WorldView

ENCHANTING RHODES

noreply@blogger.com (Richard Price) — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 20:21:00 +0000

The Island Rhodes (not to be confused with Rhode Island) is my personal favorite of the Greek Isles. As you move inland from the world famous Mandraki harbor, the landscape varies from endless blue seas to sandy beaches with dazzling crystal clear water to jagged rocky cliffs and finally to lush forested hills. Throughout centuries of Macedonian, Roman, Byzantine, Turkish, and Italian occupation, the people here have impressively maintained their own unique identity. Boasting architectural wonders from all these eras, the island is permeated with an unmistakable flavor of ancient and medieval history. The Palace of the Grand Master, built by the Knights of St. John, is a glorious remnant of the crusades. The piles of ancient cannon and mortar balls lying about in the Old Town really brought history to life in my mind. The Acropolis of Lindos and Temple of Apollo are lasting remnants of ancient Greece. For my money, the view from Filerimos Hill is a must on every trip to Rhodes. If you walk down the Italian built Stations of the Cross you will be met at the end by a small sanctuary, above which towers a huge cross. You can enter a door at the base, climb a tight cylindrical stairway and step out into the hollow cross beam to enjoy the magnificent view stretching as far as Turkey.

Tourism is such a prevalent industry here that most inhabitants of the island only work during the tourist season (roughly May-October) and take the rest of the year off (mainly because they often work 12-16 hour days and 6-7 day weeks during the busy season). As my companion Abel and I baked under the sun and sipped iced coffee at a rooftop café, we enjoyed some free entertainment involving the shopkeeper’s birds. A large parrot pecked and harassed a smaller caged bird to no end, which infuriated the owner, who punished the delinquent parrot by pouring glasses of cold water on his head (which made him very uncomfortable). Watching the crowds shop and meander, we discussed how Europeans seem to be in far better shape than Americans overall because they are generally more active. We also compared items we had purchased as mementos of the island; I had bought several small but stunning oil paintings recently completed by a local artist. Above the hustle and bustle on the streets below, we could see the sun starting to set over the Suleiman Mosque, and I decided that although tourism crowds the streets and congests the beaches, everyone should have the opportunity to see this place.

AH, MYKONOS...

noreply@blogger.com (Richard Price) — Sat, 09 May 2009 20:51:00 +0000

At end of The Bourne Identity, Jason Bourne escapes to a remote island paradise, away from the threatening chaos of the world (at least for a brief interlude). The isle was Mykonos, and people have been similarly escaping to this enchanted island sanctuary for centuries. Upon arrival, I was greeted by the same soft, warm evening sea breeze that has welcomed travelers from all over the world. The whitewashed coastal city is equal parts old fashioned charm and cosmopolitan innovation. As we strolled along the harbor on a perfectly still night, the shops and restaurants began to come alive with lights, music, and conversation. The incredibly narrow streets of “little Venice” beckon visitors to enter the shops and purchase some precious memento of this place to take home with them. The truth is you can’t take it with you; the experience of Mykonos far surpasses any description, photo, or souvenir.

Greek restaurant staff and shopkeepers are not at all timid or soft spoken, as all of them know full well that if they do not get your business, some other establishment certainly will. What would pass for intrusiveness or rudeness in the states is just eager hospitality and good business here (tourism is the leading industry by far). Don’t be surprised if you are seated with a menu in your hands before you even know what’s happening. And don’t think that a shortage of chairs or tables will present any problem to them, there is always a way to improvise! My friend Abel and I ended up getting wrangled in by the first restaurant we passed by a very enthusiastic girl with tattoos (she saw us coming a mile away). Don’t get me wrong, any table right on the beach is fantastic and the views are simply unbeatable, but there were better places just down the road, as we later realized to our dismay.

The ancient churches and trademark Mykonos windmills add to the old-world ambiance and charm, while even just the presence of the expensive yachts holding parties in the harbor make you feel like you are living the high life. It is as if all the worries of the world are prohibited in Mykonos, while relaxation and delight enjoy a magnificent free reign. I defy you to find a more romantic and tranquil place.

