China v.s. Bahrian: Preparations

So, I am going to Bahrain in four months.  I have completed my physical, signed my contract, and got all my paperwork in order. 

I have to say, I am still pretty chill about the whole thing...as long as I don't think about it too much.  If I dig beneath the layers, I start to feel these little bursts of anxiety.  It's kind of like when you wiggle a sore tooth; you push it and prod it, until you get that sharp pain, and then you stop and leave it alone.  That is what I do when I think of Bahrain; if I start thinking about it too much, I feel that anxiety start to bubble up, and immediately start thinking about something else--burying those anxiety causing thoughts under layers of much more pleasant thoughts such as "what's for lunch?" Or I throw  myself into some kind of project, like a blog post or deciding all the furniture in my room needs to be moved around.   So basically I go about my life not really thinking about Bahrain, beyond getting the things done I to in order to leave.   So I am not really sure how I feel about it (as many have been asking where my head is at concerning my upcoming departure).

This is in stark contrast to my pre-China emotions.  From the moment I learned that I was going to China--because I did not find out I had the job until mid-May (and me without my passport...)--it was on my mind 24/7.  China was literally on my mind from the moment I woke up in the morning til I went to sleep at night; sleep was my only respite--which was often interrupted and fitful.  I would find myself standing in front of my mirror, toothbrush half hanging out of my mouth; I have no idea how long I'd been standing there staring at myself (long enough for the line of toothpaste drool to dry a little) just thinking about all the "what ifs" concerning China. "How am I going to teach ESL? My background is in Social Studies."  "Where I am going to live?"  "How am I supposed to get around?" "Where will I live?" "Should I learn Chinese? Maybe I can audit a course over the summer?" "What if this is just some elaborate scam? Is there a real-life Liam Neesson and can I get his number?"  I would find myself immobile in the middle of tasks (pouring milk, getting something out of the fridge, taking someones order at work), staring into space, thinking about China.

Of course part of my lack of anxiety might be that this will not be my first rodeo (finally--it seems like my life has been full of firsts the last couple of years). I may not have been to Bahrain (or anywhere in the region) before, but I have traveled and lived abroad before.  I know that I don't really know what its going to be like, so what-ifs are sort of useless.  I also know that its not going to be terrible, or wonderful; it will just be life--just like life anywhere else.

I think another contributing factor in my emotional tranquility about this move is I that I have known about it since January.  In the case of China, I had emailed my former professor about employment, but other than a brief email indicating excitement over my interest in the job, I did not get the good news (that I was hired) until the day after graduation in May.  In the case of Bahrain, I had been looking for a position for eight months and planned for the job fair months in advance.  While I had not given much thought to Bahrain in particular, I had done some research on the country.  I knew the countries represented at this fair, and I knew that I would be applying for a social studies position, and I knew that if I was offered a job, it would begin in the following September at one of those per-researched countries.  Additionally, thanks to the exhaustive data available on the Search Associates website, I also knew the relative salary and benefits of the schools attending the fair.

Perhaps a third reason for my relative calmness on Bahrain is how "legitimate" finding this particular job was. I mean, I have no complaints about how I got to China (especially since I had no problems).  I owe a great deal to my professor for not only the invite, but arranging my transportation, and getting me settled when I arrived.  However I had little communication with the school that was hiring me; I did not sign a contract until I had been in the country for two weeks--I went to China on the basis of an email.   My  job in Bahrain, however, was found through a company called Search Associates.  This company charges a membership fee, requires you to fill out a very detailed personal and professional background, educational background, a biography, explanation of your educational philosophy, and requires a minimum of five letters of recommendation.  If you are approved, you are allowed access to a data base of fully vetted schools (and they have access to your profile) looking for teachers in our field.  You are also invited to a job fair (held in locations all around the world) that brings recruiters and teachers together for interviews.   I mean China turned out just fine (awesome, actually) but if it hadn't, I am pretty sure people would be saying, "Well, what did you expect, Rach, you went on the basis of a few emails with a virtual stranger!"  There is something reassuring (if more time-consuming and expensive) about going through a company.

I think the reason why I have not been delving too deeply into my feelings on Bahrain is not only because of the anxiety that actually exists about my trip, but (and I know this sounds insane) because I am afraid of being afraid of this move.  And I desperately don't want to be afraid (and constantly thinking about) my experience in Bahrain the way I was about China.  The level of anxiety I had about China was all consuming, and since I have months to go still on leaving for Bahrain, I do not want to have that same ever-present anxiety eating at me for all that time. 

