China Part 5: Pandas, Poets and Planes

And we reach the last of my China blogs!

As I mentioned in my last blog post, I also took weekend numero 3 in Chengdu to finally get around to seeing some Giant Pandas.

The Sichuan Giant Panda sanctuaries are also on the UNESCO World Heritage list, and although the Chengdu base is not included in that listing, it is surely of equal importance. Today, the Giant Pandas are found only in 3 provinces, and there are fewer than 1000 of them left – and 80% of them are distributed within the Sichuan province alone. So you can see why their care is so important - it would be terribly sad to lose such beautiful animals to extinction. 

And they are really beautiful (and so, so cute!)

We walked around a bit and saw some tiny, tiny baby pandas in what looked like incubators (Pandas are born around 1/900th the size of its mother. They can weigh as little as 50-120 grams, and they look like little pink rats. By the time they are six months old, they are fairly large and completely recognisable as pandas. An adult panda will weigh around 100-150kg; so really, their rate of growth is simply astonishing).

Baby Panda!

We also saw some cubs under a year old, who were just adorable and reminded me of toddlers. We got to the base really early in the morning, because once the sun gets up, that’s it – its too hot for them and they’re all taken inside – and we were able to watch them being fed. Two of the pandas were sitting on a platform and eating bamboo, of which there was enough to go around, but they just wouldn’t share it, and kept snatching the same bit of bamboo from each other, and playing tug of war with it. It was hysterical.

There was another panda in the same enclosure who decided to climb a tree, but he (or she) just couldn’t get comfortable, because (s)he was climbing and twisting and wriggling, and at one point was hanging out of the tree, upside down supported only by his/her legs.

They’re very beautiful and entertaining animals and I’ve come home with a mind to give some money to WWF when I can afford it, because it really would be a tragedy if they were to go extinct.

We also got to see some Red Pandas (who did not look like what I expected, being more reminiscent of foxes than pandas) and some Black Swans, which really surprised me, and was actually a little bit creepy.

The beginning of the week saw a spate of volunteers leaving China to go home, which was a real shame as we had a really lovely group going. Speaking of the other volunteers, it actually occurred to me lately that my one month in China was more Erasmus and international than all of the 10 months I spent in Paris combined. There were Brits, Americans, French, an Italian, Norwegians, an Australian and probably a few others that escape me right now.

That week had lots of ups and one very big down, when I was walking to the metro one morning. It was tipping it down with rain, and I suddenly felt a weird tug to my side. I turned to look, and caught a man with his hand literally in my handbag, trying to nick my phone. I have no idea how he managed to get the zip open without my even noticing – My bag was tiny, I kept it very close to me, and I was walking pretty fast to get out of the rain – but I was extremely lucky that I turned around when I did, or he’d have lifted it and been off. I wished I’d yelled at him or something but I literally was just so gobsmacked that me and the pickpocket just had a bit of a staring match for what felt like forever but was probably only a second or two before he bolted, the tosser.

Mid-week, there was another PA Social. We went to a Tibetan restaurant, which was really cute. When we got there, we all got shown into a separate room, with low benches and tables, and ordered a range of Tibetan food including a really spicy dish which was actually lovely, and Yak Sausages.

That’s right, Yak. And they weren’t half bad either!

That night was Jane’s last night in China, so we went out afterwards to a bar near this bridge, which I thought was pretty cool, although the river smelt appalling:

And we had a lot to drink. And that is the night summarised!

The Friday of that week was the last day of my internship, which worked out very nicely, since it meant I had a long weekend with which to do some frantic sightseeing and cross as much off my ‘to-do’ list as possible! I initially had a mega weekend lined up which would have involved staying overnight in a mountaintop temple, but unfortunately it all fell through, so I had to fill my weekend with other things instead, starting with, on the Saturday, Du Fu’s Thatched cottage.

Du Fu is considered to be one of the greatest Chinese poets, and set up a thatched cottage in the park in the Tang Dynasty, around 759, where he was apparently inspired to compose more than 240 poems. The original building is obviously long since gone – what’s there is completely modern – but it’s set within a beautiful park (beautiful – and quiet! A real contrast from People’s Park down the road). …

Inside the thatched cottage: gardens are quiet; streams are winding; bridges and pavilions are interwoven; trees reach for the sky; plum trees and bamboos stand side by side; and classical architectural styles bring you a strong cultural atmosphere. 

http://www.travelchinaguide.com/attraction/sichuan/chengdu/dufu.htm

After that I went to Qinyangong Taoist Temple, which is the oldest Taoist temple in Chengdu. It was built during the Tang Dynasty, and is also known as the ‘Green Goat Temple’. It's another working temple, full of intricate pavilions, dragon carvings and bright colours. They all have a deep significance in terms of Taoism, but I didn't see any tourist leaflets or anything like that around, and as what I read on the signs next to each thing of importance has now been forgotten, said significance is now, sadly, lost on me completely, although I did recognise what I am 99% certain were the animals of Chinese New Year fame and the Yin/Yang symbol.

That night, I finally made it to Jinli Old Street, which is an old market street stretching for over 300 metres through Chengdu. It is full of tea houses and stores which are an utter tourist trap for foreigners and Chinese alike - embroidering, carvings, other handicrafts and such things. It was crowded with people (crowded should be China's buzzword) but also utterly charming.

But best of all was the Sichuan Opera. Now, this isn’t opera like you’d get in Covent Garden. It’s not even opera at all, really. And it’s held in a tea house (although unfortunately, the tea was way too bitter for my taste).