CITY OF THE VIOLET CROWN

noreply@blogger.com (Richard Price) — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 04:28:00 +0000

What meager words should I choose to describe the awe inspired by the Parthenon illuminated on a perfect moonlit night? Or the view from atop the Areopagus? Or the majestic sight of the legendary Acropolis? Suffice it to say that words escape me. My first night in Athens is spent wandering the city in ideal Mediterranean fall weather. There is a soft romanticism in the air which I thought only existed in fiction. Musicians serenade passersby. Couples stroll arm in arm the ancient marble streets without a care on earth. Candlelit sidewalk cafes beckon with the sounds of warm conversations and laughter over the clink of wineglasses. All my anxieties seem miles removed, and I marvel at how many endless centuries of history have shaped this place, this cradle of western civilization.

The temples and monuments honoring ancient Greek gods; Zeus, Ares, Apollo, and of course, Athena, are a testament to both the ingenuity and the devotion of the ancient Greeks. Here was the birthplace of democracy, philosophy, and western architecture, among many other pillars of modern civilization. To imagine the scope of what was undertaken by the ancients, with only primitive means at their disposal, is overwhelming. It is no wonder that the ancient Romans emulated the Greeks.

Tourism is the leading industry in the city, which draws crowds from across the world to witness its beauty and grandeur. One day, after spending the morning on the Acropolis, I visited a quaint little café in the Plaka, a popular village within central Athens. I’m proud to say that I was mistaken for a local. Restaurant and shop personnel speak both Greek and English very well, so I took it as a compliment that I was addressed in Greek, because I usually try to make it a point not to automatically give off a “tourist” vibe. While dining on a cheese soufflé and a delicious frappe, I met a lovely fellow American named Nina and we had a nice chat about the sights in Athens. She recommended I visit the new Museum of the Acropolis (still under construction, but allowing some visitor access), and I urged her to visit the Odeon of Herodus Atticus, an ancient theatre in the shadow of the Acropolis.

After lunch I was sitting on the marble steps in front of the Spanish Embassy when I was approached by an amiable Dutchman named Floris and his delightful young son (whose name I cannot pronounce, much less spell). Floris, luggage in tow, asked if I could be so kind as to help them find a hotel. You see, he had promised his son a trip a European city of his choice, and the little tyke had selected Athens. In the spirit of adventure and exploration, they had simply purchased plane tickets and embarked on the journey without as much as a tentative itinerary. I admire this risk-taking, carefree quality in Europeans. It is something that many Americans, me included, could learn a great deal from. I took the venturesome duo to my hotel, which may have been nicer than they needed, but they were so grateful and kind that my dwindling faith in humankind was instantly rekindled on the spot.

There is too much beauty in Athens to express. The most powerful spot for me was the Areopagus, where the Apostle Paul spoke to the Athenian philosophers about a “God who dwelleth not in temples made by hands.” Go there for yourself. Visit the Parthenon, visit the Academy, visit the Parliament building and the monument to the Unknown Soldier, visit the ancient Agora, see the Arc of Hadrian, but most of all, wander the city and take in the atmosphere, the people, the culture, the history, and the splendor. It will be time well spent. Athens is a living city, a city whose love for life is unavoidably contagious.

HUADU GLOWS WITH LIFE

noreply@blogger.com (Richard Price) — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 03:12:00 +0000

