Rambling Scientist

Myanmar (Burma): Introduction

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 05 Jan 2016 02:42:00 +0000

Myanmar posts are coming*. B. and I just returned from ten days of travel in Myanmar; I'm currently sifting through several thousand photos, picking my favorites. Myanmar is a fascinating country and I haven't yet figured out what story to tell. Do I tell about the "Golden Land", rich with rubies, sapphires, jade, gold, petroleum, and teak? Do I tell about the distant past, about the mighty empires that rose and fell over thousands of years, the battles waged, the gods worshipped? Or about the recent past, about British colonialism -- the fall of the Burmese monarchy, the fracturing of Burmese ethnic groups, the utter destruction wrought by the Japanese invasion during WWII, the fight for independence? Do I tell about the isolationist military regime which strangled Myanmar's growth and development for decades and is now loosening its grip? Or about a people (many peoples) whose spirit endures, endures and flourishes, and who dare to dream of much, much more?

Myanmar is all of these. All of these and more. I encourage you to visit and hear their stories yourself.

In the meantime, here's my Myanmar reading list:

The River of Lost Footsteps: A Personal History of Burma (Thant Myint-U)

Saving Fish from Drowning (Amy Tan)

The Glass Palace (Amitav Ghosh)

Letters from Burma (Aung San Suu Kyi)

* But may take some time. It's back to work tomorrow and, while my US-based clients have been off, my China-based chemists have not. Two weeks of backed up emails are screaming for my attention.

Foods of China: Part III

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 12 Dec 2015 12:42:00 +0000

Americans tend to think of the following as Chinese food: General Tso's chicken, moo shu pork, beef and broccoli, hot and sour soup, and, of course, fortune cookies. While you can find all of these foods in Shanghai, they're available only at Fortune Cookie -- an American-style Chinese restaurant favored by expats and avoided by locals. In reality, Chinese people would find little familiar on that list.

China offers a smorgasbord of different cuisines; each region has its own specialty food. As part of my very sporadic series on food in China (Part I, Part II), I bring you a post from Xi'an's Muslim quarter, a boisterous and delicious street food scene.

This area around the Drum Tower and Beiyuanmen in Xi'an has been home to the city's Muslim community for centuries. Most belong to the Hui ethnic group, descended from Arabic and Persian merchants who made their way to China along the Silk Road as early as the 7th century. Emperor Gaozong of the Tang dynasty officially allowed the practice of Islam in 651 AD. For an interesting commentary on the treatment of Muslim minorities in modern China, see here.

Pork is often the meat of choice in China. In the Muslim areas, though, lamb and beef predominate.
Below: lamb kebabs (yang rou chaunr, 羊肉串)

Potatoes

Dried fruits and nuts

Making huasheng gao (花生糕) -- peanut crisp

Spicy peanuts

Liang pi (凉皮) -- cold noodles

Tofu

hongzao (红枣) -- dried jujubes

pickled garlic. delicious!

Yangrou paomo (羊肉泡馍), crumbled flatbread in lamb stew

Watermelon, jackfruit, cherries, and Buddha-shaped pears

China: Terracotta Warriors

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 11 Dec 2015 14:09:00 +0000

I love trips which combine travel and science.* To visit the terracotta warrior exhibit (兵马俑, bīng mǎ yǒng) in Xi'an is to see discovery in action -- both historically and scientifically, ancient and modern.

How did the terracotta warriors come to be? Qin Shi Huang became the first emperor of China in 221BC by conquering six rival kingdoms to unify China under a single bureaucracy. He then standardized the coins, weights, and measures, the writing system, and the legal code. He interlinked the states with canals and roads, and is credited for building the first version of the Great Wall. He planned to rule forever, sending out search parties for an elixir of immortality. In case that failed (it did. The "elixirs" likely hastened his early death), he planned to rule in death as he had in life, taking all that he might need -- a great necropolis with an army, officers, even acrobats, musicians, and exotic animals -- with him.

Qin Shi Huang began constructing his necropolis when he became emperor. Over 700,000 workers toiled for 11 years to construct the subterranean life-size terracotta army, which was buried with the emperor after his death in 210-209 BC.

And then? The Qin dynasty was not destined to last long. Qin Er Shi, the emperor after Qin Shi Huang, ruled as a puppet for a few short years, a time plagued by internal discord between advisors. He fell in 206 BC to the Han dynasty, which ruled for the next four centuries. The terracotta army, which has silently stood guard over Qin Shi Huang for more than two millenia, were first plundered and desecrated -- some of the figures and ceiling rafters show signs of fire damage; missing weapons were taken to supply real-life armies -- and then forgotten by time.**

In modern times, the existence of the terracotta warriors was unknown; ancient accounts of Qin Shi Huang's tomb make no mention of them. Then, in 1974, fragments were uncovered by farmers digging a well in Lintong district, Xi'an. The terracotta army excavation is considered to be one of the greatest archeological finds of the 20th century. The warrior museum, built shortly after the discovery, now displays the three main excavated pits.

Pit 1 is believed to contain 6,000 warriors; 2,000 are currently on display. At 252 yards long, 68 yards wide, and 16 feet deep, this is the largest pit. One side displays warriors which are largely reconstructed, standing shoulder to shoulder in formation; the other side holds the warrior "hospital", where archeologists work to uncover, preserve, and put together the shattered warriors piece by piece (think Humpty-Dumpty). Spots for thirty-eight horse-driven chariots are scattered through the formation; the terracotta horses remain, marking gaps where wooden chariots once stood.

Pit 2 contains warriors in combat formations that are more complex than Pit 1, including kneeling and standing archers and a chariot war array.

Pit 3 is the command post. Only 68 terracotta figures are present in this grouping, all officials. Interestingly, no commander is present among the officials. It is speculated that Qin Shi Huang would serve as commander, and that no terracotta representation of him could be prepared.

Pit 4, not part of the tour, is reportedly empty -- perhaps unfinished, suggesting that the scale of the necropolis was limited by time and Qin Shi Huang's death rather than his vision.

Accessory pits have also been uncovered in the surrounding area, including three builders' graveyards holding real -- not terracotta -- skeletons. Some of the skeletons show clear stab wounds and signs of hasty burial, indicating that the builders were killed after working on the mausoleum.

There is science at play here -- perhaps more than visitors realize at first glance. The warriors offer some of the greatest insights we have into this period in ancient China and, with science, we can learn about both the processes and the people who created them. The soldiers tell about ancient army formations, in accordance with the ancient directives on the Art of War. The soldiers were originally armed with real weapons -- bronze swords, longbows, arrows, spears, and dagger-axes. Some swords were kept sharp and unrusted for 2000 years by a thin layer of chromium dioxide coating. Modern industrial methods for chrome plating weren't developed until the 1920s!

An account of the production of the tomb was written by historian Sima Qian one century after the mausoleum's completion. According to his account, 100 flowing rivers in the mausoleum were simulated with mercury; high levels of mercury in the soil give credence to this account. For unknown reasons, the original account makes no mention of the terracotta army.

Production of the terracotta warriors included aspects of mass-production -- heads, arms, legs, and torsos were constructed separately and then assembled. The base structure for each warrior was modified to produce figures that were all unique; final figures were signed by the master craftsmen. Researchers now are using the latest analytical chemistry, scanning electron microscopes, and X-ray techniques to learn more about the production techniques used in the creation of the terracotta army. Each warrior bears different facial features and expressions, giving an indication of appearance at that time. Bones recovered from the builders' graveyards have undergone genetic analysis (PLoS One, 23andme), showing that workers were conscripted from all parts of China.

