fillingthegaps

in my last post we had just arrived at the ‘GER” the Mongolian name for their circular felt-insulated, collapsible homes. 

Rach had found this place through the ‘Couch-surfing’ web-site. The original intention was that this would be a time when the kids could experience real winter conditions with heaps of snow and frigid temperatures. The kids were really looking forward to snow, but alas, it was not to be. Frigid temperatures yes. Iced-over river, yes. But snow? Only on the distant mountains. Never the less, this was to be one of the most unforgettable experiences of our lives.

As we made our way across the rocky section we noticed a quaint little shed in one corner. Gardening shed? No this is the toilet chaps, equipped with the very best traditional         2-plank squat facility. (a great incentive for learning the art of ‘hanging on’ in the middle of a minus 10C night!)

When we reached the Ger we wondered how we were going to get in. Rob was about twice the size of the door opening!

However our smiling hostess with limited English beckoned us in, and we struggled into the relative gloom on the inside. Now outside we have had clear blue skies since I can’t remember when, with the sun always dazzling our vision. And the air temperature has been hovering around 3 – 10 C. Suddenly we were pitched into the relative gloom of a windowless Ger with a room temperature around 28 C.

Let me take a moment to describe a Ger. It is circular, approximately 6-7m in diameter. The wall height is about 1.5 M and the centre is supported on two poles about 1 m apart, which are about 2.5 M high. The two centre poles support a timber ring (about 1.5 M diameter.) This ring is toothed like a giant cog-wheel and into the gaps in the teeth are slotted supporting poles that angle out to the outer wall.

The outer wall is made of a continuous trellis –like lattice. Wrapped around the lattice, and over the roof poles, is laid a heavy layer (or  more likely several layers) of felt. Holding the felt in place is a heavy cotton ‘sleeve – the size of the Ger. Holding the sleeve in place are several wide straps like a couple of belts around a rotund father christmas. Inside, the floor consists of timber layed on the ground (which has been levelled ) and then covered with felt and finally some more timber sheeting. In the centre of the Ger, between those two poles is a coal-burning range, the flue of which sticks up through the roof. The walls are hung with curtain-like material.  And this is where everyone lives together for the Winter months. t it can be blowing a gale, and 20 C below, inside it is a quiet, cosy 25 C or more!

But there was so much about living in this place that gave pause for thought. I have talked before about contrasts, but these two days were just staggering. Consider: our host has a degree in Computer Science, and works in the IT section of the City Library. This is a man who is passionate about the Environment; about progress for his people, about the value of families, Education and so on. A man who has a passion for lifting the level, not just of his family, but his Country! And this is no idle dreamer: he has his feet on the ground and he is doing something about his passion. He is heavily involved in producing a newspaper designed to provoke awareness, the need for change, respect for the values of earlier generations, the need to care for the environment, how to budget, how to live sustainably. Oh his ideas and words just flow!

And what are the circumstances of this modest but passionate man? He lives in a Ger. No piped water to the house. Where does the water come from? He buys it from the water-station at  the bottom of the hill. Then he drags the barrel of water uphill on a trolly, with his wife pushing from behind, just about every day. Try that when it is 40 below and everything is iced up, as it is in mid winter. Power is trailed from somewhere on a thin cable and lights 2 bulbs hanging from the roof. But note – one of the bulbs is a power-saving mercury vapour bulb. He is checking to see if it is all that it is said to be. And I have told you about the toilet facilities. Next year he plans to dig a 2-person facility for more convenience for his . No shower, no bath not even a wash hand basin. Just a tap in one corner, a small tank above filled by hand and ladle. Get rid of waste water? carry it in a big basin down to the cess-pit next to the dunny. Or if the weather is bad, scuttle a few feet from the door and chuck it into a convenient gully. On a fine sunny day, the cow dung is drying nicely.

 The wife has collected it from their two cows (oh, didnt I tell you about the two cows they hace in a shed a couple of metres from the door?) 

 Today she can go over her collection carefully, seeing which are dry enough to use on the fire to supplemnt the coal. Does she see this as degrading? No – it’s a very practical example of sustainable living. In this house (Ger) nothing is wasted. All the vegetable peelings, leftovers from meals etc are fed to the cows, to supplement the fodder they have too buy during the winter months. Which reminds me – in the summer they take their cows up the the hills behind them, to graze on the lush grass.

We went for a walk up there the other day. Right now at the end of winter, the hillsides are literally bare rock and gravel. But we were assured that in a moths time the hills will be covered in green and there will be lots of grass for the cattle and for making hay. It appeasers that any one can take their cattle to graze there. Of course you cannot leave them unattended because they will be stolen.