The more time I spent in China, the more I felt that something amazing is occurring there, like the massive awakening of a people long hindered from revealing their true potential, and I felt privileged to be along for the ride (if only temporarily). The street market in Huadu is quite an experience. Think noisy carnival in the midst of a vast construction project; a contemporary urban garage sale packed with people until the late hours. The sounds of bargaining and hawking and techno music fill the hot, damp evening air as we stroll down the avenue, passing vendors displaying everything from lingerie to cell phones. One guy offered to cut my hair, which I declined, but I did break down and purchase a watch, which the seller assured me was made with “real metal.” A bargain at 20 Yuan, it stopped working 2 weeks later, lasting about 13 days longer than I expected. The animal market was truly a shocking ordeal. The smell of flesh and blood permeates the dank air, as merchants pedal snakes, turtles, chickens, fish, ducks, and much more. Butchers chop and weigh meat of the very freshest variety, and we draw more than a few stares from locals as I try to hide my revulsion. I wonder how many foreigners they encounter wandering through these halls of death. My guess is not many. We were looking for boiled scorpion, but couldn’t find any.

We used Huadu as our transportation hub, catching buses to other places of interest from a station in front of the New Century (a ritzy modern hotel), and other buses or vans back to the campus afterwards. We enjoyed a wonderful Korean meal one afternoon (aside from the Kim chi, which I will never like no matter how open-minded I try to be).

During my last evening in China, I was looking for some souvenirs of what I perceived as Chinese culture, such as a scroll featuring calligraphy and Chinese artwork. Locating such commodities in a place like Huadu is no easy task. Everyone is selling new technology and practical things, and there is next to no interest in cultural artwork or historical artifacts. However, after much searching, we found several excellent wall hangings with hanzi characters in a secluded bookstore on the third floor of an unassuming shop. Also, I wanted a Yao Ming basketball jersey, but mistakenly inquired of Albert if he knew where I could buy a Mao jersey. After much laughter at visions of Mao Zedong playing for the Houston Rockets, I assured him that if a Mao jersey existed, I wanted that too. I wish I could have captured more of this place and stolen it home with me.

CHINA RESHAPED MY WORLD

What an exciting, progressive, impressive, overwhelming, and authentic place is China. I am already drawn to return to this dichotomy of light and darkness, aspiration and despair, hope and desperation. My favorite parts of China are its levels of discomfort, of unfamiliarity, of enlightenment, and of danger. I wonder how many tourists visit this country and don’t ever really see it. Take this small piece of advice…when you travel, don’t bring your expectations with you. Enter with open eyes and a clean slate. The place will carve itself onto your psyche in a genuine and powerful way if you allow it. Pay no mind to reviews on Trip Advisor, which are full of luxury seekers. Be a truth seeker. If all you want is dependable room service, excellent cuisine, beautiful views, the highest level of comfort and the greatest amount of stars for your restaurants and hotels, then do the world a favor and seek these things closer to home.

There is no way to describe China without contradicting yourself. It is a nation of contradictions. Any traveler who experiences this cannot help but view it with equal levels of awe and disgust, and to describe it with both fondness and aversion. Be assured, if you have feelings within you, China will bring them out.

Tomorrow I leave for Greece, the Greek Islands, Turkey, and Israel. I wish you all the best until I return with more stories. Thank you for sharing the adventure with me.

AN AFTERNOON IN GUANGZHOU

noreply@blogger.com (Richard Price) — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 23:58:00 +0000

Today we take the relatively short bus to Guangzhou (also known as Canton), the third most populous city in mainland China. Half of the world’s cranes must be here, as construction crews modernize and renovate the face of the city around the clock. The first place we journey is underground to the brand new state of the art metro system that snakes its way beneath the massive city. The slick and efficient trains are packed beyond imagination, and Albert advises me take my wallet out of the “sucker pocket” (back pocket) and guard it more closely. We disembark at a stop called “Comic City”, which we soon discover is an extravagant and colorful shopping mall. Several signs display slightly flawed English translations, such as “Please Do Not Littering”, or “Stay Here is Prohibited”, which most likely refers to homeless people or loiterers. Hey, at least they are trying. In America, it’s English or nothing.

