Retrospective on Southeast Asia
(October 14- November 11, 2005)
Nine day land tour of China, 16 day cruise, and 3 day land tour in Bangkok, all under the auspices of Princess Cruise Lines
We made the decision to go to Southeast Asia in 5 minutes while visiting friends just before Christmas in '04.
"We just booked a tour to the Orient," they told us. "Wanna come?"
Wren looked at me.
"Shall we go?"
"Sure," I said. Right there and then he called the travel agent and booked us on a month's trip for the following October. The price was good, and our friends had already done the research and planned the perfect itinerary.
Throughout the holidays I couldn't sleep at all. I am not adventurous, and though I've always wanted to visit exotic places, I hate to fly and am good at imagining every possibly hazard awaiting us. Tsunamis, bird flu, malaria, typhoid-there were endless things to worry about, but my terror was also mixed with great excitement about seeing the other side of the world. And I worried that I might not calm down for the entire 10 months before our departure.
I did eventually put the trip on the back burner, and not until summer did we actually start our preparations. I knew immunizations are important, but we had varying advice, and our own doctor wasn't recommending anything, so we ended up getting very few. I was more concerned about the diseases for which there were no vaccines and certainly intended to be careful about what I ate and drank.
We were far too casual applying for our China visa (which cannot be done by mail), not realizing that you must get it only through the consulate assigned to the state you reside in, and ours was in Texas. We had friends in DC who were also coming on the trip (we had talked them into it right after we signed up), and we assumed they could get ours when they got theirs. There are numerous visa services out there, but we were too cheap to pay the extra $90 for what seemed like an easy task so we sent them our passports and our money. Our friends informed us that DC was not the place for us, but they promised to try. If they failed, we would be rushing to Texas from Maine and then to Florida where our trip originated. Fortunately our friends' diplomatic status worked to our advantage, and we did get our visas in time.
In the final stages of planning there was infinite communication back and forth about luggage, baggage allowance, drugs, clothing, shoes, weather, exchange rates, and all of our friends who had been to Asia had advice. Bring toilet paper was the major recommendation of one friend. Bring lots of dollar bills from another. Take an aspirin before the long flight from a neighbor. My daughter wanted us to get compression socks to prevent blood clots. Another friend sent us No-Jet-Lag, an herbal concoction, along with ear plugs and a face mask. Someone's daughter provided a porous shawl to keep out germs and provide warmth on the plane. We all bought snacks, soft elastic-waist pants and micro-bead pillows. We dragged our luggage onto the scales to be sure we weren't overweight, and realized ninety-eight percent of the contents of our suitcases was made in China as well as the suitcases themselves. Why didn't we just start empty handed.
About a week before departure, I returned to my hyperactive state in which I couldn't sleep I was so excited/worried. By the time I arrived at the airport, I had developed all kinds of symptoms, not a good way to begin a 24 hour flight.
Twelve of us, each couple knowing at least some of the others, finally set out for Beijing. Half of us started on the leg from Tampa to Dallas followed by a 13 hour flight that got us as far as Tokyo, where we had a three hour wait for the last leg. Japanese Airlines served us dinner in a maroon gift box artfully decorated with boughs of pink flowers. A steaming square of rice was enclosed in wrapping paper and tied with string. It was clear we were not in America anymore.
Finally settled in a very classy hotel in Beijing, we were allowed to sleep briefly (most of us slept hardly at all since day and night were now mixed up by a 12 hour time change) and bused to the Great Wall in three buses (a total of 94 people on the land tour). We met our first Asian salesmen accosting us as we boarded, but we were just getting a feel for China and most of us resisted the Rolexes, "two for five dolla." We later got into the swing, and I doubt if any of us came home without at least one. Others of us preferred the Chairman Mao watches, his big fist waving on the dial.
The Great Wall which 2000 years ago extended over 4000 miles, still exists in long chunks throughout northern China. We visited the Badaling site where this massive structure meanders through the mountains with purpose, dragon-like and powerful. If there was ever any doubt about the potential of the Chinese, walking along the wall, watching it curl around the mountainside was assurance that these people can do anything they set their mind to. I was surprised at how steep and difficult the climb was and as I struggled up the incline, I felt very small. We were not alone on the wall, but were pressed on all sides by Chinese tourists. This was my first inkling of exactly how many people there are in this vast country.