So this is the life for this young couple and their four bright, intelligent kids. The Library computer technician has been overseas 4 times. He has seen how life is lived in the West. Is he envious or despondent about his lot? Not in the least! He is convinced that things will improve, and he is going to be part of the process. He believes that Mongolia has much to teach the West, and he is confident that the day will come

He also has a sense of humour! He confessed that he accepted Rachael’s requst to stay because ‘he wanted to see how manny could be squeezed into his GEr! There wre 6 of them and 11 of us – that made 17 of us laid out like sardines in a tin when we ‘went to bed’ Bed by the way, was your sleeping bag on thee floor.

His wife, by the way, had studied dress design and cooking at Tech college. How did she feel about grubbing around in sloppy sweater and gumboots, sorting the cow-dung? I had occasion to ask her if she was happy and she she replied with a quiet smile on her face, that she loved looking after her family. End of story.

today was going to be a restful day: an easy start followed by a good afternoon rest in preparation for a visit to the night market with the main objective of tracking down a couple of ‘’dragon’ shirts for the two older boys.

Well all objectives were achieved and so we could say it was a successful day, but the truth is, by the time we all got back to the hostel, we were all tired, nerves were frayed, tempers were short and bed seemed to be the best place for everyone to be! Now why would that be? (a short interruption to my thoughts here as Tgirl4 advises me that ‘going downstairs to the toilet with no pants on is totally cold’. I suggest to her that it might be a good idea to put some pants on before wandering around the hostel)

AS I said the day started well. We went for a walk, intending rather casually to see if we could find a barber – some of the herd were well past their shearing time. We checked out a few. Prices seemed to start at a base of Y20 with add-on’s in Y20 steps. Cheap enough by NZ standards (Y20 = $NZ5 approx) but when there is a mob of you there is always the need to find the best deal. Besides, your thinking changes as you get accustomed to values in the new currency and so you look for ‘best price’ regardless of NZ equivalents. And so it was that we came upon a splendid hairdresser’s manned by about 4 young men each adorned with the latest in Asian men’s hairstyles. Difficult to describe – long softly-flowing spiky tresses coyly covering sensitive almost feminine features, and one with artful touches of blond and pink streaks through. Hah! I thought, just the place to get my hair cut–NOT. But the price was Y10 – and that included a hair wash. So in we went. First the two young boys and Rob.

While they were being attended to, I went with the older kids for a walk around the block. By the time we got back, the team was ready to take the next batch.

These hairdressers were of unknown origin – they were Asian but did not speak the local dialect so even local customers were using sign language to communicate. But they had a stack of styling books and so every one was able to pick out a style they liked and leave them to it. In the end, the process of hair wash/cut/hair wash looked so relaxing (and cheap) that I decided to get a chop for myself. Very pleasant.

After that Mama took the littlies back for a rest as planned and the rest of us did a bit of shopping and then we returned to base.

So far all had gone according to plan! Now we all set off to walk to the Muslim Quarter which housed the Night Market, via the Drum Tower and the Bell Tower, two iconic landmarks which we we thought we could take in, en route. But as we are finding out more and more – ALL attractions in China attract a significant entry fee. So once again we contented ourselves with the outside view of things.

And so on to the Muslim Q and the Night market. Actually we got there before the night, and things were relatively quiet at the start. Rach and the boys trawled up and down the  narrow aisles, which by the minute thickened up with traffic, looking for Dragon shirts of a) the right size, b) the right colour and c) the right price. You need to know that the search  for Dragon shirts has been going on for about a month-obviously without success. The odds of being successful this evening were not good, but they were intent on tracking something down.

I think this is where the day started to unravel. It had been under stress during our walk: walking through crowded noisy streets to look at uninteresting things is not every young boys idea of fun, especially when bursting with suppressed energy, so they frequently found themselves racing beyond the parental bounds of control. This had to  be dealt with, for the boys safety and our sanity and resulted in some grumpy uncooperative children. And then the search began………….

Crowded Night Markets with intersecting alleys, peopled by crowds, bicycles, scooters, tricycle goods carriers, the occasional mini-van and even an arrogant Mercedes or two, makes for a hazardous environment, and a place easy to lose kids, not to mention adults!

As we trawled up and down, doubling back occasionally with some going one way and some another, things became to me at least, very confusing. Who was where and what they were doing became unknown. Communication was difficult due to to the incredible racket of hawkers hawking, stall holders trying to persuade you, vehicles tooting, bicycles dinging and everybody shouting to be heard above the noise. Bedlam is a reasonable description of the scene.

Add to the mix some tired, bored & frustrated children, and the tension rises.

Jboy13 was the first to get lucky, and Kboy11 grew despondent his size just did not seem to be around. So we broke off for some dinner in the food section.

