tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-378949522024-03-04T23:30:02.263-08:00Nowhere to go but everywhereIn 2006, I flew from West to East. Now I'm headed homewards. By bicycle. On veggie power. Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17198921079835614264noreply@blogger.comBlogger365125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-16830789307512356222013-03-13T09:21:00.001-07:002013-03-13T09:21:48.614-07:00Goodbye MiD, Hello 3RR<p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">Note: this has already been published (with pictures!) on the <a href="http://threeruleride.com/2013/02/goodbye-mid-hello-3rr/">new site</a>, but in case you missed it there:</p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"> </p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">Dear friends, family, and followers few,</p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">I've decided to put an end to Mike in Daegu. It's been a nice six+ years (!), but I've now been out of Daegu for almost six months and have already embarked on the next phase of my life. From now on, you can find my writings and photos at <a href="http://www.threeruleride.com">http://www.threeruleride.com</a>. The content will still mostly deal with my exploits in fauxboing around the world by bicycle, but will hopefully incorporate more of the environmental themes that occupy so much of my thinking and underlie just about all of my decisions.</p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">Read below for an introduction to my new project. I'd be honored if you'd continue to follow me. Here are a few ways.</p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"><br /> <a href="http://threeruleride.com/feed/">Follow via RSS</a><br /> </p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"><br /> <a href="http://facebook.com/threeruleride">Like on FB</a><br /><br/><br /> </p><br /><p><br /> <strong>___________________________________________________________________________</strong>_______________________________________________<img src="file:///D|/Pictures/2012-11-09%20Taiwan/Mike/2012-11-31%20to%20Pingdong/No%20Trace.JPG" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 83px; MARGIN-LEFT: auto; MARGIN-RIGHT: auto" height="83" alt="No Trace.JPG" width="600"/><br /> </p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"> </p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; TEXT-INDENT: -0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt 21pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1"><br /> <strong><br /> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 24px"><br /> <strong>"Leave nothing but footprints. Take nothing but pictures."</strong><br /> </span><br /> </strong><br /> </p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; TEXT-INDENT: -0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt 21pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1">- Maobitou, Hengchun, Taiwan, 2012.11.31</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"> </p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">Among many signs posted around Maobitou National Park at the southern tip of Taiwan, one in particular stood out to me. It urges visitors to be wary not of the damage that might be done to them by strong and capricious winds, jagged rocks, and relentless waves, but of the damage they themselves might do to the mighty land- and sea-scape. The park is one of only a handful of places in Taiwan where, without moving an inch, a patient observer could watch the sun rise from beneath one horizon and set behind another. No wonder the government has designated it a site worthy of preservation.</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">A noble goal, but in my eyes, not a particularly lofty one; for while it's hard to find fault with what the sign says, I can't help but feel a hint of dissatisfaction about what it leaves out. The sign's words imply two requests: 1) carry your trash to the nearby disposal bins, and 2) don't steal any rocks. Perhaps an effective recipe for keeping Maobitou's one square kilometer in decent shape, but what does it mean for the rest of the island?</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">After all, the story doesn't end when the trash makes it into the bin. Every ounce of it - including the hot dog wrappers, the water bottles, and all the rest of the refuse accompanying the concessions and souvenirs for sale down below - has to be taken away. To somewhere <em>else</em>. Somewhere, presumably, not as important, beautiful, or worthy of preservation as Maobitou. If there is one thing that the last eight thousand kilometers of bicycling has taught me, though, it's that beauty exists everywhere where nature is intact. Expansive plains, tangled forests, imposing mountains, twisting coastlines, humble villages: all of them can inspire draw-jopping awe, can bring a sufficiently sensitive soul to tears. To be honest, the hours I spent that day looking out from Maobitou's crowded viewpoints, mere meters from the hubbub of concession stands, were among the least satisfying of that day. I preferred coasting down the switchbacks from Dongyuan to the sea, watching monkeys flee into the thick jungle near Eluanbi, and soaking in the sun and humid ocean air over a dozen glorious kilometers of uninterrupted scrubland.</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"><br /> <img src="file:///D|/Pictures/2012-11-09%20Taiwan/Mike/2012-11-30%20to%20Maobitou/2012-11-30%20to%20Maobitou%20010.JPG" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 336px; MARGIN-LEFT: auto; MARGIN-RIGHT: auto" height="336" alt="2012-11-30 to Maobitou 010.JPG" width="600"/><br /> </p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"> </p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">Sign or no sign, I would never dream of throwing my trash into one of these places, of ruining their pristine beauty. None of them qualify, in my mind, as an "else" into which I'd be willing to discard my candy wrappers or soda cans. Actually, I can't think of <em>anywhere</em> that would qualify as such an "else," except for areas that have <em>already</em> been despoiled. By us. Forests razed, holes dug, trash tossed. The protection of Maobitou - or rather, protection of the kind the sign requests - unquestionably leads to the destruction of other places. Places that were at one point no less beautiful; places which were, in all likelihood, more spiritually or materially significant to their original inhabitants (be they plant, animal, or human) than Maobitou is to the hundreds or thousands of tourists who pass through it daily.</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"><br /> <img src="file:///D|/Pictures/2012-11-09%20Taiwan/Mike/2012-11-30%20to%20Maobitou/2012-11-30%20to%20Maobitou%20011.JPG" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 336px; MARGIN-LEFT: auto; MARGIN-RIGHT: auto" height="336" alt="2012-11-30 to Maobitou 011.JPG" width="600"/><br /> </p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"> </p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">This is exactly what I do not want my travels to amount to, this giving with one hand and taking with the other. After all, is it not a sort of love that impels one to travel? A love for new sights, sounds, tastes, encounters, experiences? And does love not entail a desire for the protection and even proliferation of the things loved? I feel that I cannot honestly say I love any one part of the Earth if I knowingly engage in behavior that ruins any other part.</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">For this reason, I have decided to do my best to adopt three rules while I travel:</p><br /><p style="TEXT-INDENT: -0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt 57pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1">o 1) No gas - In other words, do it all via bicycle.</p><br /><p style="TEXT-INDENT: -0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt 57pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1">o 2) No meat - or other animal products.</p><br /><p style="TEXT-INDENT: -0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt 57pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1">o 3) No trash - not even recyclables.</p><br /><p style="TEXT-INDENT: -0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt 57pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1"> </p><br /><p style="TEXT-INDENT: -0.25in; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt 57pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1"> </p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt 57pt; mso-add-space: auto"> </p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-add-space: auto">It's possible that these rules don't seem like anything special. I think just about everybody can sympathize with my aversion to trash, and I believe most people are at least somewhat aware of the environmental effects of consuming meat and using fossil fuels. Many people make an effort to follow similar rules even when they're not on the road. Indeed, I've been doing my best to live up to them for years. So, why should this change just because I'm on vacation? I don't want to destroy my hosts' homes any more than I would want to destroy my neighbors', or my own. And aren't guests supposed to be on their best behavior? While I hope my trip gives me an increased sense of freedom, I don't want to use it as an excuse to take liberties with the well-being of others.</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-add-space: auto">The number of rules is aslo admittedly arbitrary, since there are plenty of other things I could (and do) do to make my life as Earth-friendly as possible, such as forego purchasing anything new, or attempt to eat local. Further, the rules are really more aspiration than absolute. I broke rule one on day "T minus 1" when I took the boat from Korea to China; I've broken rule two many a time, generally either by accident or after tiring of struggling against a hosts' indomitable generosity; rule three, too, often falls victim to necessity, such as when water runs short or when kind strangers load me down with tea, candy, and trinkets. What's important is keeping my environmental ideals in mind at all times and maintaining a spirit of resolution: to make an honest effort to learn from each failure, to anticipate and prevent the next one.</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">I also aim to contribute positively where possible. Visits to organic farms; volunteering of other sorts; constant preaching of the Green Gospel through words both spoken and written; and of course; by toting a ridiculous flag.</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">I'm aware that this may seem like a bit of a buzzkill. Isn't the point of traveling to have fun? Why place limits on the kinds of things you will see, buy, or do? Fortunately, I don't usually experience it that way. The more I attempt to live a life in line with the values I profess, the more respect and encouragement I get from others, and the more I feel connected to them. The longer I spend trying to find peanuts not sold in a plastic bag, the more I see of the local markets. The harder I try not to buy bottles of water from 7-11, the more I wind up stopping at police stations and getting offered not only a refill but also a cool place to sit, perhaps a chance to wash up, and most importantly, a whole 'nother chance to tell my story to a group of interested listeners. Difficult goals often necessitate taking one's time and asking for help, both of which are excellent ways of getting to know people and places.</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">And, of course, if I weren't up for a bit of a challenge, I wouldn't have decided to cycle around the world in the first place.</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">Please wish me luck.</p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt">More importantly, join me, however you can.</p><br /><p><br /> <img src="file:///D|/Pictures/2012-11-09%20Taiwan/Mike/2012-11-30%20to%20Maobitou/2012-11-30%20to%20Maobitou%20031.JPG" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 336px; MARGIN-LEFT: auto; MARGIN-RIGHT: auto" height="336" alt="2012-11-30 to Maobitou 031.JPG" width="600"/><br /> </p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"><br /> <br style="mso-special-character: line-break"/><br /><br style="mso-special-character: line-break"/><br /> </p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"> </p>Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-48912800513912452292013-01-20T08:09:00.000-08:002013-01-20T08:09:03.744-08:00Tai-winding down<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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After a week of chilling up North, a week of chilling down South, and a week of chilling on the Farm, Mingyu and I decided we'd like to give the mountains of Taiwan a chance to kick our asses. The plan: Taipei -> Sun Moon Lake, supposedly one of Taiwan's top sights -> Wuling Pass, the highest road in Taiwan and South East Asia at 3,250 meters -> Taroko Gorge, another top sight -> Hualian coastal highway, to which I'd already been -> back home. One week, 600km, a total altitude gain (and loss) of 12000m. Such was the plan. </div>
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Day 1: Cycle all day, some 100km, stopping only for lunch and dinner buffets. In the evening, we went searching for a temple, only to run into a realtor with an unoccupied fixer-upper that he let us sleep in. Better yet, he and his wife treated us to a trip to a hot spring sauna - just what one's posterior needs after eight-plus hours on the saddle.</div>
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The next morning, his daughter took us out for breakfast. Turns out the guy was running for some sort of office. He's got my vote, for sure. </div>
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Day two: more endless riding, though not quite as much as the day before since the sauna had sapped all our energy. In the evening we pulled up at a fire station to ask if there was a temple nearby. Eventually, one officer coughed up that they had an empty guest room that we could stay in. </div>
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After a bit of chatting about our journey and our planned route, "Sean" and "Sam," the self-proclaimed "friendliest firefighters" in Taiwan, popped the question..."So, do you wanna try on the suits or what?"</div>
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"Well...I mean...no...I couldn't...that wouldn't be right...I mean...taxpayer money and all...you sure it's ok?...really? HELL YEAH! Gimme a weapon too!"</div>
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They even treated us to a six-pack of beer and some deep-fried shrimp and anchovies. Not to mention noodles the next morning and a trinket to remember them by.</div>
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Mingyu bought a new camera body when he got to Taiwan. Lucky for me, it wasn't compatible with his old lens. I bought both of them off him at a very nice discount. In fact, all I had to do was promise to pay him via bank transfer. Can you say...SUCKER!!!</div>
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The following day, up and over a minimountain on the way to Sun Moon Lake. See if you can tell which pictures are mine and which are Mingyu's. </div>
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OK, nevermind about that guessing thing.</div>
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We reached the lake, at 762m altitude, just before sunset on day 3. Mingyu's reaction: "The one in Huangzhou was better." My reaction: "Jesus my thighs hurt."</div>
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Off one of the main roads, we found two wooden gazebos to protect our tents from the rain. We also found this utility closet, where we stashed our stuff so we could ride around the lake unencumbered. This was actually Mingyu's idea - I think my vagabonding is wearing off on him. </div>
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I thought the lake would be in some remote national park area. Nope. Turns out there were several little towns around its perimeter, complete with night markets and street food. Mercifully, no stinky tofu. </div>
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To my left: fried taro cakes and a shiitake dumpling. To my right: peanuts and a few not-quite-apples. straight ahead: boardwalk. </div>
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Camping. </div>
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I retired to my tent to read, Mingyu laid outside looking up at the stars and waited for the clouds to disperse. </div>
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An hour later, he got the shot that he wanted. This is while I'll never be the photographer that he is. </div>
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The part of me obsessed with measuring and logging wanted to ride the 30km loop around the lake, but trees obscured the views for most of it, so we opted for a stroll instead. Down off one of the trails we played around on some abandoned boats. </div>
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The forest was full of all these little ferns. This one looks to me like a boxer getting ready to pummel someone with all twenty-or-so fists. </div>
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That afternoon, we coasted back down into the town of Puli, wandered around town for an hour looking for a buffet (probably burning more calories in the process than we took in at the meal), then headed for the hills where we saw this temple sitting.</div>
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Except...surprise! It was still under construction. Beggars can't be choosers. Actually we weren't the only ones sleeping there - six or seven members of the construction crew were also living at the temple, sleeping in tents or on the floor. </div>
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On the way home the next day, I stopped at an intersection to look at a map. Mingyu zipped by me, apparently looking for a shadier place to take a break. One minute later, I looked up and he was gone. I rode on for about twenty minutes, cursing him for being so finicky about the dust and for being such a jerk as to not even wait for me to catch up. Then I passed a bridge, asked the cop on duty if Mingyu had passed by, and figured out that I was actually the one in front. I then did what any good friend would do: proceeded onward to the nearest buffet and stopped for lunch. </div>
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When Mingyu still didn't show up, I decided the next best thing was to head to the train station. I emailed Mingyu telling him where I was (he didn't have a phone), and planned to just chill in the lobby, until a cop noticed me limping and told me there was a doctor's office. </div>
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They day before I had taken a spill while crossing some wet, moldy, slimy, slippery cement tiles. Luckily I had only been riding at about 1 km/h, but even so my left knee and knee-pit swelled up pretty big. I could hardly even bend the knee. Double-luckily, all 20km of the ride that afternoon were downhill.</div>
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So, I chilled with the nurse (named "Tako. She gave an sigh of non-amusement when I mentioned the Mexican food..) for a few hours, relating the story of Mingyu's betrayal and the five months of bicycle travel leading up to it. She went back and forth between talking to me and calling her friends to say "Hey, there's a foreigner here and he's speaking Chinese!" and uploading pictures of me to Facebook. </div>
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Next door were some military officers who popped by to chat. My inner mooch vibrations struck a cord (chord?) with one, who went to the cafeteria to bring me back a dinnerbox. No meat, no trash! nice!</div>
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After five hours of waiting unsuccessfully for Mingyu, I packed up and headed out. Refused by one temple and one police station, I finally found this tiny temple and set up camp out back. </div>
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The next day, I woke up at 6AM to a crowd of middle-aged women learning to dance to "Oppa Gangnam Style." Unfortunately, my knee was still sore. Not joining their lesson probably qualifies as my biggest regret of this trip. </div>
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Thanks to the early start, I had passed the 100km mark by early afternoon. Mingyu and I had originally planned to arrive in Taipei the following night, but I didn't particularly feel like stopping. Weird how stopping to find a place to sleep feels like more of a nuisance than riding an extra 70 or so kilometers.</div>
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As night fell, the city lit up and the traffic got heavier. What had been a pretty serene, even boring afternoon ride through the countryside suddenly turned into a 3.5-hour prolonged adrenaline rush. Yeahhhh for chemicals!</div>
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Only once I was close enough to recognize the road home did I stop to take a couple of photos. </div>
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I finally got home at about 11:30, only to find Mingyu already home and alseep on the floor. Having bought a beer for each of us. Having already drank his. And having also drank half of mine. Total distance covered: nearly 200km! And at the end, I wasn't even wiped out! </div>
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The next night: a nice home-cooked meal with the family. Here again are Awi and Uncle. There is no end to their kindness. </div>
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Case in point: Uncle broke out the 25-year old ginseng liquor for Mingyu's goodbye dinner. 120-proof and full of herbal goodness. </div>
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"Brother," whose name I still haven't mastered.</div>
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That evening, we packed Mingyu and Hwa-in's bicycles into big boxes, which we took the next morning to the airport. After some minor complications, both were on their way - Hwa-in to a tiny mountain town in South Korea, temperature -25C (-13F); Mingyu to Kuala Lumpur, temperature 35C (95F). I'm not sure who I'd rather be. Oh wait, me! Here in Taiwan it was an oh-so-perfect 25C (77F) today. </div>
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Nonetheless, the visa clock is ticking. The travel itch is also in need of scratching - this feels like about the tenth time I've visited Taipei. I know the city well enough that on the bus back from the airport, I overheard the name (in Chinese!) of one of the subway stations, pulled up a map in my head, realized that the station was between my home and the bus's final destination, popped off the bus early, hopped on the metro, and saved myself a good hour of public transit. I also know which markets are open at night, which ones are open in the morning, where to find humus, where to get my bike fixed...this can only mean one thing: it's time to get disoriented again.</div>
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So, back to China it is! ETA 1-Week. Next up: Guangdong (Canton) province, Hong Kong, Zuhai, Macao...with people to mooch off of already lined up. Woohoo! </div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-69264468560887908022013-01-14T05:42:00.000-08:002013-01-17T19:17:46.703-08:00Meet "Wanderer" (and it isn't me)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As I hope the previous post showed, we met a whole host of interesting people at Nan'ao. AJ, the boss, who retired from his computer engineering job to start the farm. Sam, his son, who quickly took interest and before the age of twenty has already completed a permaculture design course (one of my goals for this trip) and is now doing various cultivation experiments on his own land. You Hsin and Hwang Yu, who gave up lucrative but unsatisfying careers in sales and chemistry, respectively, to be closer to the land and their loved ones. Michelle, who out of concern about peak oil and environmental justice issues, decided to follow her parents into farming. Everyone I met, whether long-term worker or short-term volunteer like myself, had story that I found moving and an outlook that I could identify with. Rarely do I feel so in-tune with one person, let alone ten or fifteen. <br />
