How to Milk a Reindeer

After 12 days of bumping around all over Mongolia in a Russian van with two Brits and an INSANE driver, I am back in Ulaanbaatar for one last night before I catch my flight back to Beijing tomorrow night. The last week and a half has been pretty nuts. Mongolians are by far the friendliest and most generous people I've ever met. For the last twelve days, it's been a mix of camping and staying in family gers (also known as yurts, which are traditional Mongolian felt homes), which has been mostly fun, although a little cold. The food has been...okay. I'm not a big cow's milk drinker to begin with, but over the last week and a half, I've had the *pleasure* of trying: yak milk, fermented mare's milk (you read that right, HORSE milk), reindeer milk (I didn't even know you could milk a reindeer), and salty cow milk. To make sure it was a balanced diet, I was sure to try marmot meat, an assortment of different milk curds, and Mongolian vodka. And to top it off, it seems that at every ger I stayed at, there was always a box that will forever be known as the "random body parts" box, full of different animal parts that were ready to be eaten; can I interest anyone in a nice slab of yak liver or sheep stomach lining? I consider myself to be fairly open-minded when it comes to trying new foods, but the mare's milk and stomach lining was pretty difficult to choke down. Unfortunately, there always seemed to be a happy smiling Mongolian staring at me, waiting for me to finish whatever delicacy they had just handed me, which means that there was no sliding the food into my pocket/trash can/my horse's mouth.I'm pretty pooped, so this is going to be a short one, but Mongolia has been great. For all my moaning and groaning about how blech UB is (and i still stand by that), Mongolia has been a fantastic experience, both as a traveler and as a researcher. I'm sad to be leaving Mongolia tomorrow night (I'm actually feeling a little teary at the thought of it!), but I definitely think I'll be back again in the not too distant future.

Finally!

After spending six days in UB waiting for someone to sign a piece of paper and put a stamp in my passport, I have finally been granted permission to hit the field. Tomorrow morning I'm tossing my gear into a Russian or Japanese jeep (TBD based on price), and am heading for Northern Mongolia. I'll be gone for nine days, and will be flying out of UB on July 23 back to Beijing.

Today marked the official beginning of the Nadaam Festival, which is Mongolia's biggest national holiday. It's a three day event, featuring the three "manly" pursuits: horse-racing, archery and wrestling. I went to the opening ceremonies this morning, which was an *interesting* experience. Mongolia has the lowest population density in the world, but i think that all 2.5 million Mongols were trying to make their way into the stadium; somehow, I wound up with somebody's kid in my lap for a large part of the show! I'm not sure if I'm going to bother catching any of the main sporting events, as I have no interest whatsoever in watching archery or wrestling. As for horse-racing, Mongolian horsemen are nuts! It's truly awe-inspiring watching them do what they do, but I think I might just wait until I get out of UB to see a real horse-race. I

suppose an honourary fourth "manly" category would be the alcohol-consumption contest. Apparently Nadaam is a particularly alcohol-drenched event. Mongolia's choice of poison: either vodka (thanks to the Soviet history) or beer. On a somber note, UB has a very high unemployment rate, which goes hand in hand with a very high rate of alcoholism. Single women (such as myself) are not advised to walk around UB late at night unaccompanied, due to the significantly increased chance of muggings and assaults that are alcohol-induced.

This is probably the last time that I'll have internet access for the next week and a half, so you are hereby relieved of reading my ranting and raving. Who knows, if I meet a Mongolian steppe prince and decide that life a nomad's life of salty tea and mutton meat actually really do suit me, this could be my last post ever! If that's the case, to all of you, come look for me if you ever decide to visit Mongolia!

Salt is NOT a Flavour!

I'm not a fantastic cook. I like to cook, but I don't pretend to be a master chef. That being said, I feel quite confident when I say the following: "Salt is not a fucking flavour!!!" To quote the fine folks over at Bon Appetit Magazine, "salt is a flavour enhancer, not a flavour on its own." Someone must translate that article into Mongolian in order to explain to most Mongolian chefs/cooks/roadside restaurant owners that there's really no need add massive amounts of salt to everything that passes human lips! I kid you not, they even add salt to the tea! No joke, salty tea. What next? Shrimp-flavoured yogurt?