Since thinking about why I am not thinking about Bahrain has in fact, got me thinking about Bahrain, I have noticed some things that are encouraging.  I've felt these little bursts, that sometimes feel like anxiety, but I think are actually excitement.  The kind of excitement you get before doing something crazy, like roller coasters or bungee jumping.  I mean, you are excited, but also nervous, and sometimes it is hard to tell the difference.  But I think this is excitement; I am leaving the familiar and foraying into the unfamiliar.  There will be new things to explore.  I will be working full time in what I have been trained to do. There are new challenges awaiting me; new job, new country, new apartment, new culture, (new Rachel? Probably unavoidable).  It's a lot to be anxious about, but it's also a lot to be pretty stoked about; I am not sure which one I am (probably a healthy mix of both) but I am going to see how much longer I can get away with "I'll think about it tomorrow...after all, tomorrow is another day.*"


Rachel Elizabeth


*Margaret Mitchell, Gone With the Wind,

Fixing Reverse Culture Shock One Expat at a Time

So this is pretty much a shout-out post.   Recently, I was contacted by Amanda, the author of a travel blog I'm Not a Ballerina.   This blog contains the many and varied travel experiences had by Amanda (and others!), along with her thoughts on the importance of travel.  It is a great site for those in the midst of travel, about to travel, or still dreaming of the days when you will travel.

In addition to her own travel blog, she has a fantastic new site called Fix Reverse Culture Shock dedicated to being a resource for those of us who have traveled abroad and have found ourselves at a bit of a loss upon reentry into our country.  I can only say that I wish I had a resource like this one when I came back to the States. I am not sure there is any way you can fully prepare yourself for reverse culture shock before you come home, but it is darn sure wonderful to hear that you are not the only person struggling to re-acclimate to your homeland. I would recommend anyone thinking about coming back home to spend some time on this website...and then revisit it at different points in your re-acculturation process.

This brings me to how exactly I came across Amanda's websites. She left a wonderfully complimentary comment on one of my previous posts, How to Talk to the Repatriated, and followed up said comment with an email.  In this email she asked if I would be willing to do a post/interview for her new website-all about reverse culture shock.  After the the thoughts "omg, omg, omg" zipped through my head and I danced around my room a few dozen times, I managed to contain my excitement long enough to send a reply email, which basically went like this: "OMG I WOULD LOVE TO! THANKYOUSOMUCH!!"  Or something to that effect.  (I think I managed to be slightly more professional in my email)

That interview can be found here!  Thank you again, Amanda, for making my week and for inviting me to contribute to a wonderful  (and vital) cause.

How to Talk to the Repatriated

I have read several blog posts over the past year about living abroad, and how these experiences largely benefit your live in so many ways.  I recently read a post about why studying/living abroad ruins lives.  Of course, it was entirely satire, poking fun at the excuses people give for why they choose not to live/work/study in another country.  I recommend you read it--if you've lived abroad, you will find it funny.  If you are on the fence about making the decision to study abroad, it might make you realize that some of your excuses against the experience are probably invalid (or at least worth rethinking). However, this article did get me thinking about some of the quirks that people do come home with after spending significant time abroad.  Because we do not come home the same people we were when we left (that would be impossible) and talking to us (especially shortly after we arrive home) can be a bit of a minefield.  So here is some advice for reestablishing contact with someone who has spent significant time abroad.  Or, if you are one of those recently returned expats, how to become aware of your behavior upon reentry--if only I'd written this for myself months ago ;)

1.  Try to be patient with us. 

We seem to have an overpowering need to talk about our travels.  I mean, literally every sentence in a conversation we are in begins with, "Well, while I was in Country X...."  This is does not happen for a few days or even a few weeks.  It takes months.  Months until we stop automatically comparing everything to what happened while we were abroad.  It is even worse if we do not live near anyone who shared that experience with us; we must share all these details.  A big part of the reason I have this blog is solely to give me an outlet to talk about China.  What this means for you (especially if you live/work with us) is that you are going to hear a lot about things you might not always be in the mood to listen to. We appreciate your attentive listening while we try to process some pretty overwhelming reverse culture shock...for months.

2.  Be specific in the questions you ask your recently repatriated comrade.

I find myself extremely irritated with the phrase, "So, how was China?"  So, how was China?!  I don't know, pal, can you summarize the last two years of your life?  Because I sure can't.  This means that my answer usually goes something like this: "It was cool."  Which leaves my listener obviously wanting to know more, but both of us just kind of standing there awkwardly.

