Terror In Wuhan!!

by Steve Reiss (Dalmdad Landscape Photography - www.dalmdad.com and https://www.facebook.com/Dalmdad.)

Part II of II (Click here for Part I)

***

April 1, 2012 – Wuhan, China.  Raymond and I were standing at the curb in front of a botanical gardens in search of a taxi.  However, few taxis seemed to patrol this area and none that did were empty.  The only available taxis were “black-market” taxis.  Black market taxis are unmarked vans that pull up to you, slide open their street-side door, and offer you a ride with a driver smile reminiscent of a child abductor waving a lollipop.  No taxi certifications, fare schedule meter, licenses, or guarantee of not getting kidnapped.  I refused to even consider taking this risk despite my growing frustration with our inability to get a real taxi.

We blew the only “real taxi” opportunity we had.  A taxi pulled up to the curb to drop off a young woman.  We ran over to the taxi, preparing to climb in the taxi once the young woman got out.  However, she was not getting out of the taxi; she was arguing with the driver.  I asked Raymond what they were arguing about.  He told me she was telling the driver that she forgot her wallet and had no money on her.  I asked Raymond how much was her fare.  In US dollars it was some ridiculously small amount of money (as are many things in China).  I suggested to Raymond that we pay the girl’s fare and drag her out of the taxi, so we can have it.  However, by the time Raymond realized I was serious and tried to decide whether to do it, the taxi took off. Raymond said the taxi was taking the young woman to somewhere she could hook up with friends that could pay her fare. 

We blew it.

***

Our only remaining option was taking a bus.  Just the line for getting on a bus was about three buses long (this forming a line was  strange because as shown below from earlier this day, Chinese prefer rushing the bus, rather than waiting in line).  Oh, and Raymond was not sure which bus to take.  We agreed to take any bus and when the bus traveled into a more 'taxi friendly' area, we would get off the bus and transfer to a taxi. 

We did have some luck.  Buses were frequent and took such huge numbers of people at a time, the wait was not as long as we might have guessed.  We managed to just not make it on the previous bus.  Therefore, we would be one of the first riders on the next bus and with this timing we would be lucky or unlucky enough to get choice seats.  We took the seats just across the aisle from the bus’ back doors.  I had the window seat and Raymond had the aisle.

At this first stop, the bus loaded far beyond capacity  and then after pulling away it stopped at a few more touristy areas around the lake, picking up even more and more people, that calmly and quietly squeezed closer and closer together, completely filling in the aisle until the next stop came and even more people got on despite probably far exceeding the capacity of the bus.  It’s impossible to describe just how filled the bus got and how many Wuhan-locals were staring (often blankly) towards, but not directly at, the one non-Chinese person around…me.

Scenes From a Wuhan Bus Stop
The Chinese do not usually form lines - its first come, first on.

***

By now, it was starting to get dark out, making it hard to judge where we were or whether empty taxis were around.  Yeah, I was getting worried.  But the worst was still to come.

***

Raymond looked straight at me and said, “Let’s get off at the next stop.”

I said, “How are we going to get off?”  The bus was completely over-packed similar to the old skits where dozens of clowns stuffed into a VW Bug or Mini Cooper pop out.  The entire aisle between us and the rear door was filed three or four wide with people and  there were even people standing on the steps leading from the aisle down to the rear door.

Raymond’s words of wisdom and experience to me were “just push your way out; keep pushing.”

My response was “you’re crazy.”  But I saw Raymond grabbing his bag and getting ready to “race for” the rear door.

As Raymond and I were not chained together like a chain gang, there was a possibility of Raymond getting off this bus without me.  Just the thought of this possibility ratcheted up my anxiety level to about 8/10.  Raymond, not having my size liabilities would be easier able to squeeze his way through the highly compressed crowd.  Raymond did not need to make a path, he could just move among the tiny spaces in between the riders. Me, I would have to bulldoze my large frame across the aisle, making my own path down the steps. while moving against the rush of people trying to get on the bus at the rear door (allowed or tolerated in China).

The bus stopped, but for whatever reason the driver did not open the rear doors. Raymond was already half way into the crowded aisle and as I moved to follow him, people already wedged passed me and took our seats, so if we did not get off here, we would be joining the standers.