Worthless Money

I've been in UB for four days now, and I'm beginning to get antsy. Unfortunately, I'll be waiting at least another day or two before I can leave for the field because there's been a delay on getting some essential paper work done. This is a tad frustrating as I've already booked my flight back to Beijing (July 23), which means that every day that I spend here, waiting for the bureaucratic engine to start moving, I'm losing time that could potentially be spent outside of UB. Sigh....I'm trying not to get frustrated, but holy smokes, if I ever become a senior official in the Mongolian government, the first thing I would do is bring in a team of efficiency experts to whip this town into shape!

Yesterday, I took a day trip out to Khustain National Park. KNP was established specifically as a sanctuary for the takhi, Mongolia's wild horse, which is apparently the only wild horse left in the world. KNP is about an hour and a half outside of UB, so it's easily done in a day. The drive out was incredibly bumpy and twisty, but the scenery was a refreshing change from UB's urban sprawl. Lots of cows, horses, sheep and goats all over the road. I kept thinking, if we hit one of them, the driver will probably just throw it in the trunk of the car and call it dinner. KNP itself is basically 50, 620 hectares of hilly grassland, with no trees, and tonnes of rock hard animal poo everywhere. It was quite a pleasant way to spend an afternoon, just walking up and down the hills.

One of the hardest things I find about traveling is keeping track of how much money I have on me. It's difficult because I'm always trying to do approximate mental conversions, which doesn't always work out. One CAD is worth just over 7RMB (Chinese yuan), and 1100 MNT (Mongolian Tugrik). This may seem straight forward enough, but Mongolian currency is all paper money, and the smallest denomination is 20 MNT, which is worth less than 2 cents CAD. My wallet, which at home is normally empty, is stuffed obese with bills right now; there must be at least 50 or 60 bills, which makes a nice wad of cash, but in reality, it's only worth about 20CAD... not even enough to effectively grease the palm of the seedy bureacrat who is responsible for holding up my paperwork.

Swallowing the Gobi

After having spent the last three weeks in the giant steam-bath known as China, Ulaanbaatar's air is insanely dry. On the upside, this means that I can wear my hair down for the first time since leaving Toronto, and not worry about it expanding a zillion inches out, but on the downside, it means that my throat feels like its been rubbed with sand paper. This is actually an apt description, as I'm thinking that I've probably swallowed at least a couple of fist fulls of Gobi sand. My voice has probably deepened by an octave, which would be fantastic if I was looking for a career as a phone-sex operator (which is a conceivable backup if neither the foreign service nor watermelon farming work out), but in the mean time, it means waking up several times in the night because my throat has gotten SO DRY, or running to the washroom because of all the water that I've been drinking. My single biggest expense in Mongolia thus far? Bottled water. I've actually spent more on bottled water than on food and accommodations combined.

I feel like I should write something nice about Ulaanbaatar. Although I still stand by my statement about UB being the ugliest city on the planet, I have decided that there are some redeeming qualities. At the top of my list, UB actually has a fantastic cafe culture, which is something I've always felt is sorely lacking in Toronto. There are lots of Euro expats living in UB, which means that it's a fairly lucrative business to get into. Secondly, most public establishments that choose to play music tend to favour house, traditional Mongolian, afro-beat or jazz, which is definitely a significant step up from China's obsession with 90s pop and Christmas jazz. Third....well, I think two is actually pretty good... Anyhow, I'm done bashing UB, let the good times roll!

The Ramblings of a Grouchy Traveler

I was wrong....Ulaanbaatar is not just a bit of an eyesore....after having spent a good chunk of the day walking around, I feel like I can now say that UB is quite possibly the biggest eyesore on the planet. No offense, but Mongolia, you need a better capital city.

Today has been a so-so day. I'm a little sleep deprived (the result of too much coffee at the Beijing Airport, the presence of 7 snoring roommates, no pillow and a bit of traveler's anxiety), a little sunburned (which is infuriating because I was so judicious in applying sunscreen SPF 65 this morning, and reapplying this afternoon!), and a little grouchy. I received some relatively upsetting news via e-mail this morning, which has sort of put a damper on my day. Finally, the weather has been quite grey and drizzly today, which tends to put me in a meloncholic state of mind. In my travel experience, I knew that a day like today was bound to come along sooner rather than later. It's impossible to go on a trip of any length without having a couple of days that just make you wanna go home and fix a cup of tea. However, it still sucks when bad days sneak up on you. That being said, I'm convinced that tomorrow will be a better day!