Later the same day we visited the Summer Palace, known best for its beautiful landscape gardens. The dowager Empress Cixi, so the story goes, lived here insisting nine courses be prepared for her every meal, enough food in a week to feed all the peasants for a whole year. Pavilions, towers, bridges, and long corridors are set on a lake with willows, paths, greenery, and scenic views across the water. What we saw best were the paintings on the ceilings as we looked up, but in every other direction were masses of people. One out of every five humans on earth is Chinese.
Our first Chinese meal was a breakfast buffet at our five star hotel. I had sushi and dumplings and steamed buns and watermelon juice. One could have eggs, bacon, and Danish, or congee with condiments, or waffles with berries. There were probably a hundred selections. There were dragon fruit and melons, stir fried vegetables, noodle soups.
We ate our next meal at a cloisonne factory where we saw young women (they looked like young teens) working diligently making intricate vases for sale at high prices. The artwork was beautiful, but the workers take home only a couple of hundred dollars a month. Although there are child labor laws in China, they are not enforced, and sweatshops are producing all those goods shipped to the US. We were served at least ten different Chinese dishes, brought one at a time to our lazy susan, the traditional way to serve meals at all the restaurants we patronized. Dessert was almost always watermelon.
We flew to Xian a city of seven million people. When we arrived our local guide remarked on how lucky we were to have such a beautiful day. The sun shone faintly through a smoky blur. I wondered if he was being facetious, but apparently this was the best it gets. Xian was gray, rundown, and depressing. Home of the terracotta warriors, discovered in the 1970's buried in the ground, the city now gets millions of tourists. The warriors are life size, and had been buried for 2,200 years. Now housed in a huge museum, many are still being restored, they are known as the eighth wonder of the world. Created by order of a king who began his reign at age 13, they were buried with him to protect him in the afterlife. The museum had a large restaurant where two noodles makers were flinging dough in the air and creating long strands, which grew before our eyes. The rice noodle soup was superb.
Chongqing is technically a city of 30 million, but that includes the whole province. An attempt has been made to replace coal with natural gas for cooking so the air is cleaner than in other areas, and the hilly city was modern and attractive. We visited three pandas, who lived up to their reputation as soft and cuddly as long as they were fed apples nonstop. Pandas are solitary creatures with a low sex drive and with their natural bamboo habitat diminishing, they have become endangered. Some of us got to hug the pandas, who appeared very docile and appealing.
The Yangtze River is yellow brown, polluted, with floating debris. We spent three days on the Victoria Star moving down the river in a chilly drizzle, admiring the three gorges, whose beauty is fast disappearing as China completes the Three Gorges Dam Project, the largest dam in the world. The water level has already risen over numerous towns along the banks and caused 1.3 million people to be relocated. We explored the lesser gorges in a small boat and finally transferred to a sampan to go up a tiny tributary. Our driver sang to us as did people hidden in the hillside along the route.
Dr. Hu, young and handsome in his silk pajamas taught us Tai Chi every morning at six-thirty before breakfast at seven, followed by shore excursions at eight. The first day we climbed hundreds of wooden steps to the Red Pagoda and shopped our way down the mountain at vendors in little stalls selling silk jackets, chop sticks, purses, scarves, and fake jade. We were overwhelmed and just learning how to bargain, and later looked back and wished we'd bought much more. Never again did we see so many lovely things so cheap.
Most everyone really liked the Yangtze River cruise. I was severely sleep deprived at that point, and was still waking up at 2 am thinking it was morning. I found the stark steep mountains enclosing us to be a little frightening, like ghostly walls in the gloom, and with the dirty water under us, the rain, the confines of the boat, I felt enclosed in a world I didn't understand, and I kept trying to imagine what it could possibly be like to live along this river. We saw little life along the way because so many of the peasant villages are under water, wiped out forever, adding more pollution to the third longest river in the world. Yet the staff bent over backwards to please us, especially the young Chinese girls who had perfected their English and their manners, and danced for us every night in native silk costumes.
At the end of our river cruise, we were bused to Wuhan to fly back to Beijing since there wasn't a big enough airport any closer. The road was under construction so the trip took six hours. Instead of working on one section of highway at a time, they had ripped up several hundred miles at once, leaving a single ragged and bumpy lane. We drove through the smoggy countryside past the rice paddies, watching the farmers in the fields using their water buffalo. There were no cars on the road-only 3% of the country owns cars and they are in the cities-but the many trucks with barrel shaped canvas tops refused to let us pass. We arrived late at the Shangra-la Hotel in Wuhan, tired, hungry, and disgruntled, and were escorted to Octoberfest in progress. Thrust into a large hall with a German buffet accompanied by loud and lively music and pitchers of beer, it all felt totally out of context. The highlight of the day was meeting ten little girls in the hotel lobby who were celebrating a birthday and were very excited to meet Americans. They asked all about us with the small amount of English they could speak.
