Xi'an

Today was the first day that, for a time at least, we probably heard as much English as Mandarin. In short, we were American gringo tourists visiting the Terra Cotta Warriors Museum, which was about a half-hour crazy van ride from our hotel.

The experience lived up to the hype. There are three open pits where the excavation of these life-size clay figures from the Qin Dynasty is ongoing. So far only a fraction of what archeologists believe is there has been uncovered. The scope of what was done during the period—more than 700,000 people helped to build this separate underground world—is truly impressive.

For dinner, we attended another event that caters to the tourist—a seven-course meal of Chinese food followed by a musical show about the Great Tang Dynasty in an ornate theater. “April,” our Xi’an guide, managed to get Leah on stage afterward to have her picture taken with the performers. (Leah is the one without the headgear.)

One footnote to the day. In between the dinner and the show I was walking to the back of the theater when I heard someone call my name. Turns out that a student of mine is touring with a group of musicians from Pennsylvania. In a country of 1.3 billion, what are the odds of that encounter? Lugnuts: You just can never get away from them.

Holding Pattern

I wish there were a way to make this long story short, but there’s not; we had another bad travel day. When our morning flight from Hangzhou to Xi’an was delayed because of mechanical problems, we were taken by bus from the airport back to a hotel for lunch and to await word on our fate. We later learned that the flight had been cancelled and we were sentenced to a day in the hotel room, re-scheduled to leave at 10 p.m.

One of our activities was looking down from 16 floors above and watching the chaotic intersections. No accidents to report but many close calls.

With “Ben” no longer with us and the International Hotel much less accommodating to westerners than the places we had been staying, we were essentially on our own. We decided to take a short walk through the crowded market area where the hotel was located. On our way back, we were approached by a girl who looked to be about 9 or 10 but was actually a half-year older than Leah. Lu Guang Shu was a delight. She was intent on somehow communicating with us. We followed her to a bookstore where she borrowed an electronic translator and managed to exchange names and phone numbers with Leah.

Back at the hotel, we made it through dinner using only chopsticks, although we didn’t contribute much to the dinnertime conversation as the only English speakers among our table of infrequent fliers.

We finally left the International around 10 p.m., made the 20-minute bus ride to the airport and boarded our 11:20 flight—only to sit on the runway for two hours because, we learned later, a passenger became belligerent. The end of this story is we checked into to our hotel in Xi’an around 5 a.m.—just in time to see the sun rise.

Hangzhou

We returned from Yiwu to Hangzhou yesterday after our time at the orphanage, where we really were treated very well. The officials we spoke to took up a good part of their morning showing us around. After that, we spent almost two hours eating lunch with them at a local restaurant, where Leah later played the violin for everyone.

Being in the nursery—we couldn’t take pictures there, the one restriction they placed on us—where Leah and the 11 other girls from our adoption group had lived was pretty moving and is still a little difficult to process completely.

Today—our last full day in Hangzhou—was much lighter. It began with a visit to a theme park of sorts about the Song Dynasty from 960-1279 (lasting just slightly longer—or does it only seem that way?—than the current U.S. administration). Cheryl and Leah tested their balancing skills. Of the two, who seems more comfortable?

We also visited the village of Meijiawu, where tea is grown and harvested (and where Leah demonstrated her unique tea-tasting technique), shopped on the Ancient Street of Qinghefang with its 100-year-old stores and ended the day taking in a pretty spectacular performance called West Lake Night that included acrobatics, stunts, dancing and music. And, yes, those are the ends of swords, so please do not try this one at home.

Yiwu Orphanage

Photos from our visit to the orphanage where Leah spent her first nine months (top to bottom): 1) Leah with Yiwu Social Welfare Institute Director Li Yan Cai and Deputy Director He Guo Hua; 2) Near the Institute gate where she was found; 3) With the director of the local kindergarten, Chen Chun Hua, who works closely with the Institute; 4) Leah and Cheryl (with translator Fu Jie) giving He a booklet of photos of Leah’s adoption group; 5) Sorting out our donations; 6) Yiwu Social Welfare Institute alumna Ni Qi with a current resident; 7) Cheryl with the resident; 8) One of the staff with another baby; 9) Ni Qi, 1996.