Due to my mood, I didn't really do much today. I arrived in Mongolia sooner than I had originally planned, so I've got some time before I'll be meeting up with my colleagues. UB isn't a city that is particularly rich in culture and history (well, at least not in the culture and history that I, as a complete foreigner, can really appreciate), so the next couple of days are going to be spent just walking around, visiting a few museums and monastaries, getting my paper work in order before heading out to the field (this could actually prove to be a bit of a challenge....apparently, some palms may need to be greased), and doing some reading.

Some observations about Mongolia (or at least UB and its citizens):Mongolian sounds like a fascinating language; it's a member of the Ural-Altaic family of languages, which means that it's related to Turkish, Hungarian, Kazakh and Korean. It sounds quite gutteral, and if you're not listening carefully, you might mistake it for Russian or some other Eastern European language. Mongolians have a pretty distinct look; certain features seem to be very typically Asian (eyes, hair coulour/texture, bone structure of the nose), but some remind me very much of Aboriginal Canadians from the North, especially the cheekbone structure. Also, many Mongolians have very fair skin and pink cheeks, which is remarkable considering how intense the sun is here. UB is not a city for pedestrians; car traffic is pretty insane, and drivers seem to believe that the horn is a leaning post. That being said, Ulaanbaatarians (correct me if that's not the correct term) are quite friendly, smiley and want to be helpful. The owner of the guesthouse where I'm staying speaks perfect English, and he has a wicked accent. I should try to record it so y'all can hear it.... There are a lot of French and British tourists here. I think that there must be some sort of historical tie between France and Mongolia.

One final note, it's sort of insane how much difference a border can make! China and Mongolia are SO wildly different, it's almost difficult to believe that they're neighbours. The best thing about Mongolia so far?? This will sound ridiculous, but it's definitely the uncensored access to the news! For the last three weeks I've felt so cut off from the world outside of China (i have some things to say about China's state-run CCTV and journalism in China in general, but that'll have to wait for another day)....the last thing that I remember making the headlines in North America was that Paris Hilton was going back to jail. Okay, I've been rambling on, I should go. Hopefully when next I write, I won't be in such a cranky mood. Peace and love!

Chasing Chinggis

After a full day of traveling, I have officially arrived in Chinggis' homeland. I left my hostel in Xi'an at 7:50am, and arrived in Ulaan Bator at 8pm, after spending four hours at the Beijing airport. I have nothing to report at the moment, except to say that UB appears to be a perfect example of how NOT to plan a city....it doesn't appear as though Soviet city planners put any thought into how UB was developed, because quite honestly, the city is a bit an eyesore. From the air, UB is probably the ugliest city I've ever seen; it's just one giant urban sprawl. Hmmm...maybe I'm being prematurely harsh, and should give it some time, but so far....it's not looking good.

Ain't Got Nuttin' but Mutton

I've been in Xi'an for a few days now, and every day I've been here, I've had some sort of mutton dish. Mutton is all the rage here. I was informed that this is because Xi'an has quite a large Muslim population that can't eat pork (which is widely featured in Chinese cuisine), therefore pork is replaced by mutton from Inner Mongolia.

Speaking of Mongolia, I'm leaving for Ulan Bator in less than 24 hours!!! After much paperwork and red tape, I have a Mongolian visa in my passport, and a red hot ticket from Xi'an to UB (via Beijing) in my backpocket (well, actually, it's my backpack). Apparently mutton is the base for every single meal in Mongolia, so I'm going to do my best to find a non-mutton meal this evening.

This morning, after seeing my mother off to the airport, I visited Xi'an's "Great Mosque". As I mentioned, Xi'an has a considerable Muslim population, and is home to one of China's largest mosques. It was my first time ever visiting a mosque, and I have to say, I wish I had paid more attention during my first-year religion course, because I think that most of the finer details of the structure flew completely over my head. Unfortunately, it was raining quite heavily, so I didn't stick around too long.

Now that my mother is gone, I've changed accommodations, and I'm not staying at a youth hostel. My roommates are four roaring Scottish guys and a very quiet Japanese girl, so it should be an interesting evening.....

Excuse me, can you please get out of third gear?

