Photo Collection: Hainan Province (Southern China)
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thursday, March 13, 2008
March 14th - Farewell to thee Dear China
I am sad to say that this will be my last blog entry from Chinese soil. I might do a final “wrap-up” edition or something when I get home, but I'm not sure yet. I'll still have the amazing journey home to write about, but I don't know. I don't really want to spoil it, y'know? But then again, I did start this blog before I left Canada, so I might as well finish it there too. Ok, enough pandering, time to recap!
I've been in China for nearly 7 weeks now, and I've experienced all sorts of new things that I've never seen before. The food, the people and their strange, sometimes backwards customs, the pollution, crazy drivers, and of course, a new language. I am disappointed with myself for not making more of an effort to learn the language in the years leading up to this trip. I knew, marrying a Chinese girl, that this day would come, but I guess I'm still trying to learn to use English to its full potential, and a totally new language might throw my writing off-kilter. Yeah, that's a pretty good excuse. I'll use that one.
I never really thought about how differently people think and act in different countries around the world. In Canada, you can pretty much think and do anything you want as long as you don’t hurt anyone or break any laws. Even then, there is a lot of leeway on freedoms, and rules can indeed be bent. Not so over here in China. Sure, nobody really follows traffic laws, and I'm pretty sure the majority of people cheat on their taxes over here, but in the privacy of the family home, there are more rules, customs and pressures than we could ever handle in Canada. To start with, most families are very patriarchal, with the father or mother calling all the shots, and I guess dictating what other people should do without ever facing any backlash. Sure, I respect my elders and war veterans and the like, but we have sort of an understanding that times have changed, and what they know might not necessarily be right for today's youth. In China, you can't say that to a parent. Mommy or Daddy knows best, and that's just the way it is.
Gift-giving is very strange in China. Most people won't accept gifts, and will physically harm you if you try to pick up the bill at a restaurant. I think it could be one of two things; Either everyone is too proud to accept gifts because it might show that they are needy; or maybe, gifts are two often given under false pretenses over here. That is, the only reason some people will give a gift, is that they can now expect something in return. I actually felt this first hand. On my arrival, I asked a family member where I could exchange some Canadian dollars for Chinese Yuan. I've heard about currency control over here, and that you can't just walk into a store and purchase something in Canadian, or even US dollars. You have to go through a few channels to get money exchanged, and it often takes a while. I could have done it at the airport back in Vancouver, but I was in too much of a rush to even think about it. Anyway, the family member scoffed at my request, and said something like “You're our guest. Anything you want, just ask and we'll buy it for you.” That sounded a bit too good to be true, and was indeed said under false pretenses.
My wife was heading out to the mall one day and asked me if I needed anything. I asked if she could get me a pair of shorts to take back to Canada – it will be too hot to run in my jogging pants when the temperature warms up a bit. She said fine, but when she returned, there was a huge argument between her and the family member who originally made the offer. It was believed that I had demanded the shorts, and not offered to pay for them. Hey, if money is an issue, I have a whole pile of Canadian bills sitting here that nobody wants me to exchange. That bird has flown the coop. If you didn't want to buy me anything, why ask me? People have bought me things, but only when they were chosen by someone else and given to me because they figured I could use it. A scarf for example, was given to me by a family member. I’ll never use that scarf again back in Vancouver, but during the whole shorts argument, the value of said scarf was brought up, and how I've already received so much, how could I be so greedy to ask for something I want? Heck, I thought that was the deal in exchange for not exchanging any money? Maybe I misunderstood. I guess I received under false pretenses.
To combine the patriarchal and gift-giving scenarios, there is a Chinese custom that parents should always put their children through college. This would be fine if the kid got to decide what to study, where, and what sort of certificate they wanted i.e how far to go. My wife for instance, was sent to Canada with the understanding that she would receive a Doctor's degree and one day return to China to help better the country. Her path was already chosen for her. But once she got out of the country and discovered that Canadian students can choose their own major, decide when they’ve had enough or even drop out, then I think the 2 cultures clashed. Still to this day, she receives pressure from her family to keep going to school. She already has a Bachelor's Degree, which is more than I can say for myself, but apparently that is not enough.
I used to think that if somebody wanted to pay for my education, than I'd be all for it. Actually, money is the only thing that's preventing me from going back to school at this time. (Let's just say I want to get one student loan paid off before I sign up for another one.) But with the added pressure, I don't think I'd want to accept the money. There we go with the giving under false pretenses scenario again. I get the sense that there is no such thing as “no strings attached” over here. My mother-m-law actually offered to lend me the money to go back to school, but I decided to politely decline. There's no telling what type of trash talk would go on if I took that money. And what would the repayment schedule be like? “As long as you owe me this money, I own you?” I'd rather pass on the offer thanks. It's very nice that you'd offer it and bring up the Chinese culture and what not, but my own personal culture, no matter what country I'm from, says that I live and die for one thing – myself. Not in the selfish sense, like I don't think of anyone else's feelings. I'm just not going to do something because someone else thinks it would be good for me. If I want to go back to school badly enough, I'll find a way to pay for it, and then nobody can take credit in my success. I could probably write a whole book on that subject, but I won't. Let's just leave it at this: I live by DIY ethics and I'll probably starve to death by them, but there's nothing anybody can do to change that about me.
Now that I've covered the family politics to some degree, I think I should brush on actual politics. We live in a democratic society (or at least we think we do) where the people control the government. If we don't like something or if something smells fishy, the people of Canada will mostly step up and voice their opinions. You see this with MAWO (Mobilization Against War and Occupation) and other such organizations stepping up to protest Canada's potential involvement in the travesty that is the war in Iraq. If leaders in our community step up, politicians are forced to listen, or get out and bring in someone new who will listen to the people who elected him or her. Sure there are flaws, every system has flaws, but let's look back at that bolded statement I made back there. Here in China, the opposite can be said. The government controls the people. Actually, most Chinese people criticize the West for giving too much control to common citizens. Afterall, how would they know how to run a country? They just live there and pay the taxes that buy their so-called representatives a cushy salary and all the perks you could imagine and then some. It’s that way of thinking that leads to a very unhappy populace and eventually they are gonna revolt – unless of course you put the fear into ‘em.
Religion is not very popular here in China, at lease not practicing it. There are still rituals taking place on every street corner though, which I think are more of a tool to control people from rising up and speaking their mind. The Taoist religion, as well as Buddhism are still engrained in Chinese society, whether or not people are going to a temple and praying. Every time someone dies in China, there are mourners who pay their respects in interesting, if not peculiar ways. For example, I see small bonfires on street corners all around Harbin, where locals burn fake money in a little pile. I'm sure they burn real money too, but I see little carts everywhere that sell funny money just to burn in memory of a loved one. Don't ask me how that got started, but I'm sure it helps the economy. “Burn what you earn! The paper bills are just about worthless anyway! The more you burn, the more you'll help to curb inflation!” I think the U.S. is trying to do the opposite now – they are printing money faster than Disney prints coloring books, but maybe they should burn a stack of greenbacks for every US soldier who has lost his or her life in pointless wars. Now that'll get the economy back on track. It's the fashionable thing to do over here in China, why not join in?