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Much like at Sadhana, the atmosphere was always a joyous one, filled with banter, laughter, and music. Nonetheless, in any group of a sufficient size, there's bound to be someone that stands a little aloof. In many cases I feel it's me, but this time, it wasn't. </div>
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Meet Jin-Hong, English name "Wanderer." I didn't really take much notice of him during the first few days. First off, he lived off on his own, rather than at the farmhouse or at the volunteer dorm. Second, only appeared irregularly, while many of the other staff showed up for every meal. Third, he rarely spoke; or rather, in fairer terms, he was simply only about one-fifth as raucous as the rest of us. It wasn't until Michelle's agricultural English lesson, where everyone present introduced themselves and gave a brief explanation of how they became interested in farming, that I got to hear his story. </div>
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The same 1000km "Huandao" trip around the country that I recently finished on my bike, he did on foot. It took him ninety-three days. Behind him he pulled a cart with his few possessions and a trash can, into which he deposited all the of litter he came across on his way, dumping it off at 7-11s or police stations or wherever else he could. During that time, he often asked himself "What does it mean to be an environmentalist?" and came to the conclusion that, for him, it meant living the simple life. </div>
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Needless to say, Mingyu and I were both intrigued. I have been trying, in the words of Thoreau, to "simplify, simplify" for years now. Perhaps even a decade. I gave up TV. I gave up soda and juice. I gave up meat. I gave up animal products*. I gave up cars. I gave up new clothes. I gave up my apartment, my job, and about 75% of my stuff. I'm trying to give up plastic, trash, beer, anything I don't need. Recently I heard that someone named Diogenes once said to Alexander the Great, "I am far richer than you, my lord, for I have disdained more than you will ever own."** I nodded my head in assent.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">* Then took some back, then gave them up again, and am still vacillating.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">** Though extensive googling hasn't provided any confirmation. </span></div>
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Though enviably without the tinge of martyrdom that (I feel) seems to color so many of my actions and so much of my writing, Mingyu leads a similar lifestyle. Soap rather than shampoo, cold water showers, laundry by hand even when a machine is available, the fewer gadgets the better, no sense of shame about sleeping on floors or crapping in the woods. Eventually, once he returns to Korea, he wants to build his own house and design everything in it, from the furniture to the appliances to the pottery. </div>
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Thus, the three of us more or less hit it off immediately. After chatting for a while after the lesson, Wanderer agreed to let us check out his house and introduce us to his "simple life." </div>
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The next morning, Wanderer led us on a ten-minute bicycle ride from the farm volunteer dorm to the place he's currently renting. Despite being over a hundred years old and pretty much totally barren, it gave off a sense of beauty and comfort that's hard to find elsewhere.</div>
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Upon entering, the first thing you see is the living room. No furniture to speak of, just a floor entirely covered with rocks and pebbles (which he gathered from the beach nearby), leading seamlessly to a fireplace in the center, and some driftwood to sit on. This is where he does almost all his cooking. No gas and no electricity necessary, only straw from his friends' farms and downed branches from the forest immediately behind his house. </div>
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The bedroom. He put his bed together out of bamboo and straw. For a pillow, he uses: more straw. <br />
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In addition to learning farming, he's been practicing his woodworking skills. His kitchen boasted a handmade cabinet made from salvaged wood, several handwoven baskets, necklaces made out of coconut fibers, and a bunch of "silverware." </div>
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A bag made out of leaves from the betel nut tree.</div>
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Even the little bit of plastic that is necessary - namely, a few wires and light switches - is thoroughly obscured, wrapped with or buried under natural materials so that it need neither be seen nor touched. </div>
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After a brief tour, we got down to business. I chopped some veggies for a salad, throwing on some bananas for flavor and texture. </div>
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In the meantime, Mingyu and our host put together a small fire to roast sweet potatoes. The night before, the three of us had bonded while discussing those terrific tubers. Whether you cook them over your own fire or buy them in a market and carry them with you to your campsite, it's easy to appreciate how cheap, tasty, healthy, and satisfying they are. </div>
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In the afternoon, the three of us and another one of Wanderer's friends talked permaculture and natural farming while using rakes, shovels, and hand-scythes to clear about fifty square meters' worth of weeds off of his driveway, leaving him space to build a tepee. Later this year Wanderer plans to walk from southeast China up to Tibet, so he's currently taking primitive skills classes to learn everything he needs to know about sheltering and feeding himself on the journey.<br />
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(Moments after this picture, the rake fell forward, passing just inches away from smashing Mingyu's $1500 camera into smithereens. Careful with those antics, boy!)<br />
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Then it was time for dinner again. "Five color soup," he called it; an ancient Chinese dish where the color of each ingredient represents one of five elements of the earth. Sounds nice but, to be honest, I don't think it'd be a bad thing if Wanderer planted a little herb garden. <br />
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Mingyu took another crack at the fire but had some trouble. Wanderer, having lived this way for six months now, got it roaring pretty quick and then built an impromptu stove out of stones. For about an hour we sat in the dark, alternating between chatting and sitting in silence, listening to the crickets and feeding the fire.<br />
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After the meal, we stuck around a little longer, singing songs to the accompaniment of chopstick-drums and imagined ukeleles. My awkward and tone-deaf contributions: Bright Eyes' "Bowl of Oranges," itself simple in composition but so wonderfully full of both sorrow and joy, and the folk song "500 miles," a sure staple of each and every American vagabond. Finally, Wanderer left us with brief mediation on gratitude. Through the simplicity he lives in he has come to a deeper sense of appreciation for even the most basic things - the stones, the wood, the fire, the smoke, the electricity that he uses so sparingly. I agreed heartily; albeit more for friends and fortune than for the basic physical elements and processes that make my (and any) life possible, several times in the past months I've found myself swept away by feelings of gratitude, all of them deeper, more potent, more meaningful than any excitement or adventure I've come across. To rephrase Dioegenes' words above: Perhaps one is rich in proportion, not to the number of things he has, but in proportion to the number of things he is truly, palpably, grateful for. <br />
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The night left me with a lot to think about. I'm often pulled back and forth between two thoughts - that I'm not doing enough, and that I'm doing far more than is required of me. Which one is it? How much is enough when it comes to environmentalism? If one frames it in terms of sacrifice, it's easy to say: that's not my duty. But if environmentalism is about love, respect, and regard for other living beings, human and nonhuman, present and future, it seems that there should be no end to what one is willing to do. Isn't that the case with a parent, a child, a sibling, a friend or sometimes even a pet? What wouldn't we give up or change about our lifestyles to save a loved one?</div>
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I'm not exactly any closer to having found the answer, but seeing Wanderer happy at home in the environment and choices he made for himself did leave me with a sense of comfort and security regarding my own efforts. For one, I was once again reminded that I'm not alone - indeed, far from it - in my quest for a kinder, happier way of living. More importantly, while I admired his way of life, I didn't quite feel jealous of it; it seemed to me that each of us has a role to play in our own way, doing whatever it is that feels right and honest and true. Cycling seems to have chosen me - or at least my mind and habits and dispositions have come together such that out of all the choices that opened up to me over the past couple years, cycling seemed to be the best one. All I can do is keep it up, hoping to share my thoughts, beliefs, and passions with everyone I meet. Hoping to intrigue, inform, inspire, just like Wanderer and so many others have done for me. </div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-75476117621541047842013-01-09T16:29:00.002-08:002013-01-09T16:29:55.957-08:00Living The Good Life at Nan'ao Natural Farm<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I knew that Mingyu was going to meet up with a Korean friend
here in Taiwan. What I didn’t know was
that she had already made plans for a farmstay at Nan’ao Natural Farm, one of
Taiwan’s best known. How it had so far eluded me
eludes me. </div>
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The long-term volunteers lived at the farmhouse up the hill,
while we short-termers stayed down at the guest lodge, just a few minutes’ walk
from the train station. The agreement:
we work from 9-12 and 3-6 in exchange for accommodation and three meals. Laughter, songs, hijinks, and memories
gratis. </div>
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Meet Sam, twenty year-old son of the owner and blooming
permaculture* prodigy. He took an
interest in farming when his father started the farm three years ago and
recently got his permaculture design certificate. In the morning he works on his own projects,
while in the afternoon he works on his father’s rice paddies. Here he’s got some sack gardens. A bamboo pipe runs down the middle and is
filled with compost and stones; water that runs into the pipe is thus smoothly
diverted all throughout the bag, delivering important decomposing nutrients and
worm casings to the plants within. These bags have lettuce, garlic, and herbs
planted at various levels, and passion fruit up top, which will eventually
climb up the ropes, cover the roof, and provide both shade and snacks. </div>
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*Digression: What’s permaculture? As the name implies, it’s an agricultural philosophy
and set of techniques intended to let the farmer farm the same land
sustainably, and thus indefinitely. PC
incorporates principles of organic agriculture – i.e. no chemical fertizlier,
pesticide, or herbicide – but is a little more holistic, insofar as it gives
more consideration to the various interactions between animals, humans, plants,
wilderness, and the landscape. </div>
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** Second digression: what’s the difference between
permaculture and natural farming? While
permaculture makes use of human ingenuity to design healthy, stable, sustainable
ecosystems, natural farming strives ultimately for a state of near “do-nothing.” No fertilizers of any kind, no pesticides or
herbicides of any kind, and no tilling of the soil. The idea, oversimplified, is that nature
knows best and our attempts to control or improve it will most likely go
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Here we are working on Sam’s “Mandala Garden,” also called a
“Keyhole Garden.” It’s a set of two
concentric donuts. The innermost
donut-hole is a “sink,” where you can dump all your compost, leaves, twigs,
whatever. Everything is in such close
proximity that chemical reactions take place quickly, breaking down everything
and sending it outwards towards all the plants on the outside. The “keyholes”
(one is visible in the upper right) give you easy access to all the
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On top of the donut, which was made from sopping-wet rice
paddy clay, we used a technique called “sheet mulching.” This is essentially a way of creating soil in
layers – compost, leaves, manure, cardboard, then fresh grass – so that you can
garden anywhere. </div>
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This guy waited patiently to nab whatever grubs we turned up while turning the soil.</div>
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In the afternoons, we “worked” in the paddies. December and January seem to be sort of "off" months; we spent most of our time cleaning rocks, sand, weeds, and broken beer bottles out of out irrigation ditches, with many a break in between for photos.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I6AAXXuORhM/UO4AOTa9VwI/AAAAAAAACyI/llp9CJEcw6o/s1600/2013-01-08+Nanao+024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I6AAXXuORhM/UO4AOTa9VwI/AAAAAAAACyI/llp9CJEcw6o/s640/2013-01-08+Nanao+024.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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You Hsin, an awesome long-term volunteer who left a job in sales to live closer to the land. Though less adept at English than some of the others, he made up for it with incredible candor. </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1yG2eft_pYY/UO4APR60S0I/AAAAAAAACyQ/iagdj8cTU30/s1600/2013-01-08+Nanao+029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1yG2eft_pYY/UO4APR60S0I/AAAAAAAACyQ/iagdj8cTU30/s640/2013-01-08+Nanao+029.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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More proof that boys and men of all cultures enjoy attacking one another with farm instruments (or whatever else is at hand).</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vNrCXUTPEis/UO4AA4kYmMI/AAAAAAAACwo/Su6uB_dOwYc/s1600/2013-01-04+Nanao+020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vNrCXUTPEis/UO4AA4kYmMI/AAAAAAAACwo/Su6uB_dOwYc/s640/2013-01-04+Nanao+020.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here’s “Yellow Fish” (a direct translation of
his Chinese name), a chemical engineer who quit his lucrative, demanding, and
relatively joyous job in order to "devote more attention to improving important
relationships and finding out what he really wants in life." He told me that he was often depressed, but
at the farm, he was all smiles, constantly joking, shouting, singing, and
having a good time. </div>
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“Little Monkey,” a long-term volunteer who decided that he
prefers farming to high school. He was
the official weed-whacker-wielder. </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-srwEtGE2-Zk/UO4AZOCmKxI/AAAAAAAACzg/p-seL_zcnok/s1600/2013-01-06+Nanao+018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-srwEtGE2-Zk/UO4AZOCmKxI/AAAAAAAACzg/p-seL_zcnok/s640/2013-01-06+Nanao+018.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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“Tom,” a butterfly photographer who came to the farm hoping
to snap some nice pictures and then decided to stay for a year because he loved
the work and the people so much. </div>
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Winky, from Guangdong (aka Canton), China, here in Taiwan
for a semester “abroad”* </div>
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*let’s not get into that debate again… </div>
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“Echo,” Winky's roommate. The farm visit was actually her idea - she wanted to visit some of the nearby aboriginal neighborhoods. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7nw0_hJ01nM/UO4AYD1-6xI/AAAAAAAACzY/8reBO-1tC-U/s1600/2013-01-05+Nanao+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7nw0_hJ01nM/UO4AYD1-6xI/AAAAAAAACzY/8reBO-1tC-U/s640/2013-01-05+Nanao+006.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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“Star,” a Taiwanese friend of the above two girls, who came along for the trip. I will be forever grateful for him for recovering my glasses after I cleverly dropped them into a waterfall.</div>
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Mingyu's friend Hwa-in. Into food, buddhism, communities, farming, aboriginals, and learning Chinese. Remind you of anyone?</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pS220KEMpKc/UO4AWQrFaZI/AAAAAAAACzI/JaoZUug5c3A/s1600/2013-01-05+Nanao+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pS220KEMpKc/UO4AWQrFaZI/AAAAAAAACzI/JaoZUug5c3A/s640/2013-01-05+Nanao+004.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Luke, a good friend from South Korea, lives quite near and
came down to spend a day working with us. I have a feeling he'll be spending lots of time at Nan'ao in the future. </div>
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This teacher came to give some volunteers a lesson on
Chinese acupuncture theory. At dinner,
we bonded over shared vegetarianhood and wound up talking about Vipassana (I’m
still working on my post about my 4<sup>th</sup>!), chakras, Rudolf Steiner,
Theosophy, and who knows what else for about two hours. </div>
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The kitchen was a constant source of chaotic joy. Out in the fields, we were often too absorbed
in our work or too physically spread out to talk much, but in the kitchen we
all swirled around one another, cooking
together, taking turns chopping, stirring, scrubbing, searching, cleaning...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KShomP2nkJfPHhY3H2ChcXJypWshHOZ7DJ9WrsUXnjo0jDVGVyW_2uk7jZcRgfqCV2HPtBAvIxlEEFuqZyL4brNLBoZfBZWPyibgqUklQUbCNk2lr2cakifL8ItaJ2JvoKUDBQ/s1600/2013-01-04+Nanao+014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KShomP2nkJfPHhY3H2ChcXJypWshHOZ7DJ9WrsUXnjo0jDVGVyW_2uk7jZcRgfqCV2HPtBAvIxlEEFuqZyL4brNLBoZfBZWPyibgqUklQUbCNk2lr2cakifL8ItaJ2JvoKUDBQ/s640/2013-01-04+Nanao+014.jpg" width="640" /></a> </div>
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A typical meal: several stir-fried veggie dishes, one egg
dish, and one meat. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-euhJ02M-3QI/UO3_4kT5qTI/AAAAAAAACvs/JzTkw1VyGlw/s1600/2013-01-02+Nanao+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-euhJ02M-3QI/UO3_4kT5qTI/AAAAAAAACvs/JzTkw1VyGlw/s640/2013-01-02+Nanao+010.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Interesting kitchen find: <span style="text-align: left;">“Meekang.”</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">Rice
hulls, dry-roasted then fermented.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">They
give off a stink kind of like Dwoenjang, Korean-style fermented soybeans, but
have a different use.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">Rather than
cooking with it directly, you submerge vegetables into all of its probiotic
glory.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">After three days you’ve got
pickles.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">Floppy yet a little crisp, with
a sort of cheesy taste.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">A bit strong for
my taste, but fantastic in a salad with rice.</span><span style="text-align: left;">
</span><span style="text-align: left;">Awesome low-cost, low-energy, low-impact, no-nonsense cooking method.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jhI4zkXWIEc/UO4AD_FBlaI/AAAAAAAACxA/nykSMPI4XmE/s1600/2013-01-05+Nanao+024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jhI4zkXWIEc/UO4AD_FBlaI/AAAAAAAACxA/nykSMPI4XmE/s640/2013-01-05+Nanao+024.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A favorite way of giving back: cooking for our hosts. Mingyu and Hwa-in and I headed to the market
to see what was available, and it turned out they had bags of Kimchi! US $30 bucks later and the three of us had
enough veggies to whip up a meal for 15 people.
Kimchi-fried rice, eggplant pancakes, mushroom pancakes, blanched
spinach, spicy bean sprout soup. </div>
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Clearly, everybody loved it.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EnZ2YRETbp4/UO4ATOHzsgI/AAAAAAAACyw/7rWnB4ZrZaM/s1600/2013-01-08+Nanao+048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EnZ2YRETbp4/UO4ATOHzsgI/AAAAAAAACyw/7rWnB4ZrZaM/s640/2013-01-08+Nanao+048.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The meal on our last night. </div>
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Every evening we had some sort of enrichment session. Mingyu presented about Heuksalim*, I whipped
up a PPT about Sadhana, other volunteers gave status updates on their projects
or reports about recent travels, and Michelle, being both completely bilingual
and highly knowledgable about permaculture, gave an excellent agricultural
English lesson. </div>
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*the organic agriculture R&D / distribution company he
worked for in South Korea</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WEm2SJmbmCc/UO4AI36U87I/AAAAAAAACxg/dlf7mpKEo7g/s1600/2013-01-06+Nanao+042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WEm2SJmbmCc/UO4AI36U87I/AAAAAAAACxg/dlf7mpKEo7g/s640/2013-01-06+Nanao+042.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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After cooking and eating lunch together, we had some
free-/down-time between about 1 and 3PM.
On this particular day, we took off to a nearby “waterfall.” That’s it in the background.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mu8Q0a4CbMg/UO4AHrEslyI/AAAAAAAACxY/T2cDITPCets/s1600/2013-01-06+Nanao+027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mu8Q0a4CbMg/UO4AHrEslyI/AAAAAAAACxY/T2cDITPCets/s640/2013-01-06+Nanao+027.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Quite brisk!</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span> </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AG5OK1wq4PQ/UO4AB4gVgVI/AAAAAAAACww/kCg7ddrqqxA/s1600/2013-01-04+Nanao+023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AG5OK1wq4PQ/UO4AB4gVgVI/AAAAAAAACww/kCg7ddrqqxA/s640/2013-01-04+Nanao+023.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNSg_XDfVKvRXge42iLHg1KjR4w2WJXI3tX3OmWvvb0tv86mVOzMnCM1fKM2luQecL9BW4ORFrYehg3QVNW1-SaAr5CR030ZcJzYhzHSc18ERIrGYtPxl-6Ad7F-7Jg99-202DBQ/s1600/2013-01-08+Nanao+031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNSg_XDfVKvRXge42iLHg1KjR4w2WJXI3tX3OmWvvb0tv86mVOzMnCM1fKM2luQecL9BW4ORFrYehg3QVNW1-SaAr5CR030ZcJzYhzHSc18ERIrGYtPxl-6Ad7F-7Jg99-202DBQ/s640/2013-01-08+Nanao+031.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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On the last morning,
I wanted to cook for everyone. In about
15 minutes I was able to cycle to the market, fill up one reusable container
with fresh, steaming-hot soy milk and another with fried peanuts, buy a bunch
of bananas, pick up some baking powder, and come back home. Then I taught the
boss man to make VEGAN BANANA PANCAKES.