Most of you already know that I don't drive. I've taken lessons, but my G1 expired awhile ago, and I've never been particularly interested in really learning the art of road travel. That being said, I do know enough about driving to know that staying permanently in third gear is not a great idea, which is apparently the gear that most Chinese drivers like to stay parked in. Correct me if I'm wrong, but when the car starts to rumble and jump, that's a sign that you should be switching gears?? For some reason, Chinese drivers like to try to hit 100km/hr in third gear, which results in a very loud and bumpy ride. Beyond that, Chinese drivers just don't seem to have any concept of road safety! Not only are a lot of taxis/vans/buses falling apart, but the obsession with speed, combined with the desire to pack people into vans/buses like a can of sardines, and the lack of road rules observation means that I spend most of my time on the road with my eyes covered, and muttering prayers under my breath. It seems as though the demarcations of lanes doesn't really mean anything, since drivers regularly straddle two lanes, wander across a six-lane highway without signalling, and often veer into oncoming traffic at extremely high speed, as though they're playing Chicken! Road travel in China is definitely not for the faint-hearted. I'm amazed that I haven't seen a major road accident yet. I can't help to laugh when people back home complain about how crazy Toronto/Montreal drivers are......

Baptism by Vomit

Today, I believe I passed a real rite of passage in traveling through China. I got puked on. No joke. I was sitting on a bus, going from Huangshan to Hangzhou, in order to catch a plane to Xi'an, when suddenly, out of nowhere, my right ankle and foot got splattered with some nice warm vomit being expelled from the kid across the aisle. I had been warned by other travelers that it would happen eventually that somewhere, somehow, it would happen. I didn't believe; well, I've officially been converted through my own baptism by vomit. It was pretty disgusting, I was not pleased, but the poor kid looked so miserable and had vomit all over his pants, I actually felt bad for him.

I'm now in Xi'an, which is a former capital of China. It's best known as the Terracotta Warriors site, which was only discovered sometime in the later 20th century. I spent the evening walking around the Muslim Quarter, which is really just one giant food stand. It was interesting, lots to see, lots to eat. If any of you brilliant folk happen to know what the difference is between mutton and lamb, let me know....I'd look it up, but since wikipedia, my source for all information, is blocked in China, I'm feeling incapable of doing a good old fashioned e-search. On the topic of food, let me just say that China is a watermelon lover's paradise. It must be watermelon season, because on every street corner, freh watermelon is on sale. In the countryside, along the road, there are dozens of stands selling watermelon from the fields behind the road. As most of you already know, I love watermelon. LOVE it. I live on the stuff during the summer time. I'm thinking of eschewing a career in the foreign service or elsewhere, and just moving to China to become a watermelon farmer.

I Am a HERO!

Apparently, in China, there's a saying that you're not a hero or a man until you've climbed the Great Wall. I was recently informed that the same applies to those who haven't climbed Huangshan (Yellow Mountain). Well, as of two hours ago, I've climbed Huangshan TWICE, so I feel entitled to the moniker of "Hero", with a capital H. Move over Jet Li! I'm still waiting for my manly bits and pieces to grow in though....Climbing Huangshan for a second time was a remarkably different experience from the first. I was here in August of 2005, and the place was just an anthill of tourists. Today, for long stretches of the climb, I was completely alone, without another human behing in sight. Also, the weather today was kind of terrible for climbing a mountain. It was thundering the entire time, and drizzly. My mom decided that her travel-wearied body just couldn't handle the 3 hour climb, so I was on my own in the rain, which was actually quite pleasant. On the topic of travels with an older parent, I can only say that although it's been nice to have my mom with me for the last week, and she'll be with me for the next week, I will be relieved when our time on the road together comes to an end. It's just an entirely different way of traveling; normally, if I'm on my own, I'd be staying at hostels, meeting other travelers, going out at night, and doing backpacker type things; with my mother, it's hotels, early evenings, and a preview of what traveling with the AARP would be like. I'm not complaining, it's nice to stay in hotels with clean washrooms and bedding that smells as though it's actually been washed recently, but traveling with my mom certainly has some drawbacks. I'm going to go get myself a massage now. Though I am a Hero, even Heroes are prone to getting a little sore after climbing a fairly steep mountain all afternoon.

Southpaws of the World, Unite!

