Monday, June 9, 2008

Vietnam/China 11





Where to go on a long weekend? Bangkok? Already lived there. Angkor Wat? Done that. Well, that, of course, left only one place, Kunming.

I had never been to China proper before, having only visited Hong Kong and Macao 17 years ago before they reverted to mainland control. Kunming is the capital of southwestern Yunnan province and China’s gateway city to Southeast Asia. The Chinese call it the Spring City, because of its lovely weather and the fact that, perhaps alone among Chinese metropolises, it actually has fairly clean air. What’s amazing is that for a city of over 5 million people in a province of over 44 million, it gets so little attention. I mean Hanoi has 3.5 million people. Maybe it’s just because China has so many giant cities that we know so little about. Kunming doesn’t even make the top 20, behind such well-known spots as Tianjin, Changchun, Jinan, and Hangzhou. At the same time, it’s quite convenient for us. Only an hour and fifteen minute flight, closer than Ho Chi Minh City or Bangkok.

Anyway, regardless of size or global notoriety, we had a great time (photos here). Coming from hot, crowded, and noisy Hanoi, it was a wonderful change. Cool evenings, modern infrastructure, mercifully few scooters. And almost no English. I guess it reflects my underlying prejudices, but it really was surprising to walk through a modern, seemingly cosmopolitan city center, and realize that we could communicate with virtually no one. I take it as a given that big, bustling cities have some people who speak my language. But in Kunming, all the signs were in Chinese characters and few people could speak anything other than Mandarin or local dialects. In our hotel and a few higher end shops, we noticed a few signs in mangled English syntax like someone had looked up a collection of words in a dictionary and just plopped them down on paper “for water savings must keep clean do not overuse thankfully.” Hard to criticize when I can’t speak the local tongue, however, I’ve always wondered why an enterprising recent college grad doesn’t fly over a big Asian city (pick one) and offer up his or her services to any type of establishment seeking foreign customers to help them with their grammar and vocabulary. You won’t strike your fortune, but I can see it paying for room and board for a year or two before grad school.



We arrived on May Day to a city ready to have some fun. Our hotel was in a great location, right on Green Lake Park and walking distance to Yunnan University. We headed out into the park to see several gatherings of locals singing and dancing. Some were collections of minority tribes (Yunnan has at least 26 minorities with over 5,000 members) in traditional costume participating in the “Kunming Tourism Carnival,” while many others were older (and some younger) Kunming residents playing traditional instruments while singing with friends. Over the three days we were there, we must have seen thirty groups with friends and strangers wandering over to appreciate the show. We bought some steamed rice cakes with sesame and peanuts and enjoyed the spectacle.

In the evening, we joined a throng downtown to watch the May Day parade. I didn’t know what to expect. Some sort of Soviet-era pageant of missiles and weapons? No. A very professional collection of floats representing various regions and cities in China, many of which had an Olympic theme. Actually, somewhat similar to the Rose Bowl parade, with smiling princesses or dancers cheerfully waving to the crowds, kids sitting on parents shoulders, and, of course, Uighur vendors selling grilled lamb sausages. I was very happy to be a well-fed American as my towering 5 foot 11 inch frame made it easy to peer over my somewhat shorter Chinese counterparts. Of course, I was the only well-fed American in the group (waiflike Liz no longer counts as well-fed) -- a fact which caused our fellow Yunnanese parade-watchers some astonishment.

Kunming apparently has one street filled with western restaurants and cafes – appropriately known as Western Street. To get there we had to pass through Liz heaven – two blocks of fashion boutiques where she could try size 4 dresses on her svelte frame. After dragging (literally) Liz away from clothing, we visited a few of the small restaurants that cater to backpackers on their way to the mountain cities of Dali or Lijiang, Yunnan University students, and local English teachers. Despite the temptations of Yunnanese food, we actually had dinner one night at an excellent pizza place.

Now, let’s discuss the local dishes. We had a couple of terrific meals. Great local cuisine. Well-prepared and presented. Spicy and savory. At one modern and chic spot overlooking the lake, we enjoyed goat cheese curds and cilantro, Yunnanese ham, marinated and fermented tofu with fungus, and shrimp marinated in tea. Great stuff and there were many other tempting dishes on the menu. Of course there were some other dishes that were not so tempting. Example? Braised, dried frog sperm with sweetened ginger milk. That plate begs many questions, most of which you don’t want the answers to. For example, who was the first person who said, “That looks tasty. I have to try some of that.” Or “How do they get their supplies?” I picture a bunch of amphibians lounging around reading PlayFrog. Actually, I picture some kitchen worker doing horrible things to the beasts. Another night, we chose to eat at a traditional restaurant in an alley near our hotel. Beautiful architecture, wooden structure. No English whatsoever. At first, I tried to rely on pointing at pictures. That nearly resulted in a meal of minced donkey (no joke) until another patron with some English skills took pity on us and guided us to Yunnanese duck, spicy tofu, Tibetan cheese rolls, and Yunnanese buns.

Wanting to get out of the city, we arranged a car to take us 75 miles east to the Stone Forest, a several acre site of wind-etched and erosion-worn limestone shaped into sometimes fantastical shapes. Sadly, the ride out there was decidedly unspectacular. Kunming may be booming, but outside of the city we passed numerous small towns that at best seemed to be scraping by and at worst seemed largely abandoned. Too small a sample size to draw much of a conclusion, but I could see why people would be seduced by the bright lights of the big city.

The Stone Forest itself was an experience – part positive and part negative. It is as touristy as it gets, but it’s primarily focused on the local market. We snagged one of the only English speaking guides and of the few thousand people we saw at the park, only 5 or 6 could have come from anywhere but China. The parking lot was full of tour buses and touts trying to lure you into overpriced (and probably crappy) restaurants. The guides were primarily drawn from the local Yi tribe and all wore traditional garments. Single women in colorful attire, with two “horns” on their hats indicating their lack of partner. Men also wore bright headware. The Stone Forest itself actually was impressive. Huge blocks chiseled by the elements, narrow winding passages and flooded grottos. Great for photos. We avoided purchases at the local gift shop but couldn’t avoid getting hit up for some tea (it’s a small consolation that it actually tasted quite good). We then were sent to the traditional dance (“totally free”), at which all the men were selected for a round of public humili. . . dancing with Yi women. As anyone who knows me can attest, there is nothing I like more than the opportunity to look foolish in public. Yes, that’s right in my comfort zone. Anyway, they dressed me in and outlandish outfit (with hat!), made me dance, pick up women, and down a shot of God knows what – all while instructing me in a language I don’t understand. On top of that, I got hit up for 100 Yuan (about $14). Good times. Good times.

As the holiday continued, we took a taxi cross town to Daguan park where we again mingled with the crowd enjoying a long weekend. Larger than Green Park, Daguan included an amusement area, where we watched a group of Uighur women with headcoverings board the log flume, numerous food stalls, and broad grassy areas where families picnicked and older men flew giant kites high into the sky. We also stumbled across what appeared to be the filming of a commercial with four young ladies in traditional costumes pedaling a four seated bicycle. No idea what product they could have been pitching – Quadruplemint gum? We took a small boat across the lake to the Western Hills where we strolled about in the heat a peered up at temples carved out of near vertical rock.

The next morning, it was back to the airport and onto the plane back to Vietnam.