Some faces of the terracotta warriors

Much of the terracotta army remains buried, including Qin Shi Huang's tomb; current archeological efforts are purposefully proceeding slowly. They are waiting for a time when technology and preservation methods have improved. Some progress has been made in this regard. The warriors were originally colorfully and realistically painted. Figures bearing this paint have been uncovered, but the color rapidly fades and flakes when exposed to Xi'an's hot, dry atmosphere. As reported in a top chemistry journal, scientists have discovered ways to preserve the paint using, essentially, superglue to affix the lacquer permanently to the terracotta (Angewante article, New Scientist). Other studies have revealed the chemical composition of the paints.

Remnants of red and yellow paint

As you exit through the gift shop, you are given the opportunity to buy your own life size terracotta warrior replicas. Qin Shi Huang's army of 8,000 has been multiplied many-fold by modern production. And who knows... maybe that terracotta warrior you buy to stand guard in your home will stand by you in the afterlife!

* When we visited Kuang Si Waterfall in Laos, for example, I had to find out why the water was such a striking blue color. Science is everywhere, of course! But we don't always highlight it.

** For another example of forgotten and rediscovered ancient treasures, see Angkor Wat.

China: Xi'an

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 05 Dec 2015 12:06:00 +0000

Xi'an (西安), in Shaanxi (陕西) province, is a city with deep connections to the beginning of China as a unified country. It's also a city with deep connections to the beginning of our China story.

China's story began with this man: Qin Shi Huang (秦始皇, "first emperor of the Qin dynasty"). As king of the state of Qin, he conquered all of the other Warring States and unified China in 221BC. The European name for "China" is thought to be derived from Qin (pronounced "chin"). Rather than maintain the title of "king", Qin Shi Huang styled himself "emperor" -- a title that would be used by the rulers of China for the next two millennia. His capital was located in Xianyang (咸阳), a few kilometers from Xi'an, and is now integrated into the Xi'an metropolitan area.

Qin Shi Huang is perhaps best known outside of China for his terracotta warriors and necropolis -- see the next post for photos.

Part of our China story begins with this woman: Weilei Huang. She, more than anyone else, bridges our Cambridge and Shanghai chapters. Weilei was introduced to B. by his Chinese tutor in Cambridge. She quickly became a part of our lives, with delicious home-cooked Chinese food, Chinese movies, and Chinese family. My very first Chinese sentence, 我吃饱了 -- I'm full!, was acquired and used repeatedly at her table in Cambridge. While Weilei now lives near her children in England, her family in Shanghai has become our Chinese family and our closest Chinese friends.

When Weilei invited us to her home in Xi'an during one of her trips to China, we jumped at the chance to see her and visit Xi'an for the first time. Xi'an is the oldest of the four great ancient capitals of China, the former eastern terminus of the Silk Road. With a population of about 5.5 million people, it is the largest city in northwest China. We stayed with Weilei in her apartment, in a complex for retired army officers (her husband, who passed away many years ago). She and her younger sister remarked on the great changes they've seen in China during their lifetimes -- and how, not so long ago, it would have been unthinkable for them to have foreigners in their home. They also remarked on my Chinese; last time I saw Weilei, I had just started my first Chinese class!

While spending time with Weilei was our top priority on this trip, she arranged a busy program for us covering many of the tourist highlights of Xi'an. Our first, very rainy day found us at the Shaanxi History Museum, which contains artifacts from the neolithic era through the Qing dynasty.

Painted funerary guards of Prince Qinjian of the Ming Dynasty

Statues from the Zhongshan grottoes

When the weather cleared, we went to see the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda (大雁塔), originally built in 652 AD during the Tang dynasty to store translations of Buddhist sutras from India. A nearby square boasts the largest fountain in Asia, with a water show that rises and falls in time to music.

Later, Weilei arranged for a "young friend", a Chinese student and Xi'an native studying in England, to show us around the city. After meandering along the Xi'an city wall, a 14km-long barrier originally built in the 14th century, we wandered through the neighborhoods and explored one of the most important parts of China -- the food! Scenes from the Muslim quarter, with its lively food street, deserve their own post and will follow shortly.

We caught dance rehearsal next to the city wall

Just inside the wall were older-style buildings with convoluted streets.

Outside the wall were high-rises and crazy designs.

Nepal: Chitwan National Park, Sauraha

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 21 Nov 2015 09:07:00 +0000

For a country whose international reputation is dominated by Mount Everest and the Himalayas (right? or maybe it's just me?), Nepal has surprisingly varied geography -- from the lowlands of the Terai to the hill region to the snowy heights of the mountain region.

A chance to see family drew us down from the mountains to the tropical Terai. This region was formerly a thick, extremely malarial jungle; it was said that "plainsmen and paharis generally die if they sleep in the Terai before November 1 or after June 1." Massive amounts of DDT brought malaria under control in the mid-1950s, allowing large parts of the Terai to be cleared and turned into economically-productive regions, now accounting for over fifty percent of Nepal's GDP. While economically advantageous, the settling and resculpting of the Terai has had negative environmental effects (deforestation, increased flooding) and has displaced or disenfranchised the indigenous population. Nepal is aiming for full malaria elimination by 2026, though considerable challenges lie ahead.*

My cousin Jordan spent six months at Sherpa Brewery outside Bharatpur, helping to brew the first craft beer of Nepal. We met up with him near Chitwan National Park, a 932 square kilometer (360 sq mi) World Heritage-listed reserve known for its sizeable wildlife population -- especially tigers, rhinos, and elephants. He brought along some home-brewed beer.

Jordan recommended staying at Rhino Lodge in Sauraha, the town just outside the park. Since we were traveling in the off-season, we rocked up without a reservation. Within 15 minutes of arrival, we had a room (complete with serious mosquito netting), a guide, and were on our way to a guided jungle walk.

The ease of arranging the jungle experience belies its potential dangers. Our guide, a Nepali man not much bigger than me, armed only with a bamboo stick, laid down the basic ground rules: in case of bear, stay still and he'd protect us with his stick by making noise to scare the bear. In case of rhino, run in a zigzag, climb a tree, or hide behind a large tree. Rhinos are huge, powerful, and liable to charge if they feel threatened, but we're more agile. We should be safe from tigers, since they don't frequent that section of the jungle. All of the guides had stories about friends who'd been injured or killed while shepherding tourists through the jungle. Reassuring, right? As tourists swooping in, it's easy to forget that a jungle is not a zoo, and that man is not always the dominant predator. Environments don't necessarily need to be feared, but they should be afforded the proper respect.

Our walk afforded just the right amount of excitement. The guide punted us down the river in a wooden canoe, pointing out crocodiles sunning themselves on the river banks, and monkeys, and birds. In the jungle, we quickly encountered a black bear. "Closer, closer!" the guide motioned, quickly followed by a whispered "Freeze! Now!" and then "Closer! Quietly!". His bamboo stick worked as advertised -- the bear reared up against a tree and stared at us before turning away.

Rhino poaching has historically been a problem in Nepal. The industry is driven by demand for rhino horn for traditional Chinese medicine and has threatened the local rhino population with extinction. The government now stations armed rhino reconnaissance patrols throughout the park to discourage poachers. We used them as rhino locators, asking if they'd had any rhino sightings that day. They directed us further along, to a point where we found a rhino bathing across the river. Great to see, but I was glad for the safety buffer!

Crossing the river into a grassy region, we saw birds and deer before circling through the elephant breeding center on our way out. Some describe jungle outings like fishing: sometimes the fish are biting, and sometimes they're not. Sometimes the animals are out to be seen, and sometimes they're elsewhere in the jungle. We were lucky to see so much within a few hours.