So, here is my advice.  There is something specific you want to know about.  Everyone I have talked to has wanted to know about a certain aspect of China--the economy, the food, toilets, communism, the deep social and cultural differences in the values on education, etc.  For some reason they feel like "so how was China?" needs to be their opening conversational volley.  Trust me when I say this is unnecessary--just launch right into the topic you are interested in--ask me, "hey Rachel, so what was your favorite food in China?" or "how does the pollution compare to what CNN is reporting?"  If you honestly don't know what you want to know about China, but want to (or feel obligated to) talk to me about it anyway, pick a topic and lead with that one.  For example, "Rachel, where did you live?"  This will launch me into an over-detailed description of my apartment and my campus and likely spawn new questions and the dialogue continues.  And I don't feel like I have to wrap up two years of my life in one to three really lame adjectives.  I cannot tell you how much I appreciate people who just start asking me questions.  I also cannot really explain or justify the rage I feel when I hear, "so, how was China?"

3.  Understand what you don't understand.

Look, as an American, you are no different than 85% of the people living in the other countries in the world.  What does this mean? It means that you don't (unless you are part of that 15%) have a clue what's happening in the rest of the world. You have no reason to--it's not part of your everyday.  It's hard enough keeping up with what's happening in America (not that you are likely on top of that either, if we're being totally honest with ourselves).  I am no different, really--except now I've had this experience in another country.  Now I am not just familiar with America, but also China and Chinese culture. And now I get this urge to slap people when they make ignorant or offensive statements/questions about China.  You should know I also had the urge to slap people in China when they made equally ignorant/offensive comments/questions about America.  Which happened frequently.

We understand the reason you are making these statements or asking these questions is because you don't know or understand, and you are trying to gain that knowledge so you can understand.  My advice here is just to be careful how you phrase things.  So instead of saying something like, "Omg, how did you stand it there, they say China is so dirty."  Say something like this, "So, is it really as polluted as they say it is?  How did you deal with that pollution?"  It answers your question about how I deal with the pollution (because it exists) and also acknowledges that the question you are asking might be based on faulty info (the pollution is not nearly as bad as it is stated on CNN, unless you are in Beijing on a particularly bad day).  Or another example, "Hey, Rachel, you miss eating cat everyday?"  I never ate cat.  I can't remember ever even having the option to eat cat (I can't say the same for dog).  The truth is, yeah, people in other countries eat things that we may or may not consider to be food.  We eat some stuff that other countries find repulsive--ask other countries what they think of our breakfast cereal or our cheese or the pervasiveness of sugar.  But instead of being offensive, and showing off how much you don't know about another country, instead ask, "Hey Rachel, what was the craziest thing you ate?" (The answer to that would be scorpion).

4.  Try to take what we say about our "home away from home" with a grain of salt.

I am not kidding about the length of time someone is stuck in reverse culture shock.  It is literally months.  And every once and a while we relapse.  Depending on which way our internal pendulum is falling, we may be sweetly nostalgic about the country we lived in; we are talking about how much we loved it and all the things we miss.  We might be on the opposite end of the spectrum, talking about how frustrated we were, how much we hated everything, and how nothing could get us to go back.  You're gonna get whiplash listening to us ping pong between these extremes of love and hate. 

This can be particularly confusing if you are considering going to this country yourself.  Do not be discouraged when we rant, and do not be swayed when we wax poetic.  Life there was pretty much like life anywhere, with it's ups and downs, it's highs and lows.   So if you are thinking about making a move, where we lived was not as awesome as we proclaimed it to be nor as terrible as we bitched about.  My advice will always be to live/work abroad for a while; it's just a good experience.  You will be a better person.  You will enjoy it, and you will not regret it.  But you gotta do what's right for you, and go where you think is best, when you think it's right--for you.

5.  Try to avoid being around a group (four or more) of people who have lived abroad. 

You might think, hey, I know all these people who have been abroad....wouldn't it be great if I got them all together?  Maybe you are playing matchmaker, maybe you are just thinking of the crazy conversations that might happen, maybe you just want to hang out with all of us at once.  Let me tell you why this is a bad idea.

