Hello Uncle Foreigner

Jun 19, 2014

Apartment hunting in the countryside

You’ll pay extra, but that river view is fantastic

In 2012, the construction was just beginning
In 2012, the construction was only beginning its invasion of our countryside campus.
The golf cart takes you through the incomplete housing estateYuzixi International Community is sprouting up across the street from our schoolLooking at the property
Yuzixi International Community is a nearly completed condo development across the street from the school.
The incomplete bottom of the buildingPut on your booties
Our tour guide walked us through an active construction site to the show apartments. We were provided with booties, right, for cleanliness.
With real western toiletIt's a kitchenThe show apartment living roomThe show apartment bedroom
The show apartments were way classy.

The area around the New School has been subject to intense development over the past two years. What was once hilly countryside has been levelled, and is now home to luxury condos!

The afternoon that we made our fourth year official, in the mood for adventure, we took a detour to the “Yuzixi International Community” across the main road from the school. We were actually drawn by a sign advertising a bar/restaurant, which turned out to be just for show, but the management office had a scale model of the planned finished development and an army of helpful young women selling condos. So we joined a tour.

“Are you looking to buy today?” our guide asked us as we rode the golf cart across the grounds to the model apartments. She didn’t seem too bothered that we weren’t. The show condos were on the 7th-ish floor, in a building that was still actively under construction. (It was hard to keep count, as some of the flights of stairs were actually make-shift ladders.) But the apartments themselves were beautiful.

A luxury apartment on the outskirts of a prefecture-level city in China will run you between 780,000-1,280,000 RMB, we found, depending on the size. (That’s US$125,468-$205,897.) The larger apartment has two master bedrooms and one small bedroom — perfect for a couple, their parents and their one kid.

The most surprising thing about our visit was discovering that, if we stopped traveling and just saved for a few years, we could actually afford a down payment. It’s really more space than we need, though, so we probably won’t.

The condos have stolen our river view

Jun 14, 2014

The victory lap

Leveling up in Luzhou

The kids and us at Egg Bar, with the boss
Our buddies at Egg Bar, in Tai’an
Briefly, there were hot dogs
Sadly, after a strong opening, the hot dog guys fell prey to a decline in quality and we haven’t actually seen them in a few weeks.
The Luzhou pig cakeTaste that savory meat
猪儿粑, or Pig Cake, is a delicious Luzhou specialty that our friend Listening introduced us to earlier this year.
Post-flood Yangtze RiverThe river walk today
Left: One month after the 2012 flood, makeshift tea houses reclaimed the crumbled banks of Yangtze Riverfront. Right: These days, the walk along the river has been greatly spiffed up.
Far-away-hot-potThe crew of far-away-hot-pot
Far-away-hot-pot has some truly delicious meatballs.
At Chinese Bar with Claude and MaybellDownstairs Chinese Bar
After a spicy meal at far-away-hot-pot, we love to stop at Chinese Bar for an old-fashiony night cap.
The kids at Around the Corner restaurantSome buddies at Snaggles'More young friendsA friend on the road
We’ve made all kinds of friends out in the village of Tai’an.
The old, rickety carnival by the riverShiny, new Spirits Land
Left: The old carnival by the river; right: The rollercoaster at Spirits Land
Is it a Transformer?The X-Men branded swings at Spirits Land
At Spirits Land, everything looks a little familiar.

A new vendor appeared at the bottom of the hill behind the Old School in early April. Next to the ladies selling dumplings, cold noodles, and fried 串串 snacks, two young guys set up the Little Bear Hot Dog stand. And their efforts were delicious: Perfectly savory dogs — the Chinese tube meats we’d come across before tend towards the sweet — on homemade buns served with pickles and real French’s mustard (“It’s American, just like you!” said the guy in the mask, in Chinese). We quickly made Little Bear part of our Old Campus routine. And joked to each other that this represented a huge level up in our ongoing RPG of a life. “Achievement unlocked: American-style hot dog.”

As spring progressed, it felt like less of a joke. Luzhou is changing and we are changing, and everything feels a bit more comfortable. For maybe the first two years, I’d look back every few months and think, “I have no idea how we even survived without the knowledge and experience that I’ve just gained. We were such ignorant fools until now!” But recently, so slowly that I’ve barely noticed, my mindset has become, “Hey, we’re doing pretty well these days. China’s awesome and we’re awesome!” Some of that’s due to small things, that are really more Luzhou’s doings than our own, mostly having to do with what gets stocked in the imports section at at the supermarket. There was even butter, for a short while.