Needless to say, they were a hit. </div>
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On the morning of our departure, instead of working, we had
a nice long breakfast, then sat around and sang songs together. Mingyu had taught Yellow Fish to sing one of
his favorite Korean tunes, “ <span lang="KO" style="font-family: "Malgun Gothic","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Malgun Gothic"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">꼭</span><span lang="KO"> </span><span lang="KO" style="font-family: "Malgun Gothic","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Malgun Gothic"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">껴안고</span>” (Ggok ggyeo
anggo) a song about the joys of surprising family and friends with out-of-the-blue
bear hugs. It was an appropriate parting
song. Much like Sadhana, I came hoping to learn about living close to nature and left with a whole bunch of new friends. Nothing builds bonds quite like working, eating, and playing together day-in and day-out. There wasn't a single person I didn't have an interesting conversation with, or didn't grow fond of. May you all stay happy and healthy until we meet again!</div>
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NOW: we’ve left the farm and returned to Taipei. In the morning, we’ll set out on our last
bicycle escapade together for who knows how long. On the 17<sup>th</sup>, Hwa-in will fly back
to Korea, Mingyu will be off to Malaysia, and I’ll be left here in Taiwan to
make some gear changes, revamp my website (!), and fiddle around with the DSLR
and that Mingyu sold me on the cheap.
Until then, the plan is to ride from Taipei to Sun Moon Lake (one of
Taiwan’s most scenic spots), then up and over Wuling (at over 4000m, the
highest mountain in SE Asia), then down through Taroko Gorge national park, and
back home. Six days, six hundred
kilometers, and over ten thousand meters of altitude gain. Due to the intensity of the upcoming couple
days, we’ve dropped all expendable gear.
For me that means about sixty percent of it! No computer, no extra clothes, no superfluous
toiletries, no repair gear beyond the absolute basics. Just my tent, sleeping bag, camera and bunch
of longan muffins from the family.*</div>
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*Did you know that I can make inter-lingual puns between
Engilsh and Chinese now?! Check this out
– “muffin” sounds a lot like “ma1 fen3,” the Chinese word for “horse
manure.” Better yet, the family
understood my joke! </div>
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ETD: 8 hours! Wish me
luck! </div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-11336279519846642112013-01-04T22:32:00.000-08:002013-01-04T22:32:00.351-08:00More Taiwanese Treats, Part Two<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Ready to gain a few pounds vicariously?</div>
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Fried broad beans in several different flavors, including curry. <br />
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Auntie working on some more pan bread. I asked her if we could make it together, but apparently with all the waiting it takes about five hours. <br />
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It comes out shaped like Biscotti, but it's nice and soft and chewy. <br />
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Homemade stir-fry with celery, onions, peppers, "dried tofu," and squid.<br />
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Auntie's sister brought over a pita filled with raw veggies and hummus. I thought I'd have to wait until Turkey for one of these.<br />
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Marinated tofu skins. Taste kind of like BBQ ribs. "Kind of." <br />
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Chocolate-coated sunflower seeds.<br />
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At long last, a new street-food: julienned and then deep-fried taro (left) and sweet potato cakes. The perfect warm, crunchy, chewy, fatty, spicy or salty (depending on which sauce you slather on snack to munch on while walking along the boardwalk.<br />
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Another homemade meal. Celery and oyster soup, snap pea and button mushroom stir-fry, and sauteed purple greens. I'm betting there's another dish hidden behind the hot pot, but I don't recall.<br />
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Rice, three veggies, and one fried thing for $1.50 or so. <br />
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Hotpot.<br />
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Hotpot places generally have a little buffet where you can make up your own dipping sauce. Sesame powder, slices of green onion, chili flakes and oil. Oil and fat and spice, ooh yeah.<br />
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Hot pot, again! This one is Schezuan style. Nowhere near as spicy as real Chinese stuff.<br />
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Tim the artist was too busy painting to enjoy the coconuts that dropped down onto his driveway. Luke and I, on the other hand, needed something to do in between rounds of tossing the frisbee. I<br />
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In the city, we found a bus stop called "fruit street." The green things on the left are some kind of cross between an apple and a jujube. The red ones on the right are wax apples, all light and watery and crisp, something like what celery would be if it were sweeter and not so stringy. <br />
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Taidong is also known for its "Shijias," which I've heard called Custard Apples and Buddha's Head fruits. Beneathy the warty surface is a big clump of ice-creamy stuff. These cost about $4 a piece in Taipei, but only $1.50 per pound down in Taidong. Unfortunately, none of these were ready to eat! We bought a whole box only to find that all of the fruits were rock-hard. Still waiting for them to soften up so we can chow down. <br />
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There were only two restaurants near Tim's place, so over the four days we had a chance to visit them both. This was the Vietnamese one, where for about $3 each we got a six-course meal. Here's the appetizer: fresh spring rolls, with shrimp for the omnivores and dried tofu for me.<br />
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Noodle salad.</div>
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The other place was Italian, run by a Sardinian named Michele. Not only did I get to break out my extremely rusty Italian, but I got to have some real authentic stuff. We ordered one of everything on the menu - tomato and eggplant sauce, pesto sauce, oil, chili, and garlic sauce, and vegetarian carbonara. <br />
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In order to savor the pasta we ate it "rotino by rotino," i.e. spearing a single piece of pasta from one plate before moving clockwise to the next one. It took the five of us at least half an hour to finish it all. What with all the buffets and street foods, I had almost forgotten the pleasure of slow food. </div>
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It wouldn't be Italian in Taiwan without some slightly funky Tiramisu for dessert. This meal was my end-of-the-year splurge, and it cost me about $10.50.</div>
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In 2010 and 2011 I really deepened my understanding and appreciation of Korean cuisine, exploring every nook and cranny of Daegu in search of local, organic, veggie fare, and even visiting farms and farmers to learn where it all comes from. March and April took me first to Taiwan and then to Japan, I bid adieu to Korean cuisine throughout the late spring and early summer. By September I was getting used to menus written entirely in Chinese characters, only to find myself mostly lost again when I landed in Taiwan in November. Now it's a new year and within another month or so I'll be wrapping up my voyages in Northeast Asia and heading South-Southwest. I can only wonder what wonders 2013 will bring. Stay tuned!</div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-48146543499994099592013-01-02T06:56:00.000-08:002013-01-02T06:56:24.585-08:00Takin' It Easy in Taiwan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In which I am reunited with my official photographer/ukelelist/korean conversation partner/(what exactly do I bring to this friendship?)/ fellow cycle maniac MINGYULEE and we resume our hijinks. </div>
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Ah, how distant those memories from over four months and six thousand kilometers ago! Me and Mingyulee, cycling through Northern China, sweating our arses off, working the kinks out of our bikes and our gear, counting down the kilometers to Beijing. In between sucking in daily facefulls of dust we scaled the Great Wall, visited several royal palaces, camped in unspeakable spots, and downed more Tsingtao's than I'd like to admit. We went our separate ways at the end of October, keeping in touch mostly through blog comments and occasional emails. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-49VNmgIxm9Y/UOQ2txmBiXI/AAAAAAAACoI/gw4xKL6fPds/s1600/2012-12-27+Luodong+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-49VNmgIxm9Y/UOQ2txmBiXI/AAAAAAAACoI/gw4xKL6fPds/s640/2012-12-27+Luodong+008.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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That is, until a few weeks ago when Mingyu hopped the same boat I had and showed up in this little slice of paradise. Most Korean bicyclists looking to go around the world skip Taiwan, since it's not easy to return to mainland China after a visit. Mingyu on the other hand came all this way for no other reason than to chill with me. I felt I had better offer him some hospitality. </div>
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Welcome to the home of "Uncle" and "Auntie." Uncle is my mom's neighbor's younger brother and has now hosted me three times in Taipei. I cannot comprehend how good they are to me. They listen attentively to my crap Chinese, and help me refine it. They tell me what time they expect me to come upstairs for breakfast. They cook me dinners and break out the fine wine (which is so strong that we only drink it in thimblefulls). Their son takes me to the night market, buys me food, and doesn't force me to eat stinky tofu or duck blood. I ask to borrow scissors so I want to cut my reflector vest into thin strips to save weight, and they go out and buy me a new lightweight suspender-style one. I casually mention that I enjoy the occasional guava and Uncle is off on his scooter to buy me a bag. Of organic ones. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HBEKku0m9Qc/UOQ2i48UcjI/AAAAAAAACnc/vihaMhNiT-0/s1600/2012-12-25+Tsu+Chi%252C+Danshui+055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HBEKku0m9Qc/UOQ2i48UcjI/AAAAAAAACnc/vihaMhNiT-0/s640/2012-12-25+Tsu+Chi%252C+Danshui+055.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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And, as if all that weren't enough, they extend the same incredible generosity to my friend, and to a friend of my friend. They don't even mind if we sit around, drink all their beers, eat all their snacks, and play cards until the wee hours. I must have rescued one of them from certain death in a previous life. The first three characters from the left are Didi, Apple, and Culture Man. "Didi" means little brother. I use that for him even though he's the same age as me, because I don't know his name, which in turn is because his family calls him "little pig" (they call his older brother "big pig"), which is too hard for me to pronounce. "Apple" is also a pseudonym, but it's what she goes by. Even when she's not around, that's what people call her. "Appo." "Culture Man" is a poor translation of 문화인, Moon Hwa-in, Mingyu's college friend who is joining us in Taiwan. I don't know what's braver of her, coming to Taiwan to cycle or agreeing to spend a month with the two of us. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2rXw-HFLZVk/UOQ2R4OSNuI/AAAAAAAACmU/70Uf99xPPdc/s1600/2012-12-24+KTV%252C+Shilin+014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2rXw-HFLZVk/UOQ2R4OSNuI/AAAAAAAACmU/70Uf99xPPdc/s640/2012-12-24+KTV%252C+Shilin+014.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Auntie even invited us to join her, her sister, and a friend for a rousing six-hour round of Monday Morning Karaoke. Of course, they didn't want to hear us screaming our rebellious punk music, so they got us a separate room. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aDJsMPvBtJM/UOQ2WDAUr_I/AAAAAAAACmk/J0DFvV3fd1E/s1600/2012-12-24+KTV%252C+Shilin+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aDJsMPvBtJM/UOQ2WDAUr_I/AAAAAAAACmk/J0DFvV3fd1E/s640/2012-12-24+KTV%252C+Shilin+006.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Nor was this any normal Karaoke experience. The place even had a buffet! All sorts of cakes, coffees, sodas, and even some proper food. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rfunCnx0pMg/UOQ2Yo_wK4I/AAAAAAAACms/fN1_-f7V9e8/s1600/2012-12-24+KTV%252C+Shilin+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rfunCnx0pMg/UOQ2Yo_wK4I/AAAAAAAACms/fN1_-f7V9e8/s640/2012-12-24+KTV%252C+Shilin+010.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sing a song, eat some tofu. Sing a song, eat some cabbage. Sing a song, eat some waffle fries. Sing a song, eat some noodles. Sing a song, eat some...who knows what those little things were. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NPfI-CGqSRQ/UOQ2URCV9aI/AAAAAAAACmc/_nkk15TR7MM/s1600/2012-12-24+KTV%252C+Shilin+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NPfI-CGqSRQ/UOQ2URCV9aI/AAAAAAAACmc/_nkk15TR7MM/s640/2012-12-24+KTV%252C+Shilin+008.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Impossible not to play with your food in such a situation.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_wokiSiWSk/UOQ2OlrwJ8I/AAAAAAAACmM/h8PGAOnQvek/s1600/2012-12-23+Beitou+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_wokiSiWSk/UOQ2OlrwJ8I/AAAAAAAACmM/h8PGAOnQvek/s640/2012-12-23+Beitou+008.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We also enjoyed some quality time bumming around the Beitou morning market, enjoying spring onion pancakes, crushed peanut wraps, 6-for-$1 guavas, and other market goodies.<br />
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In the evenings, it's off to Shilin night market to have a looksie at the throngs of people "spending money they don't have to buy things they don't need to impress people they don't know."* Clothes and toys and jewelry and trinkets of all sorts. For the most part I'm immune to their charms, but I had to entertain myself while MG and HI were scoping out sunglasses. I think I found the perfect pair! If I ever have LASIK done, I'm going to get rid of my Weezer frames and grab a pair of these suckers. <br />
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*quotation courtesy of George Carlin<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IhvcVEy-sY4/UOQ2aj-BdII/AAAAAAAACm0/aWPFHXEMd8I/s1600/2012-12-24+KTV%252C+Shilin+035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IhvcVEy-sY4/UOQ2aj-BdII/AAAAAAAACm0/aWPFHXEMd8I/s640/2012-12-24+KTV%252C+Shilin+035.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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We also found a candy shop where it's possible to buy loaaaaads of wrapper-free candy. I don't often get such an opportunity, so I loaded up on chocolate-coated sunflower seeds. Totally not worth it! Overpriced and way less delicious than local desserts. Lesson learned. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RMcTgXqdt5c/UOQ2gMrI4lI/AAAAAAAACnM/c44n_6E9SK8/s1600/2012-12-25+Tsu+Chi%252C+Danshui+016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RMcTgXqdt5c/UOQ2gMrI4lI/AAAAAAAACnM/c44n_6E9SK8/s640/2012-12-25+Tsu+Chi%252C+Danshui+016.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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While walking around town, I taught MG and HI about the joys of Banyan trees. Does any tree so perfectly reflect life itself? Sloppy, messy, desperate, tangled; and yet enormous, beautiful, unfathomable. I am stopped in my tracks almost every time I see one of these trees, with its roots dropping down from twenty feet up, landing on and twirling around their own branches.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XEljo-jtSWo/UOQ2lQqTnYI/AAAAAAAACnk/RQzuIcVL16Y/s1600/2012-12-25+Tsu+Chi%252C+Danshui+036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XEljo-jtSWo/UOQ2lQqTnYI/AAAAAAAACnk/RQzuIcVL16Y/s640/2012-12-25+Tsu+Chi%252C+Danshui+036.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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An evening watching the sun set at Danshui boardwalk. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AlT2Klndo38/UOQ2oGcZo9I/AAAAAAAACn0/NdHhdu_BC_o/s1600/2012-12-26+Pong+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AlT2Klndo38/UOQ2oGcZo9I/AAAAAAAACn0/NdHhdu_BC_o/s640/2012-12-26+Pong+006.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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What to do on a slightly damp and chilly Wednesday? How about a game of pong?!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F5EbGMLX6gQ/UOQ2m9ObHvI/AAAAAAAACns/3qBFolNMOJw/s1600/2012-12-26+Pong+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F5EbGMLX6gQ/UOQ2m9ObHvI/AAAAAAAACns/3qBFolNMOJw/s640/2012-12-26+Pong+003.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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It's been seven or eight years since I was reigning president** of the WashU Table Tennis Club. But you know what? I still got it! I won't go into details about whether or not I creamed Mingyu, whether or not I bought his excuses about the loaner paddle, or whether or not I enjoyed the green onion pancakes he had to buy me. </div>
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**though not top-ranked player</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hddJWVKe1yM/UOQ2ryrUpqI/AAAAAAAACn8/LXjUj09Udy0/s1600/2012-12-27+Luodong+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hddJWVKe1yM/UOQ2ryrUpqI/AAAAAAAACn8/LXjUj09Udy0/s640/2012-12-27+Luodong+001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Next up: a trip to Luodong to visit Luke and Tanya (again). A landslide had taken out part of the road down, and the weather sucked anyway, so we decided not to bike down. We did briefly consider bringing this folding bike...until we realized that it was built for four-year olds. <br />
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A walk around Luodong's sports park. Luke and Tanya really picked a great place to live. Within a twenty-minute walk from their house, you can visit: the train station, the bus station, several parks, six vegetarian restaurants (and counting), and thriving morning and evening markets. <br />
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After a rousing round of double-disc frisbee practice, we sat down to watch a little doubles action.<br />
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Next day: Chilling in the Luodong Forestry Culture Park, or something like that. Great for aking a 30-minute walk and scoping out bugs, birds, fish, turtles, and of course plants and trees of all varieties.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-njIbFReuJE8/UOQ22QJ2EkI/AAAAAAAACok/OR4syHubYas/s1600/2012-12-28+Luodong+Forestry+Culture+Garden+024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-njIbFReuJE8/UOQ22QJ2EkI/AAAAAAAACok/OR4syHubYas/s640/2012-12-28+Luodong+Forestry+Culture+Garden+024.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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It wouldn't be Asia without the occasional "Lotus Growing in a Large Ceramic Pot"<br />
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I'll have to ask my psychiatrist why I felt compelled to take this picture.<br />
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Slowest slide ever. Seriously. I am not being ironic here! It took nearly three minutes for me to slide down all fifteen feet of this thing. Quite a bizarre little amusement they have here. <br />
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For New Year's, we went on a little trip...</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q0Gi7bsn7Ps/UOQ3A9LRqTI/AAAAAAAACo8/ovVI1zDKqeM/s1600/2012-12-29+Donghe+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q0Gi7bsn7Ps/UOQ3A9LRqTI/AAAAAAAACo8/ovVI1zDKqeM/s640/2012-12-29+Donghe+006.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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....down to the house of a friend of a friend of Luke and Tanya's. Joel lives up in the mountains near Donghe, just a bit north of Taidong. He teaches by day and paints by night. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kw1FaPIhLLM/UOQ3EQ7OkEI/AAAAAAAACpE/EkPnS_mests/s1600/2012-12-29+Donghe+014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kw1FaPIhLLM/UOQ3EQ7OkEI/AAAAAAAACpE/EkPnS_mests/s640/2012-12-29+Donghe+014.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And kindly let us pitch our tents in his ginormous driveways. We spent the days throwing the frisbee, playing board games, playing with his dogs (Winston, Mellow, Sophia, Lauren), and walking the 2 miles to and from town to get grub. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eXE7ch9ILq0/UOQ3KPmdroI/AAAAAAAACpc/xah4WcAr7k8/s1600/2012-12-30+Taidong+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eXE7ch9ILq0/UOQ3KPmdroI/AAAAAAAACpc/xah4WcAr7k8/s640/2012-12-30+Taidong+005.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here we are at a hotpot restaurant, with handmade English menu! After some deliberation, I chose the "Vegetarian Fennel Hotpot" over the "Vegetarian Pumpkin Hotpot" and was not disappointed.<br />
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Here's Mellow. Shortly after Tim adopted her, she was roaming around in the mountains and got caught in a pig trap. She was missing for five days before Tim's other dogs managed to find her. Her leg was still attached by threads, but rotting and covered with maggots, so it had to be amputated. Now Tim's working on figuring out exactly what the law is regarding these traps and perhaps trying to get them outlawed.<br />