Barely a few miles from Wuhan, a bustling city of 8 million, we visited a farmhouse so we could see how the peasants, 70% of the population of 1.3 billion lived. Ninety-four American tourists filed off three buses and down a path through the weeds. It was a chilly morning in the 50's. The family whose home we visited were all standing outside, excited to see us, smiling at the privilege of having Americans enter their home. They were happy to have their picture taken with us, refusing money-they spoke no English, but our guide was translator.
We walked into the stone building in horror with our cameras ready to record the cave like interior. The floors were dirt, the kitchen hardly recognizable as such-a small cooking surface and little else. A dozen pairs of shoes lined the wall and seemed to be their major possessions. There were no doors and no heat for the long cold winters. On the stoop was a part of a bloody fish an old man was cutting up for lunch. Chickens guaranteed healthy were running around in the yard, but the sight of them sent many of us scurrying back to the bus.
On our return to Beijing, we visited Tiananmen Square early in the morning, but already this endless open area was crowded with people, and a long line waited to view the tomb of Mao. In spite of the horrors of the Cultural Revolution, Mao is revered by every Chinaman we encountered, and standing in the square one views his portrait, bigger than life across the street.
The Forbidden City where royalty once lived is a maze of interlocking buildings that fit together like a puzzle, and once you've entered one, you must keep going till you reach the end. In years past when royalty lived there, entrance was forbidden and the penalty was instant death. Large courtyards separate each pagoda-like structure painted in reds and golds and adorned with dragons and lions. One building would have been enough, but we saw them all.
The water system in China is polluted, and most of us used bottled water even to brush our teeth. Wren and I found ourselves hoarding water as the week progressed, so that by the time we reached the cruise ship, we each had five or six bottles in our suitcases. I found it amusing how important something we take so much for granted in the US became to us.
We learned to say hello and thank you in Chinese, and to recognize the Chinese character for big. Our guide Jin, who stayed with us for the nine days of the land tour, was organized, efficient, informative, and caring. He felt like our protector in a very foreign land. He gave out room keys for every hotel before we even got off the bus, and our luggage was always waiting for us in the room. I appreciated him even more when we got to Bangkok and saw how hopeless guides can be. We also had local guides who spewed government propaganda but also interesting facts.
We had three short flights on China Air to transport us from Beijing to Xian, Xian to Chongqing,, and back to Beijing. I am not a flier and I was leery of an airline that used to be known as Cancelled Again, but all three flights were efficient and problem free. On one we had several female airline personnel fighting furiously because the 94 "long noses" had huge carry ons. Our loyal guide Jin fought for us to keep them, but in the end several of us including me had to give up our bags to the luggage compartment. On the other hand, the last flight which was only an hour and a half served a full lunch flawlessly with time to spare.
On our final night in Beijing we attended a farewell banquet where part of the entertainment was the Peking Opera. We had already been exposed once to Chinese song at a special dinner in Xian, but this was even worse. Western ears have no tolerance for the harsh, shrill tones that are great music to the Chinese. These highly trained voices just sounded like shrieking banshees.
When we got to the Dawn Princess, I finally began to sleep, and was much more relaxed the rest of the trip. Having a day at sea to rest between each port helped us all. We had an excellent lecturer, Chuck Richardson, a retired professor who spoke on each country before we arrived, and he was refreshingly different from our local guides. He gave us a broad perspective on each country's politics, religion, history, and sights, which was far more than just what each government wanted us to believe.
Nagasaki greeted us with fireboats spewing water since our ship was made there, and this was the first return visit. Japan had clean air and sunshine, and we rode the tram to Peace Park, packed in with the natives. Large groups of Japanese children were holding graduation ceremonies beyond the fountain, in front of Peace Memorial Statue. They were all dressed in navy blue uniforms and very excited to see Americans. We walked to Ground Zero, the epicenter, which is marked with a spiked black pillar. Nearby was a statue of a mother and baby, in honor of the 75,000 people who died from the bomb on August 9, 1945, 11:02 A.M, the majority being women, children, and the elderly. The bomb had been intended for another city, but the weather necessitated a last minute change in plans.