* The Fever: How Malaria Has Ruled Humankind for 500,000 Years by Sonia Shah is a fantastic popular science book about the historical effects of malaria and the challenges of eradication.

France: Versailles and Chartes

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 20 Nov 2015 00:44:00 +0000

This has been a travel-filled year and, true to form, I'm way behind on blog posts. Having just rambled down memory lane to write about Paris, though, I thought I'd post some photos from the rest of that trip to France in August 2010.

From Paris, we took the train to Versailles to see the palace in all of its gilded glory. Sarah's friend Aureline met us for a picnic in the gardens before exploring inside the palace. We spent the night at Aureline's parents' beautiful converted farmhouse near Chartes. Chartes is best known for its Gothic cathedral, which boasts two contrasting spires and stained glass windows dating back to the 13th century. The cathedral is remarkably well-preserved given that it has stood through the French Revolution and two World Wars!

France: Paris

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 16 Nov 2015 14:38:00 +0000

A tribute post to Paris in the aftermath of this weekend's terrorist attacks.

"Peace for Paris" by Jean Jullien

Shanghai lit in solidarity, in the colors of liberté, égalité, and fraternité

When I lived in Cambridge, all of continental Europe lay right across the Channel, ripe for exploring. At that time, though, my sights were set east, to my boyfriend/fiancé/husband (same guy, different time points) in Asia, and west, to my family in the US. Only rarely to the beckoning, not-so-distant shores.

Paris was close -- a mere two hours from London St Pancras to Paris Nord on the Eurostar. In August 2010 (over 5 years ago!), my friend Sarah and I planned a "romantic" weekend getaway for her birthday. B. swooped in from Hong Kong at the last minute and crashed our trip.

Notre Dame

A Parisian labmate, Julien, met us at the train station and showed us around his home turf. While it was my first trip to Paris, the others had already been there and done that. We compromised with a mixture of tourist attractions (Notre Dame, the Louvre), wanderings through everyday life, and as much delicious food as we could handle.

Inside the Louvre

obligatory, if blurry and poorly composed, Eiffel Tower photo

Some places can be traversed in a few days and "checked off", if you will. Paris is not one of them. Paris is an endless experience and an attitude. We'll be back... someday.

Nepal: Sunrise from Sarangkot

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 09 Sep 2015 14:38:00 +0000

This is a post about beautiful sunrises and small worlds.

"Sarangkot? I take you to Sarangkot?" called the taxi drivers each morning, greeting us as jetlag roused us from our beds and sent us out to explore the dark, quiet pre-sunrise streets of Pokhara. Sarangkot, a village of 5,000 on a mountainside ridge, is famous for its panoramic view of Himalayan peaks. On day three, after a quick negotiation, we took them up on the offer.

Pokhara valley at dawn, waiting for sunrise

At Sarangkot village proper, people crowd together on roofs to watch the majestic interplay of stone and water and light. Fortuitously, we never made it that far. Having set out slightly late, our taxi driver pointed us up a set of stone steps, to a grassy outcropping below the town. Same view; fewer people.

Shades and layers of the new sunrise

The earth rotated. The sun rose.

The mountain tops, standing far above the darkened valley, were picked out by the sun and painted in golden hues.

And then the valley too was basked in light. The morning mists began to rise, slowly obscuring the giants behind a curtain of white.

The other people on this little overlook, watching the sun rise over the Himalayas, happened to be a Chinese group on a photo tour. We helped them take a group photo (many group photos -- every person wanted one with their own camera), entertained the usual range of questions as Chinese-speaking foreigners, and then asked one of them to take a few photos of us. The whole group joined in, paparazzi-style, directing us to pose and kiss and jump.

Nepal: Parahawking!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 08 Aug 2015 05:44:00 +0000

There's one adventure sport that you can do in Pokhara, and nowhere else in the world: parahawking.

Which is to say, paragliding with a trained hawk (actually Egyptian vulture, but "paravulturing" doesn't sound quite as good). Literally soaring with the birds. It's precisely as awesome as it sounds.

How did parahawking come to be? About 15 years ago, a British graphic designer named Scott Mason, languishing in his London office, longed for something more. Through a series of strange events, he landed in Nepal and started a paragliding business. He was also an avid falconer and bird trainer. And so The Parahawking Project was born. The hawks' reward for their service is chunks of raw buffalo, which they eat out of your hand (or glove, since they could rip your hand off) as you gently ride the thermals, floating over the stunning Pokhara Valley, surrounded by the snow-capped Himalayas. The birds (Bob and Kevin) are rescues who, having imprinted on humans, are unable to be returned to the wild. While "our" bird seemed plenty big, we also saw several wild griffon vultures cruising around, whose wingspan compared favorably to the size of our paragliders.

Kevin

Bob. He was a very chill bird in the car ride up.

The Parahawking Project is part adventure sport, part conservation and education effort. As scavengers, vultures play a vital role in our ecosystem. Without them, dead animal corpses rot, contaminating drinking water, and populations of other scavengers like rats and feral dogs explode, spreading diseases such as rabies, anthrax, and plague to humans. And yet, the vulture populations of Asia have been decimated by the use of a drug called diclofenac, an anti-inflammatory used to alleviate the pain and suffering of dying livestock. The vultures are unable to process the drug; they die within 24 hours of eating from the carcasses of treated animals. The impact of the vulture crisis are particularly stark in India, with its huge human population, over 99% decrease in vulture population, and sanctification of cows. The resulting public health crisis has cost billions of dollars to date. While the veterinary version of diclofenac has been banned, the human version is still widely and cheaply available. For a fuller description of the epidemic, see here and here.

The Parahawking Project participates in the Himalayan Raptor Rescue project, which rescues, rehabilitates, and returns many birds to the wild each year. Mason also helped establish the Ghochowk Vulture Restaurant, a safe vulture feeding site near Pokhara.

Nepal: Pokhara III

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 09 Jul 2015 01:18:00 +0000

As we descended from the Peace Pagoda, we found ourselves in Pokhara proper, away from the tourist haven of Lakeside and amongst everyday Nepali life. There, we stumbled across the entrances to Devi's Falls and the Gupteshwor Mahadev Cave. Both were worth visiting in passing, I think, but wouldn't have been worth a trip of their own.

The name of Devi's Falls comes from a story about a Swiss tourist named David (or Daniel) (and/or his girlfriend/wife Devi, or Mrs. Devi) who tumbled down a sinkhole and died (or not). The accident led to the discovery of the falls, which plummet 100 feet below ground into a cave. The true details of the story have been been lost to the mists of time and the garbling of the internet. The waters continue to fall.

The base of Devi's Falls can be seen in Gupteshwor Mahadev Cave, which is also known for a huge stalagmite venerated as a Shiva lingam. Musty passageways lead deeper and deeper into the cave, and eventually open into a large cavern. There, the waterfall, lit by sunlight filtering in from above and framed by the dark inner cavern walls, confounds legions of camera-bearing tourists.

Nepal: Pokhara II

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 29 Jun 2015 00:27:00 +0000

Pokhara is known as the gateway to the Annapurna Circuit. Its popularity stems not only from its natural beauty, but also from its position as the starting point for many treks through the mountains and villages of the Annapurna Conservation Area. Three of the ten highest mountains in the world -- Dhaulagiri, Annapurna I and Manaslu -- lie in this range, within 30 miles (as the crow flies, not as the hiker hikes!) of Pokhara.

Lacking time for a proper trek, we settled for exploring the region through day hikes from Pohkara. A short 3.2 mile hike from Lakeside, starting with a relaxing boat ride across Phewa Lake, leads up to the World Peace Pagoda.