There was some screaming in Mandarin as Raymond told the driver to open the rear doors.

The rear doors opened.

At that moment, I just followed Raymond and his directions and pushed my way towards the open door.  Creating my own path as pushing through the densely-packed crowd while guarding my pockets, my backpack and my passport, I just kept pushing.  Each step for me was small and the rear door did not seem to get any closer.  Anxiety level: 9/10.

If this game of “follow the leader” were playing out in NYC, I am sure I would have been cursed out, at least, and punched in the face, at most.  Pushing your way off a Chinese bus completely disregards the American concept of “personal space” and “keep your hands to yourself.”  I just followed Raymond’s instructions and kept pushing my way towards the door, disregarding who or what I was rubbing against.  Such vigorous person-to-person contact is accepted as a fact of life in crowded China. 

Raymond made it off.  Anxiety level: 10/10.  I had no idea how long that door would remain open and whether I would be able to push enough people out of my way to get through it before it closed.  Shoving yet even more aggressively against the crowd and down the steps, I was finally squirted out of the rear door, luckily not losing my balance on the last step and falling face down or face up in the street.

*** 

We had no clue where in Wuhan we were and it was now late dusk.  Anxiety level back to a reasonable 7/10.  At least I made it off the bus.

***

We now managed to catch a taxi; a legal taxi.  I tossed my backpack in the empty backseat and then crawled in after it, like I had done many times on this trip, while Raymond took the passenger seat and spoke with the driver.

My first impression was the driver was going to kick us out of the taxi.  From my sense of listening to the tone of the Mandarin conversation between Raymond and the driver and the driver’s wildly waving hands, either the driver did not know where we wanted to go or he just did not want to take us.  We still had not pulled away from the curb.

The driver finally pulled away from the curb while arguing with his dispatcher over the radio about where we were going.  I still figured there was a chance we would get thrown out of the taxi, but Raymond told me the driver figured out where we were going.  However, since it was rush hour and we were so far out of way, it would take about an hour.  I didn’t care.  The ride would at least allow me to calm down.  I could sit back here and relax despite the fact that the driver was screaming and hand waving at Raymond the whole trip.  On went the ear buds and on went the Beth Hart.  Beth’s voice and especially her hard-rocking Live at the Paradiso spent plenty of time in my head on this trip.  

Oh, as for the driver's screaming and hand waving, I would later find out that the driver was merely proud of Wuhan and pointing out its sites and major visitors to Raymond.

Touring Wuhan!!

by Steve Reiss (Dalmdad Landscape Photography - http://www.dalmdad.com/ and https://www.facebook.com/Dalmdad.)

Part I of II

April 1, 2012 – Wuhan, China. I am willing to go on the record and admit to the world that I was terrified.  Yeah, Steve Reiss, “confident man of the world”; who was raised on the "rough" tree-lined, hop-scotch ready streets of NYC and experienced with the subways of London, Paris, NYC, Hong Kong, and Taipei.  However, none of those experiences prepared me for those few minutes of terror.

But I am getting ahead of myself. 

***

The first thing Raymond and I did when we got out of the cab at East Lake was eat some barbequed teriyaki mountain lamb, from the Xinjiang province of western China.  In Xinjiang province, the Uyghurs are the largest ethnic group.  Some may recall that back in 2002 there was a controversy as to what to do with Uyghurs kept at Guantanamo Bay.   

The sign below is written both in Mandarin and Uyghur.  BTW, each lamb skewer cost about US$0.31.

Raymond orders for us...

 

Top Line - In Uyghur

Other Lines - Mandarin

   

Made fresh on the spot.

Inexpensive Snack!

After the lamb...we took pictures of the lake.

Small boats on the largest urban lake in China.

 And we people watched....

 




It was a holiday generally equivalent to a Cherry Blossom Festival

Now, at about 4 PM, it was time leave East Lake to go meet Sandy and her husband for dinner at one of Wuhan’s 5-star hotels (where I created massive confusion by asking for ice).

Can that be as terrifying as I'm hinting?  


You will soon find out...

(Again, thanks to Lisa for help with the translations)

Over a Billion People but No One Around to do a Good Translation?

by Steve Reiss (Dalmdad Landscape Photography - www.dalmdad.com and https://www.facebook.com/Dalmdad.)