Speaking of fashion, there are some articles of clothing that have religious or cultural tie-ins. No, I'm not talking about Buddha t-shirts or monk's cloaks, but adornments that show a certain thing about you, without you having to say a word. I mentioned earlier about the ways of mourning the dead over here. Well, there is one other tradition that I found to be interesting. If you see someone with a black cloth pinned around their arm (much like Jewish POWs back in WWII) then it means a parent has recently died. Different arm means different parent, and it varies for boys or girls. This might be wrong, but I think it's “boy's left arm = father died” &“Girl's left arm = mother died”. Also, if there is a smaller, red cloth wrapped on top of the black one, it means a grandparent died. Same goes; different arm for each gender. I suppose if you see someone wearing this, you are supposed to move out of their way on the street or maybe not cut in front of them in line. I'm not sure the exact reason for displaying the colour black like that. Maybe it's just a respect for the dead thing, but it's pretty common to know somebody who has died if you live over here. Afterall, with such a huge population, somebody is bound to die every minute or so.
That brings me to the population. It's huge! In the northern city of Harbin, it's not quite as evident as some of the larger cities. It's still overblown here, but I think the colder climate and the more industry-heavy economy has driven, or at least kept the people who aren't as tough away. When I went to Beijing, I saw the other side of the coin. There's a city on the move, with a technology-based economy and an ever-growing, youth-oriented group of professionals taking over. In Canada, our nation is dominated by the Baby Boomers, or those approaching senior-citizenry, but in Beijing, I think it's going in the other direction. It seems like the youth movement is strong there, and retirement is probably better enjoyed some place quieter and slower-paced. I for one don't want to be dodging speeding traffic and being pushed and shoved on a subway platform when I'm 90. But then again, that's just me. Maybe Beijing will be the headquarters for a new youth movement where the old patriarchal ideals are obliterated. For the sake of the next generation, I sure hope so.
Such a huge population would undoubtedly cause more problems than just congested automobile and pedestrian traffic. I can tell that the health care system in China is pretty much inaccessible for the majority of people, unless they have money. I could tell that by the number or frost-bitten, toeless people wailing at the marketplace, and the general ignorance for one's personal well-being. Maybe it's considered selfish to go to the doctor's office for that little scrape. Heck, you can stitch that up yourself! Michael Moore should come over here and do “Sicko Vol 2”. He might be shocked at what he sees. I did hear something interesting though. If you give blood in China, a monetary credit can be put towards your next medical bills. Most people will just take the cash, but if you are really responsible, you can realize the full potential of that intravenous insurance policy flowing through your veins. As Canada, BC in particular, flirts with the idea of “pay-for-priority” and private medical clinics, maybe this blood idea would come in handy. I gotta say, China is one step up in that regard. I once asked a nurse at Canadian Blood Services why I don't get paid my blood, and she told me that if money was offered, the wrong type of donors would be attracted. A.k.a. people who really need the money. Then, if someone is turned away, they will be furious. Actually, the nurse said that they used to pay for blood back in the old days, but too many people were lying on that questionnaire they get you to fill out, and it ends up putting more of a strain on the medical system because they have to re-test the blood and destroy it if it turns out to be unsafe.
Let's talk about safety for a moment. Yesterday I say 2 men repairing some bricks on the side of a tall apartment building. There they were, hanging in the air on a backyard swing propelled from a rather frayed-looking rope, held by a young fellow up on the roof. No safety harness, no net to catch them in case they fell. You wouldn’t catch me up there, that's for sure. Actually, if I fell, nobody would catch me DOWN there either, and that's precisely why I wouldn't do it. Seatbelts are another topic of discussion. When my wife and I get into a taxi, we immediately buckle up. I don't know if it's a force of habit for her, but I do it for my personal safety and mental well-being. Drivers immediately know we are foreigners because “Nobody wears a seat belt around here.” Some taxis don't even offer seatbelts, and forget about bracing for impact. My wife got ragged on for putting her foot up against the glove box while we sped into oncoming traffic. She was honestly bracing for impact. But do you think the driver apologized for making his passengers feel uncomfortable? No, he insulted her for having no manners, and started saying that her parents must not have done a very good job of raising someone with no manners. What a joke! If you saw the way people drive over here, you'd fear for your life too!
Life in China must be difficult for a young person today. I'm edging up on 25 now, so I'm not exactly a child, but I still feel inadequate over here. The whole “respect your elders” credo has gotten a bit out of hand, to the point that you can't disagree with someone if they are older than you by a couple of weeks. Even calling someone older than you by their first name is rude. You are supposed to address him as “uncle” regardless of your family relations. Here we might have the most ignorant, chain-smoking alcoholic loser in the world, but I still have to glorify him by calling him “uncle”. No thanks.
I'm thankful for being brought along on this trip. Don't take my above observations as a sign of dislike for the Chinese people or anything like that. Quite the contrary! Besides, I don't want to get shot or “disappear” as so many people over here do. I've just noticed a few things that have made my trip a bit uncomfortable at times, but I'm glad I got to experience a new culture like this. If I never left my comfy Canadian lifestyle, I wouldn't ever be able to appreciate what an easy life we all have in the great white north. Sure, we may complain that there are too many people in the crowded parking lots, and how the movie theatre is always packed when we try to get a good seat, but believe me, it could be a lot worse. I think I might actually start appreciating what we have in Canada before it's gone. This trip has at least opened my eyes to that.
There are lots of positive aspects to my journey to China, and you can read all about them in my previous blog entries if you have the time. Today, I just wanted to clear a few things out of my mind and get them off my chest. I don't imagine I'm 100% right or accurate with what I have said here, but then again, nobody is 100% right 100% of the time, and that's the beauty of writing in this form. I can express my opinions any way I want and I am grateful for this opportunity. If you've actually taken the time to read this in its entirety, I just want to thank you for giving me your time. There are plenty of other things you could be doing right now, like getting out there and exploring another culture, or better yet, discovering your own. Whatever you do, make sure you write about it, or at least take pictures. Thanks for accompanying me on my little trip to big China. I hope you've enjoyed my visit as much as I have.
I've been in China for nearly 7 weeks now, and I've experienced all sorts of new things that I've never seen before. The food, the people and their strange, sometimes backwards customs, the pollution, crazy drivers, and of course, a new language. I am disappointed with myself for not making more of an effort to learn the language in the years leading up to this trip. I knew, marrying a Chinese girl, that this day would come, but I guess I'm still trying to learn to use English to its full potential, and a totally new language might throw my writing off-kilter. Yeah, that's a pretty good excuse. I'll use that one.