Sichuan Opera is more of an entertainment show, and it is particularly important in Chengdu Culture. There are a few clips in this video that I made – watch it to the end for the best bit!

The last two clips are of something called ’face changing’, and it was pretty amazing. They change their Sichuan opera masks in magically quick succession, by waving their arms about and swishing their clocks, the mask on their faces changes over and over again. Apparently, this idea started about 300 years ago. They wear full face, painted silk masks in layers, and they pull them off one by one. It was pretty awesome to watch because you just couldn’t see him do it! My other favourite part was definitely the shadow shapes. I didn’t manage to record all of it, because the memory was running low on my phone, but that was also pretty awesome. I’m so glad I got to go.

On my last full day in China, Noémie and I finally got to go and see the Leshan Giant Buddha (yet another UNESCO World Heritage site).

The morning started in stress. For all that China is rapidly catching up with the rest of the world in a lot of areas, it can be so behind the times. Example One: E-Tickets have apparently not made it there yet. We turned up at the coach station in the morning, and joined the longest, loudest, most chaotic queue I have ever seen. Everyone around us looked confused, which did not bode well for us, as it wasn't like we had the advantage of speaking Chinese, and (obviously) it was boiling hot.  And then when we finally got handed our tickets, and got onto a bus, there was a few absolutely heart stopping moments where it was clear to utterly no-one where the bus we were sat on was actually going. 

It actually reminded me forcefully of this extract from Jerome K Jerome's wonderful 'Three Men in a Boat':

"We got to Waterloo at eleven, and asked where the eleven-five started from. Of course nobody knew; nobody at Waterloo ever does know where a train is going to start from, or where a train when it does start is going to, or anything about it. The porter who took our things thought it would go from number two platform, while another porter, with whom he discussed the question, had heard a rumour that it would go from number one. The station-master, on the other hand, was convinced it would start from the local.

To put an end to the matter, we went upstairs, and asked the traffic superintendent, and he told us that he had just met a man, who said he had seen it at number three platform. We went to number three platform, but the authorities there said that they rather thought that train was the Southampton express, or else the Windsor loop. But they were sure it wasn't the Kingston train, though why they were sure it wasn't they couldn't say.

Then our porter said he thought that must be it on the high-level platform; said he thought he knew the train. So we went to the high-level platform, and saw the engine-driver, and asked him if he was going to Kingston. He said he couldn't say for certain of course, but that he rather thought he was. Anyhow, if he wasn't the 11.5 for Kingston, he said he was pretty confident he was the 9.32 for Virginia Water, or the 10 a.m. express for the Isle of Wight, or somewhere in that direction, and we should all know when we got there. We slipped half-a-crown into his hand, and begged him to be the 11.5 for Kingston.

"Nobody will ever know, on this line," we said, "what you are, or where you're going. You know the way, you slip off quietly and go to Kingston."

"Well, I don't know, gents," replied the noble fellow, "but I suppose SOME train's got to go to Kingston; and I'll do it. Gimme the half-crown."

Thus we got to Kingston by the London and South-Western Railway.

We learnt, afterwards, that the train we had come by was really the Exeter mail, and that they had spent hours at Waterloo, looking for it, and nobody knew what had become of it."

Anyway, stresses aside and confusion overcome, we finally made it to Leshan.

The first thing I'll say about our experience at the Buddha itself, is that it resulted in the best 'Worst English' sign that I saw during my month in China, and I really regret not taking a photo of it. For one reason or another, we didn't get to Leshan until quite late in the day, and so we planned on seeing the Buddha by boat.

We walked over to the booths where tickets for this were sold, were a solemn looking Chinese lady pronounced 'No boat'. We asked why, and she pointed to a sign which was clearly there for the benefit of English speaking tourists, and which proudly announced:

BE LIMITED EXPORT

Que blank faces on our part. 

Bless the efforts of whoever tried to put that sign together, but that doesn't really tell me anything other than a little about foreign language education in China. A few more questions and some deciphering of severely broken English, and it was established that the water level was too high for the boats to run safely, or something like that. I'm not sure how Be Limited Export is supposed to indicate 'Danger' to tourists, but there we have it. 

Initial plans scuppered, we payed to go into the scenic area on foot and climbed up towards to Giant Buddha. Unfortunately, the only part of him we got to see was his head, because after half an hour of standing in the queue that would lead us down to his feet, it became clear that we'd never get to the end of said queue without waiting there overnight, which obviously wasn't an option.

Still, his head was very impressive, and by not waiting in the queue we got to see a bit more of the park than we would have otherwise, so maybe it was for the best.

Have a few pictures - they'll describe it better than I ever could.

And after that... well, before I knew it, it was the 5^th August. I had to give a presentation to a group of people with Projects Abroad in the morning, but then the rest of my day was devoted to packing and getting ready to go home. I had planned to fit one more thing in, but it just proved to be impractical in the end. Late that night, I left my keys in my safe, headed out to grab a taxi and before I knew it, I was at the airport, and then I was connecting in Doha, and then I was back at London Heathrow and zipping homebound down the motorway. I was lucky that I had an evening flight, because I was able to sleep (or try to sleep) through most of it and it made the journey go that much quicker.

So that’s it! One month in China, blogged about in rather more installments than I had originally envisaged. I’m glad to be home, and I’m looking forward to getting back to London and finishing off my degree - but I had an absolutely cracking month out in China and I don’t regret a second of the past year, even the things that didn’t pan out how I would have wanted them to.