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On New Years Day, we finally got some good weather and headed to the beach. Some frisbee for the hipster in me, some litter pick-up for the environmentalist, some lying meditation for the Buddhist, and some staring at the sea for the everyman. Waves breaking near and far, water zigzagging back to the sea in parallel little rivulets, a million perfect little rocks strewn about the beach, sand clinging in between my toes. "Just breathing is happiness.""***</div>
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***A paraphrased and poorly-remembered line from a book by Lee Tae-geun, the founder of Heuksalim (Soil Savers), the organic farming company that Mingyu worked for. </div>
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My resolutions for this year:<br />
1: continue to do my best moment-by-moment on all the eco-stuff<br />
2: be happy<br />
(in that order? I'm not sure. Resolution 3: make them compatible.)<br />
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May you all have a 2013 full of good friends, good food, good times, and goodwill. <br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-7206431013216844132012-12-27T08:35:00.001-08:002012-12-27T08:35:38.491-08:00More Taiwanese Treats<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Spotted on a tree in a tiny grove on my way to Vipassana. $100 to anyone who can identify this bad boy by the end of the post!<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aPIlaY81kdc/UNxtKTzEGnI/AAAAAAAACkE/MKkW5SL8D8s/s1600/2012-12-16+to+Kaoshiung+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aPIlaY81kdc/UNxtKTzEGnI/AAAAAAAACkE/MKkW5SL8D8s/s640/2012-12-16+to+Kaoshiung+010.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Nothing beats a papaya break on a hot day. I'm now an expert a gutting these without losing a drop of precious papaya juice or mucking up my knife. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iTyUov6nX_E/UNxtLt4bxEI/AAAAAAAACkM/61Q8r4lccWI/s1600/2012-12-16+to+Kaoshiung+014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iTyUov6nX_E/UNxtLt4bxEI/AAAAAAAACkM/61Q8r4lccWI/s640/2012-12-16+to+Kaoshiung+014.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Another fruit mystery! What the heck is in these bags?<br />
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A little sneaking around reveals that they are: rose apples! I didn't steal any from the tree...but I did pick up a few that had fallen onto the ground. Fair game, right?<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YsDLOymYwcE/UNxtNW5zw3I/AAAAAAAACkc/ca1XWTkqhq0/s1600/2012-12-18+to+Budai+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YsDLOymYwcE/UNxtNW5zw3I/AAAAAAAACkc/ca1XWTkqhq0/s640/2012-12-18+to+Budai+003.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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A normal breakfast: sweet sesame seed paste buns, savory vegetable dumplings and spring onion rolls. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T7ur40X-tAk/UNxtOF3dNKI/AAAAAAAACkk/PWhjk2lmsz8/s1600/2012-12-18+to+Budai+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T7ur40X-tAk/UNxtOF3dNKI/AAAAAAAACkk/PWhjk2lmsz8/s640/2012-12-18+to+Budai+010.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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A $1 (US) vegetable platter.<br />
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Whenever I feel the need for a quick calorie load: battered and deep fried sweet potatoes. I feel a little self-conscious being in love with such peasant food, but all I can think about when friends take me to restaurants that cost more than about $10 bucks a head is how that money could give me two or three days of blissful street eats.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C-YovTG7bPo/UNxtP4rek8I/AAAAAAAACk0/BNjMKXQkFOQ/s1600/2012-12-19+to+Fangyuan+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C-YovTG7bPo/UNxtP4rek8I/AAAAAAAACk0/BNjMKXQkFOQ/s640/2012-12-19+to+Fangyuan+009.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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"Hey boss, do you have any vegetarian food?" "No, there's no vegetarian food in this town." "Could you make me some vegetarian stir-fried noodles?" "Sure, no problem." Why don't they just say "yes" in the first place?<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PX8ZvpZHgtI/UNxtQpvwMbI/AAAAAAAACk8/XLScLQ_aLVE/s1600/2012-12-20+to+Tongxiao+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PX8ZvpZHgtI/UNxtQpvwMbI/AAAAAAAACk8/XLScLQ_aLVE/s640/2012-12-20+to+Tongxiao+008.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Buffet for 40NT ($1.33)! Insaninty! I was so engrossed in the marinated wheat gluten nugget at the bottom of the plate that I didn't see whoever snuck up to my bike and stole my speedometer. <br />
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Another day, another buffet! This one only had disposable cardboard trays, but the owner didn't mind that I used my camping pot. In fact, whenever I pull it out, most people crack a big smile and go "Ah, environmentalism!" <br />
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A normal afternoon pick-me-up. <br />
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Sign that my life is reaching new levels of simplicity: buying three-dollar serving of candied kumquats, which will provide me with little snacks for three or four days, constitutes me "splurging" on myself. I'm sure that buying these - and having them put directly into my tupperware, foregoing the plastic bag - gave me more pleasure than a new mp3 player would. <br />
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Breakfast in the woods. Fresh fruit, dried fruit, and some nuts are always on hand, but I also thought ahead the night before and bought a veggie dumpling and a red bean paste pastry. <br />
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More peasant food I can never get enough of: roast sweet potatoes. Cheap, filling, hot, sweet, creamy, and oil-free. Easy to eat, easy to get without plastic, easy to digest, easy to clean up after, easy to store for later. If only they were easier to find!<br />
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Yes, another buffet. Why not? That's bamboo on the left, boiled peanuts and peas and carrots on the right, and dried tofu with some sort of fermented black bean hidden there at top-right. <br />
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Even though I had filled up at the buffet, I wasn't going to turn down the owner's offer of this "tang yuan." My Chinese is even good enough to understand that they're sweet rice balls filled with black sesame and sugar. Warm, sticky, and chewy on the outside; rich, sweet, and crunchy on the inside. In a sweet green lentil broth. Bring on the food coma. <br />
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The answer: it's a jackfruit, perhaps the biggest fruit in the world. These suckers can weigh over 100lbs! There were about thirty jackfruit trees in this grove, some of them with ten or more fruits forming. Imagine that - half a ton of fruit from one tree. I had a little chat with the farmers, who told me that the trees were about 20 years old and that the fruit would be ready to eat in 40 days. I may have to extend my visa just so I can have a chance to chow down on a few of these. Then again, maybe I should just book it to Vietnam where they're on every street corner. Decisions, decisions...</div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-58327385490053758812012-12-26T02:05:00.003-08:002012-12-26T02:05:29.558-08:00"Huandao" Complete<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In which I ride up Taiwan's west coast, finish my circle of the island, and take my vagabonding to new heights...or perhaps new lows.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8-Ma_WRv3fU/UNpeSCJVDiI/AAAAAAAACio/ZIzecF-CMQY/s1600/leaving+zaizais.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8-Ma_WRv3fU/UNpeSCJVDiI/AAAAAAAACio/ZIzecF-CMQY/s640/leaving+zaizais.jpg" width="382" /></a></div>
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After Vipassanna the Fourth (which blew my mind, but is proving rather tough to write about), I whizzed back to my buddy Zaizai's place in Kaoshiung. Maybe it was the sunny weather, maybe it was the slight downhill slope of the road, or maybe it was my lightened heart and joy at returning to the external world; in either case, I enjoyed yet another blissful ride through the Taiwanese countryside. Riding with no tent, no computer, and only two rear panniers, I made the 75km trek in 3hrs, 25 minutes. <span style="text-align: center;">(not counting a thirty minute papaya break)</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-znEUMBcN6BQ/UNpgJMNcIAI/AAAAAAAACi8/P0WlQOd3Z9Q/s1600/2012-12-16+to+Kaoshiung+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-znEUMBcN6BQ/UNpgJMNcIAI/AAAAAAAACi8/P0WlQOd3Z9Q/s640/2012-12-16+to+Kaoshiung+012.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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After one day of lazing around at home and at the beach, where I met Taiwan's top-ranked "Skimboarder," Zaizai and I said our goodbyes. This consisted of calling one another "dumbass" and "stupid" for the umpteenth time. I think Buddha said something about it being good to retain the heart of a child. I concur. <br />
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The first part of the first day gave me some more pleasant weather and a variety of interesting road signs. For instance, the one above. Permission to go on a little linguistics digression? </div>
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Check out the characters on the top line there. First, you've got 木 (mu), a pictogram of a tree. Then you've got the ideogram (or is this one also a pictogram? hrm, a category basher!) 森 (sen), composed of one 木 on top and two on the bottom, which means forest. Third is 林 (lin), another ideogram/pictogram, this time composed of two 木's side by side. It means woods, forest, grove. So, we have a 木森林. What could this mean? Wood forest grove?</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kY0r7RNNwBc/UNpd0mYkwyI/AAAAAAAACgc/k0ocrEdc2Zw/s1600/2012-12-18+to+Budai+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kY0r7RNNwBc/UNpd0mYkwyI/AAAAAAAACgc/k0ocrEdc2Zw/s640/2012-12-18+to+Budai+006.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Another interesting, if slightly less intellectually stimulating question: what does this sign mean, and what does money coming out of that guy's ass crack (look closely!) have to do with it? I asked my family for an explanation and managed to figure out that it was some sort of loan company. <br />
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Within a few hours the winds had picked up, sapping my energy and drawing out my inner vagabond. Not that it needs any drawing out at this point. How's about a seaside nap on a bamboo bench with a shower sandal for a pillow? If that sounds like a perfect afternoon to you, too, then maybe we can be friends.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wSc4TCbtUXM/UNpeHHRGzTI/AAAAAAAAChE/fN3NsviltZ0/s1600/2012-12-19+to+Fangyuan+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wSc4TCbtUXM/UNpeHHRGzTI/AAAAAAAAChE/fN3NsviltZ0/s640/2012-12-19+to+Fangyuan+004.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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The winds blew so hard that I had to put on my normal person clothes. Of course, this cut my aerodynamicism in half, so that my already pathetic speed was reduced further, to under 10mph. <br />
As I was hoping to make the 380km to Taipei in four days, this meant I had to ride well into the night. Which meant that I had to put on my third layer, and become even more blimpish, and even slower, and...ohhhhh my lord it was a draining experience.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1UHerPH-e-0/UNpd2qE6FmI/AAAAAAAACgs/JFEuv6-tViY/s1600/2012-12-18+to+Budai+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1UHerPH-e-0/UNpd2qE6FmI/AAAAAAAACgs/JFEuv6-tViY/s640/2012-12-18+to+Budai+011.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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On the bright side, I stopped at this restaurant in the middle of nowhere. The owner (left) told me there were no veg options, but his buddy convinced him to whip up some stir-fried rice and veggie soup for me. I am pretty sure they had been indulging in some beer or some betel nut before I arrived, because the one kept dancing and the other kept screaming at me. In a friendly way. <br />
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The liked my story of having Fauxboed my way from northern China so much that they fed me for free, informed me of a campground nearby, and bid me adieu via karaoke. The accompanying music video looked like some DIY snorkeling footage. How do I get myself into such odd situations?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBFktC1l8RmQeK_01MCRlcQwROIeCdV1mVByKFX6K8LJq7MK2E1yK-0WMIMshCim0GkrkJHs7DRk4Zwx1EaPshu0cJP8MfH-tgO8sXeAl_IRBdrfMGdZqXbmosZy6ZFeC97q8FQ/s1600/2012-12-19+to+Fangyuan+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBFktC1l8RmQeK_01MCRlcQwROIeCdV1mVByKFX6K8LJq7MK2E1yK-0WMIMshCim0GkrkJHs7DRk4Zwx1EaPshu0cJP8MfH-tgO8sXeAl_IRBdrfMGdZqXbmosZy6ZFeC97q8FQ/s640/2012-12-19+to+Fangyuan+008.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Unfortunately, this campground of theirs failed to materialize, so I wound up renegade camping in the back corner of some gardens belonging to a giant taoist temple. After a noisy, windy, paranoid night, I woke up to more chilly weather, blustery winds, and a total absence of restaurants. I finished my limited provisions, which consisted of a guava and handful of raw peanuts, and hit the road again. Eventually I found this little town, where <span style="text-align: center;">I managed to scrounge up some fried sweet potatoes, chow mein, and fried broad beans. </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IalnOkSEPiU/UNpeH6wI03I/AAAAAAAAChM/91W4e8JGaWY/s1600/2012-12-19+to+Fangyuan+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IalnOkSEPiU/UNpeH6wI03I/AAAAAAAAChM/91W4e8JGaWY/s640/2012-12-19+to+Fangyuan+011.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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By now you may have noticed the conspicuous absence of landscape shots. It's because the scenery was pretty uninspiring this whole time. The mountains and rivers and banana groves from the mountain foothills had been replaced by overdeveloped wetlands, mostly standing water and roads and buildings as far as the eye could see. I must have been asleep on my bike, because I woke up to the sounds of a police car pulling me over. Provincial road 17, which is open to cyclists, had merged with highway 61, which isn't, though the on-ramp doesn't have any signs. I had missed the first exit because it was poorly labeled, had missed the second because it was totally closed, and was heading for the third when he started using his siren on me. I tried to beg clemency by telling him as much, but he was having none of it and asked to see my "passapoto," so I started the slow and laborious process of undoing my bungees, removing my backpack, and digging to the bottom of my rear right pannier. I did all of this so slugglishly that before I had even finished step one, the cop gave up, wrote my name down on a piece of paper, and crept along behind me for the next 2km until I could get off the highway. He was good-natured about the whole thing, and I managed to make out at the end that he said "I'm just protecting your safety." <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oe-7pAORk3w/UNpeJrvtQ-I/AAAAAAAAChc/YVC9pE2VtIo/s1600/2012-12-20+to+Tongxiao+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oe-7pAORk3w/UNpeJrvtQ-I/AAAAAAAAChc/YVC9pE2VtIo/s640/2012-12-20+to+Tongxiao+007.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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The day had taken all the fight out of me and I didn't have the energy to camp, so I broke down and asked the boss of the little restaurant where I stopped for dinner (veg fried rice, again...) if there were any cheap hotels around. He said I'd have to go another 10km, but then he got some idea and started scurrying around the street talking to people here and there. Eventually he popped in his car, told me to follow him, and led me to this giant Taoist temple. Apparently they have rooms!<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FtGZtRwpuIM/UNpeKRlZJwI/AAAAAAAAChk/ADrb8u92Bhs/s1600/2012-12-20+to+Tongxiao+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FtGZtRwpuIM/UNpeKRlZJwI/AAAAAAAAChk/ADrb8u92Bhs/s640/2012-12-20+to+Tongxiao+006.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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The whole place was empty, so I had the entire third floor to myself. Lights, electric sockets, blankets, a warm shower, and a water purifier. If only all hotels were so simple - I don't want to pay for TVs, beds, mini-fridges, in-room computers (ok, I wouldn't mind an internet connection), and fancy paint jobs. I'd much rather save my money for one more kg of fruit or day on the road. For me, these "Miaos" are just about perfect. The best thing? They rent out their rooms on a donation basis! I shelled out three bucks, which wound up being the only time on my 11-day circuit of Taiwan that I paid for accommodation. <br />
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The following morning, the wind died down and the skies went from grey back to blue. Everything seemed to be looking up. In particular, come lunch time I meandered into the market area and stumbled upon a vegetarian buffet that only cost 40 NTD - the same price as my lame plate of fried rice the night before. Afterwards, I bummed around the market to pick up the usual camping supplies: guavas, legumes, and some dried fruit. I even got to bask in the admiration of two lovely lady fruit vendors, who swooned over my exploits (though not enough to give me a discount). I embarked all smiles, until I looked down and noticed:<br />
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I've been hit by a smooth criminal! Sometime while I was at the buffet, someone must have snuck up to my bike and stolen my clock/odo-/speed-ometer. It's a bit of a bummer, perhaps even more so because without stealing the little plate that's attached to the bike, the little magnet that's attached to my front spoke, and the little sensor attached to my front fork, the readout unit is completely useless. So, the thief won't even be able to use or sell the thing! It's probably already in a trash can somewhere. Oh, humanity! The tragedy and the comedy! I rode for the rest of the day with a sort of phantom limb syndrome, looking down every so often to check my speed. How long will this habit will persist?<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tRqxS6PkK4s/UNpeOmE_4iI/AAAAAAAACiQ/bdnVWcELml4/s1600/2012-12-21+to+Beitou+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tRqxS6PkK4s/UNpeOmE_4iI/AAAAAAAACiQ/bdnVWcELml4/s640/2012-12-21+to+Beitou+011.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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That evening, I snuck into "West Ocen (sic) Educational Sea World," which I had previously found on a map of campsites in Taiwan. I had planned to reach this place on my second night, but due to the aformentioned wind issues, it took me a full three days to get there. I arrived after nightfall and kind of had to sneak in, but didn't feel too concerned since a) the gate was open wide enough for my bike to slip through and b) the workers at the train station tourist info center had told me that I could sleep there for free. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j9U9LnF73JE/UNrELCahkVI/AAAAAAAACjc/KKmsy5-t37Y/s1600/2012-12-21+to+Beitou+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j9U9LnF73JE/UNrELCahkVI/AAAAAAAACjc/KKmsy5-t37Y/s640/2012-12-21+to+Beitou+009.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Not only were there picnic tables and camping huts in the forest, there was a building with bathrooms and public (cold-water only) showers. A few minutes of snooping around revealed this:<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6jZxwxdbCOE/UNpeLCnsjcI/AAAAAAAAChs/uY58yklpQLA/s1600/2012-12-21+to+Beitou+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6jZxwxdbCOE/UNpeLCnsjcI/AAAAAAAAChs/uY58yklpQLA/s640/2012-12-21+to+Beitou+002.JPG" width="360" /></a></div>
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The second, third, and fourth characters say "please don't enter," but I couldn't read the first one. I know it looks a little something like the character for "chive." So, I've got plausible deniability on my side. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bWBMypJr260/UNpeL4bHF1I/AAAAAAAACh8/uzUMarZk03E/s1600/2012-12-21+to+Beitou+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bWBMypJr260/UNpeL4bHF1I/AAAAAAAACh8/uzUMarZk03E/s640/2012-12-21+to+Beitou+001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Turns out it was the janitor's storeroom! I plopped down my tarp and sleeping bag and had a grand old evening meditating and watching documentaries. Don't get me wrong, I love my tent, but why bother setting it up, taking it down, putting all my crap inside, waiting for the dew to dry off in the mornings, and trying to sleep through the wind's attempts to lift me up and fly me off to Oz?<br />
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A concrete walkway out to the beach, with shower heads mounted every here and there. Not bad. <br />
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Worried that someone might come and find me sleeping in the janitor's closet, I woke up at five, did my morning meditation, and packed up and cleared out by 6:30. After breakfast in the woods, I headed back to the exit...only to find myself locked in. It wasn't until 8:30 that the guardsman came to let me out. </div>
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My lord, this post is getting lame. I rode again the next day. All day. It was about 140km to get home, which is much further than I like to go in a day, but I didn't want to bother camping again and riding a paltry 40 or 50 the next morning. Luckily, it was a straight shot along a mostly empty road, and the weather held up. I started at 8:30, took about ninety minutes' worth of lunch and snack breaks (including one photo op at a trash incineration facility), and got back to Taipei around six, knees burning and thighs quaking. Whew!<br />