People who have been abroad are obnoxious when they are all together.  It's like somehow, it turns into a competition of who had the best/worst/most extreme/saddest/most difficult/frustrating/WHATEVER experience while they had while abroad.  It doesn't start out that way.  It usually just starts with one person sharing an experience.  Then the someone else needs to share a comparable experience.  Then someone else needs to build on that.  I can't really explain it, but I hate it and it seems to happen whenever you get groups of us together.  Some of the conversation at the international job fair I went to proved to be some of the most irritating of my life; I have never hated myself more than when I was caught up in this competition of experiences.   Personally, I just try my best to avoid these kinds of conversations altogether, but it took me a while to learn (and it sometimes still happens).  I also recommend you avoid large groups of expats when you get back--should you also be living abroad or thinking about living abroad--so you can avoid getting sucked into these kinds of conversations.

If you find  yourself surrounded by a flock of repatriates, try to forgive the conversational sinkhole we will find ourselves in.  Or even better, try and redirect our conversation to other topics.


This advice is based solely on my own personal experiences having come home, and having driven friends and family nuts during my everlasting re-acculturation period.

Hot Pot: Fon-Don't

So, China is enormous and consists of some 56 ethnic groups.  This means that the diversity of food is astronomic. Even if many of the ingredients stay the same, the flavor of different regional dishes changes dramatically.  For example, an eggplant dish in Hangzhou that was one of our staple dishes--when we went to Hunan province we ordered the "same" dish, but the taste was totally different (it was even more amazing!).

The same is true for a style of food called hot pot.  Many regions in China eat and enjoy hot pot, and many different regions have their own distinct style of hot pot.  However, hot pot seems to be largely associated with the western parts of China.

So what exactly is hot pot ? Well, it's sort of like fondue.  Except instead of tossing items into melted cheese or hot oil, you are using boiling water.  The first thing you do when you sit down at your hot pot table (usually round with a big hole in the center) is choose the kind of water you'd like to boil all your food in.  This consists of selecting the kinds of spices or flavors you want your food to absorb.  Now, you are not necessarily limited to only one, as they are able to place a divider in the middle of the giant bowl.  We usually opted for one side being super super (Sichuan) spicy.  The other half was much milder.  As soon as you choose the flavors for your pot, the waiters bring out this giant metal bowl and place it in the recessed pocket in the middle of your table.  They then reach down under the table and turn on a gas heater than begins to heat up all that water.

Hot Pot!  Look at all that food. 

The next item on the to-do list is to then choose what exactly you want to add to that boiling pot of water. Depending on the quality and type of hot pot you are at, the possibilities are endless.  You can choose from an array of veggies: several kinds of mushrooms, cabbage, bak choy, spinach, sliced lotus pods, bamboo, potatoes (to name only a few).  You can choose from a variety of meat (either thinly sliced or ground up in little balls): fish, pork, beef, turtle, bull frog.  Or lots of kinds of sea food: squid, shrimp, oysters, clams, mussels, scallops, etc.  Or other stuff like duck blood, tofu, quail eggs, or calf brains.  There's even more types of food that you can order that I am not mentioning, but I am just listing the ingredients I have personally had while eating at hot pot.

I love the meat mountain on the top. 

Once they begin to bring out the foods that you have ordered, you start chucking items into the boiling water.  We usually placed the items that took the longest to cook in first.  You toss stuff in until the water starts to get too high and then you wait about five to seven minutes.  During this wait, you meander up to a bar that has a gazillion different kinds of sauces arrayed along it.  You throw a few different kinds of sauces into the same container (like peanut sauce with garlic sauce and toss in a few chopped green onions--yum yum) and mix it all up.

To the far left is that sauce I was talking about, meat mountain in the middle, and me slow torturing a shrimp before I ruthlessly eat him. 

You take this sauce back to your table--where most of your food should be finished percolating.  You then dip your chopsticks into the pot, fish out some food, and chow down.  As you consume food, you gradually add more of the uncooked food to the water until you have exhausted your supply of food.  At this point you can either wrap up your meal, or call your waitress back over and order more.

Hot pot in Beijing to the left and center.  The right is Olivia (also torturing shrimps) at an individual hot pot.  Instead of having a huge pot in the center, we each have little Sterno heated pots with whatever flavor we want, and then we share the ingredients. 

Personally, I am not a fan of hot pot.  It is far to much hassle, especially when you are very hungry.  I have also made myself sick on it before, as (depending on the quality of the location) the quality of the food is not always that great (and one time I just ate waaaaaay too many quail eggs). Additionally, if you don't wait for some of the meats to cook all the way through, you can make yourself sick.  However, it is one of Dave's favorite foods in China, so we went several times during our stay in China, and we took everyone who visited us to hot pot--it is an interesting culinary experience for foreigners and one we did not let our loved ones avoid when they visited.