What Does This Mean?
Trash Can-Wuhan, China

April 1, 2012: Wuhan, China.  At East Lake, Wuhan, I pointed out to Raymond this strange sign on a trash can.  He did an instant machine translation on his iPad and said to me, "that's exactly what the Mandarin translates to."  The machine translation was not very helpful; and neither of us understood the point the sign on the trash can was trying to make.

And that is typically the problem.

Clearly, the person or machine that made the translation made a direct word-by-word translation from Mandarin to English.  However, the translator most probably did not understand or take into account that regardless of the language, words and phrases have different meanings in different contexts and when a translator or machine simply goes word-by-word to make its translation from one language to another, the translator does not know which among many meanings for a word or group of words may have the best fit.  Accordingly, without review by a native English speaker fluent in Mandarin, translations are sometimes senseless, and do not say what was really intended.  Wikipedia's article on Chinglish describes how this happens in excellent detail.  The Chinglish article also describes how and why Mandarin to English translations may produce such senseless phrases as: "fried enema"; "slip carefully; to take notice of safe": "the slippery are very crafty".


Raymond tells me the lack of understanding of the meanings of English idioms and expressions (especially in informal oral communications) by my Mandarin-mainly speaking co-workers is why no one in China or Taiwan get my jokes.  The jokes just go right over my co-workers heads and leave painfully blank expressions on them and me. 

***

PS - Raymond is an American of Cantonese background that I work with.  He took me around Wuhan and did most of the speaking.  He will be frequently mentioned in posts from the Wuhan-trip series.

PPS - This sign was not an April Fool's Joke.

PPPS - When I got back to our office in the US, I asked Lisa what she understood this sign to mean.  Lisa is far more experienced in the nuances of Mandarin/English than an iPad.  She said the Mandarin sign is a "caution board" having no relationship to the trash can.  

Rather, the "I" refers to the  plants and grass planted at the base of the trash can and partially seen in the lower right corner of the picture.  "Immature" means the plants were recently planted and have not grown to adulthood (i.e., are not mature).  The second line, "please do not pull and break off" means don't pull out the young sprouting seedlings because they will not leave any roots behind to continue growing.

So, Raymond, his IPad, and I, totally misunderstood the meaning of the sign.

My First Dinner in Asia

by Steve Reiss (Dalmdad Landscape Photography - www.dalmdad.com and https://www.facebook.com/Dalmdad.)

March, 21, 2012 - Taipei, Taiwan.  Last night I skipped any formal dinner.  Last night was our first (arrival) day in Taipei/Asia and even after the 12+ hours of traveling, I gave 3 or 4 training presentations.  In other words, by dinner time, I was exhausted and decided to go to bed early.  My dinner last night was some Hershey’s chocolate that I had brought as a gift for my colleagues in China (I had plenty more to go around) and a Coke that I bought at the 7-11, next door to the hotel.  This Taiwanese 7-11, instead of smelling from over-grilled, burnt hot dogs, smelled more from hard-boiled eggs simmering in a big black kettle and rice balls sitting in bamboo steamers.

Tonight, Sara, my assistant and translator on this trip, had plans with her Taiwanese relatives and no one else was around, so I decided to eat out on my own.  This was after ruling out just eating more Hershey's.  I took the elevator down from my room to the second floor and I tried the Japanese/sushi house located in the hotel.  Despite the international relations and cultural conflicts between China/Taiwan and Japan, the Chinese and Taiwanese sure love Japanese food (even in the US).

Picture menus are extremely common in Asia.  This practice runs counter to what Gordon Ramsey once said on Kitchen Nightmares, “if I see a picture menu I usually run from the place.”  But…whatever.  Gordon is not always consistent.

My table had a view overlooking the street and the entrance to the Xinpu Metro station.  My waitress spoke no English, but gave me an English menu.  Westerners are typically automatically given knives and forks.  It is assumed we do not know how to use chop sticks.  However, if you go as far as you can with the chopsticks, your Asian dinner partners will be impressed.  My only problem when using chopsticks is eating fine noodles, partially due to the fact that while Western etiquette frowns upon raising your bowl all the way up to your mouth is is entirely proper under Chinese etiquette.  As for the English menus, the English here was not all the helpful.  Here, each individual menu item was not described in English.  Rather, the menu used English for generalities, such as “Eight course dinner for one…Price….” or "fish", "meat", "noodles".