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I think I hit the mooch equivalent of a grand slam on this one. Or perhaps a triple-double? No-hitter? Perfect game? Whatever the analogy, here are the stats:<br />
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Total days elapsed: 43<br />
Days actually on the road: 11<br />
Distance traveled: 1100ish km<br />
Longest ride: 140km (first day and last day)<br />
Shortest: 75km<br />
Highest Elevation: 500ish m<br />
Camps: 4<br />
Couchsurfs: 2<br />
Friends: 3<br />
Hotels: 1<br />
Turning a stranger's pity into a free room for the evening: 1<br />
Broken rear spokes: 2<br />
Cash spent: just under $100<br />
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So, it must be about time for me to head back to China, right? WRONG! Now it's time to take a break for the holidays, then do it all again now that Mingyu and his friend Hwa-in have arrived. Hurrah!</div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17198921079835614264noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-68511166979943417492012-12-16T16:10:00.000-08:002012-12-16T16:10:24.125-08:00I'm on TV, I'm on TV! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
While I was spending ten days in Noble Silence, my virtual doppelganger - ie a bunch of electrons arranged to look and act like me* - was chattering away about the last four months of its (my?) life. What the hell am I talking about, you ask? A couple weeks ago I did a video interview with Alexa Hart, friend of a good friend and host of the internet travel show <a href="http://atlassliced.com/">Atlas Sliced</a>. She asked some great questions, many of which of forced me to rethink what my trip must look like from the outside. Having been on the road in various guises for so long, I didn't realize how thoroughly it's permeated my blood, to the point that I accept certain thing as natural that others would find totally bizarre. For instance, the goat brain incident.<br />
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I've embedded the video for your viewing ease; you can also watch it on <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFhS3oK8Qjo&feature=youtu.be">youtube </a>or on the Atlas Sliced page, "<a href="http://atlassliced.com/episode-slice-29bicycling-all-over-asia/">Episode Slice 29: Bicycling All Over Asia.</a>" Dang, it sounds like I'm really doing it when she puts it like that!<br />
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Enjoy and share. Make us both famous! Don't forget to check out the rest of the <a href="http://atlassliced.com/">Atlas Sliced</a> website afterwards. It's full of other interviews with kindred souls who have found other interesting ways to explore the world.<br />
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Thanks Alexa! May the future bring you many more wonderful interviews and hordes of fans. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Wait a minute...what am I if not a bunch of electrons clumped up into a Mike-like shape and habit patterms? Am <i>I</i> the Doppelganger? I think I may have meditated myself down a rabbit hole here. More on the fourth Vipassana coming soon...</span></div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17198921079835614264noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-63087611506399952172012-12-07T17:30:00.000-08:002012-12-07T17:30:00.589-08:00Buffet Mania<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Having traveled, lived, and eaten in so many places, it's just about impossible for me to avoid the question, "what's the best place to be a vegetarian?" Sometimes other people ask me, sometimes I ask myself. Before I was a seasoned vegetarian, I think my instinctive response would have been a little pragmatic: the the answer must depend on how many Boca products or forms of tofu are in circulation. Oh, and avocados . I might also have considered climate and geography - what plants grow well? are tropical fruits easily available? All year round? Religious factors might have come to mind: how many Buddhsits, Jains, or other vegetarians are around? I would have been less likely to consider economic ones, such as whether or not the farmers can afford or have access to the fertilizers, pesticides, and genetically modified crops that make levels of meat consumption like our own possible. I almost certainly wouldn't have given much thought to the role of culture: How much is eating meat associated with status? With masculinity? With alcohol? How homogeneous is the culture, and how far can one distance oneself from culinary norms before the culture considers you an outsider?<br />
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Taiwan has added a new variable to this list. It may be relevant only to the traveler, but as I doubt very few locals from the places I'm visiting will ever read this, I'll go ahead and mention it: how does the ordering process work? In most restaurants, you have to tell somebody what it is that you want to eat. If the restaurant doesn't have menus, or if you can't read them, you're out of luck. In this way, Korea has broken many a Western vegetarian despite the omnipresence of amazing meat-free options. Many people warned me that China would do the same to me, though thankfully I've managed to learn enough words and characters to get by. Here in Taiwan, though, there's only one thing you need to know: <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3z05tlS5SrI/UL05aJvc_SI/AAAAAAAACeA/Nt6Jugs76MA/s1600/2012-11-28+to+Dongyuan+031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3z05tlS5SrI/UL05aJvc_SI/AAAAAAAACeA/Nt6Jugs76MA/s640/2012-11-28+to+Dongyuan+031.JPG" width="358" /></a></div>
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Welcome to the zi4 zhu4 can1! Literally, "self help meals" the zi zhu can is a sort of buffet where you pick out whatever you like and pay either a flat fee, a fee based on weight, or whatever the lunchlady tells you after running everything through her own unknowable algorithm. Some are veg only, some have meat and fish, none fail to please.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HxvmHXtr2yc/UL05iMeZhSI/AAAAAAAACe0/XKk6xNkCDzk/s1600/2012-11-31+to+Pingdong+023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HxvmHXtr2yc/UL05iMeZhSI/AAAAAAAACe0/XKk6xNkCDzk/s640/2012-11-31+to+Pingdong+023.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here's a vegetarian one I stopped at in Henchung. Twenty-five types of food, from my count, from pickled this and that and lightly braised greens stuff for the health-fanatic, to deep-fried doodads for the indulgent, with a range of tastes and textures in between. What did I pick? <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eLhxxyiLXQs/UL05gu2bO5I/AAAAAAAACes/j1yNQ5o0tXk/s1600/2012-11-31+to+Pingdong+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eLhxxyiLXQs/UL05gu2bO5I/AAAAAAAACes/j1yNQ5o0tXk/s640/2012-11-31+to+Pingdong+018.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Or rather, what didn't I?! How about, starting from 12 o'clock: pumpkin boiled with ginger; braised napa cabbage (or some similar leaf) and braised fernish kinda guys; rice vermicelli noodles with soy sause; bean sprouts and seaweed; sauteed green beans (center); a sweet potato stick; a ball of battered dill; mushrooms fried with bread crumbs; eggplants with thai basil; and bitter gourd stewed with pineapple. And a dousing of peanuts on top for good measure.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-li37szRWVc4/UL05fhDrLPI/AAAAAAAACek/0aICi8afvt4/s1600/2012-11-31+to+Pingdong+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-li37szRWVc4/UL05fhDrLPI/AAAAAAAACek/0aICi8afvt4/s640/2012-11-31+to+Pingdong+019.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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A closer look at the dill ball. Really weird - the taste of a pickle, the texture of a french fry.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gklbACU85nQ/UL05FZdcrXI/AAAAAAAACcc/8-06aVeaKGs/s1600/2012-11-15+Luodong+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gklbACU85nQ/UL05FZdcrXI/AAAAAAAACcc/8-06aVeaKGs/s640/2012-11-15+Luodong+010.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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These restaurants are all over the place (some, like this one in Yilan near Luke and Tanya's house, have more ambiance than others), meaning that no matter where the clueless traveler finds himself, he can get a wonderful meal covering the entire color and taxonomic spectrum. Even without knowing the name of a single dish. Or a single vegetable! Just three characters: one that looks like a window with a cowlick, one that's got a gravestone and the character for "power," and one that has a big mess up top and the character for "cuisine" at the bottom. Indeed, many of the buffets are even open-air, so that without knowing a single character or a single word, you can fill up. Where else can someone eating solo get so many different kinds of food? <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_XT3yeMQj44/UL05EAt-3wI/AAAAAAAACcY/pcvIETa_vcc/s1600/2012-11-15+Luodong+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_XT3yeMQj44/UL05EAt-3wI/AAAAAAAACcY/pcvIETa_vcc/s640/2012-11-15+Luodong+002.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Would you pay $2.50 for this? Yes, I thought so. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wl140LjtGx0/UL05M1ne-5I/AAAAAAAACc4/rnsSyWzG6_o/s1600/2012-11-17+Yilan+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wl140LjtGx0/UL05M1ne-5I/AAAAAAAACc4/rnsSyWzG6_o/s640/2012-11-17+Yilan+001.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Lordy lordy lordy.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WTuZFQzq0jc/UL05GvqDAOI/AAAAAAAACeI/tH7r-0w3Rd0/s1600/2012-11-15+Luodong+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WTuZFQzq0jc/UL05GvqDAOI/AAAAAAAACeI/tH7r-0w3Rd0/s640/2012-11-15+Luodong+012.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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These buffets are also a prime place for food photography. So many beautiful veggies, sitting there under the heating lamps!<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ahAaLpVSLiI/UL05L83I4sI/AAAAAAAACc0/Bd6ISAXZiOI/s1600/2012-11-16+Yilan+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ahAaLpVSLiI/UL05L83I4sI/AAAAAAAACc0/Bd6ISAXZiOI/s640/2012-11-16+Yilan+008.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Another variety of zi zhu can, where you point at up to five veggie dishes behind a window and they plop it atop a bowl of rice. A bit like custom-made bibimbap.<br />
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Outside of the zi zhu can, though, life here can be a little rough. Taiwan uses the old style Chinese characters, which are quite a bit more complicated that the ones used on the mainland, many of which were simplified by Mao during the cultural revolution. Much of my reading ability has therefore gone out the window, leaving me with occasional meal failures such as this one:<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r8ZM_4Po2cA/UL05CuwU9HI/AAAAAAAACcQ/SUvwUDFGwo8/s1600/2012-11-14+to+Luodong+014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r8ZM_4Po2cA/UL05CuwU9HI/AAAAAAAACcQ/SUvwUDFGwo8/s640/2012-11-14+to+Luodong+014.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Giant radishes, definitely among my least favorite vegetables. Bitter gourd, which I don't understand why anybody bothers eating. Some so-so tofu. And rice. It'll get me through the next fifty km, I suppose. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tr7Cjl9qG4g/UL05bir29JI/AAAAAAAACeM/e5KNESr6F2s/s1600/2012-11-30+to+Maobitou+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tr7Cjl9qG4g/UL05bir29JI/AAAAAAAACeM/e5KNESr6F2s/s640/2012-11-30+to+Maobitou+015.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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When in doubt, I just bust out this old gem: shu1cai4 de chao3mian4 chao3fan4 ke3yi3 ma? wo3 bu2 yao4 ji1dan4 bu2 yao4 rou4. "Can you do fried veggie fried noodles or rice? I don't want any eggs or meat." The answer is always: either ke3yi3! (Can do!). Well, except when it's mei2you3 fan4. No rice! <br />
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In the street-food category, we have:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFxrt3jNicQu9SommO3kpavco998U4VB3Y0OxiO-amqU8Ee4gztfOSLwj0LdksFsrsx32IqQbgw70-LemOBLMAtNpeCbqVuzshCnt5pOj2CNtpXfTQMibqokBIvGGPj1HQELS9RQ/s1600/2012-11-27+to+Ruisui+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFxrt3jNicQu9SommO3kpavco998U4VB3Y0OxiO-amqU8Ee4gztfOSLwj0LdksFsrsx32IqQbgw70-LemOBLMAtNpeCbqVuzshCnt5pOj2CNtpXfTQMibqokBIvGGPj1HQELS9RQ/s640/2012-11-27+to+Ruisui+004.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Cong you bing (scallion oil pastry). Note that I have found yet another way to reduce plastic usage: rather than take a plastic bag that I'll throw out after scarfing down my snack, I can just set them on the inverted lid of my cooking pot. Good job, self!</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7rISspxHreA/UL05X8WzUCI/AAAAAAAACd0/QsdJNRxZh_M/s1600/2012-11-28+to+Dongyuan+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7rISspxHreA/UL05X8WzUCI/AAAAAAAACd0/QsdJNRxZh_M/s640/2012-11-28+to+Dongyuan+003.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">These were common in China too, but here in Taiwan you get to turn them into wraps, </span><span style="text-align: center;">adding either some sort of meat, eggs and herbs, or just veggies.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7cikHNkEQM0/UL05WHW2llI/AAAAAAAACdo/Qb9RdA1r8rY/s1600/2012-11-28+to+Dongyuan+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7cikHNkEQM0/UL05WHW2llI/AAAAAAAACdo/Qb9RdA1r8rY/s640/2012-11-28+to+Dongyuan+005.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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At a dollar a piece, why not eat two?<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DGhDLSN4FzE/UL1M7cRc_XI/AAAAAAAACfg/FPANWx1qDik/s1600/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DGhDLSN4FzE/UL1M7cRc_XI/AAAAAAAACfg/FPANWx1qDik/s640/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+024.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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What's this I spy? Something Green Something Something Vegetarian Cuisine! <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GxnrY2BDbTo/UL1M9qLdOJI/AAAAAAAACfs/G6ttU1xX0ug/s1600/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GxnrY2BDbTo/UL1M9qLdOJI/AAAAAAAACfs/G6ttU1xX0ug/s640/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+025.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Oh holy lord god in heaven above, it's a vegan dumpling shop. I nearly crapped my lycra cycling shorts with joy. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0jI9CF9mmW8/UL1M6d-d-pI/AAAAAAAACfU/5DyRHbP9o8M/s1600/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0jI9CF9mmW8/UL1M6d-d-pI/AAAAAAAACfU/5DyRHbP9o8M/s640/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+020.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Let's start with two veg dumplings, five pot stickers, and a cup of soy milk. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--8mWjBUjZvM/UL1M8syTZkI/AAAAAAAACfk/iaCwQyMTzf0/s1600/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--8mWjBUjZvM/UL1M8syTZkI/AAAAAAAACfk/iaCwQyMTzf0/s640/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+023.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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What's that purple one? Oh, it's a sweet one you say? I think I'll take that and the sesame one next to it as well. A little sweet talking about my trip and my efforts not to eat meat or leave behind any trash earned me a free meal. They even offered to give me dumplings for the road. Unfortunately my bags were full. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-96e8NRe4Iow/UL05dG9CO0I/AAAAAAAACeU/t5PlGzbkzGI/s1600/2012-11-30+to+Maobitou+067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-96e8NRe4Iow/UL05dG9CO0I/AAAAAAAACeU/t5PlGzbkzGI/s640/2012-11-30+to+Maobitou+067.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I can't remember what these little guys are called. What I do remember is that they come with a variety of fillings. Pictured here: one peanut, one sweet potato, one sesame. 3 for a buck. Hot and fluffy and crispy and fresh. Mouth waters at the memory. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVs7l1l25qw/UL05efbEa7I/AAAAAAAACeg/dHpCJ9dV07E/s1600/2012-11-30+to+Maobitou+097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVs7l1l25qw/UL05efbEa7I/AAAAAAAACeg/dHpCJ9dV07E/s640/2012-11-30+to+Maobitou+097.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Just like in China, after all the rich sautees and starchy street snacks, my stomach wants a raw meal every once in a while. Camping is the perfect opportunity, since I can buy the ingredients ahead of time, cram them into my cooking pot, and chop them all up later. Less than a dollar for this baby: greens, Chinese celery, carrots, cherry tomatoes, chives, and peanuts fried with Thai basil. Who needs cooking?</div>
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As for fruits:<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NrM6u8l84g0/UL05TrmCY5I/AAAAAAAACdc/esY3MXLFAsQ/s1600/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NrM6u8l84g0/UL05TrmCY5I/AAAAAAAACdc/esY3MXLFAsQ/s640/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+008.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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A guava a day keeps depression at bay. These things are incredible. And monstrous.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8EEGkT_b4iY/UL05U-xdLgI/AAAAAAAACdk/sfQ35Avv8RI/s1600/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8EEGkT_b4iY/UL05U-xdLgI/AAAAAAAACdk/sfQ35Avv8RI/s640/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+010.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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The guava is an interesting fruit. It doesn't exactly have layers, and yet it does. As you near the center, the flesh transitions from kind of bland and airy (like a cheese puff ball almost) to a little more sweet and gooey. As the guavas age, they get softer to the touch and the gooey core expands. Most people don't like eating the seeds (though I don't even notice them), so they buy the guavas when they're rock hard, eat only the outer section, and throw out the middle. I, on the other hand, search out the old, bruised, neglected guavas, buy them at half price, and revel in how much smarter I am than everybody else. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TQQHwCjn2m8/UL05RZes_6I/AAAAAAAACdM/qQCmskzvzoY/s1600/2012-11-20+Yilan+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TQQHwCjn2m8/UL05RZes_6I/AAAAAAAACdM/qQCmskzvzoY/s640/2012-11-20+Yilan+010.JPG" width="640" /></a> </div>
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New fruit alert: a search for "yellow tropical fruit tastes like tangy roast sweet potato" informs me that this is a Canistel. Whatever, it's like eating ice cream off a tree! I've only seen these once, and at the time I didn't know what they were. Also, at the time of eating my fingers were too sloppy (and my appetite too ravenous) to operate the camera. Next time!</div>
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Annnnd I'll close with two photos that I like for purely aesthetic reasons. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXYiQHCry-Qf6Y_1RnLHZv2zgInmmM0LCuJP-D4xqTwIGaBbAHnuRmoumZBtOPaN-5gj2uwpEjdlAACoFWSxh0J0-ukE-Qaa5fpULemnvcsuwbvLDIho6humGLgsZuC_nziUQKkw/s1600/2012-11-20+Yilan+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXYiQHCry-Qf6Y_1RnLHZv2zgInmmM0LCuJP-D4xqTwIGaBbAHnuRmoumZBtOPaN-5gj2uwpEjdlAACoFWSxh0J0-ukE-Qaa5fpULemnvcsuwbvLDIho6humGLgsZuC_nziUQKkw/s640/2012-11-20+Yilan+005.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Water chestnuts. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CJhm_RDp3O4/UL05OIqauzI/AAAAAAAACdA/pRl7LeiIqZA/s1600/2012-11-20+Yilan+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CJhm_RDp3O4/UL05OIqauzI/AAAAAAAACdA/pRl7LeiIqZA/s640/2012-11-20+Yilan+008.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Cute little buggers. I hope nobody eats you. </div>
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In case you were wondering, I haven't left Vipassana early. I just wrote this post a few days ago and told it to upload later. At the moment, I'm either sleeping, sitting in silence, or chowing down on some Taiwanese Vipassana food. See ya in a week!<br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-4482872181406575422012-12-03T08:38:00.001-08:002012-12-03T08:38:57.462-08:00On the Road Again, Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
(In which I take a break from being a mooch and return to life on The Bike.)<br />
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After about ten days of quality time with Tanya and Luke - most of it spent either eating or talking about where to eat, and thus a subject for a later food post - it came time for me to get a move on. I had signed up for another (my 4th) Vipassana course on the other corner of the island and had about ten days to make it. Considering that many locals complete the full "HuanDao" (Circle Island) route in as many days, me and my by-now well rested glutes ought to have no problem, right? Right?<br />