That raised flagging spirits, to such an extent that the search was resumed. By this time the market was actually shutting down. Jgirl14 and I, having lost track of where anyone else was, discussed the merits of chopsticks with a pretty but desperate stall holder. She started off with a special very cheap price of Y660. As we were finally walking away she was desperately offering them at Y40.  But we were unmoved.

Finally a grinning Kboy11 and Mama appeared, having followed a guy to another place (who knows where?) who had actually produced THE goods – right size,design, colour AND price! We should have returned home rejoicing but the fact was too many of the kids had crossed the threshold and were too tired to care.

But what wonders a good night’s sleep can do! The happy purchasers proudly modeled their purchases for me this morning

and a bit later we  on a marathon walk: 15.8 km around the top of the Great Wall which surrounds this city, And not a word of complaint from anyone. These kids are fantastic – but more of that on the next blog.

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………….back on a train today, Going from Shanghai to Xi’an.  In my recent posts I have waxed enthusiastic about Chinese trains and their rail systems. I have to modify that view a bit because we have been downgraded to an old model for this journey (starting at midday and arriving at 9.0 am tomorrow.) On the one hand it saves us accommodation for a night; on the other hand I know we are not going to get much sleep on this rinkle-chunkle old rattletrap. We thought we lacked a little privacy on the last sleeper: this one is totally open.

 Still 3-tier bunks facing each other, but of a special design devoid of any discreet paneling to afford some privacy. In fact I have renamed this train Stalag III because it is overseen by Frau Goebells –or the Chinese equivalent. She is our coach manager (I assume) and rules with a humourless rod of bamboo. She doesn’t like us opening the window, she doesn’t let us leave a lollipop on a plate for future consumption; she drags a filthy mop up the corridor and swishes it into our cubicle, scattering feet and boots willy nilly without a word, a smile or even a friendly snarl. The sleeper bunks are of the exposed variety so that Frau Goebells can see what we are up to at all times. We had a rubbish bin for our wrappers etc for the first part of the journey. She has wordlessly confiscated this, presumably to have the contents checked by headquarters before we disembark.

The train has a special way of stopping and we have worked out that they have a large bucket of rocks at the end of each carriage, which they toss under the wheels when ‘stabling’ is required.  (The toilets doors warn that ‘no occupying while stabling is allowed’)  In addition the hydraulic buffers between carriages have been, well, dispensed with so stopping entails violent grumblings followed by by violent bone jarring jerks. You know when you have stopped and are eternally thankful that you are still in one piece.

I’m writing about the process rather than the journey because frankly, the scenery,, what we could see of it through the thick hazy smog, has been forgettable.

As before, endless vistas of fields intermixed with crumbling dwellings, brickworks, huge motorway roads and flyovers, massive factory buildings, hundreds of identical high-rise apartment blocks, paddy fields, ponds of various sizes and stages of stagnation, and all covered in this weird thick haze which restricts visibility to about 1/2km maximum. The haze has got me bluffed. It smells like smog, it stings the eyes and tickles the throat – but smog for 100’s  of kilometers?

A final comment on our guard. My posting was brought to an abrupt end at this point last night when, without warning, all the lights were turned off! That was at 9.45pm!

Anyway, back to the people. The taxi driver who took  us to the station this morning could not have been more friendly. We had ordered two  taxis (why would you need more? there are only 11 of us with 13  backpacks and a large suitcase plus a stroller !) to be taken to the rail station this morning. Rob’s driver, however was distinctly ratty. Probably because  we had ordered the taxis for 12.30 and were running 5 mins late. Plus probably the fact that it takes about 10 mins to get everybody and their packs etc, squeezed into the taxi! However since the total taxi fare was only 21 Yuan and Rob gave him a 10Y tip he was finally happy as well’.

Our arrival in the city of X’i’an  caused the biggest stir yet. It is starting to get to me a little, this open curiosity as if we each had 3 legs and green beards or something. We were supposed to be met at the station by the Hostel people so of course we stood around outside the station looking hopeful. No sign of the pickup. So Rob digs out his laptop and looks up the phone number of the hostel and proceeds to ring them on his cellphone. The crowd that gathered during this 10 min exercise was unbelievable – at least 60 or so people crowding shoulder to shoulder peering over Robs shoulder to see what he was looking at on the laptop and relaying the information to the crowd.

as usual, as soon as I point the camera, they all pretend to be  doing something else! Its the sort of behavior you read about when Capt Cook first landed in the Tahiti, but it is not as if we are the first white people to have visited China. We can only put it down to the size of the family, which is verboten in China of course. I tried just looking directly into the eyes of the audience but they were immoveable. That is, until I got my camera out and started photographing them. Suddenly they find an interest in other things!