I never really thought about how differently people think and act in different countries around the world. In Canada, you can pretty much think and do anything you want as long as you don’t hurt anyone or break any laws. Even then, there is a lot of leeway on freedoms, and rules can indeed be bent. Not so over here in China. Sure, nobody really follows traffic laws, and I'm pretty sure the majority of people cheat on their taxes over here, but in the privacy of the family home, there are more rules, customs and pressures than we could ever handle in Canada. To start with, most families are very patriarchal, with the father or mother calling all the shots, and I guess dictating what other people should do without ever facing any backlash. Sure, I respect my elders and war veterans and the like, but we have sort of an understanding that times have changed, and what they know might not necessarily be right for today's youth. In China, you can't say that to a parent. Mommy or Daddy knows best, and that's just the way it is.
Gift-giving is very strange in China. Most people won't accept gifts, and will physically harm you if you try to pick up the bill at a restaurant. I think it could be one of two things; Either everyone is too proud to accept gifts because it might show that they are needy; or maybe, gifts are two often given under false pretenses over here. That is, the only reason some people will give a gift, is that they can now expect something in return. I actually felt this first hand. On my arrival, I asked a family member where I could exchange some Canadian dollars for Chinese Yuan. I've heard about currency control over here, and that you can't just walk into a store and purchase something in Canadian, or even US dollars. You have to go through a few channels to get money exchanged, and it often takes a while. I could have done it at the airport back in Vancouver, but I was in too much of a rush to even think about it. Anyway, the family member scoffed at my request, and said something like “You're our guest. Anything you want, just ask and we'll buy it for you.” That sounded a bit too good to be true, and was indeed said under false pretenses.
My wife was heading out to the mall one day and asked me if I needed anything. I asked if she could get me a pair of shorts to take back to Canada – it will be too hot to run in my jogging pants when the temperature warms up a bit. She said fine, but when she returned, there was a huge argument between her and the family member who originally made the offer. It was believed that I had demanded the shorts, and not offered to pay for them. Hey, if money is an issue, I have a whole pile of Canadian bills sitting here that nobody wants me to exchange. That bird has flown the coop. If you didn't want to buy me anything, why ask me? People have bought me things, but only when they were chosen by someone else and given to me because they figured I could use it. A scarf for example, was given to me by a family member. I’ll never use that scarf again back in Vancouver, but during the whole shorts argument, the value of said scarf was brought up, and how I've already received so much, how could I be so greedy to ask for something I want? Heck, I thought that was the deal in exchange for not exchanging any money? Maybe I misunderstood. I guess I received under false pretenses.
To combine the patriarchal and gift-giving scenarios, there is a Chinese custom that parents should always put their children through college. This would be fine if the kid got to decide what to study, where, and what sort of certificate they wanted i.e how far to go. My wife for instance, was sent to Canada with the understanding that she would receive a Doctor's degree and one day return to China to help better the country. Her path was already chosen for her. But once she got out of the country and discovered that Canadian students can choose their own major, decide when they’ve had enough or even drop out, then I think the 2 cultures clashed. Still to this day, she receives pressure from her family to keep going to school. She already has a Bachelor's Degree, which is more than I can say for myself, but apparently that is not enough.
I used to think that if somebody wanted to pay for my education, than I'd be all for it. Actually, money is the only thing that's preventing me from going back to school at this time. (Let's just say I want to get one student loan paid off before I sign up for another one.) But with the added pressure, I don't think I'd want to accept the money. There we go with the giving under false pretenses scenario again. I get the sense that there is no such thing as “no strings attached” over here. My mother-m-law actually offered to lend me the money to go back to school, but I decided to politely decline. There's no telling what type of trash talk would go on if I took that money. And what would the repayment schedule be like? “As long as you owe me this money, I own you?” I'd rather pass on the offer thanks. It's very nice that you'd offer it and bring up the Chinese culture and what not, but my own personal culture, no matter what country I'm from, says that I live and die for one thing – myself. Not in the selfish sense, like I don't think of anyone else's feelings. I'm just not going to do something because someone else thinks it would be good for me. If I want to go back to school badly enough, I'll find a way to pay for it, and then nobody can take credit in my success. I could probably write a whole book on that subject, but I won't. Let's just leave it at this: I live by DIY ethics and I'll probably starve to death by them, but there's nothing anybody can do to change that about me.
Now that I've covered the family politics to some degree, I think I should brush on actual politics. We live in a democratic society (or at least we think we do) where the people control the government. If we don't like something or if something smells fishy, the people of Canada will mostly step up and voice their opinions. You see this with MAWO (Mobilization Against War and Occupation) and other such organizations stepping up to protest Canada's potential involvement in the travesty that is the war in Iraq. If leaders in our community step up, politicians are forced to listen, or get out and bring in someone new who will listen to the people who elected him or her. Sure there are flaws, every system has flaws, but let's look back at that bolded statement I made back there. Here in China, the opposite can be said. The government controls the people. Actually, most Chinese people criticize the West for giving too much control to common citizens. Afterall, how would they know how to run a country? They just live there and pay the taxes that buy their so-called representatives a cushy salary and all the perks you could imagine and then some. It’s that way of thinking that leads to a very unhappy populace and eventually they are gonna revolt – unless of course you put the fear into ‘em.
Religion is not very popular here in China, at lease not practicing it. There are still rituals taking place on every street corner though, which I think are more of a tool to control people from rising up and speaking their mind. The Taoist religion, as well as Buddhism are still engrained in Chinese society, whether or not people are going to a temple and praying. Every time someone dies in China, there are mourners who pay their respects in interesting, if not peculiar ways. For example, I see small bonfires on street corners all around Harbin, where locals burn fake money in a little pile. I'm sure they burn real money too, but I see little carts everywhere that sell funny money just to burn in memory of a loved one. Don't ask me how that got started, but I'm sure it helps the economy. “Burn what you earn! The paper bills are just about worthless anyway! The more you burn, the more you'll help to curb inflation!” I think the U.S. is trying to do the opposite now – they are printing money faster than Disney prints coloring books, but maybe they should burn a stack of greenbacks for every US soldier who has lost his or her life in pointless wars. Now that'll get the economy back on track. It's the fashionable thing to do over here in China, why not join in?
Speaking of fashion, there are some articles of clothing that have religious or cultural tie-ins. No, I'm not talking about Buddha t-shirts or monk's cloaks, but adornments that show a certain thing about you, without you having to say a word. I mentioned earlier about the ways of mourning the dead over here. Well, there is one other tradition that I found to be interesting. If you see someone with a black cloth pinned around their arm (much like Jewish POWs back in WWII) then it means a parent has recently died. Different arm means different parent, and it varies for boys or girls. This might be wrong, but I think it's “boy's left arm = father died” &“Girl's left arm = mother died”. Also, if there is a smaller, red cloth wrapped on top of the black one, it means a grandparent died. Same goes; different arm for each gender. I suppose if you see someone wearing this, you are supposed to move out of their way on the street or maybe not cut in front of them in line. I'm not sure the exact reason for displaying the colour black like that. Maybe it's just a respect for the dead thing, but it's pretty common to know somebody who has died if you live over here. Afterall, with such a huge population, somebody is bound to die every minute or so.