Pokhara's World Peace Pagoda, also known as Shanti Stupa, is one of about 80 Peace Pagodas built worldwide. Most have been constructed by the Nipponzan-Myōhōji Buddhist order, which started building peace pagodas in response to the devastating aftermath of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. They aim to spread the message of world peace to all people.

The white, two-tiered Peace Pagoda stands 115 feet tall and 344 feet in diameter. The second tier displays four statues of Buddha, presented by four different countries. Sitting at the top of Ananda hill, the World Peace Pagoda offers beautiful views of Pokhara and the surrounding area.

While our hike up involved mostly stairs, we took the longer route down. Scattered houses dotted the bright green, terraced slopes of rice paddies. The path down also took us past Devi's Falls and the Gupteshwor Mahadev Cave -- post coming soon!

Nepal: Pokhara

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 20 Jun 2015 04:35:00 +0000

Dragon Boat Festival comes again. While most of my colleagues have headed back to their hometowns for our lone summer holiday, B. and I are relaxing in Shanghai. Last year, we took a day trip to Suzhou; this year, we're enjoying a quiet moment in the midst of our summer storm of visitors. (Definitely not a complaint! Just means that life is a bit busier than usual.) While I should really be working on writing a chemistry paper, this seems like an apt time to catch up on writing about our Chinese New Year travels to Nepal. Posts about Xi'an, Tokyo, and Chengdu/Emeishan are also forthcoming!

When B. and I booked plane tickets for Nepal in February, we braced ourselves for frigid cold -- like Christmas in South Dakota cold. We were very pleased to discover that the valleys of Nepal are actually quite temperate, even in February. With predicted highs around 70F / 22C, I packed some layers, bought new hiking boots, and left my proper winter coat at home.

Pokhara, as I alluded to in last post, is charming. The tourist area is concentrated around Lakeside, away from the everyday hustle and bustle of the city. From breakfast on the roof of our hotel, we looked out at Phewa lake, the Peace Pagoda, the swarming paragliders and, when the clouds lifted, the peaks of the Annapurna mountain range.

The main drag of tourist-Pokhara is lined with shop after shop, selling outdoor gear, adventures, a world of cuisine. Everything you could want or need to explore the region, available in English at a moment's notice, without any oppressive hawking or overbearing tourist-ness. Brightly colored prayer flags and boats accented the natural beauty. It's a rare traveler's paradise.

While Nepal is a newer tourist destination for Chinese travelers, it's growing in popularity every year.
Many of the store signs now feature Chinese translations.

The one above comically adds "You're good (Hello), I'm good, Price is good"

Natural organic products! Just like my PhD project, right?

We spent a fair amount of time wandering around the lake, enjoying the scenery and stopping occasionally to sample different cuisines. We ducked out of the rain and ate some fantastic Middle Eastern food. B. took a particular liking to Nepali (Tibetan) salty butter tea, a combination of heat, water, caffeine, salt, and fat (traditionally yak butter) which is well-suited to life in the Himalayas.

During early morning strolls starting in the pre-dawn hours (thanks, jetlag!), we luxuriated in the still, peaceful quietness -- a dramatic change from life in our bustling city of 24 million people. Sunrise bathed the hills and lake in beautiful morning light; the mountains behind played coy, shrouded in clouds, occasionally peeking through to show white mountain against white sky. A sunrise trip to Sarangkot would reveal the mountains in their full glory.

This post is photo-heavy enough, so I'll hold description of our other activities around Pokhara -- a hike to the Peace Pagoda, to Devi's Falls and the Gupteshwor Mahadev Cave, a sunrise trip to Sarangkat, and parahawking(!) -- for later. Instead, I'll close with a series of boats and cows.

Nepal: Kathmandu Airport (KTM)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 29 Mar 2015 12:58:00 +0000

During Chinese New Year, the bustling city of Shanghai empties out. The sky fills with fireworks above quiet streets while booming explosions reverberate off the apartment towers. Having spent the past two Chinese New Years with friends in Shanghai, we decided to join the exodus this year and headed west to Nepal.

We flew in and out of Kathmandu (KTM), Nepal's only international airport, but spent no time in the city itself. The urban area of Kathmandu*, which is the capital and largest city in Nepal, is home to about 2.5 million people -- one twelfth of the nation's total population. (The population of Nepal is about the same as that of Shanghai.) From my very brief impression, Kathmandu is dusty and polluted -- suffering the inevitable fate of an area with more people than its infrastructure and electrical and water resources can support, especially one relying on "dirty" energy sources like wood, coal, and diesel. Nepal has continuous rolling brownouts throughout the country, which they call "load shedding".

This post, however, is not about Kathmandu, the city. It's about the domestic terminal of the Kathmandu airport, which charmed us to no end.

We were dropped us off by a fence and pointed to a broken sidewalk leading into a construction site. "Go that way," said the driver. A collection of baggage carts sat by the corner; a sign tacked to the fence said "Domestic Terminal Building". Monkeys scampered overhead. Several other foreigners headed up the path. We followed.

The path led us through the bones of what will be the new domestic terminal at KTM, currently very much under construction. The air traffic control tower and international terminal were visible across the way.

Another doorway led us into the current domestic terminal, a warehouse-type room where check-in desks for each airline (Yeti Air, Buddha Air, Sita Air, Nepal Air -- all little domestic carriers) sat side-by-side. Yeti Airlines issued us handwritten paper tickets and sent us through the security check (separated by gender, as in India) to wait.

And wait we did. Due to prevailing weather conditions (morning fog), pollution (haze), and challenging terrain (due to its location in the Himalayas), lengthy delays are not uncommon. Still, in a mountainous country with winding roads, our 25 minute flight would have meant a 6+ hour bus ride. The waiting crowd grew as we all waited for flights to begin taking off. Most were foreigners, decked out in hardcore outdoor gear and hiking boots. Several groups were waiting for flights to a destination marked only as "Mountain" -- the small airport closest to Everest base camp. That airport, in Lukla, is famously one of the most perilous in the world.

After twenty-five minutes in the air on a little prop plane, we deplaned in Pokhara. Pokhara, the second largest city in Nepal (population: 260,000), features another adorable airport and stunning scenery -- more posts to come!

* The Kathmandu urban area is technically an agglomeration of Kathmandu, Lalitpur, and Bhaktapur, which all sit in the Kathmandu valley.

India: Kolkata (Calcutta)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 07 Mar 2015 06:27:00 +0000

Kolkata: street markets, street food, lots of colors, and a pile of puppies. Also gorgeous wedding events... but we left the camera at home for those.

Kolkata wasn't a typical tourist destination for us. I spent most of the time on bridesmaid duty while B. went out to do some exploring and lots of eating. What we saw was more "neighborhood life" than "tourist highlights". I'll let the photos speak for themselves!

India: No hablo Indian Airport

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 15 Jan 2015 06:45:00 +0000

I consider myself to be fluent in airport. Give me a passport, a plane ticket, and a credit card, and I'll feel at home at pretty much any airport in the world. (It helps that English is the international language of aviation.)

Indian airports, however, seem to speak a dialect I've never encountered before.

Flying through four Indian airports in a week (Shanghai to DEL to CCU to BOM to IDR to DEL to Shanghai*) gave us plenty of exposure to their quirks. Two experiences in particular stand out: processing our visas on arrival in Delhi, and flying domestic ("domestic") on Air India from Delhi to Kolkata.

