China # 6 // OLYMPICS -- An Asian-American-Norwegian (by adoption) in China

I just got back from China, and I haven't slept in over 30 hours. So excuse me if I sound incoherent. I have never felt so American as at the Olympics. There's something about being in a large group of the same screaming countrymen that draws intense patriotism out of you.

We saw the men's 100 M preliminary heats, the hammer throw, and the high jump.

It says USA!

I clamored, I cheered, I cried.

My Norwegian friend Stine, who is AWESOME, had two tickets to the handball finals (handball is not that game we played at recess; google it! it's an insanely intense sport, especially in European countries) and was kind enough to invite me. She had no idea when she got the tickets in Norway that her home country was going to make it to the finals. But they were able to beat (barely) Korea to advance against huge hulking Russians. Russians are intimidating.

To prepare, we painted our faces, with Heia (Go! in Norwegian) on the left cheek and the Norwegian flag on the right cheek.

(I don't know why, but the video plays only 5 seconds of the 16 seconds that it should.)

And Norway won! They crushed those Russians, 34-27.

China # 5 // Horseback Riding and Puling Temple

I have many, many pictures, but too little time and words to fully explain the context and circumstances of the following photographs. Plus, I'm getting lazy.  So I'm just going to post pictures accompanied by a few clarifying sentences; I'm done with my meanderings for now. 

We went on a trip to Inner Mongolia where we went ATV-ing, shot bow-and-arrows, mingled with locals, and went horseback riding (not all at the same time).  It was incredibly insanely fantastically gorgeous. 

While riding our horses, we stumbled upon a newly-wed couple taking advantage of Mongolia's stunning landscape.

Throughout the trip we stayed in these Mongolian homes called "yurts."  Sometimes filthy, sometimes adorable, these yurts kept us cool during the day and warm at night. 

The other half of the trip was spent in a place called Chengde in northern China's Hebei Province.  It was, in 1703, the summer residence of the Kangxi Emperor.  Today, it is home to Puling Temple, a Buddhist Temple that boasts the world's largest wooden statue of Buddha.  Unfortunately, I was unable to take pictures of the Buddha, as doing so presents a great sign of disrespect.

 These scarves were handmade by the monastery's monks.  They are said to bring good luck to the traveler. 

Even though it's a tourist attraction, Puling Temple is still an official monastery, attracting many religious followers and pilgrims.

All this history and culture, no matter what your religious beliefs are, are an undeniably priceless part of China's historical development. 

China # 4 // the great wall

I apologize for the lack of entries.  This time, there is no overbearing government to blame, only myself. I just got back from a trip to Shanghai (shout-out to Katy!), and before that, I was horseback riding on the mountains of Inner Mongolia. But one at a time.  (As you can see, my blogs are extremely backed-up.  They'll be up eventually.) 

First, the Great Wall. A requisite trip for every traveler's itinerary, today's Great Wall of China spans 4,000 miles, making it one of the largest feats of mankind in the history of the world.  It was originally built around 200 BC by Shi Huangdi of the Chin Dynasty to keep out nomadic tribes.  200 BC -- that's 200 years before Christ. 

It's said that at the time of its construction, there were 1 million inhabitants of the nascent nation-state.  Estimates stipulate that 250,000 people, or, a quarter of the population worked on the Great Wall.  Now, according to my sketchy mathematics and questionable analysis, there is a 25% chance that your ancestor (if you're Chinese) worked on the Great Wall.  This notion of ancestry resonated within me throughout the trip.

I had been to the Great Wall once before in my life. It was eight years ago, and that time, vendors, children, tourists littered the wall. This time it was completely different.  Our program director described the visit as a 10k hike to a part of the wall that rarely had visitors. 10k is long, I thought, but it's the Great Wall -- lots of tourists, we'll go slow, it'll be flat, it'll  be OK! I was completely wrong. The hike was grueling, exhausting, punishing: at times regrettable but at times incredible. 10 k is fine, but the Wall kept going up and up and up. 

It was like climbing crumbling collapsing stairs for 10 kilometers.  

 

We were dropped off by bus, to the section of the wall tourists usually do not venture. The section of the Wall we hiked, known as Jinghanling, was prohibited to the general public because of the large number of accidents foreign tourists were receiving. (That day, in fact, a tourist fell and broke his leg and had to be carried away on a stretcher by hired peasants that farmed corn near the wall.) 

But thanks to a new law that prohibits people from suing for accidents originating in China's national historic landmarks, the dangerous portion of the Wall had reopened.  

The 2,000 year old wall was crumbling, broken, and awash in lost memories and forgone pasts.

 Some parts were stolen by peasants that needed to build homes and some parts were stolen by the passages of time. But the Great Wall is so much more than the sum of its parts.

There were other peasants that kept trying to offer to carry our bags or sell us water.

Suffice it to say, the 10k hike was extremely dangerous with absolutely no protection to protect an unassuming traveler from a 20 ft. drop and a swift break to the neck. 

But it was this pure, unadulterated, untainted, unforgiving quality of the wall that made this experience so incredible.  

For miles around, we were the only people to be seen. No obnoxious tour groups, no loud guides, it was complete silence except for the sounds of nature and our tiresome pants. To know that my view may have been the same view of my ancestors, that these mountains were the same ones that occupied this landscape thousands of years ago, that the very brick my feet stood on was laid by my ancestors ... It was surreal.