That being said, it's one of the few types of food I don't miss.

American Food: The Quest for Cheese

While I was in China, large amounts of time, energy, and thoughts were dedicated to the pursuit of American cuisine.  Often times this centered around a desire for cheese.  It's not that you couldn't find cheese in China, it's just that Chinese dishes didn't use it--ever.  So eventually you just started craving it, and other American foods. I would day dream about steak and potatoes the same way teenage boys daydream about playboy models.  Our fervor for some of the dishes from our homeland was damn near religious.

Of course, now that I have been back home for the past year, I would give an ovary just to have authentic Chinese food; while I was in China, I would have given anything for a casserole. A piece of beef that wasn't cut to chopstick sized bits.  Something made up of at least 95% cheese.  To meet these food needs, we would occasionally go to some pretty extreme lengths.  It is those lengths that I am going to divulge in this post.  Try not to judge.

Now, it's not that American food was particularly hard to find--if you were in the mood for American fast food, anyway.  McDonald's, Subways, Papa Johns, Starbucks, Burger Kings, Pizza Huts, and KFC's abound in the bigger cities in China (well, KFC is everywhere in China).  And despite having a more diverse menu--I had escargot at Pizza Hut once--they all pretty much taste the same as back home, and they offer all the classics to which you are accustomed.  One of our earliest American food quests was to the nearest McDonald's.  I'd been in China for about two months, and I had been adjusting to (and falling in love with) the cuisine just fine.  But I love French Fries (and all potatoes), and for a long time McDonald's were my favorite.   When one of the returning foreign teacher's discovered my long lost love, he volunteered to take Liv and I to the nearest location--about 10 minutes by bicycle!  It was a very happy reunion.

Continuing in the vein of fast food fixes, there is a Burger King at the train station in Hangzhou.  On more than one occasion we would volunteer to "assist" one of the other foreign teacher's who was heading out on travel to the train station.  You know, to help them carry their bags, defray the cost of the cab, keep them company...and tear into a whopper after we waved them goodbye.  I'd like to to think we would have helped our fellow teachers without the Burger King, but I don't think we would have been quite so happy about it.

Hangzhou had several fast food places that could somewhat satisfy our needs for American food.  However, we found ourselves missing other aspects of terrible-for-you American cuisine: junk food.  Sure, Chinese grocery stores have a LOT of different flavors of potato chips.  I mean, a lot--but they are not flavors most Americans are waiting in line to try (Hot and Sour Fish Soup Flavored, to name just one).  So, occasionally, we would tire of the limited selection in the imported food section at our local grocery store and we would make the 40 minute high-speed train trek into Shanghai.  For the sole purpose of buying junk food.  Shanghai also boasted a Krispy Kreme (Liv's favorite), a Dunkin Donuts (my favorite), and a Hershey's store (the world's favorite); we would make trips into Shanghai for no other reason than to gorge on fresh glazed doughnuts and ice coffee and load our backpacks up with chocolate, chips, and other snacks we could not find in Hangzhou.  This would include ingredients to make cookies, as the brown sugar found in our local grocery store did weird things to our cookies--we needed to get some imported brown sugar.

Our first New Year's in China found four of us in the city of Nanjing for about 36 hours.  Dave had asked  us to join him in presenting a lesson to a group of students at a vocational school as part of his work for the state department.  For dinner that night, we'd decided to check out what our hotel (that's right, hotel, not hostel--thank you state department) had to offer.  On the 28th floor of the building was an Irish Pub and Restaurant, and we thought: why not?  Some of us got pizza, some of us got quesadillas, and a few of us (the lucky) ordered the burger. Well, it turns out Danny's has the best freaking cheese burger any of us had ever eaten.  After returning to Hangzhou, the four of us could talk about nothing except for the phenomenal nature of this burger.  I am not sure what, exactly, about this burger made it so great--maybe it was the flavor in the meat, the onion-tomato ration,  or the fact that it had a fried egg on it--but it was (and still is) the single greatest cheese burger I have ever eaten.