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I exited Yilan surrounded by an intense drizzle, which cleared up after not long but reappeared once I hit my first mountain. During the ascent I passed through several rain stages, from occasional little pleasant droplets to annoyingly sideways and gusty to somewhat serious downpour. At one point I had the distinct feeling not of being rained on but rather of being located inside the rain. I finished the 400+ meter climb and began my descent in the rain, holding onto my brakes for dear life and stopping intermittently to check how much of the pads had turned to sludge. Answer: most if not all.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m2yY5sSZArw/ULyFzTc0D1I/AAAAAAAACXQ/j5NkAOBOCaQ/s1600/2012-11-26+to+Hualian+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m2yY5sSZArw/ULyFzTc0D1I/AAAAAAAACXQ/j5NkAOBOCaQ/s640/2012-11-26+to+Hualian+018.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sludgy breaks + blustery winds + switchbacks overhanging the ocean = stressful ride! But worth it for the sublimity.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dnmQ6CdZdNs/ULyF3_zM-rI/AAAAAAAACX4/sHeUWeRqvFM/s1600/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dnmQ6CdZdNs/ULyF3_zM-rI/AAAAAAAACX4/sHeUWeRqvFM/s640/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+035.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Day 2: Out of the mountains, the most difficult part of the Taiwan coastal route completed. Into the East Rift Valley National Scenic area - 200km of rice paddies squished between two mountain ranges. Also, an end to two weeks' worth of lame weather. Oh, the splendor!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a_WbOR7Dpow/ULyF5eS5NwI/AAAAAAAACYA/kBsxWf19E38/s1600/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a_WbOR7Dpow/ULyF5eS5NwI/AAAAAAAACYA/kBsxWf19E38/s640/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+036.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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THE BATMAN WAS HERE<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2ZeiNvcktOk/ULyF1dMTCtI/AAAAAAAACXk/ZUG7t5pp074/s1600/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2ZeiNvcktOk/ULyF1dMTCtI/AAAAAAAACXk/ZUG7t5pp074/s640/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+025.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Special thanks to the owners of this vegetarian dumpling shop, who fueled me up for free and even stuffed my bags with bananas for the road. I ate: two veg dumplings, five veg pot stickers, one red bean roll, one sesame roll, and one cup of fresh soy milk. Full power!<br />
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The ERVSA had some intermittent bicycle-only roads. This one was a reclaimed train track. The plain old car roads were plenty peaceful, but who could say no to riding on this?<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HqxAmUY6-qs/ULyF6gaIWbI/AAAAAAAACYI/13TV4tqE6gg/s1600/2012-11-28+to+Dongyuan+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HqxAmUY6-qs/ULyF6gaIWbI/AAAAAAAACYI/13TV4tqE6gg/s640/2012-11-28+to+Dongyuan+001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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One reason (among many) to learn to read Chinese: the translations aren't always accurate! In this case, they straight up reversed "North" and "South." Nice try, but I ain't no sucka.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXODvntoj7STfkAyO3HgtuQDsYoQvXY8rgcTTpYsu97BKcW7xrNtKZkQ8Ekw537gHc1Ohkn0LlMTPlRojzSgbRI_u4btSPu3pIQgMVIpGqkRxIc2muAxftnkmqiAf3aGzoTWH6mQ/s1600/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXODvntoj7STfkAyO3HgtuQDsYoQvXY8rgcTTpYsu97BKcW7xrNtKZkQ8Ekw537gHc1Ohkn0LlMTPlRojzSgbRI_u4btSPu3pIQgMVIpGqkRxIc2muAxftnkmqiAf3aGzoTWH6mQ/s640/2012-11-27+to+Taidong+002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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On night 1 I couchsurfed, but I'm still not one for sticking a camera in a near-stranger's face to record the encounter. So, no trace of that except for the memory. Night 2 though: I found this awesome campground, with elevated wooden shelters that even had electrical outlets! Not pictured, but not too far away: shower stalls and bathrooms. Deluxe! Bonus: I showed up when it was dark and the main office was closed, so I camped for free! </div>
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Day 3: The spoke problems continue, but I've gotten a lot better at knowing what to look for and how to do minor repairs in a jiffy. Note how the spoke has come unscrewed from its little socket. I caught this one just in time - a couple more bumps or potholes and I might have been out of commission AGAIN.<br />
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What a healthy spoke looks like, for reference. <br />
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Out of the East Rift Valley and onto a stretch of flat coastal highway. Pure riding bliss! The only thing that could have made it better would have been having a machete to crack open all the coconuts that had fallen from the trees. <br />
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At some point, the coastal highway turned inward to avoid a national protected area. As inward means mountainward, I had another 500m to climb - according to the 'net, the last big climb of the loop around Taiwan. At some point I hit these signs - 2km at an 8% grade, as part of 5km of switchbacks. This should be doable, right? I made three simultaneous prayers: 1) may my spokes hold out; 2) may I make it up and over and down again before dark; 3) may the fog please please please not turn into rain. <br />
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Up about 400m and so far so good. And then, it started pouring! Craaaaaaaaaaap. Too dark to see, too slippery to ride, too in the middle of nowhere for there to be any open hotels, too wet to camp. What is the intrepid moocher to do?<br />
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How about pull up in front of the next house you see and ask the owners if you can camp under their tin roof? My first real success at begging! These kind grandparent folks took me in and even offered to feed me. (Having a shred of decency left in me, I refused, and instead cleaned out everything remaining in my food bag: a couple of tiny bananas, a handful of peanuts, and a hand of raisins. It's a wonder my body didn't consume itself over night.) We chatted for a while and I showed them pictures of Beijing and my family back home, and eventually they offered to let me wash up in their bathroom and sleep in their spare bedroom. Who ever heard of two seventy-five year old Chinese country folk and one American cycling vagabond sharing one roof for an evening? Unbelievable. <br />
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The next morning, I made my way down the mountain and back to the coast. Oh, the beauty! There's nothing that can be said. <br />
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I swear, there were real live monkeys in here, hooting and hollering and jumping around showing me their pink, puffy posteriors. As soon as I dismounted, though, they scurried into the background. <br />
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The combination of the incredible generosity shown to me the previous night and the amazingly idyllic scenery around me all day led to quite a frustrating feeling: I wanted to quit riding! Each little village, every little plot, felt so perfect, I just wanted to plop down and live there forever. Doing what? I don't know. Just sitting around and picking fruit off of trees. I wonder if there's a Visa Class for that.<br />
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Then again, it's hard to turn down the charms of the road. Indeed, the sense of excitement mounted as I drew closer and closer to the southern tip of the island. My trip has so far been mostly devoid of landmarks. Beijing in the beginning, yes, and Xiamen later, but no real geographical stopping points. But here, coming up on the end of the island, a feeling of real accomplishment swept over me, energized me, pushed me through to the end despite that fact that I had had a pitiful dinner and only mediocre breakfast several hours before. <br />
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Is this the end? Let's celebrate, Street Fighter Style. How is it that inner nerd and extreme athlete can so seamlessly coexist inside of one individual?<br />
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OK, that previous celebration, however enjoyable, was slightly premature. This being Taiwan, everything is well- and cutesily-marked. Zui nan dian (most south spot), brace yourself!<br />
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Yeah baby yeah! <br />
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Not only am I here, but the path I took was more than three months and FIVE MEGAMETERS! Powered (almost) only by my own thighs, themselves powered (almost) only by grains, fruits, legumes, and veggies. Put that on your goddamn map why don't you?!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-liSHS3t3COg/ULyGbd9crdI/AAAAAAAACaE/N-gRPinENlc/s1600/2012-11-30+to+Maobitou+052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-liSHS3t3COg/ULyGbd9crdI/AAAAAAAACaE/N-gRPinENlc/s640/2012-11-30+to+Maobitou+052.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Celebratory punch-dance ensues. <br />
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As do a million photos with tourists from the mainland. May of them were actually from Shenyang, the capital of the province where I started my trip. Hooray for my homies!<br />
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At some point during the day, the following thought occurred to me: it doesn't take any particular photographic skill to take amazing pictures of the sky. All you have to do is remember to look up! With my hat on to prevent sunburn, my helmet on to prevent brain damage, and my eyes on the road to prevent accidents, I miss out on way too much scenery. I almost always take my hat off in the mountains so I can see above and around me, but during the weeks of rain and city life I had all but forgotten what the sky looked like. How lucky are we to have stuff like this literally surrounding us day-in and day-out?<br />
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It's not easy to find a place from which you can see the sun set in the evening and rise the following morning. Indeed, you pretty much have to be at the tip of an island. After Taiwan, I'm heading back to the Motherland, so who knows when I'll get another chance? (Apparently all this time outdoors is turning me into a pagan...) Here's Maobitou, another one of Taiwan's tips. <br />
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The sun had set by five thirty and it was pretty dark by six. My computer was broken (more on that later) and I wasn't entirely sure about the legality of my plan to pitch my tent in the parking lot, so I didn't want to attract any attention by playing harmonica. How to entertain myself for several hours before it was safe to pitch my tent and go to sleep? Thanks to some great foresight on my part, I had already been to town to stock up on salad supplies. Then a custard apple for dessert. Still three hours left before bedtime, so: trippy picture time. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-efkS8gu1uWE/ULyGgdJsw6I/AAAAAAAACaw/4O9aIBBlG30/s1600/2012-11-30+to+Maobitou+096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-efkS8gu1uWE/ULyGgdJsw6I/AAAAAAAACaw/4O9aIBBlG30/s640/2012-11-30+to+Maobitou+096.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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My feelings about pictures these days are so screwed up. I want to be immersed in every moment of my trip. To what extend does taking photos of stuff distract me from interacting with people or paying attention to the environment? To what extent does the camera come between me and whatever I'm photographing? <br />
On the other hand, to what extent can the camera be used as a tool to actually enhance these experiences? As a way to play with people who I can't converse with? As a way to focus my attention, to actively search out and frame some beauty? And to what extend does it depend on <i>how</i> I take the pictures? Maybe if I put more thought into each shot, they'll feel less like trinkets and more like projects. <br />
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To be honest, I'm uncomfortable with the sense of acquisitiveness that underlies the desire photograph everything. These moments are bound to pass, one can't hold on to them. Indeed, that's a good thing; every moment has to pass to make room for the next one.<br />
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I don't have any conclusions here, but it was that mindset that led me to fooling around a little more with my manual settings. In this case, setting the shutter to stay open for a full fifteen seconds, then dancing around and flashing a light in my face. If you've ever wanted a way to give yourself nightmares, this is it...<br />
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Night clouds and moon. <br />
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10PM: It's so warm, I think I'll try to sleep in my hammock. <br />
11PM: It's so windy, I think I'll pitch my tent.<br />
1AM: I'm getting rained on, I'd better clip on the rain layer<br />
2AM: It's so windy that the tent and I are nearly being lifted up in the air. The tent is shaking so violently that my mp3 player, which I had stowed in one of the side pockets, is swinging around and smashing me in the head. If this keeps up for much longer, I'm worried that the tent floor will actually tear. No choice but to undo the poles and sleep sandwich-style.<br />
5AM: Wow, I actually caught a few winks. Now it's time to pack up and go watch the sunrise.<br />
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Unfortunately, it was so cloudy that the sunrise was entirely obscured. Pagan plan entirely spoiled, aganozing night spent in vain. To top it all often: exasperating signs.<br />
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Lesson learned: no more camping in fricking wild sea current zones! I threw a berry up into the air as an experiment. Once it got about three feet above my head, it immediately made a ninety degree change of course and zipped off to the west. I threw another berry in front of me and it did the same, except it turned east! What the hell?!<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H2WlrISRxBc/ULyGlu2HdtI/AAAAAAAACbU/quvImyC9n9E/s1600/2012-11-31+to+Pingdong+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H2WlrISRxBc/ULyGlu2HdtI/AAAAAAAACbU/quvImyC9n9E/s640/2012-11-31+to+Pingdong+017.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Let's get the hell out of here, I want some breakfast. On the way, the notorious western plains winds carried an odd, invisible drizzle. Very kind of the weather to also provide us with this short-lived rainbow as a means of compensation.<br />
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If you want to read a philosophical ditty about rainbows, read the footnote* It may just convince you that you don't exist. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-4GDZlODGDPDG5RTr9-yEyOZSLNA3XQxdjNzDcIYCy4L8bhe4UuQTBdpfQ0GhJYBF0gQUcsUtFzy-pWE4w1LHjSF_0goBnd6vfBdvegEgZ4XkzmvriT_MpV9lG6v3zYHBp_y3XQ/s1600/2012-12-01+to+Kaoshiung+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-4GDZlODGDPDG5RTr9-yEyOZSLNA3XQxdjNzDcIYCy4L8bhe4UuQTBdpfQ0GhJYBF0gQUcsUtFzy-pWE4w1LHjSF_0goBnd6vfBdvegEgZ4XkzmvriT_MpV9lG6v3zYHBp_y3XQ/s640/2012-12-01+to+Kaoshiung+007.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Neither here nor there: at some point, my computer stopped working. It just wouldn't turn on. Not surprising considering that it's going on five years old and that it's been through a year in a backpack and three months in a bike bag. What was surprising was how unperturbed I was by the thought that I could lose all my photos, music, movies, documents, and whatever else was buried on the hard drive. I feel like it would have been no major loss. Maybe even some sort of liberation... <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yH5Hy7BwtHA/ULyGmpUSBwI/AAAAAAAACbc/fm01mXNKkK0/s1600/2012-12-01+to+Kaoshiung+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yH5Hy7BwtHA/ULyGmpUSBwI/AAAAAAAACbc/fm01mXNKkK0/s640/2012-12-01+to+Kaoshiung+006.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Nonetheless, I can't bear the thought of throwing out an entire electronic device when only one small part has failed. What a waste of resources. And of the land blown to smithereens to mine them from the ground. And of the water polluted in the process! And of the life of those who did the work in deep, dirty holes. Surely not everyone has it as bad as I've seen in documentaries...but knowing what I know, I simply can't be cavalier about these things. So, open that darn thing up, void the warranty, and reseat those RAM modules. Success! Win for me, win for the environment.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TK7dxm544yk/ULyGosWqPHI/AAAAAAAACbs/A_zPtQiUZpY/s1600/2012-12-01+to+Kaoshiung+014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TK7dxm544yk/ULyGosWqPHI/AAAAAAAACbs/A_zPtQiUZpY/s640/2012-12-01+to+Kaoshiung+014.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Now I've reached Kaoshiung and this week's odyssey has come to a close. Seven days on the road. 600km or so, bringing my total to over 5000. Three nights couchsurfing, two nights camping, one night mooched from strangers, one mooched from friends. Money spent: less than fifty dollars. Fun times and sublime emotions: too many to count. Gratitude for being alive: check.<br />
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<br />
Time to unwind for a few days with my buddy Zaizai, cousin to the son of my mother's neighbor's younger brother. How the heck did I get here again?<br />
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Next up: another Vipassana retreat! Yep, my fourth set of ten days of noble silence and more-or-less monkdom. Just about no talking, writing, listening, reading, watching of any kind. Inward ho! What mysteries lurk in the depth of my mind? Wait...how is it "my" mind? What is it that's doing the owning? Isn't it the case that I just AM that mind? But...what is an "I"? Where does it start and end? Does (do?) "I" exist? Can sitting in silence help to unravel these knots? Or maybe I should say tie these loose ends together? Huh, who's "I" though?<br />
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I'll let you know the answers in a couple weeks. Unless, of course, you've already got them. In that case, clue me in!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
There was a young man who said, "Though</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It seems that I know that I know,</div>
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What I would like to see</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Is the 'I' that knows 'me'</div>
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When I know that I know that I know." ** </div>
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*A digression on Rainbows by Allan Watts to prove that Paganism hasn't entirely overtaken my Hippieness:<br />
<br />
"A still more cogent example of existence as relationship is the<br />
production of a rainbow.(1) For a rainbow appears only when there is a<br />
certain triangular relationship between three components: the sun,<br />
moisture in the atmosphere, and an observer. If all three are present, and<br />
if the angular relationship between them is correct; then, and then only,<br />
will there be the phenomenon "rainbow." Diaphanous as it may be, a<br />
rainbow is no subjective hallucination. It can be verified by any number<br />
of observers, though each will see it in a slightly different position. As a<br />
boy, I once chased the end of a rainbow on my bicycle and was amazed<br />
to find that it always receded. It was like trying to catch the reflection of<br />
the moon on water. I did not then understand that no rainbow would<br />
appear unless the sun, and I, and the invisible center of the bow were on<br />
the same straight line, so that I changed the apparent position of the bow<br />
as I moved.<br />
The point is, then, that an observer in the proper position is as<br />
necessary for the manifestation of a rainbow as the other two<br />
components, the sun and the moisture. Of course, one could say that if<br />
the sun and a body of moisture were in the right relationship, say, over<br />
the ocean, any observer on a ship that sailed into line with them would<br />
see a rainbow. But one could also say that if an observer and the sun<br />
were correctly aligned there would be a rainbow if there were moisture<br />
in the air!"<br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-67249223716709575812012-11-20T22:47:00.000-08:002012-11-21T00:39:50.287-08:00The Moochfest Continues<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In which I take it easy for a week. <br />
<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-txZshsHW98Y/UKc0f97GYJI/AAAAAAAACSE/3s3T4VF_lSI/s1600-h/2012-11-09%252520to%252520Taipei%252520005%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-09 to Taipei 005" border="0" height="321" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Pe9D4ZFNbcc/UKc0gzdQH8I/AAAAAAAACSM/_T3DOQdlERY/2012-11-09%252520to%252520Taipei%252520005_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-09 to Taipei 005" width="564" /></a> <br />
I arrived in Taiwan nice and refreshed. When I reserved my ferry ticket, I got a coupon for a free upgrade from “Middle Class C” to “Middle Class B,” which turned out to be one of the “Luxury Suites” on the boat. Apparently not may other passengers had the same good fortune, because I had the room and all six beds to myself. And a private bathroom! Fancy that. This group of traveling dancers was also on my boat. They had done a brief performance outside the ferry terminal in Xiamen, and did another one immediately upon deboating in Keelung.<br />
<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-fMqECvBfcIA/UKc0iMs31PI/AAAAAAAACSU/nSknE6QZXqQ/s1600-h/2012-11-09%252520to%252520Taipei%252520011%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-09 to Taipei 011" border="0" height="340" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Ggv1Ho-t_P4/UKc0jKD1JtI/AAAAAAAACSY/XEMkeKw-B0I/2012-11-09%252520to%252520Taipei%252520011_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-09 to Taipei 011" width="597" /></a> <br />
Within twenty minutes of arriving I had already met the mayor of the city! Imagine that. He even gave me a business card. It was printed on flimsy paper rather than on stock. Interesting. <br />
(Thank you to random photographer guy for neglecting to get my bicycle in the frame.)<br />
<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-VAnGUNUiFNw/UKc0kBHyD1I/AAAAAAAACSg/GhtTCCrCBo8/s1600-h/2012-11-09%252520to%252520Taipei%252520012%25255B11%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-09 to Taipei 012" border="0" height="325" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Vl2p5K0Vf2o/UKc0lLWwz_I/AAAAAAAACSo/nJ8bBT8skfg/2012-11-09%252520to%252520Taipei%252520012_thumb%25255B7%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-09 to Taipei 012" width="571" /></a> <br />