That brings me to the population. It's huge! In the northern city of Harbin, it's not quite as evident as some of the larger cities. It's still overblown here, but I think the colder climate and the more industry-heavy economy has driven, or at least kept the people who aren't as tough away. When I went to Beijing, I saw the other side of the coin. There's a city on the move, with a technology-based economy and an ever-growing, youth-oriented group of professionals taking over. In Canada, our nation is dominated by the Baby Boomers, or those approaching senior-citizenry, but in Beijing, I think it's going in the other direction. It seems like the youth movement is strong there, and retirement is probably better enjoyed some place quieter and slower-paced. I for one don't want to be dodging speeding traffic and being pushed and shoved on a subway platform when I'm 90. But then again, that's just me. Maybe Beijing will be the headquarters for a new youth movement where the old patriarchal ideals are obliterated. For the sake of the next generation, I sure hope so.
Such a huge population would undoubtedly cause more problems than just congested automobile and pedestrian traffic. I can tell that the health care system in China is pretty much inaccessible for the majority of people, unless they have money. I could tell that by the number or frost-bitten, toeless people wailing at the marketplace, and the general ignorance for one's personal well-being. Maybe it's considered selfish to go to the doctor's office for that little scrape. Heck, you can stitch that up yourself! Michael Moore should come over here and do “Sicko Vol 2”. He might be shocked at what he sees. I did hear something interesting though. If you give blood in China, a monetary credit can be put towards your next medical bills. Most people will just take the cash, but if you are really responsible, you can realize the full potential of that intravenous insurance policy flowing through your veins. As Canada, BC in particular, flirts with the idea of “pay-for-priority” and private medical clinics, maybe this blood idea would come in handy. I gotta say, China is one step up in that regard. I once asked a nurse at Canadian Blood Services why I don't get paid my blood, and she told me that if money was offered, the wrong type of donors would be attracted. A.k.a. people who really need the money. Then, if someone is turned away, they will be furious. Actually, the nurse said that they used to pay for blood back in the old days, but too many people were lying on that questionnaire they get you to fill out, and it ends up putting more of a strain on the medical system because they have to re-test the blood and destroy it if it turns out to be unsafe.
Let's talk about safety for a moment. Yesterday I say 2 men repairing some bricks on the side of a tall apartment building. There they were, hanging in the air on a backyard swing propelled from a rather frayed-looking rope, held by a young fellow up on the roof. No safety harness, no net to catch them in case they fell. You wouldn’t catch me up there, that's for sure. Actually, if I fell, nobody would catch me DOWN there either, and that's precisely why I wouldn't do it. Seatbelts are another topic of discussion. When my wife and I get into a taxi, we immediately buckle up. I don't know if it's a force of habit for her, but I do it for my personal safety and mental well-being. Drivers immediately know we are foreigners because “Nobody wears a seat belt around here.” Some taxis don't even offer seatbelts, and forget about bracing for impact. My wife got ragged on for putting her foot up against the glove box while we sped into oncoming traffic. She was honestly bracing for impact. But do you think the driver apologized for making his passengers feel uncomfortable? No, he insulted her for having no manners, and started saying that her parents must not have done a very good job of raising someone with no manners. What a joke! If you saw the way people drive over here, you'd fear for your life too!
Life in China must be difficult for a young person today. I'm edging up on 25 now, so I'm not exactly a child, but I still feel inadequate over here. The whole “respect your elders” credo has gotten a bit out of hand, to the point that you can't disagree with someone if they are older than you by a couple of weeks. Even calling someone older than you by their first name is rude. You are supposed to address him as “uncle” regardless of your family relations. Here we might have the most ignorant, chain-smoking alcoholic loser in the world, but I still have to glorify him by calling him “uncle”. No thanks.
I'm thankful for being brought along on this trip. Don't take my above observations as a sign of dislike for the Chinese people or anything like that. Quite the contrary! Besides, I don't want to get shot or “disappear” as so many people over here do. I've just noticed a few things that have made my trip a bit uncomfortable at times, but I'm glad I got to experience a new culture like this. If I never left my comfy Canadian lifestyle, I wouldn't ever be able to appreciate what an easy life we all have in the great white north. Sure, we may complain that there are too many people in the crowded parking lots, and how the movie theatre is always packed when we try to get a good seat, but believe me, it could be a lot worse. I think I might actually start appreciating what we have in Canada before it's gone. This trip has at least opened my eyes to that.
There are lots of positive aspects to my journey to China, and you can read all about them in my previous blog entries if you have the time. Today, I just wanted to clear a few things out of my mind and get them off my chest. I don't imagine I'm 100% right or accurate with what I have said here, but then again, nobody is 100% right 100% of the time, and that's the beauty of writing in this form. I can express my opinions any way I want and I am grateful for this opportunity. If you've actually taken the time to read this in its entirety, I just want to thank you for giving me your time. There are plenty of other things you could be doing right now, like getting out there and exploring another culture, or better yet, discovering your own. Whatever you do, make sure you write about it, or at least take pictures. Thanks for accompanying me on my little trip to big China. I hope you've enjoyed my visit as much as I have.
March 14th - The Name is Ling... Bo Ling
Last night we went out bowling with my wife's cousin and his girlfriend – a sort of double date if you will. I think you will. Anyway, we got in a taxi and headed to the Bowlarama, only when the taxi stopped, I didn’t see the bowling alley anywhere. “Are you sure this is the right place?” I asked my wife. She assured me it was, and led me through a set of revolving doors and into a hotel lobby. Okay, I thought, maybe we were meeting the cousin here and then going to the bowling alley. Now it all makes sense.
Actually, I learned something today - that you can always find a bowling alley where you least expect it. Up on the second floor of the hotel, there was a modest-sized bowling alley, complete with Hello Kitty bowling balls that you could rent for a modest price. I was tempted, but used a house ball instead. I still couldn't get over the location of this bowling alley! From the outside of the hotel, there was no bowling-pin shaped neon sign or anything! How was I supposed to know that inside, there were strikes and spares and seven-ten splits galore? But now that I was inside, I told the shoe rental clerk to “spare” me the pleasantries. I hate to “bowl” someone over, but I gotta “split”. I've got some pins to knock down!