On the 31^st I’ll upload my final blog post looking back on the 12 months that have passed since I first got on that plane headed for Paris (fastest twelve months of my life, no question).  

Until then –

Vicky xx

China Part 4: Tianfu, Tinder and Tea

Last time I posted about my mega weekend in brilliant Beijing, but in doing so, I missed out one or two things which happened before that, so I’ll quickly write about that before I go on to week 3.

Two days before I flew to Beijing, a group of us headed back to Tianfu Square (which I wrote about last time) for the Water Show…

“Every evening at dusk, as well as at noontime, an elaborate water show, synchronized to music, bursts out from the square’s fountains and attracts crowds of people during the spring and summer.” (http://www.chengduliving.com/guide-to-chengdu/sights/tianfu-square/) 

Now don’t get me wrong, the fountains were lovely, but you are talking to a person who’d been to the water show at Versailles about three weeks prior, a show which set such impossibly high standards that I’ll probably always be cold hearted and unimpressed at every other fountain show. (Not really. But Versailles was very fresh in my memory). 

Anyway, what was lovely about this was the atmosphere. Crowds of people were gathered, and there were load of little kids running around twirling pretty ribbons on sticks.

And being a big kid myself, of course I had to have my own one.

So me and the others joined the little Chinese kids mucking about in the square, having a good laugh twirling our own pretty ribbons, and attracting, at one point, quite a large audience, which was a bit embarrassing and very amusing at the same time. I think I mentioned when I wrote about People’s Park that people stopped us to take photos – westerners seemed to be a bit of a novelty (at least twice that week I found myself stood by two groups of girls who kept looking at me and bursting into giggles whenever I looked back at them, which was a bit uncomfortable). Anyway, I dread to think how many people took photos of us that night in Tianfu Square.

It was fun, anyway :)

If you read my last post about Beijing, you’ll also know that the whole weekend we were struggling with the heat. Well, we arrived back from Beijing late on the Sunday night and I had to take the Monday off because I was more dehydrated than I think I’d ever been and was feeling extremely rubbish as a result. So the Monday became a bit of a write off, really, as did a lot of that week for one reason or another, although I did have fajitas!

I mention this as a highlight of my week mainly because it was around this point that I realised that there is such a thing as too much Chinese food. Western food is not exactly in abundance out there, and what there was tended not to be great. And so, every day for nigh on three weeks I’d been eating noodles, rice, dumplings, more noodles, more rice, and more dumplings. Then a few more noodles, then some more rice, and then some more dumplings again. It was all delicious, of course, but...

Chinese Proverb*: Two Tons of noodles bring man great fortune
*This may or may not be made up.

You get the picture.

Now I’m home, I’m torn between not wanting to eat Chinese again for some considerable time and wanting to show off my newly found chopstick skills to my parents. I think the former will win out, but who knows?

On Friday night, the PA team had a social at KTV. Now, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this or not, but the Chinese love karaoke. They love it. When Jane and I went over to People’s Park that week, there were karaoke stations set up along pathways, and every five metres there was someone else singing their hearts out. KTV is a dedicated place for this. Groups of people go in and you can hire a room to sing in with your group – no strangers to act as an audience.

I should also mention that I am no great fan of karaoke, and categorically swore before I left for China that I would not be drawn into it. Nu-uh; no way José.

I could hear my parents and my brother laughing hysterically from thousands of miles away.

Still, it was actually quite fun - it quite quickly descended into a lot of loud group singing, of which I have some hysterical and very embarrassing videos tucked away on my iPhone, and we all had a laugh, and that’s the main thing, really (although, if any of my friends are reading this, don’t expect me to give in and go to karaoke with you any time soon. It’s still not my cup of tea). Although, it did make me realise how much I appreciate the smoking ban back home. My clothes were reeking of smoke by the end of the night.

After that, we all went out to a bar for some more drinks, and then to a club called Muse (which was much flashier than any club I’ve been to back home) where not a lot of people seemed to be dancing. It fell to the western contingent to fly the flag, and so we clambered up on the stage, danced a lot, probably got stared at a lot, got invited over by some man for loads of free drinks, danced some more, had a really good time, and then finally stumbled in about 4am, which was a shame in a way, since it meant I didn’t wake up until embarrassingly late and wasted most of my Saturday.

The weekends were the best parts of my time in China, because as valuable as an internship is, who wants to go all the way to China to sit inside an office all day? I wanted to explore *whines*.

So, when we all regained consciousness, a few of us summoned up some energy and headed over to Wenshu Monastery, which is the best-preserved Buddhist temple in Chengdu. I’d tell you when it was built, except that I found three different websites telling me that it was built in three different dynasties, and so I have no clue.

Still, it was very large, and very interesting to walk around, looking at all the statues of Buddha, the flowers placed in front of individual statues, and people lighting incense and placing them in large cauldrons or something similar.

It was very traditional and tourist site or not, really made me think of real China.

Outside the monastery, there were a few local shops and stalls, and a local performer... 

This was also where Noémie and Michela also had an unfortunate (but quite entertaining) experience with durian, which is a fruit very common in Asia, particularly, I’m told, in Thailand. They’re everywhere, so this wasn’t the first time I’d come into contact with it – you can’t miss it, really, as it smells absolutely revolting. I simply cannot emphasise enough how bad this thing reeks - you don’t even need to crack the shell open for this fruit to smell extremely strongly, and I don’t exaggerate when I say it could set off my gag reflex. Jane didn’t like the smell either, and she told me that it tastes exactly how it smells, so I wasn’t about to go trying it. But Bryan, another volunteer from Macau, was with us, and he convinced them that it was lovely and that they really should try it…

Mean trick. They tried it, they hated it, and their faces were absolutely priceless. It was hysterical.