I lucked out when Teddy came up to chat with me and wound up leading me to the road I needed to follow to Taipei. Thanks, dude! He’s a reporter for a local paper, so we did a little interview on the spot. I showed off my 2-month old water bottle and the wooden chopsticks I’ve been reusing since who knows when. <br />
<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-WpX4-Tlxe6w/UKc0mWjEAnI/AAAAAAAACSw/M06FvWFlzjw/s1600-h/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520011%25255B12%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-14 to Luodong 011" border="0" height="352" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-f4purZkZ69M/UKc0nku0v0I/AAAAAAAACS8/KiHSSXIkQ_0/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520011_thumb%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-14 to Luodong 011" width="618" /></a> <br />
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After 20km on route 2, I finally found the Keelung River bike route. Another 10km and I finally started to see some scenery I recognized, including the "Grand Hotel” in the background. I’m almost home!<br />
<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-4wiXr5xz8_Y/UKc0ozBfWiI/AAAAAAAACTE/dlAeF0y4Teg/s1600-h/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520007%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-14 to Luodong 011" border="0" height="332" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-phe9-0FVZQ0/UKc0p3D7y8I/AAAAAAAACTM/knzMb15RIHI/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520007_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-14 to Luodong 011" width="583" /></a><br />
Taipei 101 in the distance. <br />
<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Ps8G4BNXUR0/UKc0q4X3ppI/AAAAAAAACTQ/De5i0ViSQ3o/s1600-h/2012-11-13%252520Taipei%252520011%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-13 Taipei 011" border="0" height="335" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-dPGAWOZVRtw/UKc0r0IYP3I/AAAAAAAACTY/u-SF7ruHTTk/2012-11-13%252520Taipei%252520011_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-13 Taipei 011" width="587" /></a><br />
At long last, reunited with my Taiwanese family! Little Bro on the left, his girlfriend Apple, Uncle, and Auntie. For five days straight they stuffed me with mountain vegetables, Domino’s pizza, GUAVAS, and other sorts of goodness. <br />
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<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-KKDTtPGnXKA/UKc0s_Nz2GI/AAAAAAAACTk/CFE27LHPEq8/s1600-h/2012-11-13%252520Taipei%252520002%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-13 Taipei 002" border="0" height="328" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Z4ldsXlFqRY/UKc0ubzA-7I/AAAAAAAACTo/TcyJT2fh2O4/2012-11-13%252520Taipei%252520002_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-13 Taipei 002" width="576" /></a><br />
The fields the provided the grub for the above meal. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bGG1qKO1srY/UKyS94l3ILI/AAAAAAAACWw/BNRhpqDpPOQ/s1600/2012-11-13+Taipei+014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bGG1qKO1srY/UKyS94l3ILI/AAAAAAAACWw/BNRhpqDpPOQ/s640/2012-11-13+Taipei+014.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Apple’s a fan of Winnie the pPooh….<br />
<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-pRwGp3DB69w/UKc0vMDAeKI/AAAAAAAACUE/cZGwnCdsv6Y/s1600-h/2012-11-13%252520Taipei%252520017%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-13 Taipei 017" border="0" height="321" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-GfWJZKSNNqA/UKc0wNEAMPI/AAAAAAAACUI/CuVx_IjuKNQ/2012-11-13%252520Taipei%252520017_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-13 Taipei 017" width="564" /></a><br />
Uncle runs some sort of kitchen remodeling factory and is quite handy with all manor of things. Here he and Bro are soldering some connections on one of my helmet lights. They also fixed my flashlight up. <br />
<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-vxdXYeEcLDQ/UKc0zi6UGHI/AAAAAAAACUM/tdY6Z0hiSeg/s1600-h/2012-11-13%252520Taipei%252520025%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-13 Taipei 025" border="0" height="322" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-boBsFthpmd0/UKc00VprT3I/AAAAAAAACUU/H9bAFKu8Sig/2012-11-13%252520Taipei%252520025_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-13 Taipei 025" width="565" /></a><br />
We also took a trip to Shilin Night Market, home to millions of fruit vendors, fast-ish food stalls, and clothing of all varieties. I believe this shirt belongs to the “unintentionally zen” series. <br />
<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-32Rt-qWVrJs/UKc01ae_hZI/AAAAAAAACUc/MKcBIVn_09E/s1600-h/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520003%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-14 to Luodong 003" border="0" height="321" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-niKHauKcmqI/UKc02d4O1rI/AAAAAAAACUk/jVllcUsLSfQ/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520003_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-14 to Luodong 003" width="564" /></a><br />
While us young’uns were out at the night market, Auntie cooked up some amazing focaccia bread for my road trip the next morning. Nice and dense, stuffed with black beans, walnuts, sunflower seeds, raisins and more. Even more impressive, she made it in a skillet! <br />
<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-bKi2Otzuh7I/UKc03-YdyII/AAAAAAAACUo/vtofoTnBycQ/s1600-h/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520013%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-14 to Luodong 013" border="0" height="333" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-S5Q2sxhAY1U/UKc05uSEfPI/AAAAAAAACU0/o69V-EgHztA/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520013_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-14 to Luodong 013" width="584" /></a><br />
The next morning I set out for Yilan, where Luke and Tanya live. The first 50km were essentially retracing my steps back to the port city, Keelung. Once I got off the river path, it was pretty boring riding. One endless small town, tons of shops, tons of stoplights. I did pass this beautiful cemetery though. <br />
<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-mhb_ssKMysM/UKc06tndF4I/AAAAAAAACU8/sxfq5GH_hGc/s1600-h/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520016%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-14 to Luodong 016" border="0" height="334" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-5Ec0UDNGbWs/UKc070fPxbI/AAAAAAAACVA/RRJpixkIedM/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520016_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-14 to Luodong 016" width="587" /></a><br />
Eventually I got out of the mountains and reached the water! I was hoping it would be the Pacific, but technically it’s just the Philippine Sea. <br />
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While snacking on some oranges and auntie’s bread, I ran into this couple on a honeymoon tour around Taiwan. Awesome!<br />
<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-AZS9sMQ2Q3w/UKc0-5RerZI/AAAAAAAACVY/fmw8X0GZBu0/s1600-h/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520019%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-14 to Luodong 019" border="0" height="322" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-hitag86ixxU/UKc1ANjcJgI/AAAAAAAACVk/ppH6oisWFXk/2012-11-14%252520to%252520Luodong%252520019_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="2012-11-14 to Luodong 019" width="565" /></a> <br />
<div align="center">
“Congratulations”</div>
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<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/--U6YWgmiuWk/UKc09GbRc5I/AAAAAAAACVs/UFAHGvl77-w/s1600-h/2012-11-15%252520Luodong%252520001%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2012-11-15 Luodong 001" border="0" height="334" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-xO2IL9PXoik/UKc09wDBO2I/AAAAAAAACVw/qi5XdgBBrjU/2012-11-15%252520Luodong%252520001_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline;" title="2012-11-15 Luodong 001" width="586" /></a></div>
I was already 55km and 3.5 hours into my trip when I ran into the honeymooners. I thought I had about 60km left. It turned out to be more like 85. After riding what felt like allllll night (thank the Lord that I had fixed my flashlight the night before!), I finished off my longest day yet (140km). I expect it’ll take me about a week of vegan buffets and good times with pals from a past life for me to recover. Woohoo! </div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-15262114003248472652012-11-18T02:52:00.000-08:002012-11-18T02:52:00.096-08:00Week 9-11 Food!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jvqoqHI840c/UKYCHz-GHEI/AAAAAAAACO0/RUViYy4-9OA/s1600/2012-10-19+to+Queshan+016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jvqoqHI840c/UKYCHz-GHEI/AAAAAAAACO0/RUViYy4-9OA/s640/2012-10-19+to+Queshan+016.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Our first run-in with fresh sugar cane! It looks like bamboo with a big tuft of leaves at the top. The vendors use a machete to hack off the bark and then to chop it into foot-long sections. When you bite into it, all the cell walls collapse and you get a mouthful of sugar water. Then you get to spit out all the fiber. A stalk as tall as me costs a dollar. A wonderful, natural, plastic-free desert. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pSh7zdipMB0/UKYCG1Xe26I/AAAAAAAACOw/Osnj2nH_gnQ/s1600/2012-10-18+to+Luohe+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pSh7zdipMB0/UKYCG1Xe26I/AAAAAAAACOw/Osnj2nH_gnQ/s640/2012-10-18+to+Luohe+005.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
For several days, we couldn't find anywhere serving rice and had to "make do" with stir-fried noodles. Life is rough.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9Lq87lzNqY/UKYCJH8zuPI/AAAAAAAACO8/G6a77rHCgz4/s1600/2012-10-19+to+Queshan+021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9Lq87lzNqY/UKYCJH8zuPI/AAAAAAAACO8/G6a77rHCgz4/s640/2012-10-19+to+Queshan+021.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Another favorite, which I eat almost every chance I get: sweet potatoes! Awesome to eat right away, or while riding, or to pack up and save for dinner at the campsite. Filling and creamy and healthy and, ,of course, cheap: between $0.50-0.75 a pound. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y4vwsBWXw8Y/UKYCJ6BFQ0I/AAAAAAAACPI/ZESxqyRK0Q8/s1600/2012-10-22+to+Wuhan+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y4vwsBWXw8Y/UKYCJ6BFQ0I/AAAAAAAACPI/ZESxqyRK0Q8/s640/2012-10-22+to+Wuhan+001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
OK, I didn't eat this, but I am including it because of its plant status. Meet Loofa, my new dishwashing helper. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jWW_qm3vifM/UKYCLSc3U1I/AAAAAAAACPY/1GzfTr8YUzw/s1600/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jWW_qm3vifM/UKYCLSc3U1I/AAAAAAAACPY/1GzfTr8YUzw/s640/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Booya, I was able to read enough of this menu to know that I had to stop and order the following:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MZ6_CFqVypc/UKYCL41DwQI/AAAAAAAACPc/KEk5Lwfwrjk/s1600/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MZ6_CFqVypc/UKYCL41DwQI/AAAAAAAACPc/KEk5Lwfwrjk/s640/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+003.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Xiang la something cai cai bao (aromatic spicy something veg
veg dumpling).</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NLX7h28r4jI/UKYCM5Bp2XI/AAAAAAAACPk/br3UM0ql_Kk/s1600/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NLX7h28r4jI/UKYCM5Bp2XI/AAAAAAAACPk/br3UM0ql_Kk/s640/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+004.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Qingcai Qingqie bao (green vegetable green something
dumpling)</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dr1gV0Gj_uI/UKYCNpAy3lI/AAAAAAAACPw/-QxY6uy9miA/s1600/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dr1gV0Gj_uI/UKYCNpAy3lI/AAAAAAAACPw/-QxY6uy9miA/s640/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+005.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Zhima hwasheng bao (sesame seed and peanut dumplings). All of them, 12 for a dollar. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JEtdRdHpQ9c/UKYCOt2kiJI/AAAAAAAACP4/lbZxF9QeImw/s1600/2012-11-02+to+Putian+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JEtdRdHpQ9c/UKYCOt2kiJI/AAAAAAAACP4/lbZxF9QeImw/s640/2012-11-02+to+Putian+020.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Down south, they have another style of dumpling called "Caibao" (vegetable dumpling.) It's super greasy, so the locals recommend stuffing it between hamburger rolls. The taste puzzled me for a minute until I realized that it was full of seaweed. Wouldn't have been my first choice but...actually, it was quite nice. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7sd1d3_Yu_Y/UKYCPR585uI/AAAAAAAACQA/t3zfXM2sFRc/s1600/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7sd1d3_Yu_Y/UKYCPR585uI/AAAAAAAACQA/t3zfXM2sFRc/s640/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+003.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Another thing I'm always happy to find: broad beans. Usually they're quite oily and salty, but these must have been baked rather than fried. Great as a salad topping or as an anytime snack. Also plastic-free if you buy them from the right place.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XEe6DoqnzTE/UKYCPyE9HkI/AAAAAAAACQE/C4zX1bD9MkA/s1600/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XEe6DoqnzTE/UKYCPyE9HkI/AAAAAAAACQE/C4zX1bD9MkA/s640/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+005.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Oh, the joys of pomelo. First, peel off the giant rind. (So thick, I hear, that there are no bugs that bother gnawing through, so farmers don't need to spray any pesticide on them). Second, peel off the thin layer of wax-paper like skin to reveal this weird clump of juicy little cells. Third, in the words of my very dear father, "EAT THE GODDAMN THING." Go back to step two and repeat again on the next little compartment, zoning out in the monotony and savoring the taste.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--E99WRBR4n4/UKYCQpqfRaI/AAAAAAAACQQ/rX2ibv_PklY/s1600/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--E99WRBR4n4/UKYCQpqfRaI/AAAAAAAACQQ/rX2ibv_PklY/s640/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+007.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Even the cauliflower is good here!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pu9FoNkwiRE/UKYCR5af8WI/AAAAAAAACQY/GLz7mgJitbg/s1600/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pu9FoNkwiRE/UKYCR5af8WI/AAAAAAAACQY/GLz7mgJitbg/s640/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+003.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I have a stove, but this is the only "cooking" I do nowadays. Carrots, cukes, tomatoes, raisins, and whatever nuts or beans I have on hand. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GY3bSsF-ojk/UKYCSmy-goI/AAAAAAAACQg/qLiMhTpTXQY/s1600/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GY3bSsF-ojk/UKYCSmy-goI/AAAAAAAACQg/qLiMhTpTXQY/s640/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+004.JPG" width="358" /></a></div>
<br />
I've been carrying around three pounds of couscous since the beginning of the trip, but food is so cheap and abundant and novel that there's never any need to cook. When presented with the chance, I made a big batch, just to get rid of it. Fried peanuts, sauteed onions, garlic, and carrots, a bit of vegan bouillion...magnificent. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Aoz1Wiq34hg/UKYCTZ0ijgI/AAAAAAAACQo/ZtiEVcLCFpc/s1600/2012-11-05+to+Jimei+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Aoz1Wiq34hg/UKYCTZ0ijgI/AAAAAAAACQo/ZtiEVcLCFpc/s640/2012-11-05+to+Jimei+001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Breakfast: Scallion bread, scallion pancakes, two pastries with peanut filling, one peanut with green lentil filling. Cost: $1. IHOP eat your heart out!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9HYV74j-OH8/UKYCUGdsV0I/AAAAAAAACQs/nfhJj0VbxqI/s1600/2012-11-05+to+Jimei+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9HYV74j-OH8/UKYCUGdsV0I/AAAAAAAACQs/nfhJj0VbxqI/s640/2012-11-05+to+Jimei+008.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Find a park, hang a hammock, eat a guava, fall asleep for an hour. Yesssss....<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5blfCgIQSZw/UKYCWJBSS2I/AAAAAAAACRA/jP31okpAIDU/s1600/2012-11-06+to+Gulang+Yu+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5blfCgIQSZw/UKYCWJBSS2I/AAAAAAAACRA/jP31okpAIDU/s640/2012-11-06+to+Gulang+Yu+001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
More breakfast goodies: one star fruit, one papaya, two passion fruits. $1. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3YKUlGf13JY/UKYCWq2NMHI/AAAAAAAACQ4/kcdE9gEBV4U/s1600/2012-11-06+to+Gulang+Yu+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3YKUlGf13JY/UKYCWq2NMHI/AAAAAAAACQ4/kcdE9gEBV4U/s640/2012-11-06+to+Gulang+Yu+002.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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More dumplings and a deep-fried scallion pancake.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bKNwq09zHgU/UKYCXONOkwI/AAAAAAAACRI/3YSHq2UNd0A/s1600/2012-11-06+to+Gulang+Yu+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bKNwq09zHgU/UKYCXONOkwI/AAAAAAAACRI/3YSHq2UNd0A/s640/2012-11-06+to+Gulang+Yu+003.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Took me a few tries to figure out how to eat this guy, but now I've got it: rather than cutting it in half (which lets all the guts drip out), cut the top off and dig the rest out with a spoon.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_UsCjFm09hI/UKYCX1ilyHI/AAAAAAAACRQ/zH2xVVkbAok/s1600/2012-11-06+to+Gulang+Yu+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_UsCjFm09hI/UKYCX1ilyHI/AAAAAAAACRQ/zH2xVVkbAok/s640/2012-11-06+to+Gulang+Yu+005.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Fancy lunch at a vegetarian restaurant in Xiamen. I paid nearly 6 bucks for this thing! Mushroom, pepper, and imitation chicken meat stirfry. Decent, but I think I'll stick to po' man's food. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GVJLBq9QDX0/UKYCYhe_OgI/AAAAAAAACRU/w9whKPos768/s1600/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GVJLBq9QDX0/UKYCYhe_OgI/AAAAAAAACRU/w9whKPos768/s640/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+040.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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My go-to dish whenever anyone asks if I can make Korean food: eggplant, chive, and mushroom pancakes.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q-rp_UCyMHY/UKYCZHvbUoI/AAAAAAAACRc/3Ps6wRzzA9c/s1600/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q-rp_UCyMHY/UKYCZHvbUoI/AAAAAAAACRc/3Ps6wRzzA9c/s640/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+041.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Fried tofu cakes work too.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p8_gLNnyB48/UKYahWPI-LI/AAAAAAAACR0/-oiwkYXk5k0/s1600/2012-11-08+Xiamen+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p8_gLNnyB48/UKYahWPI-LI/AAAAAAAACR0/-oiwkYXk5k0/s640/2012-11-08+Xiamen+001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And, last but not least, my final meal in China: a $3 vegetarian buffet just next to Nanputuo temple and Xiamen University. I can't even name most of this stuff, but it was all awesome. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X03w4ysHhQA/UKYaiXFjqpI/AAAAAAAACRw/deeb5Tqe_Uw/s1600/2012-11-08+Xiamen+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X03w4ysHhQA/UKYaiXFjqpI/AAAAAAAACRw/deeb5Tqe_Uw/s640/2012-11-08+Xiamen+003.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And, of course, a second plate. Thus ended my three-month vegan odyssey in China. Taiwan, here I come!</div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-23273915707031263642012-11-16T01:01:00.000-08:002012-11-16T01:01:09.422-08:00Taiwanwards!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Alternate Title: Depending On Who You Ask, I Either Have or Have Not Left China. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kKMNJO0w7hc/UKX88VGi69I/AAAAAAAACMk/3nploNvJl1I/s1600/2012-11-09+to+Taipei+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kKMNJO0w7hc/UKX88VGi69I/AAAAAAAACMk/3nploNvJl1I/s640/2012-11-09+to+Taipei+002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sunrise as seen from the boat. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What’s the next station on your journey?” is a question I
hear a lot.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m going to go to Taiwan and then come back to China after
about two months” is the answer I usually give.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If the person asking me the question has known me for more
than about ten minutes, there’s a 90% chance that he or she will respond, with
a voice good natured but full of pity for my naivete, that Taiwan belongs to
China and therefore my sentence doesn’t make sense. In response I usually I smile politely, but
if I’m feeling feisty I mention that my Taiwanese friends disagree. The conversation never goes any further. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To be fair, two people have told me that their stance is
that Taiwan belongs to Taiwan, no matter how much history it may share with
China. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I most definitely did not bring any of this up ago just
minutes ago when Chinese immigration officials stamped my passport with a big
fat </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">出</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“CHU,” the character for “exit.” Now
my bike and bags and body are all moving Taiwan-wards at a speed measured in
knots. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In other words, I survived the first part of this crazy-ass
trip of mine. Some statistics and
reflections follow.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Days permitted by visa: 90</div>
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<br /></div>
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Days on the road: 86 </div>
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Kilometers Traversed: approximately 5000</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By Bike: About 4400, or 90%.