After perusing the aisles of pirated DVD’s and various electronics (avoiding fashion clothing stores like the plague) we stop at a quaint but sleek looking sushi bar and order all-you-can-eat. We are seated and given hot tea and fruit flavored soda, and the rules are explained to us. There is conveyer belt carrying an assortment of sushi dishes by, and we may take any we like (except those on blue plates, which are expensive gourmet dishes). Since each color dish has a certain price value, we immediately decide to eat at least double the value of our “all-you-can-eat” price. Also, we insist on eating more than everyone around us, and make a big show of measuring our stack of plates against our neighbors. The young Chinese couple next to us thinks it is all just hilarious, and explaining why we consumed so much, Albert jokingly tells them, “We are robbing them,” which only elicits more laughter.

Next we head over to “Beijing Street”, a district of the city boasting the historically preserved remains of roads dating back to all of the ancient dynasties of China. The roads lie at various levels beneath the ground, and can be viewed through glass floors in the center of the main street. As usual, tourists are interested in China’s past and tradition, while locals are attracted to the future and to progress.

I get to do my own bargaining for the first time with a street vendor, who punches his price for a jade bracelet into a calculator and shows it to me. I push the calculator away, wanting to practice my Chinese, and tell him the price is too much, and offer a lower amount. We eventually settle on a price, and although I probably could have bought it for less had I been shrewder, I feel satisfaction for having navigated the transaction successfully on my own. On the streets, although littering is common, there are tireless workers everywhere sweeping the roads with giant witch brooms and gathering trash.

We later visit a peaceful nature park on an island in a lake in the heart of the city, with serene walkways winding through dense greenery offering splendid views. It is a perfect example of the eternal battle between civilization and nature. In China, progress and expansion are crushing nature, but it is good to see parts of it preserved even within sprawling cities. We stumble across a small deserted carnival, and after playing a few short games of air hockey and one involving shooting at multicolored balloons, the dreary staff is crushed to see us leave.

HONG KONG, THE NEW CITY OF LIGHTS

noreply@blogger.com (Richard Price) — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 16:40:00 +0000

After a four hour bus ride from Huadu, we arrive at the Hong Kong customs station. Inside, I start snapping photos and a smartly-dressed security guard runs at me and shouts “no photo!” or something to that effect. It seems strange to me that I should need an additional visa to get back into China after visiting HK, which I had naively thought was just another Chinese city. But since the British handed control back to the PRC in 1997, they treat it almost like a sovereign territory. Hong Kong has its own currency (HK Dollars), its own traffic laws (they drive on the left side of the road like the British), and its own border security.

We exchange our RMB in for HKD and then we get “Octopus Cards”, which will work as payment for the subway as well as many nearby eateries and shopping centers. As we stroll through Kowloon, dodging traffic and hawkers (aggressive street vendors), we notice the gold medal match for women’s beach volleyball (China v. US) playing live in one restaurant, so I suggest we eat lunch there. I order fried eggplant and noodles and Albert orders chicken and curry (welcome to HK, the international cuisine!). I am surprised to be given a fork rather than chopsticks. USA wins the match and we silently cheer.

We finally locate the hostel we were looking for (run by a friend of Albert’s, a kind and helpful chap named Stanly) and discover that they have no available rooms. However, the hostel next door, also run by Stanly, does have a room for us! After dropping off our things, we head out into the city, destined for the world-famous Hong Kong harbor. The nice thing about the harbor is that there is no traffic, and hawkers aren’t allowed, the result being a much more relaxing environment. Fountains, sculptures, palm trees, and various exhibits on the Olympics dot the harbor area, but even in this serene locale, one simply cannot escape the mood of excited advancement and swift prosperity that exudes from the city.

Walking along the bay, we stroll down the “Avenue of Stars”, Hong Kong’s version of Hollywood, featuring actors, directors, and various other celebrities of China. I can scarcely get a clear view of Jackie Chan’s star long enough to take a photo because of its popularity with Chinese tourists. An iron statue of Bruce Lee watches over the city. We sip macchiatos in front of Starbucks and watch people for a while, just taking in all of the magnificent beauty of this thriving, progressive city. You will see many international tourists in HK, mostly of the Prada variety, but also many Chinese, who revel in the impressive modernity and success of this place. They beam with pride. Across the bay is Hong Kong Island with its towering structures and rolling hills.