At first, I was pretty rusty. It's been a while since I rolled a big heavy round object down a long, waxed surface towards 10 free-standing pillars painted white with little red stripes at the top. In fact, I can't think of any other situation that I could perform such an act, aside from maybe that carnival game where you try to knock over the lead milk bottles with a stuffed baseball. But then it's more of a throw, not so much a roll. After about 3 or 4 frames, I got back in the swing of things and I was really rollin'. With the first game in the books, I came out as winner, but only by about 4 pins. My wife was hot on my tail for the whole game, and my low score was more of a help to her than a sore in my saddle. I was having a great time.
To my left, there was a man bowling all by himself. He looked to be semi-competitive, because he wasn't wasting any time. He had 3 names up there on the screen, and it looked like he was always trying to beat the last score. Maybe he has some sort of multiple-bowler personality disorder. I watched him closely though, because he had incredible technique, and managed to hit about 3 strikes in a row. If this was soccer baseball, nobody would ever score a run, or goal or whatever they go by in that pseudo-sport. A Wicket, maybe? Heck I forget. They always let the kid in the wheelchair be pitcher in my gym class anyway. I mean, I understand that you want to make him feel happy and all, but I hated being on his team. He barely dove for any grounders, and he wasn't the greatest pitcher either. Yeah I know, I'm probably going to hell for writing this, but at least they'll have decent pitching down there. I'm pretty sure Roger Clemens will be headed down south after this whole steroid use/perjury nonsense.
Now back to the Bowling alley. After I picked up a few pointers from Hand Solo over there, I was rockin' AND rollin'. I hit 3 strikes in a row, followed by 2 spares! I was killin' it! On one of the spares though, there was a malfunction and the little arm that picks up the pins you left standing actually knocked them down instead. The barrier raised again to reveal an empty lane. “What do I do?” I asked. “Just chuck one” said my wife. So I let 'er rip as hard as I could and lo and behold, the computer said I knocked it down. This happened a couple more times, but usually only to me. That's a little wacky, and your serious bowler might get a little upset, but hey, this was working out in my favour! I just came to have a god time, and I actually bowled one of the best games of my life! I have to give some credit to the machine though. I had some help now and again from my pals over at Brunswick Bowling Equipment. The must have heard I was from New Brunswick, so you know, they want to cheer on the home team. Thanks guys!
Actually, I learned something today - that you can always find a bowling alley where you least expect it. Up on the second floor of the hotel, there was a modest-sized bowling alley, complete with Hello Kitty bowling balls that you could rent for a modest price. I was tempted, but used a house ball instead. I still couldn't get over the location of this bowling alley! From the outside of the hotel, there was no bowling-pin shaped neon sign or anything! How was I supposed to know that inside, there were strikes and spares and seven-ten splits galore? But now that I was inside, I told the shoe rental clerk to “spare” me the pleasantries. I hate to “bowl” someone over, but I gotta “split”. I've got some pins to knock down!
At first, I was pretty rusty. It's been a while since I rolled a big heavy round object down a long, waxed surface towards 10 free-standing pillars painted white with little red stripes at the top. In fact, I can't think of any other situation that I could perform such an act, aside from maybe that carnival game where you try to knock over the lead milk bottles with a stuffed baseball. But then it's more of a throw, not so much a roll. After about 3 or 4 frames, I got back in the swing of things and I was really rollin'. With the first game in the books, I came out as winner, but only by about 4 pins. My wife was hot on my tail for the whole game, and my low score was more of a help to her than a sore in my saddle. I was having a great time.
To my left, there was a man bowling all by himself. He looked to be semi-competitive, because he wasn't wasting any time. He had 3 names up there on the screen, and it looked like he was always trying to beat the last score. Maybe he has some sort of multiple-bowler personality disorder. I watched him closely though, because he had incredible technique, and managed to hit about 3 strikes in a row. If this was soccer baseball, nobody would ever score a run, or goal or whatever they go by in that pseudo-sport. A Wicket, maybe? Heck I forget. They always let the kid in the wheelchair be pitcher in my gym class anyway. I mean, I understand that you want to make him feel happy and all, but I hated being on his team. He barely dove for any grounders, and he wasn't the greatest pitcher either. Yeah I know, I'm probably going to hell for writing this, but at least they'll have decent pitching down there. I'm pretty sure Roger Clemens will be headed down south after this whole steroid use/perjury nonsense.
Now back to the Bowling alley. After I picked up a few pointers from Hand Solo over there, I was rockin' AND rollin'. I hit 3 strikes in a row, followed by 2 spares! I was killin' it! On one of the spares though, there was a malfunction and the little arm that picks up the pins you left standing actually knocked them down instead. The barrier raised again to reveal an empty lane. “What do I do?” I asked. “Just chuck one” said my wife. So I let 'er rip as hard as I could and lo and behold, the computer said I knocked it down. This happened a couple more times, but usually only to me. That's a little wacky, and your serious bowler might get a little upset, but hey, this was working out in my favour! I just came to have a god time, and I actually bowled one of the best games of my life! I have to give some credit to the machine though. I had some help now and again from my pals over at Brunswick Bowling Equipment. The must have heard I was from New Brunswick, so you know, they want to cheer on the home team. Thanks guys!
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
March 13th - The Great Scrape
Have you ever heard of the Chinese Bath Houses? I used to picture a giant sauna and hot tub, where men & women wash themselves once a week to keep the lice and ticks away. Well, I found out first hand what it's all about. The "Harbin Modern Recreational Centre" has one thing the old bath houses of the past don't have - people to wash you. Now I'm not talking about a person who stands there in the shower with you. "Pass me the soap, will ya?" But rather a trained professional in the art of dermabrasion.
To start off, you have to strip down to your flip flops and join the rest of the unwashed masses in a huge bathroom. No, it's gender specific, unfortunately. The dudes go in one side and the dudettes int he other. Still, I felt a little bit uneasy standing around in my birthday suit. Especially when some guy named wong was staring at my wang. I wish I knew how to say "Jealous?" in Chinese, but instead I just winked at him. That seemed to scare him off.
Now, after the gawkers had their fill, I sat down in a huge hot tub. Actually they have 2 hot tubs - one is just hot, and the other one is scalding. I couldn't stay in the scalding tub for too long or my organs would start to cook. So, I just par-boiled myself and moved on. They also have a "cold tub" here which I found interesting. It's like a hot tub, only the water is ice cold. Needless to say, I didn't feel like racing my heart today, so I skipped that one.
After I sat around and dried off a bit, I moved on to the final, and most important stage - the scraping of the dead skin. That sounds a bit like a horror movie, doesn't it? "The Scraping of the Dead". I'd watch it. Actually the real version is kinda scary the first time you see it, but you learn to get used to it. Firt off, you lie on a massage table covered in saran wrap, and someone pours warm water all over you. The, using a special sandpaper mitt, a dude starts rubbing your skin from head to toe, releasing any tough dirt buildup and dead skin that is left on your body. I imagine a few layers of live skin come off too, because my chest was looking like a lobster tail by the end of it. He then asks you to roll over on your stomach. Being naked, my natural reaction was to clench - everything. But he asked me to relax, or at least that's what I think he asked me. He scraped my back, my gluteus maximus, and finally, in between my toes and the soles of my feet. That one tickled.