So, in the last two weeks since arriving in Asia, I've had approximately a dozen people ask me, "why do you write with your left hand??" Now, for the Asians in the crowd, you know that in general, there's a strong cultural preference among Asians to write with your right hand; however, my parents, being the renegades that they were and still are, never enforced this with me, and thus I am a leftie. My lefthandedness is a real topic of fascination among the Chinese people I've met, you'd think that they'd never seen anyone use their left hand before! Typically, it goes as followed: I'll be writing down something for someone (my Chinese name, my email address, a book title, etc, etc...), and he/she will immediately zoom in on my writing hand; there'll be a look of confusion/awe/bewilderment/absolute horror/a furious whisper with a cohort, and then a timid, "why do you write with your left hand?" I'll do my best to explain that I've always used my left hand, that it's always been natural to me. Next, the individual will smile and nod, and say something along the lines of: "You must have a very powerful right hemisphere of your brain!" or "how wonderful!" or "you must be very smart to have mastered such a difficult talent!"....anyway, I'm not sure if they're just giving me lip service, but then secretly running home to cleanse themselves of their meeting with the devil, but I find it curious how much attention it draws. Southpaws of the world, unite! Com'on, it's common knowledge that we lefties (all 20-25% of us) are far more intelligent, creative, and better looking than the hegemonic right! I'm now in Huangshan City (Tunxi), in the Anhui province of China. Anhui is one of the poorest provinces, located in the eastern-central region of the country. Huangshan translates as "Yellow Mountain" in English. Huang=Yellow, Shan=Mountain. I was actually here two years ago on my own, but my mother really wanted to come, so I figured, why not? Huangshan is widely considered to be the most beautiful mountain in China; I believe part of "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" was filmed here, but don't quote me on it. Our plan is to climb up tomorrow during the day, and spend the night at the summit in order to see the sunrise. Last time I was here, I spent a total of 20 hours in the area, which means that I basically ran up and down the mountain, and paid dearly for it, as I couldn't really walk down stairs for the next week because I was SO sore. Hopefully this year's climb will be a little more leisurely; I'm sure it will be, I really can't see my mom running up a mountain. On a closing note, I'd like to ask anyone whose ever been to China, or better still, anyone who is from China (ahem...Daisy....Wen...ahem), what's with the rock hard beds here? Maybe I'm just spoiled by my super fancy posturepedic at home, but the beds here are about as comfortable as sleeping on a giant slab of rock. I know it's a little early on to be saying it, but I'm definitely looking forward to going home and sleeping in my own bed. I feel like an old granny when I say it, but my back just can't handle China. I'm going to go hobble off and find myself a walking cane now, so I bid you all a good night.

Becoming a Tourist Attraction

Last night, I took a train from Hangzhou to Nanjing. For those of you who may need a brush up on your Asian history, Nanjing is a former capital of China, and was the site of a major massacre committed by the Japanese during World War II. You might be familiar with the term "the rape of Nanking/Nanjing", which is a reference to the WWII event. Anyhow, I haven't actually visited any of the massacre memorial sites yet, but I image that I will be thoroughly blue afterwards. I've had the opportunity to talk to some Chinese people about their thoughts on the whole Sino-Japanese relationship, and it's sort of astonishing to hear how much genuine loathing exists, especially in younger people. I wonder how much of it is a product of the Chinese education system.Anyhow, back to my train story. I was sitting quietly on the train, minding my own business, when I noticed that the two girls sitting next to me were whispering and stealing glances in my direction; after a few minutes of consultation, one of them asked me where I was from. I guess that's all it took to break the ice, because within seconds, I was surrounded by six Chinese people, all asking me questions, wanting to know where I was from, what I was doing in China, if I had eaten dinner yet, how old I am, if I am in school, if I want to take a look at pictures of their families, etc, etc, etc... I was a total tourist attraction, it was nuts! These people knew more about American films and television that I do! They asked me if I watch "Lost" or "Prison Break", and seemed incredibly disappointed when I told them I don't. I should pick up some bootleg dvds of the shows, just to be better prepared for the next time... Within an hour or so, I had used up all of my Mandarin, so conversation kind of stalled at that point, but luckily the jovial fellow sitting across the way from me insisted that he show me how to play video games on his cellular phone, which was....okay. I'm a little rusty on playing video games; the last time I seriously played video games, "Street Fighter" was all the rage. It actually made me a little nostalgic for my youth, and makes me want to go home and find a console!