On Sunday, we headed back to People’s Park, where we stumbled across something very, very bizarre.

Picture the scene. You’re stood in the middle of a very large and noisy park. Along one pathway, there are lots of older Chinese people, both men and women, stood next to large easels on which big posters have been set up, full of Chinese characters and numbers, and sometimes photos.

These posters are listing all the personal details of the children/grandchildren of these old folk. And I mean all the personal details.

Age, Height, Weight, Degree, Job, Do they drive a car? What is their salary?

And then people walk around reviewing these posters, and they will do some sums to see if the numbers match up – if they’re lucky according to Chinese superstition, and the like – to see if two people are an acceptable pair, hoping to get the subjects of these posters married off.

It’s a dating service run by your mum, essentially.

Oh, China, you’re so wonderfully weird.

Heading out of TinderZone, as I have baptised it, we walked past a group of men painting Chinese characters on the floor with water, which was oddly fascinating to watch.

Really, when I’m talking about China – and People’s Park in particular - I think my only option is to upload the odd video that I took. Everything is so different, and to me, who before now had only ever travelled in the West, every new little thing like this was a constant source of fascination to me. In any case, I really think that China is not a place to be described, it is a place to be seen, and so my dodgy videoing skills shall have to suffice in the meantime.

We also made sure to have some tea in a teahouse that me a Noémie found the first time we went to the park. I had Chrysanthemum Flower tea, which I didn’t think I’d like, but which was actually surprisingly nice, which might be down to the sheer amount of sugar that came in the bottom of the glass. Some of the other, more traditional teas looked somewhat suspect to me though, and I’m not so sure I would have liked those, although I’m not in a position to judge since I didn’t actually try them.

We also went to the Wide and Narrow Alleys, two old fashioned streets in Chengdu which have lots of traditional teahouses and places to eat. Last, but most definitely not least, I also went to see the Pandas (yay!) but, to do them justice, I’ll write about them in the next blog post (which will also be the last one on China).

By the end of the weekend I only had 5 days of internship and 9 full days in China left. Those first three weeks went extremely quickly, which I’ll admit, I was quite happy about. I’ve spent a lot of time away from the UK and from home this year and despite the fact that I was having the time of my life; I was also rapidly reaching my limit, and the idea of spending more than 5 days at home before rushing off somewhere else again was looking increasingly attractive.

Next Time – China part the last (part 5): Pandas, Poets and Planes

Vicky xx

China Part 2: Internships and Intestines

Once I had been in China for two days, I went into my placement, at a law firm called King and Wood Mallesons, for the first time. For the law nerds amongst you, King and Wood Mallesons is a top law firm in China, established in 1993. It merged with an Australian Firm, Mallesons Stephen Jacques in 2012 and with UK firm SJ Berwin in 2013 (SJ Berwin is temporarily known as King and Wood Mallesons SJ Berwin, which is a mouthful, but eventually the SJ Berwin element will be dropped completely). This makes it the first global law firm to have their headquarters in Asia. They have over 2700 lawyers, including more than 550 partners in 31 worldwide locations.

Spiel over.

Anyway, on my first morning, I was supposed to go in about 9 (and I left in some seriously torrential rain) when the PA staff called me and said my supervisor wasn't in the office. So I finally got there about 11ish.

The building is brand new – part of a giant shopping centre with lots of luxury brands - and on the 16th floor. (Interestingly, I later noted in the lift that this building has a 13^th floor and a 13A, but no 14^th floor. I assume that this is because 4 is considered an unlucky number in Chinese culture – its pronunciation sounds a lot like the word for death – but it struck me as a bit ironic, because, obviously, in our culture, 13 is considered to be unlucky, and yet this tower block had two 13^th floors!)

View from the Office

It was a spacious office, with lots of glass and chrome and all very modern and whatnot, which was sort of what I expected, but after that, I found lots of and lots of differences to what I had anticipated.

When I got there, the receptionist is wearing pink trainers, jeans and an Adidas t-shirt, as were some of the lawyers. Very loud gobbing was common (and I’m sorry, but I can never suppress a shudder when people do that, no matter where I am. It’s rank) and when I came back from lunch everyone, and I mean everyone, was napping at their desks, with the pillows they had brought in specifically for this purpose, which the other intern said was totally normal. Random men would occasionally wonder in and try to sell their wares. In fact, the office atmosphere was probably the biggest culture shock to my system during my time in Chengdu, although I did manage to adjust fairly well (I think).  

But they were all very nice, which did make life considerably easier.

By 4pm, though, I still hadn’t been given anything to do – and my advice is, if you ever go on an internship like this, you have to be proactive and keep asking for work, or you won’t any and therefore you won’t get anything out of your experience. Eventually, I got sent a legal brief on the PRC rules for doing foreign investment in China which I read through, found quite interesting, and sent my supervisor a bunch of questions about it.