Visa on arrival
India, sadly, does not fall into the list of 160+ countries where Americans can travel without a visa. Right before our trip, though, they started offering visa on arrival for Americans. Perfect! No need to find the Indian embassy in Shanghai! We applied online (note: you still need to apply online before travel to India, unlike VOA in some other countries), paid the fee, and were approved within 24 hours. Easy peasy.

When we landed at the airport in Delhi, though, things were... not so organized. Suffice it to say, visa on arrival for Americans is *so* new that the systems to process it were literally being put in place around us -- down computers, dizzying amounts of off-gassing, and all. After a half-hour group effort by the immigration officials, all huddled around one computer to navigate the system, B.'s visa was successfully processed, his passport stamped. He did a little dance. The waiting crowd broke out in applause. Ten minutes later, mine was successfully processed too and we were on our way. We were two of the first people to pass through the new Delhi visa on arrival center.

Growing pains at the New Delhi airport
The New Delhi airport (DEL) has two terminals. Colloquially, they're known as the domestic terminal and the international terminal. At one point, perhaps not so long ago, those qualifiers may have been accurate. Now, however, they're not. When flying through the Delhi airport, all belief in accurate signage and logic must be suspended (except when it shouldn't).

Thus, despite the fact that we were flying domestic to Kolkata, our Air India flight departed from the international terminal (as do all Air India flights these days). After check-in, we -- incorrectly -- waited in the domestic departures security line (still in the international terminal), only to be sent over to the international side... where an airport official had to wave us around the immigration booths, since we were not actually leaving India. And upon landing in Kolkata, we found ourselves in international arrivals where, confusingly, we were made to clear customs... despite having come from Delhi.

Some other quirks for the uninitiated:

Entering the airport: In this age of online booking and mobile internet, B. and I rarely print out our flight info or e-tickets anymore -- we just rock up at the check-in counter, hand over our passports, tell them our destination, and everything works out. In India, though, armed soldiers guard the airport entrances, restricting access to those who could prove they were flying that day. Print your itinerary!

Carry-on luggage: Not so much an issue as an iteration I hadn't seen before: when carry-on luggage was screened by security, it was tagged and stamped. The stamped tags were checked again just before boarding the plane to make sure nothing had snuck through unscreened.

Flight delays: Indian airlines have a notoriously bad on-time record, especially when traveling through foggy (smoggy) Delhi during the winter. From Nov 2014 to Jan 2015, Air India boasted a paltry 58% on-time rating for its top 20 routes. Our three Air India flights were delayed for an average of 5 hours -- luckily, we *just* made our connection on the way back. For those traveling in India in the future, our Indian friends say that IndiGo has the best on-time rating (89% to Air India's 58%, flying many of the same routes).

Connections: I couldn't tell you exactly what the problem was with our connecting flights. I think it's a problem of poor airport design (or at least poor for how they're used now) plus poor signage and slow lines. Suffice it to say, connections were much slower and more complicated than they needed to be. Finding the gate for our connecting flight in Mumbai felt like a scavenger hunt!

Announcements: Delhi, Kolkata, and Mumbai are all silent airports. None of the loud announcements exhorting passengers to prepare for the pre-boarding process. I'm a fan.

Final takeaway: when flying in India, leave extra time, bring patience and a sense of humor, and go with the flow. You'll get there eventually.

* DEL = New Delhi. CCU = Kolkata (formerly Calcutta). BOM = Mumbai (formerly Bombay). IDR = Indore.

India: Taj Mahal

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 11 Jan 2015 02:15:00 +0000

Not a piece of architecture, as other buildings are, but the proud passions of an emperor’s love wrought in living stones.
- Edwin Arnold in: Shefali Patel A Penchant for Love

The Taj Mahal hardly needs an introduction. It is framed in countless photos, has been described in countless words. The image of its domed white marble structure is unmistakeable, its place in the love story of Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal well-known. Like the Mona Lisa, it's familiar to all who visit.

Was it worth the trip in person? Oh, absolutely. Even more than I expected. The picture-perfect postcards fail to capture how appreciation for the Taj Mahal builds progressively over a visit.

While it seems strange to say about a site that's visited by millions of tourists a year, the Taj Mahal sits in layers of seclusion. The outermost ring marks the halt of motorized vehicles, kept away to try and minimize the effects of air pollution on the striking white marble. Cross this line and you're greeted by idle camels, waiting to carry tourists inward. We opted to walk instead, pausing to pick up tickets and shoe coverings (for when you ascend the square plinth, to help protect the white marble from dirty shoes), and again for security screening (separate lines for men and women, with a long list of prohibited items).

The path inward leads to a large gate of red sandstone and contrasting white marble, decorated with flowers of inlaid gemstones. Through this gate, you first see the Taj Mahal, perfectly symmetrically framed, rising in the distance, shrouded in mist. It is an approach carefully curated to maximize awe and appreciation.

The Taj Mahal looks just like the iconic photos. And yet, until you're there, you can't fully appreciate its scale, its majesty. It is unexpectedly extraordinary and breathtaking.

The Taj sits as the centerpiece of a garden complex, flanked by two identically-built mosques, with lines of manicured shrubs and a reflecting pool inextricably leading the eye forward to it. It is built in nearly perfect symmetry. Nothing but sky is visible behind it; the ground behind dips to the banks of the Yamuna River. The Taj Mahal reveals itself differently in different lighting; we were blessed with fog that lifted to beautifully-filtered sunlight as we entered.

Our tour guide said that Shah Jahan intended to build a second "Taj" across the river as his own tomb, identical except in black marble, a partner to the white marble tomb of his beloved wife Mumtaz Mahal. The internet suggests this is a myth, though an attractive one.

Walking around the outside of the Taj Mahal reveals it to be a highly geometric building, with visually pleasing angles and symmetry. Despite all the photos, I'd never realized that the Taj Mahal is octagonal -- a cube with chamfered corners. The four minarets give it a sense of scale and 3D structure from afar. They stand at a slight angle, designed to fall outward if they should ever collapse. The structure was constructed to stand the tests of time and nature, with a well foundation to help stabilize it during earthquakes.

After appreciating the Taj Mahal as a whole, approaching brings out the fine details. The giant vaulted archways are adorned with flowers which are not painted, but constructed with semi-precious gemstones. Each piece was handcrafted and inlaid in the marble. Framing these are verses from the Koran, also inlaid. It took thousands of artisans and craftsmen over twenty years (1632 - 1653) to construct the Taj Mahal -- an unthinkable amount of man-hours and material cost.

Notice how a flower can be composed of multiple pieces, each of which must be shaped separately and exactingly. While the stones can withstand nature and time, they do not always survive interactions with man.

(see the missing flower in the lower right)

The inside of the structure is more intricately decorated, with the marble cenotaph (empty tomb) of Mumtaz Mahal sitting dead center, and that of Shah Jahan off to one side; their bodies are interred below, at garden level. We entered the inner sanctum with a crush of tourists, circled the cenotaphs with the ogling and photographing masses, and then were spit out the other side.

We ended our visit by sitting and quietly contemplating the Taj, before walking away with one last glance back. I left with a tinge of sadness, an air of finality. You can only first see the majesty of the Taj Mahal once in your life. If we do return, it will be many years from now. Hopefully the Taj Mahal will make it through the years untarnished by the pollution which threatens it.

Note: I've glossed over many of the details about the structure and history of the Taj Mahal to focus on the experience of visiting. For more information about the Taj and the effects of pollution, there's a good article in Smithsonian Magazine from 2011 (link).

India: Agra II

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 03 Jan 2015 02:53:00 +0000

Note: I've split this trip into three posts. While the Taj Mahal is the site that draws millions of tourists to Agra each year, it's not the only thing in town to see.