After I was a few layers of skin lighter, I was told I'm supposed to rub salt all over my body and go into the sauna. I did this, and I gotta tell ya, it burned baby. I don't know if the salt is supposed to seal all my timy wounds from the sandpaper, but I got some in my eyes, and boy did it hurt. Like the tubs, there are 2 saunas. Hot, and furnace. You're supposed to stay in there until all the salt liquifies and runs off your body, so I went inside the furnace to speed up the process. I couldn't stay in there much longer than 5 minutes, and when I emerged I felt like jumping in the cold bath, but I held back. Instead, I was given a razor and a squirt of shaving cream. They say after the sauna is the best time to shave. So I did, and yeah, they were right! Shaving has never been so easy, and I managed to avoid gashing myself up!
After I finished my shave, I jumped in the shower and reached over for the supplied body wash. There were 2 types - aloe, and milk. Milk? Okay, whatever. I washed myself in milk for the first time today. You'd think it would go sour, sitting there in the shower, but actually, it gave me some new power! My skin was still feeling a bit "open" from all the scraping, but when I applied the milk, that feeling abated. Now I felt great! I had just come from a 10K run before the bath house, and when I weighed myself on the way out, I saw that I had lost 2 Kilos! That can't be right can it? Well, actually, now that I think about it, all that dead skin they scraped off me probably weighs quite a bit. Now that I think about it, maybe that's where the term "skinny" came from. "Look at that guy, they scraped him all over and now half of his skin is on the floor. Let's call him skinny."
To start off, you have to strip down to your flip flops and join the rest of the unwashed masses in a huge bathroom. No, it's gender specific, unfortunately. The dudes go in one side and the dudettes int he other. Still, I felt a little bit uneasy standing around in my birthday suit. Especially when some guy named wong was staring at my wang. I wish I knew how to say "Jealous?" in Chinese, but instead I just winked at him. That seemed to scare him off.
Now, after the gawkers had their fill, I sat down in a huge hot tub. Actually they have 2 hot tubs - one is just hot, and the other one is scalding. I couldn't stay in the scalding tub for too long or my organs would start to cook. So, I just par-boiled myself and moved on. They also have a "cold tub" here which I found interesting. It's like a hot tub, only the water is ice cold. Needless to say, I didn't feel like racing my heart today, so I skipped that one.
After I sat around and dried off a bit, I moved on to the final, and most important stage - the scraping of the dead skin. That sounds a bit like a horror movie, doesn't it? "The Scraping of the Dead". I'd watch it. Actually the real version is kinda scary the first time you see it, but you learn to get used to it. Firt off, you lie on a massage table covered in saran wrap, and someone pours warm water all over you. The, using a special sandpaper mitt, a dude starts rubbing your skin from head to toe, releasing any tough dirt buildup and dead skin that is left on your body. I imagine a few layers of live skin come off too, because my chest was looking like a lobster tail by the end of it. He then asks you to roll over on your stomach. Being naked, my natural reaction was to clench - everything. But he asked me to relax, or at least that's what I think he asked me. He scraped my back, my gluteus maximus, and finally, in between my toes and the soles of my feet. That one tickled.
After I was a few layers of skin lighter, I was told I'm supposed to rub salt all over my body and go into the sauna. I did this, and I gotta tell ya, it burned baby. I don't know if the salt is supposed to seal all my timy wounds from the sandpaper, but I got some in my eyes, and boy did it hurt. Like the tubs, there are 2 saunas. Hot, and furnace. You're supposed to stay in there until all the salt liquifies and runs off your body, so I went inside the furnace to speed up the process. I couldn't stay in there much longer than 5 minutes, and when I emerged I felt like jumping in the cold bath, but I held back. Instead, I was given a razor and a squirt of shaving cream. They say after the sauna is the best time to shave. So I did, and yeah, they were right! Shaving has never been so easy, and I managed to avoid gashing myself up!
After I finished my shave, I jumped in the shower and reached over for the supplied body wash. There were 2 types - aloe, and milk. Milk? Okay, whatever. I washed myself in milk for the first time today. You'd think it would go sour, sitting there in the shower, but actually, it gave me some new power! My skin was still feeling a bit "open" from all the scraping, but when I applied the milk, that feeling abated. Now I felt great! I had just come from a 10K run before the bath house, and when I weighed myself on the way out, I saw that I had lost 2 Kilos! That can't be right can it? Well, actually, now that I think about it, all that dead skin they scraped off me probably weighs quite a bit. Now that I think about it, maybe that's where the term "skinny" came from. "Look at that guy, they scraped him all over and now half of his skin is on the floor. Let's call him skinny."
March 12th - And the Polar Bears Were Boiled in their Tanks
I sorta borrowed the title for today's entry from an early Beat Generation novel called “And the Hippos Were Boiled in their Tanks” because I think it fits in a way. Yesterday we decided to make use of out limited time here in China by going across the river to see some animals. My wife loves animals of all sorts – dogs, cats, birds, slugs, you name it. When I first arrived in Harbin some six weeks ago, I noticed a sign at the airport for “Harbin Polarland” which showed some penguins wearing sunglasses, and a father and son tobogganing with a Polar Bear. Looked like a good time!
Aside from Polarland, there is also a Tiger Preservation Centre over on the other side of the river. It's sort of a nature reserve dedicated to the preservation and breeding of large cats. My wife missed our family cat I guess, because next thing I knew, we were on a safari through this semi-large grassland full of roaming tigers. For 40 Yuan, you could order a live chicken and watch them feed it to a huge adult tiger right in front of your eyes. We did, and I must say, I've never seen a chicken crap out its intestines before, but once the tiger put a big Chomp on the bird’s stomach, you might say it was scared shitless.
After the mobile tour was over, we were allowed to roam around in the breeding centre. Here they would put a male and a female of the same species (or sometimes not) to hopefully produce an offspring. Actually, there was a bit of playing God going on, because they had lions and tigers together in the same pen, in order to produce Liger cubs, which they proudly had on display. There were also cheetahs, leopards, and my favorite, the jaguars. We actually interrupted 2 jaguars getting their jag on, and one of them wouldn’t stop staring at me for as long as I was standing there. I guess if you interrupt two people while they are getting down to business, you are public enemy #1, at least around these parts.
On my way out, I had a chance to read some despicably-translated materials on the park. It was founded in 1996 after Bengal tigers were put on the endangered species list, and is now home to over 600 large cats, including the rare “white tiger”. I was hoping they were also home to the rare 80's band “Glass Tiger”, but I wasn't so lucky. I felt dejected, once again, because my dream of taking part in a Chinese 80's headbanger's ball were again crushed.
