Walking through Harbin

I first came to Harbin in January of 2002. It was about 6 months after I arrived in China and the first destination I traveled outside of Beijing and Sichuan I visited. As soon as we completed our first semster of teaching in Luzhou, my friend Brian and I took the train to China's famous northeastern city. We stayed in an old hotel in 'lao Harbin' (or old Harbin) on a pedestrian street of cobblestones. Aside from being outside in the cold, Harbin in winter was a great place to visit. We spent about 4 or 5 days walking around the cold streets, exploring Russian and Korean food, visiting Siberian tigers, and anti- Japanese museums. In the middle of winter, Harbin has a big ice and snow festival where we could climb on and through large sculptures of ice with colored lights inside. Although I did quite a lot in those few days I was here, most of my memories of being here in the winter are limited to walking through the cobblestone streets of lao Harbin.

Being in Harbin during the summer at a university is quite a different experience. My daily life consists of studying, going to class, running, eating, and more studying. I've gotten into a routine here that pretty much remains limited to the university campus. Friday night I broke that routine when, at 9:30 at night, some friends and I decided to take a walk in the cool night air to lao Harbin. From the campus, its about an hour walk to this area of town. Walking through Chinese cities is a must I do in all cities I visit, but the distraction of classes has kept me from exploring much since I got here.

Once we survived walking through the terrible Harbin traffic (traffic is much worse here than other Chinese cities) to the pedestrian friendly lao Harbin, we wandered through these streets and to the river. Maybe because its cool, clean, and free of cars, its a popular destination for many to stroll during the evening. As I was walking, I had a hard time believing that this was the same city I had visited years before. It was warm, people were enjoying being outside, there was a lot of laughing, there were street vendors selling ice cream and cold drinks on every block, and, of course, the clashing sounds of karaoke were abundant.

I think the seasonal differences are the most obvious explanation for the differences. But I now have a different relationship with the city. I can think of Harbin as much more of a city where people live and I am not secluding myself to the touristed cobblestone streets and ice festival. Like many others out on Friday night, my friends and I were grateful for the cool air and the peaceful, car-free environment as an escape from the routines that guide our days. I hope that by next summer, I can write about Harbin from a much different perspective than I have now after being here for a month.

An Inner Mongolian Fourth of July

I've spent a total of four 4th of Julys in China. In the Peace Corps, they were nothing special, but maybe some red, white and blue cupcakes (which were actually a great treat). The consulate in Chengdu had parties but the volunteers were never invited. Last summer, I along with all of the NSF fellows I was in Beijing with, were invited to the US Embassy's party in a big hotel. It was quite an event with an American football theme and lots of American food. Each of these holidays have been an excuse for Americans to get together. Surprisingly, in the land of fireworks, I have never celebrated a Fourth of July in China with fireworks.

This year, my language program arranged a trip to Inner Mongolia for us. We took an overnight train on Thursday and arrived in Hailaer on Friday morning. We then got on a bus and drove through amazing green scenery tainted with hills, horses, and sheep, just as one would expect to find in Mongolia. We went to a park where we could climb one of the hills (maybe a mountain if you're not used to living in Colorado). It was amazing scenery.

I love wildflowers. I especially love wildflowers in China, where they are rare.
What I really love is wildflowers on top of mountains in China I get to climb myself.



By the time we got back to the bottom, we found a whole picnic waiting for us. Eating outside on tables is certainly not uncommon in China but eating outside picnic-style certainly is. When they began to cut up the watermelon, I realized they had done this for the Fourth of July.

Setting up for the picnic.


That afternoon we drove further until we got to a 'traditional' Mongolian village set up for tourists. They village had yurts where we slept, horses to ride, traditional musicians and singers. Although we were warned against horseback-riding here, my classmate Candice and I just had to do it. We both felt we've ridden enough horses to feel comfortable and assure people we were not scared. t turns out Mongolian horses are much more li hai (hard core) than American horses. When we first started galloping off down the hill towards the lake, it was scary. But we told the guides to take us off to the grasslands and be slower, and enjoyed the rest of the ride.

That evening we had a bonfire and were scheduled to watch a performance. Turned out that the performance was interactive and we were all encouraged to dance around the bonfire with the dancers. It rained but no one cared. Afterwords, someone in our group set off a couple small fireworks. A Mongolian version of the fourth of July, minus the red, white, and blue.

The next day we took the bus to Manzhouli, near the Russian border. As foreigners, we could not go anywhere near the border, but we got to go to a Russian restaurant for lunch (does that count for something?). I walked around the town for the rest of the afternoon. It was fun because for once, people would not speak to me in English, but in Russian and I could honestly tell them I could not understand them.

That night we got on a train back to Harbin. Now I have lots of studying to do.

Copying Keys

Over the weekend, I managed to lose one of the keys to my room. In a dorm in the US, this would cost money to replace the locks, but it China, the solution is cheap. I just needed to copy the key. Copying Chinese keys is a rather easy process-I've done this several times before. I once lived in a Beijing apartment that had plenty of lock and key issues (if Meg and Joey are reading this, they will remember-now its funny but at the time was rather frustrating). So, with my roommate's key in hand, I set out to pei yaoshi (copy key). I didn't know where to go exactly, but I know there are plenty of tiny little stalls every few blocks in China that can pei yaoshi for a really cheap price. I had plenty of time and wasn't worried about not finding a place.

Well, I only wish I had set out with a map of the campus and marked off each new direction that someone had sent me in. I probably asked about 10 different people, and the first 3 sent me in completely opposite directions, all on the university campus. By the time I got to the fourth person, he told me it was in the Ha Gong Da (this university) store. So I went to the store, which actually is a big lot of a series of several specialty stores. None of them little, dirty, and dark enough to pei yaoshi. But I asked and they sent me to the other side, then they send me back to the first side. Eventually, I walked out of the building and asked a man outside in a stall. He sent me to the other side of the building. Just as I was about to ask the next guy, I saw a bike tire pump. Ah-hah! Many of the places in China which can pei yaoshi are also the same ones which can fix bikes. Sure enough I turned the corner and asked if they could pei yaoshi. Two minutes later, for two yuan, I was holding a shiny key. The nice man held it up with the old key to show me they look alike. At last. And the good news is that I brought it home and it actually worked!