Well, a full year later found Liv and I looking at various cities as our last trip together in China before I returned to America on a semi-permanent basis.  Liv suggested Nanjing.  Not because we loved the city (which we did) or to see any of the historic stuff we missed on our first whirlwind tour (which we eventually did get to) but mostly just to go back to that pub and eat that burger again.  That's right guys, we traveled four hours by high speed train, paid about 70.00 USD for the tickets, and an overnight in a hostel...to eat a burger.  And just in case you were wondering?  It was just as great the second (and third--we went there twice on that trip!) time as it was the first.

Oh, you know, never mind all that historical stuff...

Cuz we had some burgers to eat. 

Challenge...strategy...victory. 

Back in Hangzhou, we eventually started to figure out what restaurants in town offered the best options for American cuisine at reasonable prices (after considerable trial and error).  We also learned what to avoid (some of them just cannot get the meat right--very different taste or very bland).  We would go every other week or so to a restaurant and get something somewhat American--cheese covered pasta, various grilled sandwiches, pizza.  Or we'd head to the one and only Mexican restaurant in the town.  Or we'd go hit up a hostel when we were feeling like an American style breakfast as they seem to have breakfast nailed at most of these places--eggs, bacon, toast.

We found ourselves craving dishes that our parents made, that try as we might, we were just unable to replicate in China.  However, we did try our hand at cooking a few times, with often times pleasant results.

Our group of foreign teacher's would always be on the lookout for new restaurants selling American style food; we'd report to one another when we stumbled upon a new spot, or an old spot with a new menu.  And we'd all mourn together when some of established restaurants would close or change location.  I guess you always miss what you can't have; that was true of American food while I was in China.  And it is certainly true of Chinese food now that I am back in the States.

Chengdu: Leshan Giant Buddha

Our trip to Chengdu was centered around seeing two things, the pandas and the Giant Buddha at Leshan.  We did many other awesome things in this city (visit a monastery and an authentic Tex-Mex restaurant), but those were our two main touristy objectives.

So why this Buddha?  Well, it's the largest (at 233 feet tall!) stone Buddha in the whole wide world.  It is carved into the side of a cliff along the coast of a convergence of not one, not two, but three rivers. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and seemed like a pretty cool thing to go see, if you were going to be in the region.  And hey, don'tcha know we were going to be in the area! If you want more specs on this Buddha, you can read about the history here.

Look at all those rivers!

Our hostel offered a tour to Leshan, but the lady working at the hostel told us it would be cheaper, just being the two of us, to simply take the public long-distance bus to Leshan, get on a city bus once we were in Leshan, and get to the site in that way.  We were a bit hesitant, but she made it sound easy, so that is what we did.

We found our way to the long distance bus depot just fine, and three hours later we found ourselves in the much smaller city of Leshan.  However, this is where our trip takes a turn for the sketch.  We got off that long-distance bus amid a cluster of cab drivers vying for our attention and our business.  We brushed them off with increasingly more desperate utterances of "bu yao" (don't want) and pushed our way to the bus stop.  There we waited a few minutes for the number 13 bus.  Now this bus looked, sounded, and operated like it had spent the last 30 years on rough, rough road.  This would not be the last sketch bus in a slightly sketchy town we would find ourselves on in the course of our travels in China, but it was the first.  I distinctly remember turning to Liv, telling her it was a pleasure getting to know her and expressing sorrow that we would not be able to further our burgeoning friendship.

This was the view from our bus.  In a land of billions, we were a little alarmed at how few people we were seeing. 

Despite pretty strong feelings of foreboding, we did not (obviously) meet with any unpleasantness.  We stayed on our bus for about 10 minutes, winding upwards through Leshan, which is built on a mountain (we were at a solid 45 degree angle pretty much the whole ride).  We saw the signs for the Leshan Giant Buddha (and had the help of some very nice fellow bus riders) got off the bus at the right stop and made our way into the park.

And Stairs. 

We were in luck!  Being off season (January in the mountains!), we were one of about seven people in the entire complex. The bus dropped us off in a deserted parking area and we walked over to the lady selling tickets into the park.  We bought our ticket and she directed us up a flight of stairs (it's always stairs).  The noise of the city faded away rapidly as we climbed these stairs. Along the staircase were small niches carved into the rock walls depicting either text or smaller stone figures.   When we reached the top, you walked a short distance over to the cliff-side and found yourself eye level (as in, the statues eyes) with the Giant Buddha.

Niches!

See, we are at Buddha's eye level.   Liv could probably fit in his ear. 