After we left the tiger amusement park, I figured we were just going home. That seemed like enough excitement for one day. But Nooooo, the driver pulled into another parking lot, this time with garbage cans shaped like penguins greeting us at the entrance. The idea with these trash receptacles is, you actually put your waste in the penguin’s mouth! I thought most zoos discouraged feeding the animals, but this one has that all taken care of. Feeding the penguins is okay, as long as they are 4 feet tall and made of fiberglass.
Once inside, we looked at some sturgeon and I could have sworn I smelled fish frying somewhere in this place. It must be like that fish farm I worked at one summer. Every week, they would let us take home a fish to barbecue. At least my coworkers convinced me that I was allowed to. Maybe that’s why I never did get asked to come back the next summer...Somewhere in the hidden back rooms of this place, I just know there is a big ol’ country fish fry going on, and damn if I wasn't just a little bit hungry.
Moving on, we saw seals swimming around in a tank, but the water looked like it was about “kiddie-pool” depth, plus there were all these props in there with them – a dingy, some sort of water wheel, a bunch of buoys, and not to mention, 4 seals. I watched them flop around for a bit, but then we moved on to the next exciting animals – the penguins!
When you think of penguins, that big-time, box office smash “March of the Penguins” probably comes to your mind. This documentary features only 1 type of penguin, the “Emperor Penguin”. They are the largest of the penguin family, and make some pretty cool noises too. At Polarland, there is a whole mish-mash of the penguin brotherhood. I counted at least 3 different species, and there were about 30 penguins in all, hopping around on the fake rocks, all jazzed up with white spray paint so you felt like you were in the arctic. I followed the journey of one guy from the time he plopped his round little body into the water, to his loops and summersaults all over the tank. He looked like he was having tons of fun. Just then a worker entered the penguin habitat to check on something. It was funny, because the penguins must recognize him as a source of food. They all followed him in a big line, single file. It looked like a big game of follow-the-leader, but no fish were given out as prizes. The dude just checked the thermostat and left. Poor little guys didn't even get a sardine for their troubles.
Now, moving on to the next area, I saw out of the corner of my eye, what looked like a big hairy blonde dude swimming laps. That reminds me, my YMCA membership has run out. No, wait, that's a Polar Bear! There were 2 of the beasts, with one doing the backstroke from end to end of the water tank, and another up on the fake rocks, looking like he wanted to kill somebody. He must have been pissed off, because this tank was tiny. I was actually pretty appalled at the size of this tank. When both Polar Bears were in the water together, they could barely move around. Luckily, they learned to swap now & again, with one in the water swimming laps, and the other pacing on the rocks, from end to end. The whole tank couldn't have been more than 15 or 20 feet long, and less than that in depth. My wife asked one of the workers if they have a “Polar Bear Show” like they do with the seals. I saw him laugh. I figure he said something like “Are you crazy? Do you think someone would actually get in there with 2 angry Polar Bears?”
Aside form the Polar Bears, the main attraction at this place was 2 Beluga Whales. Back in Vancouver, the local Aquarium has 3 or 4, I think, with one having just died last summer. Tragic, I know, but what's more tragic is the lack of space these poor animals have at Harbin Polarland. I think they make due with what they have though, because one of the whales was swimming around, playing with a toy and having a great time. The other one was just sitting still, not moving at all, and only coming up for breaths now and again. Either it was napping, or it just doesn't have the energy to move. The Belugas I've seen in captivity are usually pretty blubbery, and almost like big marshmallows. These 2 were slim, grayish things with scars all over them. I don't know their story, but either they got outta line and the trainer gave them a lashing, or they were rescued in a harbour somewhere, after getting caught in a fisherman's net. Either way, I didn't feel like watching them.
My wife on the other hand, wanted to stick around for the Whale Show at 1PM. In the meantime, we checked out the shark tank downstairs. It was odd. All these different tropical fish, turtles and manta rays were swimming around in the same tank as 3 great big bull sharks. Why don't they eat them? Maybe they are all vegetarians like in the Jack Black movie. Maybe they're just full. Yeah, that's probably it. Maybe here used to be several hundred fish in this tank. Now, there's maybe 50. After a while, they probably got sick of fish. How about a nice, juicy tourist. We're sick of Chinese food too. What's that? Italian? Mama mia! I think I'm safe though. Nobody ever asks for Canadian food, do they? What do you feel like tonight, honey? Chinese? Indian? Maybe Thai? Naw, how about some Canadian?!?! Ok, I'll get the timbits, you go pick up a 12-pack of Molson. Now that's a wholesome dinner!
After a bunch of fluttering around, getting the Belugas to wag their tails like dogs and wave to the giddy onlookers, they cranked up the music, and the trainer got in the pool. Now to add to the cheese-factor, they were playing Celine Dion, and the trainer started floating around, pretending to kiss the whale. Awww, isn't that sweet. I kept waiting for the whale to make a wrong turn and crush the pesky human up against the side of the tank, but it never happened. The whole show lasted about 7 minutes, and ended with the wetsuit-clad teenager jumping out of the water off the nose of the whale. My wife really enjoyed it, so I played along, No point ruining her day with my “plight of the animals” schpeal. She agreed that the tanks were too small, but I suppose in China, the rules are more lax when it comes to animal treatment. Heck, back home, you practically have to cross a picket line to go to the circus. I know, I once applied to be a carnie, but I couldn't take the carnage.
On the way out, we stopped off to have one last look at the Polar Bears, and a pair of wolves that were also on display. I read the sign and learned that the wolves were from Canada. Finally! Someone I can relate to. I asked them where the nearest Tim's was, but I don't think they heard me. They were too busy watching over their young. Watching them over there in that other pen. I don't know what it will do to you if you are separated from your parents by a pane of glass, but it had these wolf cubs thinking they were hamsters. There was a little training wheel in the middle of the cub pen, and one of them was running his little legs off. I have expected his water dish to be filled with gator-aid and to see him wearing a little sweat band on his wolf-mullet. But no, like me, these guys like it “au-naural”. No gimmicks, no special equipment. Just me, the glass wall, and my giant hamster wheel. Now excuse me, I have to go eat my food pellets now. Don't step on my tail.
Aside from Polarland, there is also a Tiger Preservation Centre over on the other side of the river. It's sort of a nature reserve dedicated to the preservation and breeding of large cats. My wife missed our family cat I guess, because next thing I knew, we were on a safari through this semi-large grassland full of roaming tigers. For 40 Yuan, you could order a live chicken and watch them feed it to a huge adult tiger right in front of your eyes. We did, and I must say, I've never seen a chicken crap out its intestines before, but once the tiger put a big Chomp on the bird’s stomach, you might say it was scared shitless.
