not surprisingly, encouraged to buy…pearls.  The showroom was organized by type of jewelry and by rank or class of pearl.  Each of us made some sort of purchase, as it seemed ridiculous not to.  Though still not crazy inexpensive, on a relative scale, the little beauties were so reasonably priced and alluring, and a fitting way to end this leg of our trip, as we prepared for lunch and then another domestic plan ride, to Xi’an, our next stop and home of the Terracotta Warriors.  Stepping out of the western-like showroom to head down a short hall to the restroom, we were all reminded that we were far from being in West County Mall, as tucked away in the dimly lit corridor, we could see sofas and cots where workers were napping, probably trying to get some sleep in preparation for their next shift in the Pearl Museum.

Pearls tucked away, Eva was excited to take us to our last stop, her favorite rice noodle shop, a decidedly non-tourist destination.  Again, we were the only westerners in the place, and had we not been guided by Eva, in this little place, it might have been hard to know how to navigate it, despite its small and unassuming size.  Upon entering, one paid what seemed a flat rate of about seven cents and then moved on the to the window to the kitchen at the back of the establishment.  In doing so, we passed a few tables of interested onlookers already slurping down lunch.  Definitely a local crowd.  Super friendly, but super curious about us.  So, it seemed as if there was one basic rice noodle bowl that was given to everyone who showed up at the kitchen window: brothy noodle soup with crispy strips of meaty pork resting invitingly in the middle, awaiting garnish.  Adjacent to the kitchen pass-through window was the row of additives and condiments, mostly chives and multiple varieties of hot peppers, if memory serves correctly.  There were maybe five options.  We made our way down these bowls and turned to find a table and the faces of curious onlookers waiting to see what we’d do next.  Never have we been so compelling.  If only our students would show the same degree of interest in our every move! 

As one might have guessed, that simple noodle dish has turned out to be some of the best food we’ve had yet.  Deeeelicious.  The broth, the obviously fresh noodles, and the meet cooked to perfection - - tender, crispy.  Oh, how we’ve pined for those noodles and another such culinary experience.  It was a glorious way to exit Yangzhou and remains, hands down, the best of the best in terms of the complete package: delightful company (we have all bonded beyond belief by now), or dear beloved tour guide, Eva, scrumptious food in a most interesting and enjoyable little place.  Ending on such a high note made parting with Eva all the more teary. 

We were kind of a teary mess at the airport, as we bid Eva good-bye.  She escorted us as far as she could, through lines and baggage check.  Really, we’d known her for only a couple of days, but she felt like our link to someone who cared.  She was going to pick up another group of folk tomorrow, but there is no way that they will love her like we did and do.  We like to think that it’s mutual, as she could not have been more gracious, informative and endearing.  We were SO sad to wave good-bye as we passed beyond her view.  Sigh…

We landed with much anticipation, wondering who would await our arrival.  If only it were going to be Eva.  But no, it was Jackie (yes, as in Jackie Chan, the young tour guide’s chosen namesake).  And, let’s just cut to the chase: Jackie did not disappoint.  No, he was no Eva, but we became quite quickly fond of him, too, not because we are a fickle lot, but because he is indeed a wonderful person in his own right.  Jackie, like Eva, truly seemed to love his job.  It became quickly apparent that he, too, was proud of this area of China he’d been showing; he was an absolute encyclopedia of information about the area, and he allowed us to pummel him with questions.  We soon learned that he has an amazing life story, but more on that later.

He ushered us off quickly to the Tang Dynasty Show at a hotel near our own.  We were cutting it close to still make the show, given our late arrival due to the flight delay, and in all honesty, kind of like with Eva, we all were much more in the mood for a quick dinner (like another bowl of those dreamy rice noodles) and a hot shower, than for a show.  Again, exhaustion was talking, and what was there that could top the Impressionist Show we’d seen the night before.  Well, in a word: nothing.   What the show had going for it was that it was preceded by dinner.  The idea of a meal at a large international hotel, after having had Chinese airplane food (think about that for a moment) to sustain us, was compelling. 

We were pretty worried about our grungy attire, but it turned out that Jackie was right (as we’d find he was in most things).  What we had on was, “Not a problem.”  We slid in at the last minute, dinner already well underway, with a hodgepodge of humanity – Chinese and foreigners alike, in a large and ornate terraced room, full of lavishly set tables facing a large stage.  The wait staff seemed to be doing their best to get us all courses served before the show started, trying to get us caught up with the rest of the diners.  So, in quick succession, we had all sorts of food whipped in and out from in front of us.  It was rather dizzying.  And when the lights dimmed for the show to start, we were definitely on the dessert portion of our meal, but were sad that we hadn’t truly finished, as we looked longingly at the empty tables around us being served popcorn.  Our table, still piled high with multiple courses of dinner dishes, had no room to accommodate such a foreign delicacy.  We had to appease ourselves in thinking that surely the popcorn must be stale.  It hardly seems possible that popcorn could withstand the humidity, but would have to be eaten while standing over the popping source for it not to be stale, given the scarcity of air-conditioning and the oppressiveness of the humidity.

Details of the show will be skipped, as it, as suspected, paled in comparison to the night before.  Singing, dancing, historical instruments, vignettes, lavish costumes.  It would have been more than lovely, had we been both less tired and uninitiated into the grandeur of drama on water with a cast of thousands (or six hundred) in an outside amphitheatre, with a mountain backdrop and stars overhead.  Oh, well.  On to the New World Hotel, where the air-conditioning proved to be mediocre, but there was a huge bah relief of Emperor Qin (who conquered all of the warring provinces to unite and establish the China and its first dynasty) overlooking a carp pool in the atrium of the hotel, and it was pretty darn impressive.

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