But, we’re the ones who’ve found the fun at far-away-hot-pot and Chinese Bar. Far-away-hot-pot is our latest hot pot find: A place that does it up Chongqing-style, located 15-minutes in the direction away from the city center from our Old Campus apartment (hence our name for it), right on the Yangtze River. It has a beautiful view, a friendly staff and fantastic meatballs. We introduced it to our friends Maybell and Claude, and they too really liked it. Chinese Bar is the actual name of an historically themed Chinese restaurant, where the waiters dress in old fashioned river worker costumes and we drink rice wine out of ceramic bowls. Both establishments seem to be where the young and cool of Luzhou hang out. And now, it’s where we hang out, too.

We’ve also established ourselves out in Tai’an, chatting often with both the locals and the many construction workers who are in town to make this little hamlet into a city. I’m working pretty hard on my Mandarin, and these conversations are more in depth than ever before. People are starting to accuse me of speaking the local dialect, even.

The lovely spring weather has seen us get out and about nearly every weekend — whether to destinations remote and spectacular, like the Bamboo Sea, or far flung corners of Luzhou city, like Spirits Land. Spirits Land is the English translation of Luzhou’s new amusement park. According to Listening, Crela and Echo, after the flood of 2012 wiped out the scrappy old rides by the river, the city carved out a space to rebuild all that kind of thing on the outskirts of town. When we visited, mid-May, the park was only half complete, but 100% safer looking than the river carnival had been. The new park had multilingual signage in Chinese, Japanese, Korean, French and English; and willy-nilly copyright infringement: The Krusty Krab and the Chum Bucket were places to buy snacks, X-Men characters festooned the “Hurricane Fly Chairs”; and good-old Mickey ears sat atop the entry ticket booth.

During all this travel and fun, Peter and I talked constantly about our upcoming move, and how much we were going to miss Luzhou. The more we reveled in our first Chinese hometown, the more fiercely attached we felt to it. One afternoon, in conversation with our boss, we successfully floated the theoretical idea of a raise. “What if we stayed?” we started wondering.

After the first time that was voiced, it didn’t take too long for our “Say Goodbye to Sichuan Province” tour to turn into a campaign advocating for “Bonus Year in Luzhou.” Over lunch at corner restaurant (we call it that, because it’s on a corner) we called our boss Linda to sign on for another year. “God bless you,” she said.

Kunming will still be there in 2015, and we’ve finally found our footing here. So we’re staying, to revel in our achievements and to enjoy the comforts we’ve worked so hard for. Bonus round: GO!

An afternoon at Baizitu

Jun 3, 2014

Cruising through the Bamboo Sea

By car, through the air and on foot

Nature is pretty cool

— Emily

Yeah, especially when it’s been harnessed by man.
Or as I like to say: Fixed.

— Peter

A sea of bamboo
Our room was simple and serviceableBamboo right outside our window
Our hotel was pretty basic, but beautifully situated.
Drinking the bamboo wine
There were many ways to enjoy your bamboo, including a locally made bamboo wine, in which we indulged our first night …
Our wildman driverOn the road
… making the swift and twisty ride through the mountains the next day extra exciting! Who doesn’t like battling the threat of vomit in a stranger’s car?
here is some meatOne of the Bamboo Sea's small villages
We stopped for a lunch of Yibin kindling noodles (they’re fiery!) in the small village of Wan Li.
The waterfallAt the top of the waterfallThe glory of the Dragon's Head FallsWalking down the fallsWe took a little boatNear the bottom of the fallsCow stone
The views from both the top and the bottom of the Dragon’s Head Falls are pretty awe inspiring. To get from one level to the other is a twisty, steep 20 minute hike, which includes a short boat ride across the falls.
The path to the cable carCable car number oneGetting a ride
Cable car number one is at the end of a long, beautiful walk through the bamboo, and involves a short ride across a deep gulch.
High above the gulchOur cable car was very crowdedLook at the valley!
On our return trip, two young kids clamored into our car to see the waiguoren, and then hid from us for the duration of the ride, choosing instead to scream in fake terror “救命了! 救命了!” (Save us! Save us!) as the gondola swung high in the air.

If all goes according to our Kunming plan, we’re about to embark on a pretty big series of changes to our China life. It’s exciting and scary, and a little bittersweet to think of leaving our first home in Luzhou. But, we’re ready to be ready to move on, and as part of that process, this spring we’ve been conducting an ongoing “Say Goodbye to Sichuan Province” tour.