After the mobile tour was over, we were allowed to roam around in the breeding centre. Here they would put a male and a female of the same species (or sometimes not) to hopefully produce an offspring. Actually, there was a bit of playing God going on, because they had lions and tigers together in the same pen, in order to produce Liger cubs, which they proudly had on display. There were also cheetahs, leopards, and my favorite, the jaguars. We actually interrupted 2 jaguars getting their jag on, and one of them wouldn’t stop staring at me for as long as I was standing there. I guess if you interrupt two people while they are getting down to business, you are public enemy #1, at least around these parts.
On my way out, I had a chance to read some despicably-translated materials on the park. It was founded in 1996 after Bengal tigers were put on the endangered species list, and is now home to over 600 large cats, including the rare “white tiger”. I was hoping they were also home to the rare 80's band “Glass Tiger”, but I wasn't so lucky. I felt dejected, once again, because my dream of taking part in a Chinese 80's headbanger's ball were again crushed.
After we left the tiger amusement park, I figured we were just going home. That seemed like enough excitement for one day. But Nooooo, the driver pulled into another parking lot, this time with garbage cans shaped like penguins greeting us at the entrance. The idea with these trash receptacles is, you actually put your waste in the penguin’s mouth! I thought most zoos discouraged feeding the animals, but this one has that all taken care of. Feeding the penguins is okay, as long as they are 4 feet tall and made of fiberglass.
Once inside, we looked at some sturgeon and I could have sworn I smelled fish frying somewhere in this place. It must be like that fish farm I worked at one summer. Every week, they would let us take home a fish to barbecue. At least my coworkers convinced me that I was allowed to. Maybe that’s why I never did get asked to come back the next summer...Somewhere in the hidden back rooms of this place, I just know there is a big ol’ country fish fry going on, and damn if I wasn't just a little bit hungry.
Moving on, we saw seals swimming around in a tank, but the water looked like it was about “kiddie-pool” depth, plus there were all these props in there with them – a dingy, some sort of water wheel, a bunch of buoys, and not to mention, 4 seals. I watched them flop around for a bit, but then we moved on to the next exciting animals – the penguins!
When you think of penguins, that big-time, box office smash “March of the Penguins” probably comes to your mind. This documentary features only 1 type of penguin, the “Emperor Penguin”. They are the largest of the penguin family, and make some pretty cool noises too. At Polarland, there is a whole mish-mash of the penguin brotherhood. I counted at least 3 different species, and there were about 30 penguins in all, hopping around on the fake rocks, all jazzed up with white spray paint so you felt like you were in the arctic. I followed the journey of one guy from the time he plopped his round little body into the water, to his loops and summersaults all over the tank. He looked like he was having tons of fun. Just then a worker entered the penguin habitat to check on something. It was funny, because the penguins must recognize him as a source of food. They all followed him in a big line, single file. It looked like a big game of follow-the-leader, but no fish were given out as prizes. The dude just checked the thermostat and left. Poor little guys didn't even get a sardine for their troubles.
Now, moving on to the next area, I saw out of the corner of my eye, what looked like a big hairy blonde dude swimming laps. That reminds me, my YMCA membership has run out. No, wait, that's a Polar Bear! There were 2 of the beasts, with one doing the backstroke from end to end of the water tank, and another up on the fake rocks, looking like he wanted to kill somebody. He must have been pissed off, because this tank was tiny. I was actually pretty appalled at the size of this tank. When both Polar Bears were in the water together, they could barely move around. Luckily, they learned to swap now & again, with one in the water swimming laps, and the other pacing on the rocks, from end to end. The whole tank couldn't have been more than 15 or 20 feet long, and less than that in depth. My wife asked one of the workers if they have a “Polar Bear Show” like they do with the seals. I saw him laugh. I figure he said something like “Are you crazy? Do you think someone would actually get in there with 2 angry Polar Bears?”
Aside form the Polar Bears, the main attraction at this place was 2 Beluga Whales. Back in Vancouver, the local Aquarium has 3 or 4, I think, with one having just died last summer. Tragic, I know, but what's more tragic is the lack of space these poor animals have at Harbin Polarland. I think they make due with what they have though, because one of the whales was swimming around, playing with a toy and having a great time. The other one was just sitting still, not moving at all, and only coming up for breaths now and again. Either it was napping, or it just doesn't have the energy to move. The Belugas I've seen in captivity are usually pretty blubbery, and almost like big marshmallows. These 2 were slim, grayish things with scars all over them. I don't know their story, but either they got outta line and the trainer gave them a lashing, or they were rescued in a harbour somewhere, after getting caught in a fisherman's net. Either way, I didn't feel like watching them.
My wife on the other hand, wanted to stick around for the Whale Show at 1PM. In the meantime, we checked out the shark tank downstairs. It was odd. All these different tropical fish, turtles and manta rays were swimming around in the same tank as 3 great big bull sharks. Why don't they eat them? Maybe they are all vegetarians like in the Jack Black movie. Maybe they're just full. Yeah, that's probably it. Maybe here used to be several hundred fish in this tank. Now, there's maybe 50. After a while, they probably got sick of fish. How about a nice, juicy tourist. We're sick of Chinese food too. What's that? Italian? Mama mia! I think I'm safe though. Nobody ever asks for Canadian food, do they? What do you feel like tonight, honey? Chinese? Indian? Maybe Thai? Naw, how about some Canadian?!?! Ok, I'll get the timbits, you go pick up a 12-pack of Molson. Now that's a wholesome dinner!
After a bunch of fluttering around, getting the Belugas to wag their tails like dogs and wave to the giddy onlookers, they cranked up the music, and the trainer got in the pool. Now to add to the cheese-factor, they were playing Celine Dion, and the trainer started floating around, pretending to kiss the whale. Awww, isn't that sweet. I kept waiting for the whale to make a wrong turn and crush the pesky human up against the side of the tank, but it never happened. The whole show lasted about 7 minutes, and ended with the wetsuit-clad teenager jumping out of the water off the nose of the whale. My wife really enjoyed it, so I played along, No point ruining her day with my “plight of the animals” schpeal. She agreed that the tanks were too small, but I suppose in China, the rules are more lax when it comes to animal treatment. Heck, back home, you practically have to cross a picket line to go to the circus. I know, I once applied to be a carnie, but I couldn't take the carnage.
On the way out, we stopped off to have one last look at the Polar Bears, and a pair of wolves that were also on display. I read the sign and learned that the wolves were from Canada. Finally! Someone I can relate to. I asked them where the nearest Tim's was, but I don't think they heard me. They were too busy watching over their young. Watching them over there in that other pen. I don't know what it will do to you if you are separated from your parents by a pane of glass, but it had these wolf cubs thinking they were hamsters. There was a little training wheel in the middle of the cub pen, and one of them was running his little legs off. I have expected his water dish to be filled with gator-aid and to see him wearing a little sweat band on his wolf-mullet. But no, like me, these guys like it “au-naural”. No gimmicks, no special equipment. Just me, the glass wall, and my giant hamster wheel. Now excuse me, I have to go eat my food pellets now. Don't step on my tail.
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