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English Version 10
Thursday 10.04.08
First an impression of city life in the evening.
Lights on bikes are unknown. Bicycles go dark like most mopeds and
motorbikes. Besides the electrical bikes, I havn’t mentioned before.
There are plenty of them, though. Some motorbikes carry lights though,
and not to make it too tedious they carry sparkling blue and green
lights too. And then they race around as in the daytime.
I consider a tactic for supper. The hotel rules are written in English
in my room – and so is the menu? I go downstairs to look.
If they’re closing down the serving in this part of the hotel or I am
too important a guest, I don’t know, but I’m shown to another part
across the courtyard, that’s much more distinguished. In a fraction of a
second 4-5 girls surround me. The menu is in Chinese, but there are
pictures! What more can you ask? I choose a different dish but the
entire turtle that’s staring at me and some more. When I’ve ordered, the
head waiter (I think) arrives to manifest himself. What do I want? Is
there nothing else? No, I turn him down. The dish is brought in a minute
and they want to take away my chopsticks – do they really have knife and
fork? Or is it just a spoon they’ll offer – but I’ll never know, cause I
stick to my chopsticks. I’m doing allright, I think, even my technic
can’t be found in any textbook. And there are no rules says my Chinese
teacher and she should know if any?
Then arrives a glass of something I didn’t order, as far as I know.
Maybe it’s on the house? It looks like milk, and I’m surprised when it’s
hot. It even tastes a little like milk. The dish was 18 RMB. I’ve
ordered rice and a Qingdao beer, so what’s the bill gonna be in this
distinguished restaurant?
29 RMB. Rice was 5 on the mountain earlier (tourist prize!) a Qingdao
was 10 at Far East, so that’s not bad and they’re so sweet and want to
know everything. But I don’t get new information on the road to the
monastery.
Friday 11.04.08
The trip to Xuan Kong Si is shorter than expected. I DON’T have to go
through the tunnel. I ought to have seen it yesterday but you have to
keep your eyes on the road when you’re going down!
It’s tourists prizes here. Even toilet – and it’s not water flushing –
costs. Parking costs, on the other hand someone’s keeping an eye on my
bike, and that’s surely worth 5 RMB. The monastery is up there clinging
to the cliffs which is almost like a roof up above. Long poles are
supporting. From the first yard with souvenir shops the tour starts.
Through a narrow door and up even narrower iron forced stairs. Photos
are not allowed. Past the first room, where Buddha is sitting surrounded
by some disciples and a lamb? There’s a “kang” (traditional Chinese
heated bed) with a coal stove, which isn’t in use. The monks have long
left for tourism. Twisted dragons in squares in the ceiling, exept that
very humble. The continuation is stone stairs in the cliff and a low
wall against the abyss. I feel it in my stomach. In this floor a room
with 4 Buddhas behind glass and a rather scratched picture of some monks
on the wall holding a prayer carpet.
New iron forced stairs with a fence too low for me.
An extraordinary room filled with sculptures and ornaments. You can see
the rock through holes in the ornaments. Two more stairs up nearly
hanging in the air. It’s beyond my limits. The stair is hanging in the
air. I put my writing materials away and secure the bag over my head so
I can cling to something with both hands.
In the upper floor three sitting figures: Buddha, Lao Tse and a third
one, two servants and ornaments, which partly covers the cliff. At last
more Buddhas: Bao Shen and Ying Shen. Some coins and notes are put in a
bowl and spread around. People don’t give that much!
The last room looks like some of the previous only some guards have been
added at the sides.
Down a stair and through a hole in the cliff. A room with a
multicoloured pillow, to kneel on. Powerful red and yellow colours.
Three Chinese with hanging beards, two demons with a lot of arms and
golden snakes twist on the wall above.
 |
 |
| Better not suffer from fear of heights | At the Hanging Monastery |
Finally a room with a 100-armed? Buddha. In the last room with
Buddhas behind glass I thank for my survival by placing a note in the
bowl and walk back to the entrance and all the tea and coffee shops.
There I see a group of westeners with a Chinese guide. I find myself
staring wondering at them. They are the first I’ve seen since Beijing.
Now I know how the Chinese feel about me.
Then it goes back down the road, this time I don’t have to turn at
Hunyuan, but continue straight. The road is like a straight line,
declining and with a heavy tailwind. My speed is 32-45 km/h for more
than 5 km without doing anything. Then the landscape becomes flat like a
pancake. Exept 2 rows of poplars divided by a draining channel at each
side of the road there’s nothing but brown fields. The road is fine with
shoulders and I’m doing a fair speed. The rest of the day to Yingxian
nothing is happening. It’s just transportation. A small fat bird on a
wire is the only break. It looks like an owl. I get my binoculars and
there it is, the owl, sitting neatly watching me with it’s big eyes.
Once I’m passed by two motorbikes each loaded with 3 sheep with tied
legs and fastned one in front of the driver and two behind. A Chinese
addresses me speaking the best English I’ve heard since Beijing. After
some chat about this and that I ask him where he’s learned to speak so
well? Just picked it up here and there. And watched CCTV9? Yes, he
admits.
Reach Yingxian and find a place for 40 RMB. Then it’s without private
bath and toilet. One wall is aluminium profiles and glass with a rolling
door. And with windows at the “inner courtyard” where you can dry your
laundry, as I’ve done. A washtub is right outside but toilet and shower
is in the ground floor. Here are 6-8 rooms in all. It’s a bit
labyrinthic.
Go to have a look at the city. The usual mixture of paved main streets
with shops of all kinds and dirt roads and slum. They probably don’t see
it that way. It’s just like it’s been for 100 years, exept electricity
and waterpipes.
A new quarter is build in traditional Chinese style around the Pagoda,
the city brand. It’s Chinas oldest wooden pagoda, how high is it? 60 m?
It’s great. I don’t pay to enter. Have used enough on tourist
attractions lately. Go for some food. Have found the other phrasebook.
It tells the phrases for fried rice and fried noodles and the Chinese
characters. It’s raining – a well known pattern – I hope, because then
it’s stopped tomorrow.
I find a place, which shows to be very humble. The staff is a family, or
part of a family: 3 boys and 2 girls. I wonder if the oldest is their
mother? No, she’s too young.
It’s in China – they eat something different – they speak a for me not
understandable language, but their attitudes and their clothing are
universal. The youngest boy with his cap turned around partly.
What I show them in the phrasebook, I can’t have, meiyou! So I get the
same as everybody else: steamed buns with meat and a bowl of noodle soup
with VERY little meat and coriander leaves and a beer. The last is not
common. It costs 10 RMB = 7 d.kr. When only it’s fried, baked or steamed
enough all has gone well until now.
On my way back I go and find the “wang ba” which should be close, so
this letter should be sent today.
57.74 km
17.56 km/t
3:17:14 tim
51.2 km/t