After spending a cold, foggy morning at Agra Fort, we stopped for lunch. Food -- both copious and delicious -- was a common theme on this trip. Care should always be taken when eating in India, though, and especially when drinking water (bottled only, avoid ice cubes), lest you fall victim to Delhi Belly!

Our last stops in Agra (after a visit to the Taj Mahal!) were to see two traditional industries: hand-knotted carpets and marble inlaid with semi-precious stones. Both industries in Agra receive significant government support, in part to try and offset the loss of other traditional polluting industries, like iron foundries, which had been ordered to clean up or move away. Air and water pollution continue to take their toll on the Taj Mahal. Despite the opulence of the Taj Mahal and the millions of tourists who flow through Agra each year, the common people in Agra are extremely poor.

Carpets

I never properly appreciated before that hand-knotted carpets require someone to sit and, well, hand-tie all those knots. A large carpet requires several people working in tandem, dedicating several months of their lives; the quality of a carpet is judged by the number of knots per square inch. I can see why carpets -- especially before machine processes were invented -- are so expensive! Given the amount of work involved, the prices in Agra were surprisingly affordable.

According to our guide, carpet-making is traditionally a family industry in Agra. Each family will only ever make one pattern of carpet, memorizing the intricate patterns and then tying knots at amazingly fast speeds. When multiple people work in tandem, they sing the colors to each other to stay in sync. The families pick up cashmere or silk yarn from the store, and then return with the finished carpets.

Cashmere and silk yarn storage

Inlaid Marble

Parts of Agra Fort and the entirety of the Taj Mahal are decorated with white marble inlaid with semi-precious gemstones. To make these, each piece of gem is hand-sculpted, its setting carved in marble, the fit checked, and then the gem secured. It's a labor-intensive process performed on a small-scale today. Decorating a building the size of the Taj Mahal like this is practically unthinkable!

The white marble is stained with henna to make it easier to visualize. After all of the gemstones have been inlaid, the henna is washed away to reveal the white marble.

Tables, coasters, chess sets, bowls, cups, and carved elephants available for purchase

An example of inlaid flowers at Agra Fort. This is one of the simpler designs!

India: Agra I

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 03 Jan 2015 02:46:00 +0000

B. and I spent a highly-anticipated week in India around Christmas, drawn there to celebrate the marriage of two of my high school friends. The wedding was a beautiful, joyous, and fascinating week-long affair across two cities (Kolkata and Indore). With only a day to spare for touristy outings, we made a pilgrimage to India's ultimate tourist site: the Taj Mahal in Agra, Uttar Pradesh.

Note: I've split this trip into three posts. While the Taj Mahal is the site that draws millions of tourists to Agra each year, it's not the only thing in town to see.

We set out from New Delhi early in the morning to make the 3-ish hour drive to Agra. The Yamuna (aka Taj) Expressway, a 6-lane highway which opened in 2012, now connects the two cities and has made the formerly arduous trek to Agra into a convenient day trip.

Entrance to Agra Fort via the Amar Singh Gate, protected by double walls and a formerly crocodile-infested moat.
The original and grandest entrance was through the Delhi Gate, which is unfortunately now closed to the public.

Having lived in China for two years, I don't really believe in fog anymore -- all reduced visibility is assumed to be air pollution until proven otherwise. New Delhi has serious air pollution problems which rival (and often exceed) those of Beijing but, as the drive proved, it also has serious fog. Visibility on the road dropped to mere meters (umm.... yards, for readers back home). Aside from when we swerved to narrowly avoid hitting a plastic roadblock, though, our cab driver didn't even blink at the driving conditions. According to him, it's standard for this time of year.

The Jahangiri Mahal, the principal palace for women belonging to the royal household, seen through the fog.
The palace was built by Emperor Akbar as a token of love for his son Jahangir. Jahangir reportedly had a harem of 800 women.

Arriving in Agra in such heavy fog, we were afraid that we'd visit the Taj without being able to see it. Accordingly, we made Agra Fort, also known as the Red Fort of Agra, our first visit of the day. Agra Fort is a UNESCO World Heritage site. A fort has stood at that location since at least the 11th century; the present-day red sandstone fort, better called a walled imperial city, was built in 1565 by the Mughal emperor Akbar.

In case your Indian history is as fuzzy as mine, here's a quick cast of characters for this period. Each emperor ruled over a fascinating period of favorite sons and wives, rebellions (sometimes by said favorite sons, occasionally successful), court intrigue, and empire-expanding wars, as well as patronage of culture and complicated religious relations.

Akbar the Great (1542 – 1605), the third and one of the greatest emperors of the Mughal Dynasty in India.
begat Jahangir (1569 – 1627). Akbar's eldest surviving son and declared successor from an early age, Jahingir revolted against his father and was defeated in 1599. He ultimately ascended the throne upon Akbar's death in 1605, due to strong support from the women of Akbar's harem.
begat Shah Jahan (1594 – 1666), chosen as successor to the throne after the death of his father. Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal as a tomb for his beloved wife Mumtaz Mahal.
begat Aurangzeb (1618 – 1707), whose imperial name was Alamgir ("world-seizer or universe-seizer"). After deposing his father in a coup in 1658, he ruled over most of the Indian subcontinent for 49 years. The Mughal empire came to a peak under Aurangzeb, and declined rapidly after his death.

Entranceway to the Jahangiri Mahal.

Our tour guide told us that the dot in the middle means that those are not, in fact, Jewish stars.

Intricate carvings in the red sandstone walls. These have been restored in many places.

The fort was well-defended by a crocodile-infested moat, double outer walls that stood over 20 meters in height and 2.5km in circumference, choke points and inclines to halt armies and elephants, among other defense mechanisms.

Abul Fazl, a court historian for Akbar, recorded that some 5000 buildings were built in Agra Fort in Bengali and Gujarati style. Few of these buildings stand today. Some were demolished by Shah Jahan (Jahangir's son and successor, who also built the Taj Mahal) and replaced with white marble buildings, inlaid with gold and semi-precious gems like the Taj. He transformed the fort from a military garrison into a palace; it later became his gilded prison after his son Aurangzeb seized power in 1658. Later, the British destroyed most of the buildings to build barracks. Much of the fort is still in use by the military (Indian now) and, as such, is off limits to the general public.

The white marble is decorated with inlaid gold and semi-precious gems. Each flower and swirl is hand-crafted and composed of multiple pieces. Completing all of the decoration would have taken the work of many artisans over many years.

On the far side of a large courtyard, along the eastern wall of the fort, are the Diwan-i-Am (Hall of Public Audiences) and Diwan-i-Khas (Hall of Private Audiences). The large open hall was used for receiving petitioners -- a communications ground between the public and aristocracy. Shah Jahan’s legendary Peacock Throne, which was inset with precious stones including the famous Koh-i-noor diamond (now part of the British crown jewels), was once housed here. The throne was seized as a war trophy in 1739 and has been lost ever since.

Keep reading for Agra, part II!

Arizona: Sedona

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 26 Oct 2014 03:45:00 +0000

While Christmas-ing in Phoenix, we took a day trip to beautiful Sedona, 120 miles north. Sedona is famous for its colorfully striated canyons, mesas, and rock formations, all steeped in hues of red and orange. At the right time of day, the landscape glows majestically through beautifully filtered sunlight.