Our most recent destination: Yibin’s Bamboo Sea. About an hour and a half away from anywhere (we took a bus to a bus to a bus to a cab to the park), this is true countryside that’s been bounded and sculpted to be impressive and inspiring, but also safe and comfortable. The Bamboo Sea is a self-contained resort: 11 kilometers of rolling mountains covered in massively tall stalks of bamboo, housing two small villages, clusters of hotels, and a small community of local farmers. Hiking trails crisscross the mountains leading to dazzling views of waterfalls, caves, and, of course, bamboo. The movie “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” was filmed there, as many, many people will tell you. It’s gorgeous and serene and lovely.

But it’s also a strangely mediated experience of nature. Each short hike through the bamboo is isolated in its own lush Thoreau-ian enclave, which then spits out into a parking lot, from whence you drive the couple of kilometers to the next spot. All the tourists have the same map, and all of the local service people want to help ferry you through the same route. It’s kind of like a Disneyland for nature walkers. Which is totally our speed: Peter hasn’t been camping since he was a kid, and I’ve been informed that a weekend in a Girl Scout tentalo does not an outdoors-woman make.

The most efficient way to “do” the Bamboo Sea is to hire a driver to take you around to all the spots. Or, you know, have your own car — which many of the other tourists did. (This is where I’ll mention that by our observation, the Bamboo Sea is definitely a destination for China’s celebrated emerging middle class.) We got a guy our first afternoon and were scooted through a series of the best sights in a little red Hyundai Elantra. We had a bit of a battle of wills when we wanted him to stop in one of the villages so we could have some simple noodles for lunch. “Why didn’t you eat at the hotel?” he asked us. All the hotels served sumptuous feasts made of stir-fried bamboo specialties. We were obviously doing it wrong. But we got our noodles and they were delicious.

Day two, we were determined to get somewhere on our own two feet. Fortunately, according to our map, our hotel was a short walk (along a sidewalk-less road) from two recommended sightseeing points. One was a spectacular cable car ride that floated us slowly, in a gondola for two, over the striking gullies and peaks of the sea. The quiet hum of the cable machinery only punctuated the eerie silence of the up in the air. From time to time, returning passengers would call hello, but essentially we felt alone, hanging from the sky above acres and acres of susurrous bamboo.

At the other end of the ride, there was a crumbling pagoda which afforded some fantastic views of the mountain landscape, perfect for your nature photography needs. We also took some glamor shots with some other tourists who were excited to see some Americans on their vacation. Everyone’s dressed in their very best, Peter observed, because this rollicking, green wonderland is one giant photo op.

Upon returning to our side of the cable car line, our next destination was represented on the map as a short, looping walk to nowhere in particular. In reality, this represented an hour and a half hike through the bamboo that turned out to be our favorite part of the trip. A stone path meandered here and there, by small streams, sheer cliff faces and burbling waterfalls. There was technically no sight to see — no paddle boats, no temples or shrines — so the trail was mostly ours. The bamboo made hollow clacking sounds as it swayed in the wind, and Peter and I walked in near silence through the green, unsure of the final terminus, but continuing confidently on.

The magic ended in a small parking lot, of course, where we circled back to home on the asphalt road. And then, actually, someone offered us a lift back to our hotel along the way. We were back in time for bamboo dinner. And then a bamboo snack at the hotel next door. (There’s not a lot of nightlife in the bamboo sea.)

The day of our departure was actually the first official day of the May 1 holiday — being foreign teachers, our vacations are always slightly off from everyone else’s. On our way out of the park and into town, we bused past a miles-long inbound line of Audis, Volkswagons and Range Rovers; the woman running our hotel said that they were bracing themselves for the rush as we were leaving. We felt lucky to have experienced the relative calm of the few days prior. And after another bus, cab, bus and a cab, we were back home. We went out to celebrate — Labor Day, our trip, and just life — in the chaotic environs of our favorite Tai An restaurant. Ah, back to the noisy city life!

Cable car twoA pagodaHigh on the hills of the bamboo seaPeter and the PagodaThe pagoda areaEmily and the Pagoda
Cable car number two is definitely the more spectacular (and spooky) ride. At the summit, there is a small pagoda for picture taking.
An overlooked trailMore waterfall action
Here's a cliff
The bamboo trail
We had this trail almost all to ourselves, and it was easy to forget that the rest of China was out there.