Along the side of this cliff is yet another staircase.  We climbed down said (slightly terrifying) staircase, stopping at intervals to take photos of this Giant Buddha from newly revealed perspectives.   We got to the bottom, so we were now eye level with his giant toes,  had a few more photo ops and then looped around and climbed up a much less steep (and less terrifying) staircase.  Once back at the top--though now we were on the other side of the giant Buddha, we were free to explore the remainder of the park.  It was a tad chilly--although still really green!--so we only wandered around for an hour or two, making our way towards the rear exit of the park.

Super scary stairs of death.  

And now his toes are our eye level.  He's got some big toes. 

We exited this park in the middle of nowhere.  We found ourselves on a mud road, with no one else around.  We could see a paved road in the distance that had a bit of traffic on it, and decided to make our way towards that.  By some miraculous stroke of luck (or urban planning--after all, this was probably the exit used by the droves of tourists that came to visit during peak tourist season) it just so happened a bus stop was right here.  And the bus that came by that stop?  The number 13 bus. So we hopped on, rode it to the end of the line, and got back on the long distance bus to Chengdu feeling like conquering world adventurers.

And that is where we ended our tour of the park.  We walked probably a half mile til we found the road and got back to pseudo-civilization. 

I'll leave you with this, possibly the best sign in the entire world.  It's hung outside the public restrooms in the park. 

Tae Gui Le!!

Most Americans ( in my experience) are initially uncomfortable with the concept of bartering.  Most people get stressed out at the thought of it and long for a land with fixed (and tagged) prices.  I was no different when I first arrived in China.  Every time I was forced to barter, I was plagued with anxieties: how much should it cost? How much is reasonable? I don't want to overpay, but I also don't want to offend someone by offering too little.  I don't want to rob someone of their livelihood!  I spent a lot of time--and money!--just giving the sellers at barter-friendly markets their initial asking price (or only putting up a token argument).  I mean, I once had a man at one of the vendors roll his eyes at me and shake his hands when I said okay the first time--the vendor was trying to get me to argue with him for a lower price!

So this is our favorite shopping center, it is literally right off the subway stop.  The picture is taken from exiting the subway terminal, facing on of the many entrance to this underground shopping warren. 

This avoidance of bartering lasted a few months.  Until I realized just how much you could talk these sellers down.  And how much money I could be saving--and thus how much more shopping I could be doing.  You see my logic? Thus I began to study the behavior of the sellers as well as the buyers (Dave and Justin were very good bartering mentors).  It also helped that my Chinese language skills were slowly improving--many  vendors spoke English, but I discovered better results (i.e. lower prices) if we conducted most of our exchange in Chinese--"a special price for you, because your Chinese is so good!" Overtime I grew to both love and excel (in my humble opinion) at bartering.

It just keeps going. 

So what are some of these behaviors that result in shopping wins?  Well, the first is to go into a shop with absolutely no emotion (this includes fear).  If you are foreign, you are probably going to be crowded by the sellers shortly after you walk through the door, and they are likely going to follow you around (this happens to everyone, eventually, as it seems to just be how business is conducted in China.  I think it is a way to show the buyer that you are available to help them make purchases. However, if you are foreign you are approached almost immediately when walking into the store). So expect to have someone at your elbow almost as soon as you enter, unless they are busy with another customer.  You can tell them you are just looking, and sometimes they will drift away, sometimes they will "assist" you by pointing you in the direction of certain popular items.   If you walk in to a store and look a bit intimated by the sellers and what's going on, the vendor is going to assume you are not as familiar with shopping and bartering in these markets and is going to try and start at a higher asking price.

Look at this stuff--and it's price is up to you and  your skills!

When you find something you want, you must also remember to not show any kind of emotion. If you get too visibly excited about an item, the power is transferred from the buyer to the seller.  Now he or she knows you really want it, and are thus more likely to pay more for it.  So keep it cool. Maybe pick it up, look at it for a moment, set it down, and then drift away from it for a while.   Examine some other items with the same level of "meh" as you did that item you really want.  Drift back over to the item you really want and begin the hard part of bartering with the question: "Duo shao qian?" (How much?)

Now, if you are foreign, the asking price is just going to be higher.  It just is.  Because let's face it, you can afford it.   So let's imagine I am buying a tea set.  And the seller asks for something outrageous--let's say 400 yuan.  This is like 70.00 USD.  I know that not only is this inflated because the seller wants to get the most from a sale, but it is extra inflated because I am foreign.

Instances of me bartering, both in Beijing.  On the left is me at the Forbidden City arguing over the price of a very badly translating book and to the right is a man I bought a fan, two t-shirts, and a hoodie from...all for about $50. 