In Shanghai we docked at a container port out of the city. We had signed up for a tour, so were bused to town and taken to the top of the Jin Mao Tower, the third tallest building in the world. One could see all of the city below with the contrast of new and old buildings, the old stately bank buildings along the Bund, and the modern sky scrapers. Shanghai has a population of 17 million and is a vibrant and attractive and fast paced city that has grown rapidly in the past ten years. We visited Wu Gardens in the old city, a combination of pagodas, dragons, water, bridges, rocks, and trees, and then walked to the knockoff market. I found the market overwhelming with hundreds of stalls and very pushy merchants. It was impossible to examine the merchandise and make up your own mind as each stall keeper grabbed at you and told you what you wanted to buy. The Chinese have no understanding of personal space.
In Okinawa we toured Shurijo Castle in hot sunshine and wandered in the lovely gardens with views of the city. We walked to town to shop, but prices in Japan were very high. We surveyed every aisle in a supermarket where the produce and the meats were enticing, and the cans and packages were unidentifiable since we don't read Japanese. There was no sign of English anywhere in this city, making it difficult to follow a map and get around.
We missed Taiwan because we were on the tail of a typhoon, giving us 40 knot winds and very rough seas. The weather made it too difficult and unsafe to dock so we had an extra day to relax.
We were disappointed to dock at a container port in Hong Kong, but shuttled into this international city (population 10 million) where everything is written in Chinese and English. Our shuttle stopped in Kowloon next to a modern shopping mall with over 600 stores with all the best names: Burbury, Cartier, Gucci, and names so fancy I'd never heard of them.
To get to Hong Kong Island, we took the Star ferry across the harbor. The trip takes about 7 minutes, costs 30 cents, and is as famous as the one to Staten Island. Chinese adults and teens were all hustling onto the ferry to get somewhere.
We took the tram to Victoria Peak to look out over the city which is always smoggy. The trip was straight up the side of the mountain, and we were all wedged in and had to stand up at an impossible angle. We made a stop half way up, and I wondered if we would all plunge back down to the bottom. We opted for a taxi to take us down, and were driven to the famous Stanley Market. We found the vendors much less aggressive than in the rest of China, but they wouldn't bargain either, and prices were not as good as in Beijing or along the Yangtze.
The captain of the Diamond Princess was given permission to sail up through Hong Kong Harbor so we got to see the city at night. The Chinese love neon, and the skyscrapers were lit up in reds, greens, and purples as we passed through. All 3000 passengers were up on deck with their cameras.
Vietnam is more obviously a third world country than any other we visited. I liked it best. Where China's massive cities are glutted with cars and pollution, in Vietnam, motor scooters are the primary transportation. The few cars were taxis. Many of the women still wear native dress, a caftan with slits up the side over long pants, all silk. The young girls on their scooters are very lovely except for the scarves they wear over their faces, which make them look like bandits. They think white skin is more attractive than dark and the scarves protect them from the sun.
Ho Chi Minh City had wide boulevards with flowers, the French influence, but the power lines were large circular rat's nests, and crossing the street was scary. We were told to simply walk across with all the motor scooters coming at you, not to run, not to back up no matter what, and the scooters would flow around us. The system seemed to work, but I always made sure I was surrounded by several people so I wouldn't be the first hit. Pedestrians didn't seem to be an obstacle the scooters paid much attention to.
Since our ship docked 80 kilometers from the city, we took a bus that took 2 ½ hours. There were no highways, but only crowded local roads with homes and businesses all along the way.
The market place had rows and rows of everything from sponges to food to crafts and silks. At lunch time each stall owner simply squatted on the ground and ate a bowl of rice with bits of vegetable and condiments on top. The pungent odor of fish sauce saturated the air as we bargained for laquerware, a specialty of the nation, baskets, purses, and silk. Prices were cheaper in Vietnam than most anywhere else, and I couldn't resist some silk pants and a conical hat. The hats are worn extensively in the fields and even in the cities to keep off the hot sun. Carrying the hat home on four different flights was awkward, however, and wearing it off the plane in Tampa, I had a few strange looks.
Nha Trang is a pretty resort town with broad sandy beaches and palm trees. We visited a giant sitting Buddha and an enormous reclining Buddha, where little girls sold bottles of water and incense to the tourists. We also went to an old Hindu temple and were allowed inside shoeless, to see people praying and leaving fruit as sacrifices. Bright blue fishing boats lined the harbors.