Apr 27, 2014

A long weekend in Leshan and Emei Shan

The monks and monkeys tour

Emei Shan has some staggering views
Our charming room at the Teddy BearTeddy Bear exterior
Our room at the Teddy Bear Hotel was cute and comfortable.
Baoguo Village main street
From the Baoguo Village main street, you can catch a glimpse of the Emei Mountain’s foothills.
The foot of Emei Shan hiking trailThe foot of Emei Shan hiking trailThe foot of Emei Shan hiking trail
The story of the mountain is told at the entrance to the hiking path.
Mountains and cloudsMountains and clouds
The mountain peeks through the clouds.
An encounter with monkeys
An encounter with a monkey is something exciting! Or terrifying!
The cable car ride was shrouded in mist
Our cable car ride was completely clouded over. We couldn’t see or hear anything, and it was pretty eerie.
The elephant at the top of the mountainPeter, the hikerLooking down from the topI'm at the Golden Summit
Photographic proof: We made it to the Golden Summit.
Wolverine Peter, meat handsFinding enlightenment at the bar
Left: The table behind us laughed at Peter’s Meat-Hands Wolverine.
Right: We found our enlightenment in the courtyard at the 3077.
Leshan and the river
A view of Leshan city from the river.
On the boat out to Big BuddhaWe look at the fools who took the stairsBonus guard
Left and center: The boat vs. the stairs. Right: A bonus guard.
Big Buddha is bigThe caves in the cliff face

So, let’s get situated: Leshan Prefecture administers the cities of Leshan, home to the Giant Buddha, and Emei, adjacent to the mountain of the same name. All of this is about a three-hour bus ride from home, and must see sights of southwest Sichuan.

We set camp at the cozycute Teddy Bear Hotel in Baoguo Village, the actual closest settlement to Mt. Emei. The main street of Baoguo Village exists solely to funnel tourists up the mountain past its strip of hostels, hotels and restaurants. At capacity, and our weekend was nowhere near capacity, the area can service approximately a bajillion people. But they still manage to balance function and charm.

The mountain itself is a verdant wonder. And one of China’s Four Sacred Buddhist Peaks. At the base of the hiker’s path, the story of the mountain is plotted out in sculptures and plaques: the journeys of the Shakyamuni Buddha and his six-tusked elephant, and the scholar Bodhisattva Puxian to whom Shakyamuni lent said elephant. It’s very beautiful in the lamp light.

Climbing the mountain is a pilgrimage for some, whether natural or spiritual. Or spirito-natural, I guess. And the hike can be a serious, days-long adventure. On our first night there, Teddy Bear owner Andy asked after our plan. We’d see him in deep consultations over maps and supplies with many groups during the next few days. But our plan was simple. We were going to take the bus and then the cable car straight nearly to the top and get the whole thing done in an afternoon.

The cheater’s way did involve some trekking. We followed the masses up the winding, slippery stone paths to the top. (Our fellow bus passengers snickered at us for bringing the bamboo walking sticks that our hotel provided, but on the mountain many of them shelled out cash for not-free sticks.) The low-oxygen of the high altitude was noticeable, but the climbers included grandparents, babies, and women in high heels, so it wasn’t that challenging. But for those that just couldn’t, a sedan chair ride was 60 yuan per kilometer.

Groups of kiosks sprouted every few hundred meters, selling trinkets and supplies (if you didn’t bring a coat, you could rent one), but also fresh hot snacks; mountain plucked loose tea, dried mushrooms, roots and herbs; mounted butterflies; and all manner of panda merchandise. There are not pandas on Mt. Emei — they’re four hours away in Chengdu — but there are monkeys. And the signs that say watch your stuff are serious warnings. These Tibetan Macaques have no fear of people and quite like their food. We saw a monkey rip a bag out of a man’s hand and go to town on his vacuum-packed tofu and water bottles.

The Golden Summit, as it’s called, is home to a few temples and a statue of Bodhisattva Puxian. It also boasts a few kiosks and restaurants where you can buy souvenirs, sausage, and beer. Not strictly Buddhist. A few groups of tourists asked to take pictures with us; we weren’t the only foreigners on the mountain, but our numbers were few. We also got recognized by a former coworker, which was a sweet moment.

All told, the up and the down took about 8 hours. The experience was both completely touristy and genuinely majestic. The scenery was gorgeous and even the encounter with the monkeys was thrilling. We didn’t find solitude (‘cause we weren’t looking for it), but it was there if you were willing to work for it.