So my rebuttal is some kind of outraged sound (maybe a 'ha' or a 'snort' or a 'no').  My next words will be Tae Gui Le!!  This means too expensive.  Now it is the vendors turn. He is going to ask me how much I think it should be.  Since he has given me an outrageous price, I will deliver to him something equally outrageous.  I will say 30 yuan.  Some vendors will laugh, since they know that I am simply doing the opposite of their initial volley--asking for astronomically low in response to the astronomically high price they suggested.  Some will respond to my price with their own outrage, "No, no, no, it's impossible, it's impossible."  To which I would reply that 400 yuan is impossible.  They would then come down, maybe say 350.  I would come back with something more reasonable with 100.  He would say 275, I would say 130, he would say 200.  At this point, someone is getting frustrated, either me, because he is not coming down low enough, or the seller because I am not budging.  Eventually he will yell that this is as low as he can go.  Sometimes you can still push them, especially if I were to counter that 175 is as high as I will go.  Now you are at a standstill and it all depends on who blinks first.  Do. Not. Blink.

Walk away.   Say "bu yao" (don't want) and walk away.  Shrug your shoulders (maybe look a tad disappointed) and walk away.  Nine times out of ten this will result in the vendor calling you back and either saying "okay" to your last suggested price, or at the very least shouting out a lower price.  Maybe that is a price you can deal with.  Fork over the agreed upon yuan and walk away victorious--you have just halved the original asking price of that tea set. (As a side note, you probably should not pay more than 100-150 for a tea set at most of these stores).  Depending on how much energy you have for bartering that day, you can talk them down really low.  I once talked a lady down from a 450 yuan bag down to 90 yuan.  We hated each other by the end, but I got that bag for the price that I wanted.

Now, if the vendor does not call you back, don't sweat it.  You usually can find the same thing at one of the other vendors.  The lady I bought the bag from was the third vendor I'd done battle with that day. If you walk around and you cannot find it, you can always go back and pay him his lowest asking price.  The only time I recommend just getting the item you want is if you know you won't be back.  If you are visiting a place and are only there for a day and you will never go back, get it as low as you can and then just pay them.  You don't want to regret not getting something really awesome because you were haggling over 10 dollars.

Bartering takes practice.  You're probably going to overpay for a lot of items until you get the hang it.  I eventually fell in love with this system.  It was still a bit stressful (and exhausting), but it was also fun.  It's kind of like a game, and once you know the rules, it's a lot of fun to play.  The hardest rule to learn is how  much is reasonable to ask for something.  You learn this by watching others and also by your successes.  If you are able to get a tea set for 175, next time try 150.  If you can get it for 150, try 120.  If you can't seem to get it lower than 120, then you know that you should probably never pay more or less than 120 for a tea set.  Never more than 10-15 yuan for a fan, never more than 25-30 yuan for a t-shirt, 50-60 for a hoodie, etc.  You get to learn the more you barter.  Eventually, you will find yourself walking into stores, demanding a price, and budging very little from that price.  I walked into a fabric store during my last week in China, pointed to the fabric I wanted, said, "120 yuan, right?" (I'd gotten it for this price before from a different vendor).  He looked like he was going to argue, but before he could I looked him dead in the eye and said, "120 yuan." He said okay.

Some more traditional things you can buy.  The guy to the right is selling paper cuts (hanging in the background) and is doing Chinese Finger Painting--he is using ink and different parts of his hands to paint the pictures you see in the foreground.  He is in the middle of a painting in the photo. 

Learning to do this well is an uncomfortable process for many Americans.  We are just not used to the idea that we can argue price.  It's almost as if we've come to understand that the price tag has a reason for being exactly what it is marked.  If it wasn't worth that price, it wouldn't be marked that way--we accept that the price is accurately reflective of the value of the item.  Well if China has taught me anything, its that all that is totally arbitrary, and completely inflated.  So get comfortable with bartering, because once you get the hang of it, you are going to do some killer shopping.  And you are going to deeply resent returning to a land where the prices are fixed and you are pretty sure that item is not worth anywhere near what is on that price tag.

I was once told by a vendor that I "bartered like a old woman."  This might be the greatest compliment anyone has ever given me.




Also, I have to thank Miss Amanda Woomer for the photos for most of this blog--I didn't ever think to take photos of this place while I was in China, so she went and took some for me.  She also has a blog about her time in China, which you can check out here.