Teacher, This Empty Glue Stick is for You.

I knew when I came to China the days of making construction paper binoculars and teaching spelling lessons would come to an end. Between the weeks of visiting other cities in China, I always came back to a classroom of kids whose stories (and names) made me laugh. I'd grown attached to all 84 of them; how could you not? Each one has a little personality and while sometimes that personality meant snarling and speaking behind your back in Chinese, you love your kids...meaning the end of the semester held some very sad goodbyes. 

All the teachers and students had worked very hard to put on a final performance for the parents of each of our students.  My older kids combined with the other 3 classes and put on a production of "The Wizard of Oz". It was a bit of an issue trying to make sense of a play that included talking lions, melting witches, and flying monkeys, but by the end it seemed like the students enjoyed themselves. Our adorable second graders embarked on an underwater adventure, each class divided up into different ocean going groups; lifeguards, pirates, sailors, snorkelers, hula dances, and beach goers. It. Was. Adorable. The production was beyond cute, each class had learned a little skit and dance to go along to their dance with each kid dressed up in their little beach attire. My 7 cuties were dressed up with white suspenders over blue and white striped tee shirts as the cutest sailors I've ever seen...and because I'm in charge, they all belted out the Beatles' "Yellow Submarine" and danced with sequined construction paper fish after their skit. It was so cute, however having the production over meant only 2 meager days with our kids before saying goodbye. 

SO. CUTE. 

The fourth graders seemed indifferent to our departure. The last two of days of classes were filled with lawless games of Uno (seriously, in what universe can you play Uno on teams and put down a blue 4 when the card on the deck is a red 7?) and towers of Jenga. Origami lessons happened while movies played, and a random assortment of treats were shoved into open mouths until the bells rang.  It was all good fun but the only difference between the previous party day and our last day was the fact that some students were interested in swapping WeChat information and a hug before running outside the classrooms. And that was that. 

Second grade was a different story. My cute kids lined up by class in the gymnasium, looking eager to see what sort of games or crafts awaited them. Their Chinese teacher wanted us to read a book with our classes, but we all interpreted that to mean taking as many pictures and videos as we possibly could in the truncated class period. When all six classes lined up to leave, all the teachers were in tears. Their Chinese instructor told them in Chinese that today was the last day which prompted the sweet girls to sob and sob and sob. After some wet hugs, they lined up to leave. 

This is intentionally in black and white because of my blotchy crying face. 

 A couple of days later, we were allowed to say a quick hello and goodbye after classes had ended which was a much happier affair. Kids swarmed to supply their WeChat information and eagerly accepted ours. I had written notes for my home room on Salt Lake City postcards which were received with mixed results; some kids loved the notes, others were confused as to why I had given them a card with snowy mountains and a skier on it. I myself received a few gifts; a Snow White pencil, a 'white-out' sticker roll, and an empty glue stick. It seems my cute kids had shoved their hands into desks and pulled out whatever school supplies they could part with in 10 minutes. 

With the promise of chats and video calls from my cute kids, I'll leave for the Shanghai, Pudong airport after a couple days longer in Nanjing. In the meantime, I plan on drinking buckets of coconut bubble tea, slurping up plates of hand pulled noodles, and trying to fit all my souvenirs into various suitcases. I'll be sure to find room for a Snow White Pen, a white out roll, and an empty glue stick. 

Lunch With 100,000 Buddhas

A short bullet train ride from the Xi'an train station got us to part two of the last vacation in China. It's hot in the city of Luoyang, we'd been traveling consistently since February, and there were definite stressors waiting for us back in Nanjing...but I wasn't going to cut a vacation short. Since it was our last little trip in China, I was going to make the best of it. That meant air conditioned taxis the whole trip long. I had done my time crammed onto busses, sardine-like. I loved it, but it was time to only have my sweat on my shirt at the end of the day, instead of the sweat of dozens of strangers you are pressed against as you make the 42 minute bus ride back to the city center. Oh, China. That air conditioned ride to the Luoyang Grottoes was worth every Yuan.

I meant my promise of treating this trip like old people. We paid for a tram to take us to the caves, a boat to take us back to the tram, and a return tram back to the exit. It was glorious.

The Grottoes were a highlight I'd been looking forward to for weeks. Once I delved into China's exhaustive history, I knew I wanted to see some of the best preserved grottoes that had somewhat survived the brutality of the Cultural Revolution. Luoyang did not disappoint. I was completely astounded to think of who had carved thousands - literally, thousands - of tiny Buddhas into this cave complex. While the massive statues were worth a marvel, each other the teeny carvings were incredible to look at. Another poignant memory was the blazing heat. There is not a person on this planet I would have given a hug to in that heat. Mom and dad? Nope. Gus from Alt - J? Handshake. The sister I haven't seen for two years? High five. It. Was. So. Hot. Despite this heat, corner shops at the base of the grottoes were selling 1) Hot tea 2) Hot milk and 3) Hot water. Hard pass.