Nightlife in Baoguo Village is pretty subdued — probably because everyone there is getting up early to climb a mountain in the morning. Most everyone online recommends the poorly named Good Eats Street (the fools!), a place filled with cookie cutter copies of restaurants serving bland, expensive versions of the same Sichuan dishes we enjoy at home. We were better served, as it were, by the restaurants along the main street. We zeroed in on one in particular that offered a super delicious cured pork dish that we ordered three times over the course of our short stay. Our other haunt was the courtyard at the 3077 hostel which served drinks and barbecue late into the night. The main attraction there was something we started referring to as “night sausage,” made from the same cured pork we enjoyed so much.

Leshan city is a doable day trip from Baoguo Village, and it looks like a fun place to hang. We only had time, however, for Buddha. Again, there’s a hard and an easy way to do this. The hard way takes you down a sun-baked spiral staircase in single file for two hours with thousands of other tourists. (In China, there’s never just a few tourists.) Our choice: a 20-minute river cruise viewing of the statue. From the boat, you also got a bonus view of Buddha’s two guards carved into the cliff face.

This Buddha, at 71 meters, is the largest, seated stone Buddha in the world. It was carved from the years 713 to 803, and is a breathtaking feat of human engineering. As our boat idled in front of the statue, Buddha sat serenely, half in shade, moss growing epically slowly all over his body. He looks as if he’s always been there.

We’re not necessarily outdoorsy people, and we haven’t been converted away from city life, but we had a fantastic time. I also felt triumphant that I was able to get us so smoothly around an area, catering as it did primarily to domestic tourists, where very little English was spoken. In fact, I even helped a couple of other foreigners get where they were going.

I can’t get too cocky, though. On what was to be our last day, some misunderstanding lead us to look for an afternoon Luzhou bus that didn’t exist. We were trapped in town for another night and had to take an emergency personal day from work. But there are far worse places to be held over, I can tell you. Another round of night sausage, please!

All of Big Buddha

Apr 25, 2014

Snaps: Crosstown traffic

You gotta get where you’re going

This baby stops traffic

Traffic is notoriously terrible here in China, but locals of all ages take it in stride.

Apr 19, 2014

Return to Longan Forest

A walk in the (now finished) park

The longan forest park is very big and beautiful
A pavillion with a tea houseWedding photos
In China, wedding photos are a big, multi-day production and you can get them done anytime, any place, in many different costumes. The big white dress is not traditional here, but more and more popular as China looks to the west for style tips.

Early April in Luzhou is that sweet spot between the cold, rainy winter and the relentlessly sweltering summer — I guess you call that spring — so during that time, it’s priority for us to get out into that sweet, sweet sunshine as much as we can. This year’s Qingming Festival gave us a three-day weekend at the beginning of the month, and Peter and I (and hundreds of Luzhou families) took advantage of our holiday Monday to visit the Longan Forest Scenic Area, which is just a short walk from our countryside campus.

Our first visit to the park was more than a year ago, when it was still under construction. It’s finished now, and really pretty — all manicured greenery and delightful garden paths. It’s big, too. We spent hours walking the hilly grounds from end to end, and it was a 30 kuai cab ride back to our neighborhood afterwards. (Generally, a taxi from the city center out to the new school is half that.)

When the walking started to become more tiring than fun, we stopped at a tea house for a flowery cuppa. Now a stationary target, we attracted bunches of children who wanted to show off their English and parents who wanted to show their kids foreigners. It’s all part of the job.

Water everywhereA man-made waterfall

Apr 15, 2014

The international dinner

Let’s get together, and eat some beef

An international crowd at beef hot pot
An international crowd at beef hot pot
The international roundtable. Top, clockwise from Emily: Maybell, Claude, Andrea, Alex US, Alex UK. Bottom, continuing clockwise from Alex UK: Echo, Crela.

The occasion: We knew some cool people and we met some other cool people, and we thought they should meet, so Peter and I put together a small dinner party a few weeks ago.

It was a truly multi-cultural ‘do. The Chinese side of the guest list was composed of Echo and Crela, and Maybell and Claude. For the Westerners: There was Andrea, an Italian businessman who has lived in Luzhou for nearly a decade. He got in touch with us through Flickr when he recognized the city in our photos. And there were Andrea’s friends, Alex from the U.K. and Alex from the U.S. (“A Double Alex!” Claude exclaimed when we ran down the roster.) The two of them are ESL teachers at a school just south of Luzhou city.