Anyway, in the process of reading this digest, I googled - well, no, the Chinese firewall is reluctant to let Google load very often, if at all, so I had to use Bing instead - an organisation here called the National Development and Reform Commission of the Peoples Republic of China. Bit of a mouthful, I know. This is its list of departments: 

…The General Office, Department of Policy Studies, Department of Development Planning, Department of National Economy, Bureau of Economic Operations Adjustment, Department of Economic Operations Adjustment, Department of Economic System Reform, Department of Fixed Asset Investment, Department of Foreign Capital and Overseas Investment, Department of Regional Economy, Department of Western Regional Development, Department of North-eastern Region Revitalization, Department of Rural Economy, Department of Basic Industries, Department of Industry, Department of High-Tech Industry, Department of Resource Conservation and Environmental Protection, Department of Climate Change, Department of Social Development, Department of Employment and Income Distribution, Department of Trade, Department of Fiscal and Financial Affairs, Department of Price, Bureau of Price Supervision and Anti Monopoly, Department of Laws and Regulations, Department of International Cooperation, Department of Personnel, Office of National Economic Mobilization, Office of Key Project Inspectors, the NDRC Party Committee, Bureau of Retired Officials, State Bureau of Material Reserve, State Grain Administration and the National Energy Administration. 

Seriously. For one commission. And is it only me or do several of them look the same? 

Point is, learning a little bit about how China really operates while I was there ended up being quite interesting, seeing as I've been completely ignorant of it before now.

On my second morning, things didn’t start out so well, because the way I was shown how to get to the office the day before took me through the shopping centre, which wasn’t even open when I tried to take the same route  and I ended up getting lost.

King Kong Panda climbing the office
*not really. He was part of the rooftop sculpture garden

Still, when I eventually got there, word had spread that there was another intern in the office and I got a few things to do – for instance, one lawyer came and found me and emailed me a Sino-Foreign Equity Joint Venture Contract to look over and proofread) – and I got asked to collaborate with another intern, who’d already been there for a few weeks already, on a presentation about Chinese Investment in Europe.

One good thing about working here was that all the employees and other interns were really welcoming and friendly, and we went out for lunch with them a fair bit, usually to places I would never have found on my own and which are clearly local haunts. This meant that a lot of my ‘authentic’ food experiences were done in the course of my internship, rather than by me alone.

There are eight culinary traditions in China, and Sichuan cuisine is one of them. Chengdu was actually declared by UNESCO to be a city of gastronomy in 2011, in order to recognise its style of cooking. According to Wikipedia, (and I would agree with this assessment), the most prominent traits of Sichuan cuisine can be encapsulated in four words; spicy, hot, fresh and fragrant.

For instance, on one occasion, we went somewhere where I tried bamboo for the first time (not bad, although it seemed to meet with mixed reviews amongst the other volunteers) and Chengdu Hotpot, which is a specialty to this area and can't be found anywhere else in China, or so they told me. It also lives up to its name. I swear there were about 50 chillies crushed on top of this dish alone, ignoring the amount that had been mixed into the sauce. Chengdu is a region that likes its spice! It was full of flavour though, and the spice numbed my mouth as opposed to setting it on fire, which was not what I’d expected. Anyway, once I got over the spice, I actually quite enjoyed it.

Another benefit of going to lunch with the people from the office was that, of course, they all spoke Chinese, which made ordering easier.

Or at least, mostly easier.

On another occasion (which I’m still a bit traumatised by) someone said we were going to get chicken. Fair enough, I thought. A dish turned up in a big bowl with loads of sauce and vegetables, so it was hard at first to tell if anything was different. I ate a piece of the ‘chicken’ and I didn't like it very much at all. It was very chewy and just… not pleasant. About five minutes or so later, I picked another (bigger and much more suspicious) piece up – I was paying for this, after all – and was looking at it dubiously, when I was informed that what I was actually eating was not chicken, but Pig Intestines.

Anyone who knows me can, I’m sure, picture the expression my face at this announcement. Happily, there are no pictures. 

But… I was in China, where this kind of thing is not uncommon, and I decided that if I really wanted to call myself a traveller, I couldn’t and shouldn’t be a wuss. So to give myself credit where credit is definitely (in my opinion) due, I took a deep breath and I did actually willingly eat the bigger (and upon further examination, much more intestiney-looking) bit. Honestly, I’m not sure I've ever been braver!

The problem is, it was no less gross than the first time, and this time I actually knew what it was. My brain was alternating between screaming at me, “How dare you willingly eat pig intestine?!” and repeating “It’s just pork, It’s just pork, It’s just pork” like a mantra the whole time. It was all I could do not to hurl while I forced it down. I actually thought I was going to at one point, but luckily I didn't embarrass myself. 

Well anyway, this put me off my lunch a bit quite considerably. After that I stuck to the potato and lotus roots. Much less risky. 

I made sure to have KFC that night. Call me a heathen, but a nice, safe chicken burger sounded like a good way to restore my… culinary equilibrium, if that’s even a thing. Something like that. 

Back in the office, I continued to proofread and research and generally do internshippy things which I don’t need to describe in detail here. In fact, the only other thing I should mention in this post is how lovely my supervisor was when I approached him begging for a day off so I could go exploring.

…In BEIJING!

Next Time – China part 3: Hostels and Hiking

Vicky xx

PS. Today is my parent’s silver wedding anniversary. Congratulations Mum and Dad, I love you both so much xx

China Part 1: Food, Flights and Feeling Foreign

I promised I’d blog it, and here I am. I should mention is that it proved to be rather optimistic to fit a month’s worth of stuff into one post, or even two - I’ve split it all up (and this post is still going to be long and meandering, so I hope it’s readable). There’ll be several instalments before I wind this blog up for good at the end of the month.