Like a Virgin....Smelling Shit for the Very First Time

So, I've only been in Asia for a little more than a week, but I feel like I can say with absolute confidence and certainty that Madonna's "Like A Virgin" is the single most popular song in all of China. It's the song that serenades you as you buy shoes, wait for trains, eat in restaurants, and pee in public washrooms. I've noticed that popular music in China is a healthy mix of 90s pop (Bryan Adams is HUGE), smooth jazz (a la Kenny G), and a touch of Christmas music for good measure. I'm now in Hangzhou, which is about 1 1/2 hours away from Shanghai. Actually, that's not true; Hangzhou is normally about 3 hours away from Shanghai, but thanks to a snazzy new bullet train that started running a couple of months ago, you can now get here in just under 80 minutes. Hangzhou is quite a scenic town, it's famous for "West Lake", which is quite a lovely body of water. This evening I tried "Beggar's Chicken", which is a Hangzhou speciality; it is a whole chicken that has been wrapped in lotus leaves and baked in a clay pot. To be totally honest, I didn't find it to be particularly wonderful...in fact, I thought it was kind of tasteless. My mom, however, couldn't stop talking about how great it was, and how fantastic it is to eat a Hangzhou speciality in Hangzhou.Speaking of food, tonight, I was walking down the street, minding my own business, when suddenly, BAM! I was assaulted by the most vile odour I've ever encountered. It was stinky tofu being freshly fried in a pot on the side of the road. Now for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, stinky tofu is a preserved tofu that smells like shit. SHIT. S-H-I-T. It's powerful stuff, I swear, you could have smoked Saddam out of his hole by wafting in the scent of stinky tofu. Anyhow, what is most shocking is that the stuff is incredibly popular! My mom loves the stuff...she says it brings her back to the sunny days of her youth. In any case, although I think that frying stinky tofu on the side of the road should be made a crime punishable by law, I am quite amazed by how much food is available at street stalls here. Not only the quantity, but the selection and the price. You can get just about anything you want on the side of the road...stinky tofu? done. rack of lamb? sure, why the hell not? fried egg? no problem. Fresh cut mango? sounds good to me! One last thing: I was walking around looking for a good coffee shop this morning (I've come to accept that I can't function without a cup of coffee in the morning), and decided to ask a local guy on the side of the road. He began to tell me about this AMAZING coffee shop around the corner. He'd never been there before because it was too damn expensive, but he imagined that it must be fantastic because they charged so much and so many lao wei (foreigners) went there and sat for hours. He told me that I'd probably never had anything like it before, and that it must be really special....he walked me around the corner, and led me straight to a Starbucks.

Friendly Cab Drivers

So, if there's one thing that I really love about traveling in China, it's definitely the cheap cab rates, and the generally friendly drivers. In Shanghai, the flag falls at 11RMB, which is the equivalent of approximately 1.75$ CAD. The first 2KM is 11RMB, and subsequent distance is something like 1RMB/KM, which is ridiculously cheap. On those lazy early mornings in Toronto, trying to get to SFUX for 5:15am, a three minute cab ride sets me back 8 bad boys, so I'm savouring the distance my dollar takes me here.Cab drivers in China have been hit and miss in the past, but these last few days, I've had a string of good luck with very talkative men who seem to relish the idea of teaching a young "lao wei" (Chinese for "foreigner") some local talk. They're so impressed with my pathetic mandarin language skills, it's pretty ridiculous. I've had a cab driver try to teach me all of the key phrases for bargaining at the market ("too expensive!" "are you trying to make me laugh??" "that's my last offer!"...), another talk to me about the politics of living in Shanghai, but not being from Shanghai, and another one tell me all about his new grandson. Hopefully I'll have similarly friendly cab drivers outside of Shanghai. I'm leaving Shanghai tonight, but first, I'm off to get a massage and do some walking and shopping around some of the back alleys of Shanghai. I still haven't figured out how to take the photos off of my camera and put them on the computer, so....this may be a non-illustrated blog......if any one of you can tell me how to do the transfer thing, that would be fantastic, because I, as most of you already know, am a total luddite.

Stressed in Shanghai

Within 24 hours of arriving in Shanghai, I managed to lose my mother. Holy SHH****TTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My mom and I have traveled together in the past, and it's always been fine, but somehow in a tiny museum, I managed to lose her for three frickin' hours. I wasn't too concerned, because she speaks mandarin, and knows the address of the hotel we're staying at, but still, if I lost my mother in Shanghai, and something happened to her, I would be facing certain crucifixion...so after wandering around for a few hours looking everywhere for her, I decided that it would be best to return to the hotel, knowing that we had a dinner date with my cousin in the evening, and she would probably find her way back there eventually. When I got back to the room, lo and behold, who do I find napping peacefully in bed? I feel like a dodged a real bullet........

Blocked in China

So, along with the BBC, CBS, Wikipedia, Google, and CNN, it turns out that the host for my travel blog is also a blocked website in China. I can live without my blog, but what the hell am I going to do without the BBC or Wiki??Greetings from the Motherland! I got to Shanghai last night, and am about to head out for the day. Thankfully, Shanghai is considerably cooler than Hong Kong, although the air pollution here is probably a thousand times worse...I don't think I'll be seeing the sun for a few days.