Hangzhou to Yiwu

I’m used to getting up at 4 a.m., but when Leah and Cheryl are awake at that hour, the stars need to be realigned. So Leah decided to join me today for a morning run. We found that even leaving at 5:30 a.m. (the sun rises and sets about an hour earlier here than it does at home) we found much activity around West Lake—walking, running, bicycling, marching, practicing tai chi and even dancing. We caused a bit of a stir having this photo of us taken. We asked a lady who apparently didn’t know how to work the camera. By the time she found someone who did, we had a crowd watching us.

Today we traveled by van to Yiwu, a city of two million south of Hangzhou and where the orphanage in which Leah spent her first nine months is located. We will visit it tomorrow. Upon arriving, we had lunch and then spent the afternoon at a very large mall. I’ve never been to the Mall of America (and I hope never to be before I die), but I can’t imagine it being larger than this one. It was laid out like a maze on multiple floors.

One of the interesting things we’ve been observing is how the Chinese approach Leah. We do get some stares when they see her with the two of use, probably trying to figure out the relationship. But at the stores today, most of the clerks would ignore Cheryl and me and directly address Leah in Chinese. Even when she indicated that she didn’t understand, some continued. And in one store an American shopper asked her about clothing sizes, thinking she worked there because, he said, her English was pretty good!

Hangzhou

Stayed on the straight and narrow for my morning run today. What I did discover by chance, however, was some very familiar ground: The Shangri-La Hotel, where we first met Leah 11 years and 9 months ago to the day. We all went back on our first stop this morning to take pictures by the sign out front and in the lobby, where we met almost daily with the other families in our group in 1996. It sure brought back many great memories; we also discovered that Leah no longer fits in the papoose carrier that was her home for those two-and-a-half weeks. Memory Lane also included a boat ride on West Lake. (That’s our guide with us, Fu Jie, or “Ben.”) It really is almost as beautiful as one tour company’s description of it: “Dotted with temples and pagodas, the lake glistens against a curl of green hills.” Perhaps the “glistens” is a bit much, but you get the picture.

We also visited a Buddhist temple and the surrounding grounds, a place we had also seen in ’96. The Linying Temple, which dates from 326 B.C., once housed 3,000 monks in 300 buildings. Today, in addition to being a tourist attraction, it is still home to about 100 monks.

The population of Hangzhou and the surrounding area is almost 9 million, but most of our memory of it had centered on this beautiful area near the lake. Today didn’t do anything to change that.

Suzhou to Hangzhou

The day got off to an ominous start when I got lost on a morning run, turning a planned 30-minute workout into more than an hour. I left about 5:30 and wasn’t the first out on the road by a long shot. By the time I returned things were crowded. At least I avoided becoming the subject of a headline: “Unidentified foreigner crushed in bike, scooter, bus crash.”

This morning we took a boat ride on what was once the moat around Suzhou. It now connects with a larger canal that runs from Beijing south. As you can probably see, the houses are fairly dilapidated; our guide told us they typically house large families in very cramped quarters. We saw a number of people doing their wash in the canal, others were fishing although the water is so polluted that the fish aren’t edible. The day’s other stop had to do with silk again—an embroidery factory that produced some pretty incredible work. Some of the pieces, including the frames, were going for the equivalent of hundreds of thousands of dollars. It was government run: All the employees dressed the same and wore identification tags that had numbers, not names. And there were many more workers than customers. The woman who showed us around made several glowing historical references to “Chairman Mao.” Each year the national government commissions a number of works, which it then gives as gifts to foreign dignitaries who visit China.

In the afternoon we took the train again, about two hours southwest to Hangzhou, where we spent the majority of our two-and-a-half-week stay in China in 1996. Unlike the plane we came over on, the trains here are modern, clean and spacious; perhaps we can find a direct one back to Williamsport? We all took “bobble head” naps on the ride. Thankfully, nothing is on the agenda for tonight.