It made for a nice mix: a crew of teachers, current/former Chinese students and a long-time expat Luzhou-ite. Shop talk, tips and advice passed in all directions. We also covered general language and cultural differences — translating jokes for one another that didn’t always make it into the other language. The food got eaten and the beer got drunk and people seemed to have a good time. Hosting success!

“You promised an international party, and it really was an international party,” Crela told us afterwards.

Mar 30, 2014

Snaps: Please, won’t you let me hold your baby?

Oh, I hope he doesn’t pee

I'm finally holding a baby!

Ever since we’ve arrived, I’ve been singing a little song to Peter that goes, “Please, won’t you let me hold your baby?” Because the babies are everywhere and oh-so-cute. Until recently, this request has gone unfulfilled, because who wants to let some strange woman hold a baby.

Then, last week, it happened! Some mother gave her child to me to hold!

A relevant fact: Instead of diapers, a lot of kids wear split crotch pants and just widdle wherever when they feel the urge. So my first thought — after, “Yes! It’s finally happening!” — was, “I hope he doesn’t pee on me, like a gerbil.” Peter’s response, “You didn’t think of that before?”

Mar 29, 2014

The girl gang

Pinkay and friends down Qian Dian Alley

I run wild with the girl gang by Changjiang River

Down Noodle Street — aka Qian Dian Jie — by the old school, there runs a pack of girls, daughters of the business owners there. Pinkay, 9, as the oldest and boldest, is the undisputed leader. Her parents run a restaurant; as do the parents of Shuper and Little Sister; and those of the Not-Twins, who are styled the same but are different ages. Lovely Rita, who probably doesn’t remember this is her English name, belongs to the shoe repair shop. And Ling Ling, the youngest, comes from a small hotel down the way. Sometimes she bounces around on all fours like a puppy, and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

We know them because we eat down that street at least twice a week. They’ll hover over our table as we dine, peppering us with questions, and then walk with us as we pick up some nighttime shopping and head home. Pinkay is the best conversation partner I’ve ever had, chiefly because she doesn’t believe that I can’t speak Chinese. She’s willing to repeat herself endlessly, and accepts all kinds of faces as legitimate responses. Our chats, naturally, hew closely to my recent language lessons. (Thanks, Hello Mylo!) Can you swim? Aren’t these flowers pretty? I can’t play badminton. Can you dance?

At a recent dinner, we had an especially sensical convo. We talked about families and our animal signs. I’m a goat. This is when I asked if they could dance. They said yes so I asked them to do it, and THEY DID! From now on, I’m asking everyone to dance.

They pop up now and again, in different configurations, and basically have an unsupervised run of the neighborhood. They’ve got beef with the dog at the hardware store, but other than that, they’re tolerated and sometimes welcomed everywhere.

Peter and I have started checking out their parents’ restaurants, this week hitting the BBQ place owned by the parents of Shuper and Little Sister. “The girls won’t be around until Saturday,” mom informed us. But we were there to eat. Pinkay, Rita, Ling Ling and a new girl showed up as we were finishing. We talked fruit names, they gave Peter a Chinese name — 圆绿帅, or Handsome Green Yuan — and then they walked us home.

Me and the girls at chuan chuan
From left to right: Shuper, Rita, Pinkay, Ling Ling and Emily

Mar 29, 2014

Down time in Luzhou

Walking and eating

The new old buildings by Changjiang River
Hanging out on the parapetI chat with Listening and CrelaOthers frolic on the "old" templeI'm an angel
We spent some time goofing around in a small photography studio which provided costumes and backdrops for your shutterbugging enjoyment. Crela and Listening accompany me as I get my wings.

In the interim between vacation’s end and school’s start we received just enough invitations out to keep us from going stir crazy (though not too many that they cut into our glorious just-us time). Listening was home from university, so we got together with him and Crela and Echo for a lazy lunch date one January afternoon.

Our local friends introduced us to pig cake (zhuerbao), a Luzhou specialty dumpling with a glutinous rice shell and a savory pork filling. They are rich and delicious, and a steady supply came streaming out of the kitchen in bamboo steamers stacked higher than a man’s head. The kids talked about their various plans to get to America. We advised that waiting tables would be a better situation than washing dishes, but all three of them seemed eager for any opportunity.

After lunch, we walked down by the newly facelifted riverfront. Down toward the city center, there’s now a giant, “ancient” city gate and temple. “The [local] government has too much money and nothing else to build,” Listening told us when we asked about the “why”. The doors to the temple are locked, and there’s nothing inside. He pocketed his camera, not desiring photos of a tourist trap. We’ll take pictures of anything, though.