Sedona owes its grandeur to the whims of time, geology, and, of course, chemistry. The area of Sedona was once covered with sand dunes, which solidified over time into sandstone. Rivers flooded with iron-rich water deposited iron in the sandstone; upon exposure to air, iron oxidizes into crimson-red iron oxide. All of this would remain deep below the surface, buried remnants of geological times past, if not for the effects of uplift and erosion. Today, layers of sedimentary rock that represent over 300 million years of geological history can be seen in the Sedona area; to a geologist, they provide glimpses long-gone ecosystems and environments, bearing witness to the past.

This sinkhole is called the Devil's Kitchen in Soldier's Pass. The giant rock in the center is called the Grand Piano.

Arizona: Phoenix

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 26 Oct 2014 03:43:00 +0000

Summertime in Shanghai is hot and humid. Now*, in the midst of the rainy season (late this year, I've been told), the perpetual frizziness of my hair is a testament to the high humidity. Temperatures have been in the high 70s to low 90s Fahrenheit recently* (23-33 C, slightly warmer than NY), but the real summer heat won't set in until the rains end.

With life relatively stationary (and visitor-filled!) at the moment, and work busy but not quite blog-worthy, I thought I'd reach back in the travel archive to a cool, dry period: Christmas 2013 in the Arizona desert.

We tend to look beyond our borders -- whether town, state, or region -- for exotic, beautiful, and relaxing experiences. I'm guilty of it now, where everyday life in Shanghai sounds exciting to some but rarely makes it on my blog. Our recent US domestic trips, though, destinations of convenience rather than bucket lists, have reminded me to look within as well. There is great beauty to be found inside our borders.

We met up with my family for Christmas 2013 in Phoenix. The Marriott Canyon Villas at Desert Ridge served as our home base for exploring the Valley of the Sun. (Fun fact: Phoenix is now the sixth most populous city in the US. Who knew?! It's large and diffuse, with a relatively low population density.) Thanks to jetlag, B. and I spent many a morning cuddling and watching Sherlock on Netflix, breakfasting quietly without waking my siblings, and then sneaking out for sunrise walks on the golf course and early morning checks to see if Delta had finally decided to deliver our bags. (From LAX, Delta sent our bags to PDX -- Portland -- instead of PHX -- Phoenix.)

Before this trip, I'd spent little time in the desert. I've seen lakes, rivers, waterfalls; mountains, rainforests, temperate forests; grassy rolling hills and flat plains. The desert, for all its inhospitality, for its extreme temperature swings, lack of water, spiny plants and poisonous creatures, is startlingly beautiful. In this harsh environment, survival is key. It's each plant and animal for itself.

“Water, water, water.... There is no shortage of water in the desert but exactly the right amount, a perfect ratio of water to rock, water to sand, insuring that wide free open, generous spacing among plants and animals, homes and towns and cities, which makes the arid West so different from any other part of the nation. There is no lack of water here unless you try to establish a city where no city should be.”
― Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire: A Season in the Wilderness

Driving through Sonoran desert region, we saw stark ground studded with little cacti and towering saguaros, all coated with spines -- some big, resembling nightmare-ish needles, others tiny, seemingly fur-like, but prickly and painful nonetheless. We pulled off the side of the road and walked quietly, meditatively into the desert.

Our adventures around Phoenix took us up Piestewa Peak, the second highest point in Phoenix mountains, and to the Hole in the Rock at Papago Park which, true to its name, is a large hole in a rock.

At Rooster Cogburn Ostrich Ranch in Picacho, Arizona, we fed donkeys, deer, goats and kids, prairie dogs, ostriches, and birds.

And then, after marveling at Biosphere 1 (i.e. Earth), we took a trip to Biosphere 2, the research facility famous for its extended experiments on closed biospheres for space colonization. During "Mission 1" and "Mission 2" in the early 1990s, researchers were sealed inside for extended periods of time to live in an entirely self-sufficient environment. The glass vivarium is now owned by the University of Arizona, and is operated as an open system to explore the web of interactions between different biomes.

Biosphere 2 photo from Wikipedia. Delta had my camera.

We also took a day trip to Sedona -- see the next post for photos.

* When I drafted this, in late June. Not when I'm posting, in late October. Whoops.

China: Hangzhou Bay Wetland Center, Cixi, Ningbo

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 29 Jun 2014 00:51:00 +0000

Head south from Shanghai and you'll hit Hangzhou Bay; following the water inland along the Qiantang River leads, aptly, to the city of Hangzhou. In the past, a trip from Shanghai to Ningbo (nearly due south, just across Hangzhou Bay) required driving southwest -- nearly to Hangzhou -- to cross a bridge, and then tacking back southeast toward the coast. Then, in May 2008, the Hangzhou Bay Bridge (hángzhōu wān dàqiáo, 杭州湾大桥) opened to the public. This bridge is 22 miles long (one of the longest trans-oceanic bridges in the world!), and cut the driving time from Shanghai to Ningbo by two to three hours, providing a much more direct route across the water. Built in an area known for some of the highest tidal forces on the planet, extremely strong winds during typhoon season, and earthquakes, the bridge is a feat of Chinese engineering. It spent 10 years under design and 4 years under construction. The toll to cross is 80 RMB (not quite $13 USD).

Crossing the bridge lands you in Zhejiang province. At this point, my geography (or, rather, my understanding of Chinese geographical classifications) gets a bit hazy. You're in the city of Cixi (cíxī, 慈溪), which is located in the sub-provincial city of Ningbo (níngbō, 宁波). It's about a one hour drive from there to Ningbo (proper?).

Cixi has an incomprehensibly long history (at least from a short American perspective), leading back to the State of Yue in the Spring and Autumn period of the Zhou Dynasty (770BC - 476BC); Ningbo has an even longer history, dating to Hemudu culture in 4800 BC (no, I didn't accidentally add an extra zero). We stopped in Cixi for several hours to check out the Hangzhou Bay Wetland Park.

Hangzhou Bay Wetland Park has a three-fold aim: environmental preservation, environmental education, and waste water management. Its creation was supported by the Global Environment Fund and World Bank. The 330 hectare area features different wetland habitats, with walking paths, boat tours, and educational centers. It is, impressively, largely man-made on reclaimed coastal land. The wetland is a hotspot for migratory birds in the winter. It's role in the purification of waste water -- not obvious except for the explanatory signs -- helps provide clean water to the residents of Cixi and Ningbo. To quote the World Bank:

"The constructed wetlands at both wastewater plants in Cixi City enhanced the final effluent quality to Class IA standards, demonstrating the feasibility of using constructed wetlands for tertiary treatment at lower costs. Municipal leaders from around China have visited the site to learn from this experience and are adopting the approach in new projects."

The sign reads:

"Nenuphar Lake is one of the Ten Scenic Spots in the Wetland. It lies in the Engineering Wetland, which is characterized by the purification of sewage through the wetland's flora ecological system. The sewage purifier has the shape of the Chinese character for kidney, which implies "kidney in nature". The chief plants for the purification work are nenuphar, cattail, thalia dealbata, and so on and so forth. When the flowers of the plants are in full bloom, the lake is as smooth as a mirror. Enchanting flowers in the mirror constitute a rare and glamorous splendor of characteristic plants in wetland."

Living in China, in the mega-cities that dominate the east coast, it's rare to have experiences to connect with nature in daily life. Big, open spaces are quickly paved over, replacing flowers and trees with apartment complexes and industrial parks at an alarming rate. We joke that the only big, open areas for people to gather are inside shopping malls -- a trend supported both by development* and by a desire to limit open areas where people could gather and protest. It's heartening, then, to see the undertaking of such a huge project in the other direction, reclaiming the wetland environment before it disappears entirely.

Her first outing in China!