Suzhou

Still a little messed up with the sleeping patterns. The fact that Leah and Cheryl were awake and perky at 6 a.m. says it all. Actually, Leah had a tough night. We awoke once to find her sitting on the side of the bed asking where her “Chinese passport” was and, later, standing and clutching a blanket saying nonsensical things. When we finally got going we mingled with a couple million of our new friends in town in and then took a commuter train from Shanghai to Suzhou, about a 40-minute ride to the southwest. We met the new local host, Helen, and visited a beautiful 14-acre garden, similar to the one we saw yesterday but much larger, one of the four largest in China. We checked into the Bamboo Grove Hotel and then spent a good part of the afternoon at a silk factory and museum. How silk is made and how people work in these factories are equally intriguing. We returned to a second garden this evening to see a series of musical, dance and theatrical performances.

My first, and now probably only, attempt at using chopsticks ended at lunch today when Cheryl and Leah pointed out that I was gripping them upside down. Helen thought I was doing it just to be funny. Leah was a little more successful, as you can see. And speaking of Leah, she never recovered from a late-afternoon nap and the day ended with a rarity: She was asleep before I was.

Shanghai

We didn't have much time to think of being tired. We were met at the airport by "Ivan" and "Ben"--apparently, they feel they must Americanize their names for us tourist types; we also saw a "Bob" and "Richie" at the hotel--whom we identified by the rather large "Bradley Luther Nason" sign they were holding.

Because we missed yesterday, we jumped right in, visiting a garden and historic home, the Shanghai Museum (both pictured), a monument for local soldiers, a jewelry shop specializing in pearls (and apparently kept open late just for us) and, finally, dinner at an authentic Chinese restaurant that included way too much food. We were driven around the city in a van and quickly recalled from our previous trip the craziness and chaos that comprises urban driving here. They use horns quite a bit, but not in the angry way we do at home. And they somehow manage to accommodate cars, trucks, bicycles and scooters all on the same roads and all without stop signs.

Take Two

Take two was better; still a very long day. Left around 10 a.m. Our route took us northwest from Chicago to the western provinces of Canada, over Nome, Alaska and the Bering Strait and then past southern Siberia and the northern part of Japan (pictured) before crossing into China. We arrived in Shanghai around 1 p.m. (Sunday), essentially pulling an all-nighter. Cheryl got in touch with the trip organizer last night and we’ll readjust the itinerary, but it looks like we’ll miss at least part of one day’s activities in Shanghai.

The plane probably has more Asians than any other group. When we were required to fill out forms for our arrival in China, the flight attendant asked Leah whether she held a U.S. or Chinese passport. Interesting, because for the first time in her life, she will be in the racial majority when we touch down.

Travel Troubles

Our early-morning trip from Philadelphia to Chicago went well, but we waited for two hours on the O'Hare runway because of storms in the area. Finally, around 12:30 p.m. we took off. About a half-hour later the pilot announced there was a problem: A bird had apparently been sucked into the engine during takeoff and it wasn't safe to continue. We ended up burning fuel and returning to Chicago. Four hours in a plane with a net total gain of zero miles. So tonight, somewhat discouraged, we're stuck in a Comfort Inn without our luggage waiting for a 9 a.m. flight tomorrow.

Waiting

Part of the trip included the fortuitous scheduling of the Red Sox in Philadelphia for a day game on Wednesday. That left today for us to spend at the Newburgs. While Cheryl visited an intern (which, if I understand the IRS correctly, means we can deduct the miles), Leah talked on the phone and wrote in her journal while I napped (twice).

We also made a trip to the mall because of the unfortunate seat crushing of Leah's camera yesterday at the ballpark. Turns out it would cost almost as much to repair it as to buy a new one, so... At least the Red Sox won, 7-4. Tomorrow we plan to leave for the airport around 4:30 a.m.