We are lucky enough to catch a tour of the bay on a boat which is nearly deserted, and at the perfect time of night while the sun sets, throwing golden light on the reflective towers on the island. We arrive back at the harbor in time catch dinner and get a good spot overlooking the island for the nightly light show. Every night, Hong Kong Island dazzles spectators across the bay with colorful lights mounted on buildings, shining in sequence, and laser lights flashing through the sky, all coordinated with music playing on speakers at the harbor. We catch a late movie and sleep well in our small but cozy beds.

The next morning finds us departing in a hurry, ahead of schedule due to an approaching typhoon. As we rush through the subway station to catch the right train and reach the bus terminal in time, I decide that Hong Kong is an extraordinary mix of San Francisco and New York, with a dash of Hollywood thrown in for good measure.

GUANGDONG PEIZHENG COLLEGE LIFE

noreply@blogger.com (Richard Price) — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 17:02:00 +0000

The campus of Guangdong Peizheng College is undergoing some renovations, as is most of China, but despite this it remains strikingly beautiful. Nestled in lush Chinese countryside and bordered by a lake on one side, it feels like an ideal atmosphere for scholarly pursuits. When I arrive it is a ghost campus, deserted by nearly all for the summer, but soon it will be a buzzing hive of social activity. My friend Albert and I enjoy many of the campus facilities during this interval of calm before the coming term. The Olympic size pool offers some escape from the heat as it blasts out techno music as loud as you’ve ever heard into the hot afternoon air, like a rhythmic broadcast throughout the campus that fun is being had here. Pouring rain didn’t stop us from enjoying the tennis courts, although two foreigners so stubbornly ignoring the weather must have been a strange sight to the locals. I did learn how to keep score in Mandarin.

Across from the campus are a series of eateries along with the bus stop, which is the hub of transportation from the campus into the rest of China. The eateries become more crowded as students begin to arrive, and one evening while we dine (on pineapple chicken and rice with soy milk) outside under a large yellow canopy, I notice that groups of students are largely segregated by gender. There are girls tables and guys tables, and the only exceptions I can find are a few couples eating together alone. Another peculiar thing I noticed on campus was that girls are always carrying umbrellas, especially on particularly sunny days. I inquired about this to Albert, who explained that Chinese girls try to avoid sunlight at all costs, because whiter skin is considered more beautiful. Many even use a product called ‘whitening cream’ to cover up any sun exposure. I marvel at how opposite that is from America, where women literally radiate and fry their skin to become darker.

One day, we catch a ride from Huadu back to the campus in what I can only describe as a privately owned and operated taxi-van. Essentially, these are just guys with vans who hang out around bus stops and offer rides for cash (this would never fly in the West, with all of our distrust and regulations and frivolous lawsuits). Usually, if you can get a big enough group together to fill the van and split the cost, it is worth the quicker trip. Today we share a taxi-van with five students and a driver. One is a former student in one of Albert’s English classes, so naturally we all strike up conversation. Honestly, this girl looks like she could be fifteen, but Albert later assures me that she is most likely in her early twenties. They are a bit timid about speaking English, but they seem to enjoy the exchange. One of the girls tells me I have beautiful eyes, and I tell her thank you, and that her English is very good. She says it’s not very good, but I assure her that her English is better than my Chinese. She tells me that she has been learning English since fifth grade. Another student struggles through a conversation in English with Albert, and as laughter fills the air I notice that the mood amidst this motley gang of strangers is undeniably pleasant and warm. I rarely find such amiable openness in America.

CULTURE SHOCK IN CHINI TOWN

noreply@blogger.com (Richard Price) — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 00:08:00 +0000

One of my first experiences of real Chinese culture came on a short bike excursion to Chini, a town about 20 minutes from the University where I was staying. My first reaction to the traffic in China was abject terror, which quickly developed into acceptance that death was eventually imminent so worrying about it was futile. My companion, a third year English teacher in China and long time friend, gave me sound advice: “Don’t die.” We later enhanced the expression to the universally applicable and more logical recommendation: “Die later”.