* China covers roughly the same land mass as the US, and is home to more than four times as many people (roughly 1.4 billion vs 330 million). They all need to live somewhere and work somewhere; the growth and development of the cities and manufacturing sector in China since 1981 has lifted more than 600 million people out of extreme poverty, bringing forth the largest growth of the middle class in history. That middle class is now growing increasingly, vocally concerned about environmental issues. It'll be interesting to watch the Chinese government try to balance the needs of the economy with the needs of the environment and the demands of the people.

China: Yangmei Picking in Ningbo

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 22 Jun 2014 11:58:00 +0000

Yangmei berries! Are you excited? You should be... at least if you live in Asia. If you don't, you're missing out on some serious deliciousness. (Come visit!)

June in Shanghai means yangmei berry (yángméi, 杨梅) season. The deep red globular fruit appears suddenly and floods the street corners and wet markets, only to disappear again a few short weeks later. With yearly availability limited to about a month, it is a short-lived but highly-anticipated treat.

The yangmei berry, also known as the Chinese bayberry, waxberry, Chinese strawberry, and, more recently, "yumberry", grows on the Myrica rubra tree in the hot, humid climate of Zhejiang province (just south of Shanghai). The berries are akin to ping pong balls in shape and size, with a bumpy, modular outside (like a raspberry) and a cherry pit at the core. They range from crimson to dark purple in color; the darker berries are sweeter while the brighter ones are more tart and astringent. While the fruit itself is unavailable in the US, due both to its extremely short shelf life and a ban on importation, its juice can occasionally be found. Imagine a flavor profile combining all the best characteristics of strawberries, raspberries, cranberries, and pomegranate. That's a yangmei berry.

Yangmei berries are packed with antioxidants, earning them a "superfood" label; all types of health benefits have been ascribed to them (anticancer, antiviral, cardiovascular health, etc, etc), though few have been scientifically validated. In China, they're traditionally thought to help with stomach ailments.

In the company of our close Chinese friends, we ventured three hours south of Shanghai to Ningbo, an epicenter of yangmei production, to pick our own. According to a 2007 New York Times article, yangmei production in China has surpassed 865,000 acres; by comparison, the US has about 856,000 acres of citrus trees and 1,044,000 acres of grapes, the only American fruit crop with greater acreage. We came home from the weekend with crimson-stained clothes and fingers, and nearly 20 kilos of yangmei.

We eat as many fresh yangmei berries as we can, but they last only a few days before starting to spoil. The rest are preserved either by freezing (for use as yangmei ice cubes in drinks, or for thawing at a later date) or in baijiu (Chinese hard alcohol). Caveat: after a year of sitting, the alcohol becomes heavily concentrated in the berries, leaving the liquid deliciously flavored and lightly alcoholic and the berries as strong as shots!

China: Suzhou II

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 21 Jun 2014 05:54:00 +0000

We welcomed June with a long weekend for Dragon Boat Festival (duānwǔ jié, 端午节). While eating zongzi (trigonal pyramidal dumplings of glutinous rice with various fillings, wrapped in large leaves), watching dragon boat races, and listening to firecrackers, we found our way back to Suzhou, this time to the Humble Administrator's Garden (Zhōuzhèng yuán, 拙政园).

Covering 12.5 acres, the Humble Administrator's Garden is Suzhou's biggest; it is considered one of the four most famous gardens in China. It finds its origins over 500 years ago in the Ming dynasty, with an official who retired from government service to garden, as befit a "humble" man. Water is central to the garden, which features a maze of pools and islands set around a large central lake. In such a vast space, what we appreciated most were the little things -- the "forest" of over 700 potted, carefully cultivated bonzai trees; the flowers; the carved windows and framed entrance ways; the small details; the rare moments of quiet and solitude.

Suzhou train station at night

China: Suzhou I

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 03 May 2014 08:32:00 +0000

Above, there is heaven; below, there is Suzhou and Hangzhou
上有天堂，下有苏杭 (shàng yǒu tiāntáng, xià yǒu sūháng)
- Chinese proverb

When the May Day holiday* (International Labor Day) coincided with beautiful, warm, sunny weather, we decided to venture out of Shanghai to explore the city once known as the "Venice of the East" -- Suzhou.

Suzhou, founded in 514 BC, boasts a 2500 year history. During that time, it has held a place as one of the oldest towns in the Yangtze basin, the cradle of Wu culture, one of the world's largest cities (no longer), and an important commercial and cultural center. Marco Polo visited in 1276; many other Europeans have followed over the centuries, drawn by the city's beauty and prowess in silk.

Suzhou, to the delight of tourists and commuters, is quite close to Shanghai (thanks to trains and urban sprawl, it's rapidly morphing into a Shanghai suburb). The high speed rail (gāotiě, 高铁), running at up to 300 km/hr, connects the two cities in under 30 minutes; the normal-speed train takes an hour. Suzhou was once known for its waterways, canals which wind their way through town. While many of the canals have been paved over in the past decade of industrialization, some do remain -- especially in the old quarter (read: tourist quarter). The main tourist draw now is the classical gardens, renowned as some of the finest in China and recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The gardens "represent the development of Chinese landscape garden design over more than two thousand years."

From the train station, we took a cab to the Garden of the Master of the Nets (aka Netmaster Garden, wǎngshīyuán, 网师园). Originally laid out in the 12th century, it was restored in the 18th century by a government official-turned-fisherman -- hence the name. In traditional Chinese style, the garden is an artful juxtaposition of rocks and water and plants, arranged through a labyrinth of courtyards to create idealized miniature landscapes. It is a garden meant to be appreciated in quiet contemplation, a feat admittedly complicated by the hordes of loud tourists.

A motorbike ride through the hutong delivered us to Suzhou Park (Sūzhōu gōngyuán, 苏州公园) which, like the classical gardens, is impressively landscaped. Unlike the classical gardens, however, this park is off the typical tourist track. It's full of locals, dancing, singing, practicing tai chi, and fishing. Singing and dancing is common in our park in Shanghai, too -- it's one of the things I find endearing about China.

Despite the innumerable tour groups which do just that, hurriedly rushing from garden to garden on a tight schedule is not the proper way to appreciate their serenity and delicate artistry. We took our time and visited one more garden: Lion Grove Garden (shīzǐ lín yuán, 狮子林园), which dates back to 1342. Its name is derived from the large taihu rocks, some of which are said to resemble lions. Lion Grove Garden features a large, labyrinthine rock grotto around a lake at its center. We stayed until closing time when, in true China fashion, Kenny G's "Going Home" was piped through the gardens.

We'll definitely be back soon!

* Thurs - Sat. In America, we float many of our holidays to make three-day weekends (Sat - Mon). In China, they like to observe the holiday on the actual holiday. Since May 1 fell on a Thursday this year, we had Thursday and Friday off. But, since Friday isn't technically a holiday, we need to "give back" the day by working on Sunday. I'm not a fan.

Chinese New Year

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 01 Feb 2014 07:00:00 +0000

There's a certain peacefulness that descends on Shanghai during Chinese New Year. The city -- usually home to 23 million people -- empties out as people travel home. The subways are full to bursting with families and suitcases and gift boxes... and suddenly they're not. The streets are empty, most stores closed.

The sounds of Chinese New Year in Shanghai are different from the everyday bustle -- which is not to say it's quiet. Those who remain set off a week-long barrage of firecrackers and fireworks, crescendo-ing on the first and fifth nights, an assault on the senses to festively welcome the new year.

I look out at the fireworks, launching from the courtyard of our apartment building, exploding just above eye level, and the noise reverberates through me. From the windows on the other side, we can see fireworks at a distance, flashes of brightness all across the skyline. And the peace of the writhing city settles on me as well.