Anyway, I checked my wallet for how many New Taiwan Dollars I had and picked something and just went with it.  After all, I wanted to be a little daring on this trip.

The first course gave the meal a strong and colorful start.  A light vegetable salad with a rice wine vinegar/palm sugar dressing.  As a big fan of rice wine vinegar (Joanie and I use a lot of it in our Thai Cucumber Salad recipe and mixed with some sesame chili oil), and despite the asparagus, I gave this course a 9 and raised my expectations for the overall meal.

First Course: Rating: 9

Unfortunately, the second course was terrible, if not absolutely gross.  From the first photo it looks like some kind of maki sushi.  However, as shown in the second photo, the green was not nori (seaweed), it was some kind of spinach base supporting the "whatever" was on top.  As I don’t like spinach and I did not at all like the "whatever" was on top of the spinach, I gave this course a big-fat 0 and did not finish it.  By now, my non-English speaking waitress was getting a kick out of me taking apart and photographing each course.

Second Course: Rating 0

The third course was definitely a 10 and the highlight of the meal.  I don’t know what it was, but it had the taste of lightly-browned mashed potatoes.  The sauce was similar to the teryaki normally placed over unagi (eel), but not as thick (e.g., more watery).  The taste of potato, something as American as they come and one of my favorites, made me smile. Whatever this was, even if tofu, I did not care; it tasted like potato.

Third Course: Rating 10

The fourth course, I give an 8.  This was the first of many whole fishes that I would be given to eat over the next two weeks.  Whole fish was not very popular in the Reiss house, either growing up or now, but I am not against ordering whole sea bass or rainbow trout on rare occasions.  The fish was tender, mild/medium flavor and minimal loose bones, though it did have that big evil eye thing going on.  No one that I showed the picture to over the next 2 weeks knew the English name for this fish.

Fourth Course: Rating 8

The fifth course was a 5.  The light miso broth and presentation of the carved pattern in the small broccoli were highlights.  The HARD carrot, and mushy tofu dragged the course’s rating down.

Fifth Course: Rating 5

The sixth course earned a 5.  Two nigiri sushi pieces and one maki type sushi.  Whatever it was in the maki, it was pretty gross.  The sushi, itself was average.

Sixth Course: Rating 5

The dessert course was a 10. Watermelon, papaya, and something tasting like a honeydew.

Sixth Course: Rating 10

The final average score for the dinner was a 6.2 raw score.  I will boost that .5 for the excitement of not knowing what to expect next, having little clue what you were eating, and superior service usually given to foreigners.  Total rating for dinner: 6.9.

Friendly Chinese International Relations

by Steve Reiss (Dalmdad Landscape Photography - www.dalmdad.com and https://www.facebook.com/Dalmdad.)

April 2, 2012: Rural Central Mainland China.  Coach, on the bullet train, is a "three-aisle-two" seating arrangement. Raymond and I had aisle seats across from each other.  We did not talk much on the train because I was using the spare travel time to catch up on listening to music and reading.  I was reading Poor Boy, the 'definitive' biography of Keith Moon, drummer for the Who (review in 20 words or less: interesting, but repetitive; how many times can you read about Moon flooding hotels and mixing and matching drugs).

Views of Rural Central China From the Bullet Train

A young man and woman had the window and middle seats next to my aisle seat.  When I was 100 lbs heavier, I would have probably felt self-conscious about my bulk annoying the man in the middle seat.  It would have especially made me feel bad because I was probably the first American this couple ever came into direct contact with and I didn’t want to be known as the fat American that made their bullet train ride miserable.  But, I worry about that much less now.

When flying and I have an aisle seat and my middle or window seat mates want to get up, I use that time to get up myself and walk around to keep the blood flowing and check out what is going on.  OK, yes, I mean people watch...OK, yes, I mean lady watch...

People Watching on the Bullet Train

I then stand around my seat until they return.  This usually makes the aisle and seat folks happy because they do not have to climb over me or ask me to stand again.