The traffic on Chinese roads is not as uniform as I am used to in America. Cars share the road with bikes, scooters, rickshaws, motorcycles, pedestrians, livestock, buses, vans, construction vehicles, and anything other modes of land transport you can imagine. The “right of way” does not exist, and the only factor that keeps roads from becoming death traps is the skill and knack for survival of the locals. When a vehicle approaches an intersection or another vehicle or pedestrian, a common sound you’ll hear is several loud blasts from the horn. I learned that motorists utilize the horn blasts for several purposes: to let others know that they are approaching (i.e. “you’ve been warned”) and to free themselves of any responsibility for whatever happens next (i.e. “I honked, therefore you are without excuse”). What the horn blasts don’t represent is anger or frustration, which is what I see so much of in America, and what we commonly refer to as “road rage.” I did not see one single case of road rage during my time in China. As a comfort, my friend assures me that the drivers would rather not hit me if they can avoid it; mainly because of the damage their vehicle might incur and the trouble that a dead foreigner might cause them.

We arrive at Chini (alive only by the grace of God), and after a delicious Muslim meal of fried egg and noodles (only 4 Yuan, roughly 65 cents), I mention that I want to purchase a few items which I deem necessities. We find a store not unlike Walgreen's and start perusing the aisles for such Western luxuries as deodorant and shaving cream. After asking the clerks (my friend speaks Mandarin) and being directed to the pine scented air fresheners and electronic razors, I begin to realize that my items are not as universally “essential” as my bubble back home had convinced me. They are, in fact, relatively unknown. After much upheaval and most of the store associates along with some shoppers assisting us or watching the show, we locate the items at a specialty beauty counter and I purchase them. One of the clerks speaks a little English and, in choppy Mandarin, I tell her that she speaks it very well, after which she launches into a long discourse of which I catch only a few words.

Walking around in the marketplace, I notice that there can be no blending in for foreigners in Chini. Most people stare at us, and I realize that we are some of the few laowai that these people ever see. I get to experience the thrill of bargaining, common in Chinese markets, and decide that we have it too easy in the West with our set-in-stone prices. In China, a bargain is an accomplishment, not a discovery.

As we duck under power lines hanging across the dirt road and avoid traffic on the way home, I ponder how very different the mindset here is, and I realize that to them, it is we who appear rather strange and backward.

CHINA LINGERS WITH ME

noreply@blogger.com (Richard Price) — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 04:23:00 +0000

What can I say about China? I could recite some trite musing about the beauty and tranquility of this place...but I would be ignoring its vibrant and chaotic energy. I could take an outsider's scolding tone, protesting the oppression of the people by their government...but I would be overlooking their tenacious and indelible spirit. "Just give me the gist of it," you might demand, but I won't even try to constrain this vast ocean within a single drop of ink (or a few lousy keystrokes). Instead, I'll do my best to describe what I experienced here in five short postings on this blog, organized by the different places I visited (Chini, Guangdong Peizheng College, Hong Kong, Guangzhou, and Huadu).

I've only been in China for eight days, but it feels as though the entirety of my life preceding this trip was lived with an incomplete picture of the human race. I return home with an intensified appreciation for life; less concerned with the trifles that used to consume my existence. My sense of entitlement to all the luxuries I enjoy on a daily basis has diminished somewhat, and more important matters rise to the forefront of my mind. It has been both disillusioning and enlightening; destroying illusions of superiority and safety, and casting light on the beating heart of a people so different than I, and yet so alike. As I settle in on my plane bound for Tokyo and then the States, I notice that I am sitting in the same seat as when I flew in to Guangzhou. And though it may be through the same window, I gaze out at China through newly enlightened eyes as we make our ascent.