 I could barely keep my popsicle from melting down in sticky drips before taking it out of the wrapper. That was lunch, in case you were wondering. I had no appetite for anything other than frozen foods at that point in the day.  After a stroke of heat exhaustion and more sweaty admiration of the grottoes, it was off to our hostel.

Our cool vibe hostel had fabulous air conditioning which we took full advantage of before scavenging for dinner. A little noodle shop around the block had a steaming bowl of tomatoes and eggs, which was delicious. I tolerated the hot meal with 2 ice cream bars before heading to lantern street for some Chinese shopping. I picked up a tee printed with bananas (a wardrobe staple, didn't you know?), some NKIE socks, and a handful of snack from the vendors that lined the streets. It's been months, but I still love seeing ruby red crawfish neatly staked in rows next to those tasty long, thin, ivory mushrooms. It's a stunning site.

After grabbing some nectarines from a fruit cart (I can't even think about not having those carts dot my streets back home, because I'm addicted) I thanked my strong immune system after seeing one rinsed off in the gutter water. Yum. It's another early morning tomorrow,

Terracotta Tandem Bikes.

As if my semester of teaching abroad hasn't had enough adventures, there was still one last 5 day vacation on my calendar. The obvious choice was to head north and west of Nanjing to Xi'an; there was no way I was leaving China without seeing thousands of Terracotta Warriors lined up in neat little rows.

So many soldiers. 

Our adventure started (and ended) with a sleeper train; the delight of sleeping in a stack of 3 beds on either side sandwiched between Chinese riders who talk very loudly through the night and take phone calls in inopportune hours of the morning was just too much fun to resist. (By fun, I mean affordable). The fun continued when 2 members of our Xi'an travel group did have a bit of a Goldilocks situation to deal with on this sleeper train. Upon boarding, 2 beds had wrinkled sheets and obvious evidence of someone sleeping in their bed. The story is funnier when you factor in the fact that each bed would be deemed "too hard" by anyone playing Goldilocks. China knows a lot of things, but it is a stranger to a soft mattress. Luckily, things were sorted out relatively quickly despite the language barrier.

I, however, lucked out my bunk mates this time around, none of whom had slept in my bed before my arrival. A very cute family with a very cute 7 year old were polite and very quiet; the most noise made was teaching mini Chinese/English lessons before the train's lights went out. Upon arrival at the Xi'an station, they invited our group of Americans to find and ride the bus to the Terracotta museum with them, meaning we didn't have to spend an eternity looking up where to find the bus station and triple checking our information to find the right bus.

I had goals of painting calligraphy on my own fan, but I decided to leave it to the experts. 

After buying tickets and weaving between souvenir vendors, we said goodbye to our little adopted family and went to explore the complex that houses the warriors. Pit #1 was first up on the list; a dusty airplane hanger swarming with tourists. When you did get your turn to see the warriors, it was difficult to take in. Rows, and rows and rows of soldiers lined up, each armed with a unique facial expression. Though the line was impressive, the highlight of the first pit came from the glimpses of the restoration process. Further into the hangar, soldiers were slowly being pieced together, held together by plastic wrap as their missing hands and armor shards were awaiting placement. Though it would be incredible to see the warriors all put together and lined up, it was impressive to see the meticulous work it takes to get these statues in one piece.

We spent the rest of our day admiring the other pits, and checking into our hostel. A visit to the Muslim Quarter made for an excellent dinner (that aspect of Xi'an will be getting it's own post), before heading to bed. Day 2 in Xi'an was a scorcher, so obviously the best way to enjoy the blistering sun was to ride atop the massive city wall on tandem bike.

Obsessed with these spicy noodles paired with cucumber. 

H. and I had the goal of riding as many forms of transportation as possible while abroad. While busses, planes and metros were easy wins, some of the more obscure modes of transportation were more tricky to find. But with motor scooters, chairlifts, ziplines, paddleboats, and bamboo rafts (etc),  under our belts, the tandem bike just had to happen. So, the minute we read online you could tandem bike in Xi'an, it was a guaranteed part of our trip. This method of getting around required much more of learning curve than our other forms (though a segway in Suzhou was also a bit tricky), it was a blast despite the furnace like temperature.

Tandem bike? Check. 

Naturally, the next course of action was the find shade and ice cream as soon as possible, leading us to the busy Muslim Quarter.  For details and artsy photos of walnuts, see the "Lunching in the Muslim Quarter" post.  That evening was spent making traditional foods for the Dragon Boat festival and double checking details about the next half of our trip. It was a quick visit to Xi'an, but well worth the trip.

Lunching in the Muslim Quarter.

If you are a fan of reading my blog (I think I am the only one who falls in that category), you’ve read posts and posts about various markets and food streets. I’m not sure “farmer’s markets” counts as a hobby, but if it does, add it to my list. That being said, when I go abroad one of the first criteria for experiencing a new city is to explore their food streets. Xi’an made that easy; their Muslim Quarter is fabulous. I was counting down the days to see the Terracotta Warriors, but I was also ticking down the hours until dinner. I had hopes the area would be reminiscent of the Muslim Quarter housed in the Old City of Jerusalem, but hopes of that sort of similarity were pleasantly dashed upon arrival. The streets are lined with shops selling characteristic souvenirs, while huge rounds of a yellow “cake” glistened with persimmons are artfully carved into geometric triangles next to entire carcasses being butchered into kabobs. It’s a lot to take in. 