So. As you might already know, I spent the last month in Chengdu, China (I got back yesterday). Chengdu is the capital city of the Sichuan province, in Western China, bordering Tibet. Originally, I was supposed to be going to Shanghai, and I was disappointed at first when it was changed to Chengdu. But as someone pointed out to me when I got there, Shanghai is, for all intents and purposes, a very western city, with lots of skyscrapers and western food. The reason a lot of people haven’t heard of Chengdu is because it’s a very liveable city, and not particularly touristy, like Beijing and the like, which means that I got to experience a lot more of real Chinese life and culture than I would if I had been to Shanghai instead. Now I’m back, I’m glad things ended up the way they did.

Who can resist a good 'I'm going travelling, look at me!' photo? Not me, apparently. 

Including the connection in Doha (I flew with Qatar Airways, who I’d recommend. They were actually very good, with lots of legroom and they served edible meals in strange abundance), it was roughly 15 hours to fly from Heathrow to Chengdu, and happily it was not at all stressful. I landed in China at about 3pm on the Tuesday afternoon. My first impressions are a bit vague… it was very humid outside (and continued to be for the rest of the month. But then, it is rainy season). Second – Chinese immigration officers are slightly frightening. Third - the toilet at the airport was just a hole in the floor, much to my dismay. And fourth - the clocks don’t change in China. So one of the first things that I noticed through my jet-lagged haze was that it got dark early. Pitch black, by 9pm, which was very weird for a while.

I got shown my apartment, in the Tongzilin area of Chengdu (where I found out that we were one of few apartments who actually had Wi-Fi. WIN!) By the time I’d been there for 6 hours or so, I’d bought a Chinese simcard (and phone, because idiot here didn’t bring the spare mobile I used in Paris with me), walked around being shown where the metro and the supermarket was (directions which I promptly forgot) nearly got run over and was given a travel card for the metro.

As a short aside, while I’m mentioning the metro - and driving, and transport generally - traffic regulations in China seem to be less 'laws' and more 'guidance'. It got pretty hairy at times, and you had to be very careful when you are crossing the road, even when there is a green man, because apparently the motorcyclists/moped people have apparently universally decided that red lights don't apply to them. Sometimes, I’m fairly sure that they’d happily travel the wrong way up the street. All the public transport is state operated: there is a metro in Chengdu, but it is very limited because it’s about as new as metros can get. There are only two lines operating so far, the youngest of which opened 2 years ago, and I think there are plans to build at least six more by 2020. To get in, though, you have to put your bags through a security scanner. It's like going to the airport every single time, which can get a bit tedious, if I'm honest. 

Anyway, back to business. After all of that, I suddenly realised that I was starving. So a few other volunteers and I went searching for somewhere to eat, and I had my first authentic Chinese meal. I’ve never felt more foreign in my entire life. At least in European countries the letters are familiar, but here, you couldn’t even make an educated guess. We pointed at a few pictures, looked blankly at the waitress who was trying vainly to help and hoped for the best (and luckily, everything turned out to be edible, so that was a win). We ended up with two types of noodles, some rice, two portions of what dumplings and some kind of soup, which you drank out of the bowl. I successfully wrestled my way around the meal with chopsticks (although the next few times I used them after that, I was a total fail, so chopsticks really were a bit hit and miss for me. I’m blaming my left handedness. Never mind the fact that thousands of Chinese people are probably left handed too), and then I discovered the delights of the ¥/£ exchange rate.

Our meal (for 5 people) came to ¥53, or roughly £5.30. A pound each. Seriously! The basic rule of thumb is that if you delete a zero from the Chinese sum, you have the equivalent in pounds. So ¥10 is £1.

And everything is cheeeeaaaaaap.

Later in the week, I took a journey on the Chengdu metro over 6 stops (roughly the distance of, say, Oxford Circus to Liverpool Street on the central line, and it cost me 34 PENCE.)  The day after that, a meal for 11 people cost £30 altogether. A 40 minute journey in a cab cost £4. I kid you not; China is an affordable place indeed - for westerners. I'm under no illusions about how different it is for someone on a Chinese salary and actually had some interesting discussions on the topic during my stay.

Anyway, after that, we went to the supermarket - Carrefour, funnily enough, but nothing like the French version. There’s a distinct lack of croissants for one thing, and the meat counter is very alarming for another. It’s all dumped – no wrapping – in a large fridge, open to the elements (and flies) and people will pick up bits of meat with their bare hands and poke and prod it for a while before deciding that actually, they don’t want it. It smelt terrible. (Needless to say, I didn’t frequent the meat counter). Also, you can buy live fish for food. They hook them out of their tanks in a net and then slam them to the ground to kill them. Charming, no? There were also turtles in similar tanks and I’m really hoping that they didn’t end up with the same fate as the fish!

Meanwhile, the yoghurt aisle had descended into something reminiscent of Romford Market, because there were a lot of people yelling about (presumably) yoghurt into microphones..

I forced myself to stay awake and be sociable that night in an effort to go to bed at a normal hour and make my body clock adjust, but I was super tired for a few days. (Someone told me that it takes a day to recover for every hour of time difference. I haven’t a clue if that’s true or not, but I’m taking that excuse and running with it). And after I did eventually go to sleep, I woke up the next morning stiff as a board. Chinese beds are hard. Like bricks. It didn’t even dip when I sat on it. Anyway, after unpacking and doing all of that kind of thing, I went to a barbecue put on by the Projects Abroad staff.