However the ordeal ended when Rob was asked by the hostel folk to catch 2 taxis because their van was elsewhere – fares to be refunded. The hostel is really excellent and is located right next to the ancient Walled City which is one of the things we came here to see,

We have been out for a stroll and ‘grazed’ (for lunch) on what looks like semi-glazed sweet pizza bases, buns filled with a variety of pickled veggies, chilly beans and other unknown ingredients, the steamed ‘pow’ both pork and beef filled, and exotic omelet/pancakes containing eggs, veggies, crispy pastry pieces etc.

 That lot from 4 different little shops cost us a total of around 29 Yuan  – about $NZ7. To feed 11 of us. Of course if we chose to go into a restaurant the cost would be a very different story!

Now we are back at base, having a rest before investigating a bit more.

It’s a funny thing, but I had a mental picture of Shanghai – probably formed by adventure books read well over half a century ago. “Shanghai” conjured up for me the very essence of the Mysterious Orient:of shadowy Chinese pagodas, Opium dens, sinister slit-eyed villains with large curved knives, and dark alleys with scurrying rats.

But looking at our fellow passengers on the train, my dreams were already crumbling. Here was the usual ordinary mix of mums,dads, business men, grandpas and nannas. Not a rogue in sight. and all bound for Shanghai for as the notice said, ‘no stops between Hong Kong and Shanghai’ Not a curved blade to be spotted. Not even a tattoo, opium pipe or a sinister rogue to be seen. In fact the most sinister looking character I saw on the train was Rob, who had not shaved for some considerable time and had that grimy look of the long-distance traveler.

Yes, non-stop to Shanghai, a distance, by the GPS of just a whisker under 2,000 kms and on an electrified line the whole way. Average speed for the journey was something around 100 kmph, and that included two long unexplained stops

The beds on the train turned out to be comfortable, if a mite narrow. We all managed a sleep of some sort.. but we were all a bit bleary  eyed in the the morning.

The scenery that  we saw during the daylight hours was strange to the Kiwi eye. Where we are used to seeing endless acres of green  paddocks and rolling hills dotted with sheep or cattle, and just  the occasional remote farmhouse, here, for mile upon mile upon mile we saw endless acres of  small paddy  fields or vegetable gardens.

And everywhere were dwellings. From crumbling single level hovels to 6-8 story apartments to palatial houses, often over a hundred all identical.

There seems to be no transition between farming, residential and commercial areas – all  are jumbled together in what can only be described as a huge shambles. Imagine a brickworks surrounded by market gardens broken up  by residential areas, and you will have some idea. Oh, and the ponds and rivers that permeate all areas. I guess the ponds are used to irrigate both paddy and veggie plots, but the ponds back right up to the backs of houses, giving the whole area a dank and mosquito-ridden appearance. And these scenes are repeated seemingly endlessly. There seemed to be little evidence of mechanization on the agricultural side. Many people digging away with the trusty chungkles but not too many tractors.  And this is strange because this country is just booming with development.  New roading, massive fly-overs, new rail tracks, new buildings both commercial and domestic. Everywhere huge projects under way, and yet the rural scene seemed strangely primitive. A country of contrasts alright.

Shanghai railway station is huge, and set up rather like an airport terminal. The trains that arrive from Hong Kong are handled like an incoming flight and all passengers are  subject to customs and passport checks.

 a fairly lengthy business, but handled with speedy efficiency. Chinese Officialdom loves to throw its weight around, but as long as you do as you are told, they are very polite.

We decided to get tickets for the next two  stages of our journey, while we were at the station, and this opened my eyes to some more of the China Way. Rob and I found our way to the ticketing hall. A hall with at least 50 ticket booths, each with a never-ending queue of noisy bustling impatient customers. Bedlam reigned supreme, but one booth had the magic words “English speaking counter” to which we headed.

I understand that before the Beijing Olympics they  ran special training courses for the Chinese hosts, to teach them how to smile and  be warmly welcoming. These ticket booth operators definitely could use that course. Not a flicker of a smile. Not a hint of welcoming you as a paying customer. Not a suggestion of a ‘gooday mate, how’s your day goin?’ No it was a grim humour-less lot behind those glass walls. Sad to see.

Even more interesting was the sight when we returned to Rach and the kids who had been waiting patiently while we went in search of tickets and money with which to purchase same. There they were, surrounded by a group of about 15 men. I assumed these were touts looking for business, so when I reached Rach I asked her if she had struck up a deal with any of them. ‘No I’ve just been as sociable as I can she replied. Then I learned, these were not touts but just people that wanted a close look at this European family. We have caused a bit of a stir quite often in the past, but this open silent inspection, shoulder to shoulder was bizarre. I was so taken by it, I decided to take a photo of them all. You should have seen them melt away when I pointed a camera at them!

Well we have arrived safely. We are in a delightful hostel with all mod con, at a fraction of Hong Kong prices and eating all sorts of delicacies at the very best of prices! All is well with the world!