I must have made a good impression on the man sitting next to me.  As he and his girlfriend went to get some food from the cafeteria car, he asked me if I wanted anything to eat.  He did not speak any English but made what I now call the "international sign" of “are you hungry?”;  miming holding a dish up to his mouth and eating from the dish.  I tried to say no thank you" (búyào xièxiè)" in Mandarin.  I don't know whether he understood anything other than my thankful smile. 

I was very impressed with this man’s random act of international friendship.  As a matter of fact, despite my usual anti-social polarity, on this Asia trip I was a magnet attracting random acts of international friendship.  

***

The first act of international friendship was at the Wuhan Hu Bu Xiang night market where a food vendor was singing at me in Mandarin.  I smiled and played along by pleasantly giving him a ‘Nǐ Hǎo’ ('hello'), smile, and friendly wave as I tried to evacuate myself from the situation.

Entrance to Wuhan Hu Bu Xiang night market

The second act of international friendship was the next day at the “market” of the Yellow Crane Temple.  It is a market in which every shop has generally the same souvenirs.  Here, some random middle-aged man, as he walked passed me, rubbed my stomach, and said something in Mandarin that I will never know since Raymond wasn’t around to hear and translate for me.  The man was smiling so I presume he was thinking I would bring him Buddha-like good luck.  I gave him a ‘Nǐ Hǎo’ and a wave, not knowing whether I was being insulted or honored. 

 Yellow Crane Tower Market

Then, finally, there was the final incident on the bullet train.

Beware of Tourguides Offering Tea

by Steve Reiss (Dalmdad Landscape Photography - www.dalmdad.com and https://www.facebook.com/Dalmdad.)

March 24, 2012- Old Taipei, Taiwan. For those who have not been to China or Taiwan, beware of any tour including a "Tea Tasting" or "Traditional Tea" or whatever the particular tour company may call it.

On my 2006 trip to China, when I knew no better, the idea at least sounded interesting, eventhough I am not a fan of tea in any of its forms (iced, hot, boba).  I still gave it a try since it was only a small part of the overall tour.

Free boba at the Taiwan office on Friday afternoons

At these tea tastings, you usually sit at a large table with  other English-speaking tourists and the woman leading the tea drinking speaks English, so you have an idea of what is going on.  However, towards the end of the tasting, the woman leading the tasting subtly changes tone and focus and you suddenly realize this whole thing is just an attempt to get large numbers of wealthy tourists in a spot where they would buy tea, small teapots, and other tea accessories.  

Then, you are taken into a larger “souvenir showroom”, where things like jade, fans, beads, and other "locally made" items are sold. The saleswomen chase you around the showroom with their cheap plastic calculators.  Anytime you even glance at something, the saleswomen  instantly converts its price to US dollars and show you the calculator display.

On my 2006 trip, the tea tasting was done at an official "PRC- authorized" jade and tea shop in Shenzhen, I picked up a traditional green jade bangle bracelet for Joanie and two red jade Pixiu (good luck mythological creatures) that we keep on top of the living room TV. 

I have an "official" red-star stamped certificate of authenticity from the store, but given how the red jade color has seemed to fade over the years, there is a question as to whether it is real jade despite the official government certification.

 PRC-Authenticated Red Jade Pixiu

On this trip, I knew I was going to have another tea tasting; though this tasting was in the area of Old Taipei City.

Gate to Old Taipei

Pagoda With Taipei 101 in Center Background

 Guard at Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall

The tasting would be a short part of my half-day tour, so I figured I could tolerate it.

At least I am smiling

Tea Time 2012

Also, on this trip, I was not planning on going crazy with the gift buying like I had done on my first trip.  However, something did catch my eye, some small jade dogs.  Anyone who knows us, knows we are dog people.

I could barely glance at the jade dogs before a lady with her calculator was nearby.  Isn’t this one of the reasons Circuit City went out of business?  Anyway, I had my own calculator figure out the US dollars before she came by and I was unimpressed with the price ($NTD 6000= US $201).  I made a counteroffer but it was not accepted.  So, I walked away, went up the stairs to the street and walked around in the light drizzle until the van driver/tour guide got back to us.