On the way there, we walked past a park, where there were loads of Chinese people playing with what looked like a large metal spinning top, and to keep it spinning they hit it with a large metal thing - it looked (and sounded!) a little bit like a whip. And there were also loads of Chinese people just dancing - like properly dancing, the waltz or some such thing - around the square to music. It was quite surreal actually. At the BBQ itself I met some of the staff and some other volunteers, and had a go at making my own dumplings (which I was terrible at), and the next day I was shown how to get to my placement (which as I mentioned, I’ll be posting about separately, for purposes of not making this blog post an epic novel).

At the weekend, I had to attend a 'cultural class' - basically a crash course in not mortally offending Chinese manners while I was there and some basic mandarin so I wasn’t completely helpless in every single situation! Unfortunately, I forgot most of it almost immediately – it was very intense. I think the problem was that the teacher tried to feed us way too much information in an hour and a half, so I didn’t have time to commit anything to memory before we moved on.

What else? (I am aware that I’m rambling but you try putting a months worth of happenings into a blog post worth reading!) We decided to have a bit of a gathering in our flat that night, and went to Carrefour to pick up a few things (including Cucumber flavoured crisps, which for the record, are vile) and saw some Tibetan monks casually doing their grocery shopping. Obviously normal – Tibetan monks need food as much as anyone else, but for some reason this struck me as seriously odd. Culture shock, I suppose. In a pleasant contrast to Paris, and home for that matter, everything opens late on the weekends here - properly late. We're talking 23:00 for Carrefour, even on Sundays (I guess, because it's an officially atheist country, although I could be wrong about that.)

Also that weekend, Noemie from my apartment was invited by a colleague to a barbecue. She took us all along, and it was an experience in and of itself.

Now, in the street, it has to be said that some Chinese people can be appallingly rude. Although you could say that of many other nationalities too. And I suppose in all fairness it should be pointed out that there is an exponential culture difference, which apparently extends to what behaviour is appropriate in public (hint: it would be completely frowned upon here). People spit - a lot - they shove, shout and pint, and for young children, everywhere is a public toilet. Seriously - their children do not wear nappies, and they have conveniently placed holes in their trousers so they can go wherever and whenever they please.  Usually on the street - sometimes you'll catch a parent holding their child over a rubbish bin instead, which is marginally better I suppose. Still, I question how they are ever potty trained.

Having said all that, at home, things are different. Their hospitality is second to none (that I've ever experienced, anyway). They mentioned it in our culture talk, but here, I saw the proof. People they invite into their homes are honoured guests. During this barbecue, we offered to help but she wouldn't hear of it, we were constantly plied with food and drink, she spotted my mozzy bites (of which, sadly, there were many) and went dashing off looking for something to put on them, and then when we left, she apologised for not looking after us properly! Anyway, we had a lovely time, played a million rounds of some game that I vaguely remember playing in Drama class at Crofton, and I tried some more authentic Chinese food.

One dish, which I did not try, was chicken feet. It turned up, and although I already knew that the Chinese weren't picky about what part of an animal they eat, I was still a bit like, Oh my god. That is literally feet. Battered feet in a bowl. I'm sure it tastes fine, or they wouldn't eat it. But I just could not bring myself to put a chicken foot in my mouth. Sorry.

Once we made our excuses and left, Noemie and I headed into the main part of Chengdu to have a look around. We started in Tianfu Square, which is a large public square overlooked by a giant statue of Chairman Mao. He has his hand in the air, supposedly waving to the people, but one of the Projects Abroad staff told me that it's a local joke that he's actually just trying to get a taxi and is having no luck haha. 

Give up, Mao! You're not going to get a cab!

Then we walked to People's Park, which is one of the most insane, crazy places I have ever been. How can I explain this? I've never seen anything like it before, and nothing I can say will really give you a decent picture of how nutty this place was, but I’ll give it a shot.

Every pathway, nook and cranny had been filled with makeshift tents, of a sort, erected very close to each other along the pathways, and in each tent people were gambling, dancing, being terrible at karaoke or singing (marginally better than the karaoke crew) and putting on performances for small crowds of people. People would go up to these singers on the stage and give them flowers, presumably plastic ones, which were conveniently placed in buckets at each corner closest to the audience. And because these tents were so close together you only had to walk about a metre in one direction or the other before the tune would change completely… Honestly, it's not something you can really make clear in words alone!

I’m not even really sure that you can tell what it’s like from that montage that I made from the videos on my phone, although on the first clip, you can clearly hear the guy who is singing in the second clip, and in the clip at the end, where people are dancing, you can definitely hear the opera woman who preceded it. Essentially, it’s big, it’s loud, it’s uniquely Chinese and it’s completely and utterly insane.

There are also several teahouses in the park (I'm really not a big fan of Chinese tea but I did have a proper Chinese tea experience before I left) and a really cute boating lake, which my brother said looks a bit like Central Park, and (here is where I show how culturally ignorant I am) loads of classically Chinese... Structures? Shelters? I don't know.  

And also, much to my bemusement, we ended up being a bit of a tourist attraction ourselves. I’ve already mentioned that Chengdu isn’t very touristy, and you don’t really see many westerners around. I was always getting stared at on the metro, and we got stopped several times in the park so that people could take photos of (or with) us.  Which is a bit strange but quite funny, really.

That pretty much sums up my first week in China. It’s a bit rambly, but actually, China is a bit rambly, so maybe that makes sense.

