Cambodia, Guilin, Beijing and St. Louis

It has been several weeks since my last post regarding Cambodia. It feels like a lifetime ago that I was there in the jungle exploring all the hidden rooms of the Angkor temples and palaces.

The rest of my time in Cambodia was spent at the temples and wandering around Siem Reap at night. One night I headed into the center of town. From my hostel it was a twenty minute walk. There I dined on Khmer specialties and each dish was more delicious than the last. From dinner I walked around the bar street but was not tempted by drink. I headed to a small souvenir shop where I browsed before the shining light of international football drew me close. I was casually watching a World Cup qualifying match between Russia and Wales. I was watching with the shop owner and his son who spoke only a little English. Together we made guttural sounds as opportunities came and went for the Welsh side. We tried talking a bit and we could understand each other. They had bet on several of the games taking place that evening so I took a look at their betting card and gave some unsolicited advice. Then behind me I heard an incredibly thick English accent. I turned and was surprised to find it coming from a Cambodian gentleman.



He was another son of the shopkeeper. I talked to him and the family offered me a seat and a glass of water. I stayed and watched two more games with this family late into the night. I talked with the son about how he acquired such an accent. When he was a boy he was adopted by an English family through some sort of international adoption program. He only spent eight months living in Manchester but somehow came out of the experience with a wicked accent. He was very open and honest about Cambodia and the government.



He told me stories about the development he has seen in Siem Reap and the opportunities afforded to him due to his brief stay in England (He had been working at an English international school for the last three years.) He also told of corruption and greed within the Cambodian government. He told a story about the son of the president of Cambodia. It seems there was a hit and run accident in the streets of Phnom Penh involving a yellow Ferrari and the son of the president was implicated. "How did they know it was him?" I asked. "Come on mate. There is only one Ferrari in all of Cambodia." After enjoying the family's hospitality and thanking them profusely I headed back to the hostel.



The next day I stayed in town and went to the big new museum they have there and kicked myself for not visiting Banteay Srei. If anyone reading this wants to visit Cambodia, I am in. I need to get back there just for this temple that I missed. That afternoon I boarded a plane and headed to Bangkok for an eight-hour layover. I said goodbye to Cambodia with a camera full of pictures and a bag full of souvenirs but the most lasting reminder has been the dirt on my shoes. The red earth that formed the roads has found its way deep into my shoes and still, almost a month later, it serves as a fantastic reminder of a beautiful country.



Once in Bangkok I proceeded to walk around the entire airport for hours on end. I ate...twice. The airport in Bangkok can best be described with three words: glass, steel, and blue. It is ultra modern in a very post-apocalyptic way. Very boring. I finally boarded my plane and made it to Shanghai by 7am. By 9am I was on Bryne's doorstep not having slept in more than a day. It was great to see Bryne but by the afternoon I was pooped and headed for a nap. I woke up in time for dinner and Bryne and I went out to catch up. Things in Shanghai seem to be going alright for Bryne. He works at a Christian school and for a man like Ronald Bryne Stothard I thought it would be quite annoying. He has taken to it and while the staff is a little boring, they are all nice people. We went to a bar with one of his younger, more inexperienced colleagues. There Bryne and I felt a little old and discussed the fact that neither of us felt much like going out to bars and dancing all night. Those times have come and gone. It is a bit sad but it is good for Bryne. He is preparing for the impending arrival of his new wife and baby. He growns up and he growns up.



The next day I explored Shanghai's downtown area. This is the first time in my three trips to Shanghai that I actually had time to thoroughly consider Shanghai. It is a magnificently modern city in portions. The Bund, where evidence of Shanghai's past glories are on display in the form of varied styles of western architecture, is a fantastic place to view the city's past and present. There among the new Gothic buildings and the art deco styling are old Chinese construction workers peddling tricycles and using pulleys to repair the streets and buildings. The center of Shanghai is also packed with wires for streetcars and seems like it a picture of New York City from one hundred years ago...except full of Chinese people. I wandered around and got some good pictures and then headed back to Bryne's to get some dinner. The next day I said my goodbyes to Bryne and headed to Guilin.

Guilin is famous for its topography. Anytime you see pictures or paintings of strange, mystical mountains that seem to go straight into the sky surrounded by a dense fog, that is Guilin. As I landed at the airport I was immediately struck by the alien terrain. As I rode into the city I spotted tons of rice paddies and villages and I immediately remembered my trip in Yunnan province during Spring Festival 2007. Rural China might as well be Cambodia. Poverty, poor living conditions, and persistent smiles dominate the landscape.

I arrived at the hostel and tucked into some good internet time. I had a look at some of the tour books they had on offer and found that I had made a poor decision staying in Guilin. Yangshuo is a smaller city down the Li River and it is home to some more famous scenery. I went to bed and the next day strolled around the city and climbed several of the peaks that poked through the smog. Guilin was hot as hell. Located just west of Guangdong province and to the East of Chongqing and north of Vietnam, it is in the "tropical" zone of China.

My second and last full day in Guilin I woke up early to try to catch a tour down the river to Yangshuo. They refused to book a tour for one person at my hostel so I frantically searched the area around my hostel looking for travel agencies that would. I went to the hotel next door and quickly negotiated a price for a full day tour that was leaving immediately. I hopped into the van and met a Chinese couple, Michelle and Jackie. They were both from Guangzhou and on vacation in Guilin. She had great English but he did not.

The drive to the river lasted about two hours and as we drove we passed through some mesmerizing scenery. We arrived at the river and I was told I could not go on the tour because it cost extra. I decided to hang back while Michelle and Jackie went on their tour. I took a nap in the hot sun while a police officer lectured a group of tour raft operators on etiquette and proper registration. Soon they were back and we headed to the next stop where I was allowed to participate. We boarded bamboo rafts and made our way down the river zig zagging between giant peaks and interrupting herds of water buffalo as they sought relief from the heat in the river. We stopped and had a chance to splash around in the river ourselves. The entire tour was fantastic.

The next day I boarded a plane and headed back to Beijing. My friends were having another party so it was another chance to say goodbye. The next three days were spent preparing for my departure from China. I walked as much as I could to try to emblazon the sights, sounds, and smells in my memory. I ate at a few of my favorite places and mostly tried to think about how China and I have changed since my arrival. The changes on both fronts are countless but at least most of the changes to Beijing can be seen, the changes inside of me can't. Trying to articulate how I have changed is a challenge and one that I was not too concerned with. I knew that the ways I have changed will become evident once I returned to the USA and that was the truth. On September 24th I packed my last bag and said goodbye to China and my friends.

As the taxi took me through the city on my way to the airport I visualized my route to work, I remembered the confusion and overwhelming feeling I had when I first arrived in Beijing. It was a gray day, a rainy day in Beijing, different from the gray pollution that greeted me when I arrived but still fitting for my departure. As I boarded the plane I was not sad or happy. I just thought of my time in China and all the people and things that made it so special for me. I know I will be back in China and I know when I return China will be different and so will I. For these past two years I was lucky enough to be living in the heart of one of the most exciting places to be in the history of the world and I am thankful for being able to be part of this fleeting moment in history.

This is not the last of the blog but I am nearing the end. The next post will probably be the last. Pictures to come.