Singapore is so modern and sparkling, it is hard to believe it's in Asia. Life is highly controlled and spitting and gum chewing are punishable with big fines. The cars are new and expensive and they stop for pedestrians. No motor scooters appeared, the air is pure, and everyone speaks English. They are a country trying to increase their population whereas the others are desperately trying to decrease births. The river is clean and lined with a combination of old and new architecture, painted one story buildings in reds and yellows, and sky scrapers, silver arching bridges, and fancy shops. Merlion Park along the banks of the river is spotless with a statue of the merlion (half mermaid, half lion) spewing water from her mouth. The country is in love with the lion, though none have ever roamed this land, and the tigers, once prevalent have become scarce.
We had a Singapore Sling at the Long Bar of the famous Raffles Hotel. Large bowls of unshelled peanuts were on the tables, shells on the floor, and little song birds were fluttering around in the rafters.
We had three days in Bangkok after the cruise. On our way from Laem Chabang where we docked at another container port, we stopped to see an elephant show. The elephant is revered in Thailand and fast disappearing. These elephants could play soccer, bowl, throw darts, paint on an easel, dance, twirl hoops, ride bicycles, and walk over rows of people without stepping on them. They were rewarded by the audience with bananas which they stuffed in their mouths, peel and all. A few lucky people were held by the elephants, and some of us went for an elephant ride.
Bangkok has the worst traffic congestion I've ever seen. Cars, taxis, trucks and buses, motor scooters, tuk tuks just sit on the streets and don't move. Noise, air pollution, the brown river, the crowds of people eating satay or noodles on the street from line after line of small street stalls make up this hectic city. One day we made the mistake of taking a taxi during lunch hour. The driver was a slimy guy who spoke no English, so we never exchanged a single word. As we sat still for nearly 20 minutes surrounded by cars, honking, and heat, our driver picked at his face with a razor. I thought I was going to be sick.
But Bangkok has the most magnificent buildings we saw anywhere in Asia. Covered with intricate mosaic designs in reds, blues, and gold, topped with golden spires, the Temple of the Emerald Buddha (over a hundred buildings) and the Royal Palace are dazzling. The Golden Buddha is actually 5.5 tons of solid gold. The image was pasted over by stucco to fool the looting Burmese army in the eighteenth century, and was accidentally discovered to be of solid gold only in the 50's.
The cuisine also is excellent and inexpensive, and we sampled curries, soups, Pad Thai, and many dishes we weren't familiar with, enjoying everything. We also discovered that the skywalk up over the highway was a pleasant way to travel and was much faster than vehicles.
Just down the street from our hotel, The Four Seasons, was a Taoist shrine called the Erawan where believers came to make a wish and leave a sacrifice, and when the wish came true, they were obliged to return and pay the dancers to perform their thanks. About a dozen dancing girls were undulating nonstop, night and day anytime we passed by, dressed in vibrant colored silk pants and jackets and with pointed headdresses like the gold spires of the temples. Their hands moved through the air like fish waving through the currents. Those wishing to give thanks often took their turn dancing with the girls and then lighting candles and leaving gifts (lots of flowers and fruit) on the shrine. The whole block was smoky with incense, and the shrine becomes so filled with sacrificial gifts, that they must be removed every 2 hours. This shrine became a landmark for me and one of the most fascinating sights in Asia. I liked seeing life happening now rather than viewing a relic of the past, and the fervor and passion and activity on that street corner would have been beyond my imagination before the trip.
We walked to the Night Market before dark through a park where scrawny feral cats stalked roofs and scampered up trees. The market also was heavy with the scent of incense, and in each stall an owner was setting up and eating dinner on the floor. Silk in every form was for sale as well as furniture, watches, shoes, purses, clothing, and jewelry.
I really liked Bangkok in spite of its madness. A city of ten million, we barely scratched the surface. We took a boat ride on the Chao Phaya River and fed bread to the snake head fish, which were later served to us whole and deep fried. We admired and many of us bought Thai rubies and sapphires. We toured the Jim Thompson house, owned by an American who revitalized the Thai silk industry in the 50's and disappeared in Malaysia in the next decade. The house is made of teak and filled with antiques and artwork and surrounded by a tropical garden.
At the end of our month stay we flew home, taking 35 hours and four flights. The trip keeps growing in significance the longer we're back, and now I feel as if I've had at least a small glimpse of life half way around the world.