Next time – China part 2: Internships and Intestines

Vicky xx

Une liste: la partie finale!

Fin. Finished. End. Caput. No more. 

My time in Paris is at an end! Ten months down the line, my year abroad is drawing to a close (but is not ended just yet, for reasons I shall mention at the end of this post...). I packed up my bags and left my lovely apartment for the last time on Saturday just gone, and now I am temporarily (again, see end of this post) back in Blighty and getting all reminiscent. I tried to do a 'Paris in numbers' post, but it would have been boring, because I couldn't put an actual number on most of the things I came up with, and it would have gone something like this: "Many, many crêpes, Many more croissants, Even more carnets for the Metro..."

Which is boring. 

Instead, I've finally been through and updated my 'Paris things to do/bucket list', crossing off everything I managed to get done in my final few weeks in the French capital. 

Voilà.

1. Visit the Versailles Palace

2. Go to Notre Dame Cathedral

3. Visit Les Catacombs

4. Indulge in la cuisine, including croissants, macaroons, snails, frogs legs, seafood, and everything else French and/or Parisian. (On the seafood side of things, La Bar a Huitres is the place that I went for my birthday, and it really was delicious. There's several of them in Paris - I went to the one in Montparnasse. They've got a menu that ranges from massive seafood platters costing a few hundreds of euros, to a nice fixed menu for 44 euros, which was much better for my poor student budget)

5. Go to see the Pantheon

6. Spend time in La Jardin du Luxembourg

The next three I didn't do, and I always knew I wouldn't actually be able to do them this year - the first and second because I'm elsewhere at the time they happen; the third because I spent it at home. But I'm keeping them on my list because they're three things which really ought to be done in Paris, and though I won't be doing them this year, I'll be making sure to do them at some point!

7. View the Bastille Day Parade

8. Finale of the Tour de France

9. Spend NYE in Paris

10. Go to the Louvre and see the Mona Lisa! I have well and truly done the Louvre. I think I went there at least six times, covering pretty much every wing they've got in that place, and it's massive. To people going to the Louvre - see the Mona Lisa if you want, although she's pretty underwhelming, but make sure to do Napoleon's apartments too, in the Richelieu wing.

11. Go to Disneyland Paris. Disclaimer: I've actually been here before, so I count it as done. I wasn't going to include it on my list at all, but my "little" (he's 16) brother insisted that I include it, which was blatantly a not very subtle hint that I should take him.

12. Go to Sacré Coeur.

13. Stroll down the Champs-Élysées, and end up in the Place de la Concord

14. Rue Mouffetard - home of my favourite place to get a crêpe, Au P'tit Grec.

15. Go to the Palais Garnier

16. Visit Monet's garden at Giverny - I tried to do this, but on the metro heading to the train station realised that I would leave myself properly, PROPERLY skint if I went, which didn't seem wise.

17. Go to the top of the Eiffel Tower AND go see the Eiffel Tower at night

18. Visit at least 3 other European Countries. I did manage to visit Berlin in Germany, and I was intending to go to Brussels, but I just couldn't afford it, so sadly, this didn't going to happen.

19. Go to the Christmas Market in Strasbourg

20. Spend the day at Parc Asterix :) - another one for which I ran out of time and money!

21. Go to Bercy Shopping Village - because, really, what's Paris without some retail therapy?

22. Les Invalides

23. Moulin Rouge - It costs a fortune to actually see a show, but I've seen the outside and that will do for now!

24. Spend a few days on the South Coast and maybe in Monaco - this was another one that ended up being unrealistic.

25. La Marais and Place des Vosges

26. La Conciergerie

27. Visit St- Sulpice

28. Go to the roof at Galleries Lafayette - incidentally, I really loved the interior of this store. It's gorgeous!

29. Go the Musée de l'Orangerie

30. Go over to the Arc de Triomphe

31. Visit some other French Towns. I've been to Strasbourg (see no. 19 on the list) and also to Dijon.

32. Go for a walk along the Canal St Martin

33. Bois du Boulogne

34. See some jazz of some kind while I'm here!

35. Visit Le Château de Fontainebleau

36. Go to Musee d'Orsay

37. See an exhibition at the Grand Palais - Parisa and I went to see the Cartier exhibition back in January.

38. Go to Musee Marmottan.

39. Go to the French Open

40. Take a photo of Kilometre Zero, which is right outside Notre Dame (Km Zero is the point to which distances are measured to in Paris)

41. Find the most famous graves at Père Lachaise cemetery. (In case you're wondering, Edith Piaf and Oscar Wilde are just two of several famous names buried there)

42. Parc des Buttes Chaumont

43. Visit La Sainte-Chapelle

44. Browse the shelves at the bookshop, Shakespeare and Co

30 out of 44 things done. Not bad, even if I do say so myself. I'll be adding everything I didn't do to my mainstream bucket list, which I keep in the back of my journal. I'll cross everything off of it at some point, be it next year or in the next ten!

The next part of my year abroad is completely un-Erasmus related and it is all down to a company called Projects Abroad - http://www.projects-abroad.co.uk/ - who offer lots of volunteering projects in countries all over the world. I remembered them all the way back from the Gap Year fair at my Sixth Form College, and now I'm finally off on my Project, having got here rather in a rather convoluted fashion.

I'm going to be working for a month in a law firm in Chengdu, China, which is super exciting, and I'm jetting off again in about a week - so watch this space!

Vicky xx