It looks like cake, but it's not. How's that for disappointment? 

Both Wednesday evening and the majority of Thursday were spent in the Quarter, giving me plenty of time to attempt to take in all the sites, smells, and tastes. Wednesday’s meal consisted of a bowl of thick and cumbersome noodles piled high with a melody of pickled potatoes, zucchini and what I think were radishes, and the entirety of Thursday’s afternoon was filled with snacks from the swarm of vendors that are sprinkled down each street. Spicy cheyenne fried potatoes pair nicely with Xi’an thick yogurt, but avoid the little bread cakes stamped with Chinese Characters sold for 1 yuan…It’s similar to eating a dry salt cake mixed with a flour paste. Not my favorite bite from the Muslim street, to be sure. 

Aren't walnuts beautiful? 

Because of the heat, several Yuans were spent on ice cream and yogurt bars as we poked into the alleyways and did some shopping before visiting Gan Gao’s courtyard for a shadow puppet show. Despite not understanding word of dialogue, the intricate puppets were mesmerizing to watch…and the show made a good intermission between noshing on the edible goodies waiting outside. Another yogurt bar was purchased before sitting down on the hot steps to watch dusk settle over the massive Bell Tower that marks the entrance to the Muslim Quarter; swarms of birds were replaced by bats that swirled by the structure’s rafters while people milled around the shops that towline the square. It was a dreamy end to a lovely day of squealing over rounds of puffed pita and beautifully piled goose eggs…made even more perfect by snagging a spear of cool cantaloupe from a fruit vendor on my walk back to the hostel. 

Eggs in cartons are a rare sight in China; my favorite way they are transported is in a massive crate
precariously situated at the feet of whomever is driving the motor scooter. 

The Venice of China.

Dubbed "The Venice of China," Suzhou is just a short ride by bullet train from Nanjing...But why save time when you can save money by taking a K train? Unlike their faster counterparts, K trains are bombarded by youths who make quite the racket despite the early hour. Crowded, smoke filled, and loud; exactly how a vacation should start. Sarcasm aside, the 2 days in Suzhou was delightful. Saturday and Sunday were spent on the beautiful canals, gazing up at a building that looks like a pair of pants, eating steamed bread that looked like penguins, and perusing various markets. Food, architecture and alleyways: that's exactly how a weekend should start.

Not quite Italy, but close. 

Serendipitously, right after we had gotten off a city bus trying to make it to the PanMen gardens, a lovely lady named Ivy invited us to lunch and drove us through the windy alleyways to the garden. She had seen us trying to figure out where we were on a massive city map and asked if we would like a ride to the park instead of walking. She mentioned she needed to get lunch for friends before leaving, ordered us noodles, then had us all eat lunch up in her office that overlooked the city. We then all piled into her car and got to PanMen in record time. Suzhou was quickly earning some serious points; people can be so incredibly kind. The park itself was beautiful; white washed and black tiled hip and gabled roofs peeked out between pagodas, willow lined canals, and dreamy bonsai forests. To top it off, an art installment had beautiful glass orbs that chimed between vibrantly colored paper windmills, creating a quiet swirl of sounds when the breeze flitted through the trees. Naturally, it was an ideal place to take a nap.

Little motorcycles zip along the city stopping to sell the most beautiful fruit. 

Maybe it was the crooning lullaby our boats-woman had sung during our canal ride, but all four of us were beat despite it being early afternoon so we cuddled up on the banks of the canals and snoozed a bit before walking down the haphazard streets to our next bus stop. I don't use the term haphazard lightly; the roads are a honking maze of mopeds swerving between private cars a busses while this particular street had shops with knee high stacks of dishes out front or burlap sacks piled high with cayenne, black tea, cinnamon sticks and other spices. I loved it.

Forget buying dishing off the rack. 

And that's exactly how the rest of the weekend went; kind strangers riding segways pointed us to various gardens, markets, other food streets or alleys crammed full with succulents and parrots. I'm not kidding; Suzhou is home to a "bird and flower market" which means a terrifying combination that's reminiscent of an overcrowded and outdoor Petsmart and the abandoned garden section of your local Home Depot. It's an assault on the senses to be sure.

There are the loudest chirping crickets ever in this little clasped containers. 

I've yet to make it to Italy's Venice, but China's version certainly offered some aspects I'm sure aren't found in Europe. Sipping a coconut milk tea down the canals with an 'everything bagel' -esque round of bread made by one of the prominent Muslim eateries is one major difference- that and  being pleasantly bombarded by high school students who need to take pictures with foreigners for a homework assignment. Suzhou was unpredictable and beautiful; the characteristics of a weekend in China.