Had to take one bus ride to meet a friend and one train ride to make my
visa deadline and not get thrown in jail.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dollars spent: 1358. 1/3
of that went to visa fees and the two boat trips (Korea-Dalian and Xiamen-Keelung). Not counting those, it’s 834. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Breakdown: $777 (58%)
on Misc (see note above), just shy of $300 on restaurants, and a bit under $200
each on accommodation and street food/fruit and veg. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Daily Average: Counting everything, just under $16. $7 if excluding the miscellaneous costs</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An average day: $3 in restaurants, $2 for street food or
fruit and veg, $2 for accommodation.
Days with misc spending were few and far between. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Money saved by camping rather than going to hotels: $100.
My tent is now half paid-off. After a couple months, I'll actually (ok, not actually, but kind of, in a sense) be making money every time I sleep in it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p>Injuries: 0</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p>Cases of traveler's diarrhea: NONE! One or two rough mornings after overdoses of a) Chinese "bai jiu" vodka or b) dried peppers and pepper oil, but no cases of illness related to old, spoiled, or dirty food. And that's after 3 months of eating fruits and veggies from vendors, sweet potatoes and pancakes from the same, and meals from dingy little roadside restaurants. Nothing sanitized, nothing wrapped up in plastic, nothing kept in bottles or refrigerators. </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p>Water bottles used in the last two months of the trip: 1! Once I found out that I could get restaurants to refill mine, it was smooth sailing.</o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p>If there's anything you'd like to know, ask via comment and I'll do my best to answer. Otherwise, I will fight the temptation to go on listing bizarre and pointless statistics and will get to the point: traveling this way is CHEAP. Anyone can go fauxbo, I guarantee. A month of total freedom costs less than a car payment or a night in a fancy hotel. A month of delicious, fresh, exotic food costs less than a bottle of high-end booze. A week of scenery and frolicking on beaches and in forests costs less than a video game. Sell your car, sell your junk, cancel your lease, come hit the road! You know where to find me. </o:p></div>
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</div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-78571585034735944992012-11-13T06:17:00.000-08:002012-11-13T06:17:00.453-08:00The Last Leg of the First Leg; or MOOCHFEST; or, Alone but Never Alone<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
After being stuffed up in the city for a solid five days,
spending a night on the train, riding the next morning in the rain for three
hours, and suffering a (bike) breakdown the following day, I needed a good day
or two. Boy did I get them. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cjsJugS--cc/UJ0Bdvdm7LI/AAAAAAAACGY/OQGwdE7nGq8/s1600/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cjsJugS--cc/UJ0Bdvdm7LI/AAAAAAAACGY/OQGwdE7nGq8/s640/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+008.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because the bike breakdown had actually put me <i>ahead</i> of schedule, I figured I had time
for a little scenic detour, so I decided to ride south from Fuzhou on an S
(provincial) road rather than a G (national) one. This is always a gamble; S roads tend to have
better scenery and fewer trucks, but they’re also more likely to have rough
stretches that put lots of strain on both bike and rider. Instead of going directly from Fuzhou to
Putian, I’d pass by a bunch of farms and through villages and perhaps even an
island or two. I was also hoping to find
a grove of trees to sleep in. In the
North there definitely would have been, but here everything was either farmland
or very strange-looking condos that I regret
not taking pictures of. So, after
considering my options, I pulled into an elementary school, remembering that a
Taiwanese friend had suggested that when in Taiwan I give camping there a
try. There were a few kids playing in
one classroom, but I couldn’t find any adults and decided to give up and move
on. Just then I noticed the stairway up
to the second floor, where I found the principal, a late 30-or early-40 something
Obama lookalike (I didn’t tell him this, since most Chinese people seem to hate
Obama and prefer “Omney.” I can’t speak well enough to figure out the reason,
but some friends have told me it’s a race issue.) kicking back with his shoes off and feet up
on his desk. I got his permission to
pitch my tent inside the school walls, but then he introduced me to two
teachers who also board at the school, and they let me set up my tent inside
one of their classrooms. They also
offered me dinner, helped me draw well water for a scrub, prepared tea, and
hung out with me for the whole evening.
Except for the part of it where some village kids came by and I taught
them how to throw the old Frisbee. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EW31eF68ybc/UJ0Bfvu2iRI/AAAAAAAACGo/WmhZAt6fGDs/s1600/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EW31eF68ybc/UJ0Bfvu2iRI/AAAAAAAACGo/WmhZAt6fGDs/s640/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+015.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lili, one of the two teachers boarding at the school.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x6RPYBnpc9k/UJ0BehPjpQI/AAAAAAAACGg/Tp1j_mlidUI/s1600/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x6RPYBnpc9k/UJ0BehPjpQI/AAAAAAAACGg/Tp1j_mlidUI/s640/2012-11-01+to+Dongxiang+012.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is what a Chinese countryside classroom looks like (when it's been stormed by a Fauxbo).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5W8V6HYnP4/UJ0Bg3EHHnI/AAAAAAAACGw/SuXAqf04nj0/s1600/2012-11-02+to+Putian+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5W8V6HYnP4/UJ0Bg3EHHnI/AAAAAAAACGw/SuXAqf04nj0/s640/2012-11-02+to+Putian+002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Breafkast with Feifan (the principal's son), Meiyun ("Beautiful Cloud"), and Lili.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next morning, they cooked me breakfast and tried their
best to keep all two hundred children under control at what was probably their
first in-person foreigner sighting. As
if! I was immediately swarmed, pushed,
pulled, tugged, stepped upon, and dragged to each classroom in succession to
say hello and sign autographs. One of
the teachers asked me to do a little lesson, so I taught the kids the
hokey-pokey/</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1EC0QDBJiONozitd1EIOtWxrJ6QuoqWL4E7boe1l1VNy5uRlf3PUh4L45xnhP8zGIz5OGnxFddVeX2kGZQZcOPQYIyF7ehltWb3ApLXtIJmCLebx8jiOhrQ8rKRRsEzN5bxROg/s1600/2012-11-02+to+Putian+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1EC0QDBJiONozitd1EIOtWxrJ6QuoqWL4E7boe1l1VNy5uRlf3PUh4L45xnhP8zGIz5OGnxFddVeX2kGZQZcOPQYIyF7ehltWb3ApLXtIJmCLebx8jiOhrQ8rKRRsEzN5bxROg/s640/2012-11-02+to+Putian+011.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jesus, all two hundred of them are chasing me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rEVDXOmUguo/UJ0BiuowMLI/AAAAAAAACHE/pbMSnzbbngk/s1600/2012-11-02+to+Putian+014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rEVDXOmUguo/UJ0BiuowMLI/AAAAAAAACHE/pbMSnzbbngk/s640/2012-11-02+to+Putian+014.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So much love. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k1A2yub2QXY/UJ0BjVS2QQI/AAAAAAAACHM/ug-AycpXvIg/s1600/2012-11-02+to+Putian+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k1A2yub2QXY/UJ0BjVS2QQI/AAAAAAAACHM/ug-AycpXvIg/s640/2012-11-02+to+Putian+019.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Meiyun's kindergartners. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After photo-ops with all the teachers and getting loaded up
with water, sweet potatoes, pastries, and a can of “peanut milk soup,” I
escaped the school and headed south following a vague hunch that I might be
able to see the sea. I followed random
hunches until managed to find a giant expanse of sand with not a single human
being other than myself on it. I had
myself a nice three-hour laydown, half-dozing, half-meditating to the
sensations of the sun and the wind on my flesh.
I’m proud to say that I also took the chance to air out those dank
nether regions that are unfortunately stuck in tight bike pants all day long. For
the last two months, because of my looming visa deadline, I have been feeling
pressed for time. It hung over me every
time Mingyu and Xiang wanted to have another beer, sleep another hour, or spend
another day with any of our many wonderful hosts. With that burden lifted – now I’ve got 5 days
to make the next 200km – I was able to finally unwind and recharge. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u7Zf5XVH3KE/UJ0BkvGWGCI/AAAAAAAACHQ/sddd8Zs22Ww/s1600/2012-11-02+to+Putian+021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u7Zf5XVH3KE/UJ0BkvGWGCI/AAAAAAAACHQ/sddd8Zs22Ww/s640/2012-11-02+to+Putian+021.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not easy riding, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JmBp5xSCoww/UJ0Bnnb7IUI/AAAAAAAACHk/cDCU_5yiM2o/s1600/2012-11-02+to+Putian+028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JmBp5xSCoww/UJ0Bnnb7IUI/AAAAAAAACHk/cDCU_5yiM2o/s640/2012-11-02+to+Putian+028.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
but well worth it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1-tcUItSUeA/UJ0BlQqPZqI/AAAAAAAACHY/lzvTXKiMrBk/s1600/2012-11-02+to+Putian+022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1-tcUItSUeA/UJ0BlQqPZqI/AAAAAAAACHY/lzvTXKiMrBk/s640/2012-11-02+to+Putian+022.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yEuPbNi0Qe8/UJ0BmboASNI/AAAAAAAACHg/MXqOJ7y7Y0I/s1600/2012-11-02+to+Putian+023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yEuPbNi0Qe8/UJ0BmboASNI/AAAAAAAACHg/MXqOJ7y7Y0I/s640/2012-11-02+to+Putian+023.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1PLwV19iW5I/UJ0BorTiVcI/AAAAAAAACHw/VcD2vgLHRcQ/s1600/2012-11-02+to+Putian+032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1PLwV19iW5I/UJ0BorTiVcI/AAAAAAAACHw/VcD2vgLHRcQ/s640/2012-11-02+to+Putian+032.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where am I? Baidu GPS puts me about 3km off the coast. I'm pretty sure I'd know it if that were the case. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought about staying there all day and night, but a
little after lunchtime I started to get antsy and decided to keep going. Another few hours of riding brought me to the
city of Putian, where a kind restaurant owner refused to let me pay him for my
dinner and a kindly pedestrian led me to a basketball court where I could </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
pitch
my tent. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5-jTDxR5z6E/UJ0BpjaBXoI/AAAAAAAACH4/v90Wv22LftE/s1600/2012-11-02+to+Putian+034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5-jTDxR5z6E/UJ0BpjaBXoI/AAAAAAAACH4/v90Wv22LftE/s640/2012-11-02+to+Putian+034.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That means that the last twenty-four hours, definitely among
the happiest, wildest, and most memorable of the trip, have cost me exactly:
NOTHING. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think I’m getting the hang of this. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
----------------------------</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I had written.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, the following day, a vegetable vendor gave me a
carrot, a tomato, a cuke, and a stalk of celery for free.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aYxzB3gRsQ0/UJ0Bs-BmLVI/AAAAAAAACIM/0Jcubr-THT4/s1600/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aYxzB3gRsQ0/UJ0Bs-BmLVI/AAAAAAAACIM/0Jcubr-THT4/s640/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+006.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Chronologically but not thematically appropriate interlude: Road made of about 20% potholes. Apparently this is one stage of road construction. I have no idea how it could possibly be useful. I am sure it didn't do my precious little spokes any good." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DFgmQk_fuIA/UJ0BtQi9r4I/AAAAAAAACIY/0g3_A81GQ64/s1600/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DFgmQk_fuIA/UJ0BtQi9r4I/AAAAAAAACIY/0g3_A81GQ64/s640/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+009.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That evening, while I was preparing to pitch my tent at a temple on the coast, two high schoolers invited me back to their house to sleep and cooked me dinner.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GkITfgqysE4/UJ0BuaANRZI/AAAAAAAACIg/dPPtqISRjo8/s1600/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GkITfgqysE4/UJ0BuaANRZI/AAAAAAAACIg/dPPtqISRjo8/s640/2012-11-03+to+Donglingzhen+019.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thanks, guys!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zmtCianl9cY/UJ0BvbbPiMI/AAAAAAAACIk/97WfmcICIQQ/s1600/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zmtCianl9cY/UJ0BvbbPiMI/AAAAAAAACIk/97WfmcICIQQ/s640/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nice crib!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Win8rbbfidY/UJ0Bx6F2vzI/AAAAAAAACJA/xoqyyOoi2BI/s1600/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Win8rbbfidY/UJ0Bx6F2vzI/AAAAAAAACJA/xoqyyOoi2BI/s640/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+009.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To remember me by.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IFI3grBqyHY/UJ0BygDzPfI/AAAAAAAACJI/-rAuT_Ac_M8/s1600/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IFI3grBqyHY/UJ0BygDzPfI/AAAAAAAACJI/-rAuT_Ac_M8/s640/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+011.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next day, a group of 26 cyclists bought me lunch. When I tried to make a joke about how their
barley tea was the same stuff used to make beer, they misunderstood and bought
me two cans of beer. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Later that afternoon, when I suffered yet another spoke
problem on the road, a kind group of
cyclists let me load my bags into their car, stick my bike on their roof rack,
and borrow the bike it replaced to ride back to their hometown (50km), where
they took me to a bike shop for a free repair, then took me out to dinner, then
paid for my hotel room. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kCjgG07Ax7s/UJ0B0QeoF2I/AAAAAAAACJY/E4BgUgESWAA/s1600/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kCjgG07Ax7s/UJ0B0QeoF2I/AAAAAAAACJY/E4BgUgESWAA/s640/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+015.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thanks, boss. He typed something into his phone and showed it to me: "My dream is to retire early and travel the world." My response: sell your store and do it NOW!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PIVna0CPvgw/UJ0BzvPQaUI/AAAAAAAACJQ/x9HdovDarKc/s1600/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PIVna0CPvgw/UJ0BzvPQaUI/AAAAAAAACJQ/x9HdovDarKc/s640/2012-11-04+to+Shishi+013.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No idea how this got on the menu.....</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What a frickin’ week!
And from tomorrow I’m couchsurfing…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rxREUqfky9w/UJ0B1YcBzxI/AAAAAAAACJg/35FaE7ZLyq0/s1600/2012-11-05+to+Jimei+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rxREUqfky9w/UJ0B1YcBzxI/AAAAAAAACJg/35FaE7ZLyq0/s640/2012-11-05+to+Jimei+003.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
Yes, I think I would like to go there. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ekfF4pXeYow/UJ0B2f10l2I/AAAAAAAACJk/wqPuX3KjkYw/s1600/2012-11-05+to+Jimei+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ekfF4pXeYow/UJ0B2f10l2I/AAAAAAAACJk/wqPuX3KjkYw/s640/2012-11-05+to+Jimei+007.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
A quality afternoon: getting some rest, getting some reading done, and letting my squishy crotch pad and stanky towel get some breeze. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
On to meet my couchsurfing host, Michael, who bought me several meals and somehow managed to get me a room on the third floor of a police station. <br />
<br />
Then over to the island of Gulang Yu to meet Keith and Janet, who run the free "Mushishi" Hostel. Finally, some real Chinese hippies. Keith says: "Most Chinese people don't know what the point of living is." Amen, brother. Let's go play some frisbee!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pSqsupP9Bgk/UJ0CBcvdQ9I/AAAAAAAACKw/05zmNpwMNJk/s1600/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pSqsupP9Bgk/UJ0CBcvdQ9I/AAAAAAAACKw/05zmNpwMNJk/s640/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+043.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XYJ7wBZiUiA/UJ0B4AsbUiI/AAAAAAAACJ0/YIRdQS5V30w/s1600/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XYJ7wBZiUiA/UJ0B4AsbUiI/AAAAAAAACJ0/YIRdQS5V30w/s640/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3utcMJMpqSY/UJ0B45b_JtI/AAAAAAAACKE/H-I-AaCZstk/s1600/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3utcMJMpqSY/UJ0B45b_JtI/AAAAAAAACKE/H-I-AaCZstk/s640/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+004.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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For the graffitti<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Kw1t5uYX8Mw/UJ0B6CO6rpI/AAAAAAAACKI/v7qjQDQq1_I/s1600/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Kw1t5uYX8Mw/UJ0B6CO6rpI/AAAAAAAACKI/v7qjQDQq1_I/s640/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+005.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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This guitar belongs to the "Folk King," one of the other guests at the hostel. He quit his engineering job to tour around the country trying to be the Chinese Bob Dylan. He still goes home every second or third week to see his parents, though. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mwwX8-jCWQQ/UJ0B7ZfeZrI/AAAAAAAACKQ/iyqO1y25UHE/s1600/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mwwX8-jCWQQ/UJ0B7ZfeZrI/AAAAAAAACKQ/iyqO1y25UHE/s640/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+014.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Cat's aren't very popular in China. But Keith and Janet have 4 living on their roof. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cyT7zCz58go/UJ0B99CtXEI/AAAAAAAACKg/nhg20b_RwdI/s1600/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cyT7zCz58go/UJ0B99CtXEI/AAAAAAAACKg/nhg20b_RwdI/s640/2012-11-07+to+Jimei+036.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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We came across a crew filming a spoof: OPPA GULANG STYLE. Check it out on youtube in a few months. <br />
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A homemade lunch with the other hostelers. I tried to pay for the ingredients at the supermarket, but they wouldn't let me. Also, I kind of fell in love with the girl on the left for a day. </div>
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Sneak peek!</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Cost for the whole week: $30. yeahhhhhhhh!</span></b></div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-19792264402503400962012-11-11T05:07:00.000-08:002012-11-11T05:07:00.126-08:00One of the Worst Things That Can Happen (to a bicycle) Finally Does, and It’s Not All That Bad<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Before leaving Korea, I made sure to prepare for just about
any and all possible road eventualities.
I have shirts for different situations and temperatures. I have Tupperware for my leftovers. I have a spare tube and not one but TWO
pumps. Several extra pairs of brake
pads, brake cables, and gear cables. A
decoy wallet filled with expired cards. Beastly
tires that can roll right on over shards of glass. A Steripen © UV Water Sterlizer. And so on. </div>
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One thing I didn’t furnish myself with, though, was extra
spokes. Primarily because I wouldn’t
have a clue what to do with them, and also because I figured the chance of
needing them would be pretty low – after all, how many people are even aware
that the spokes do anything, anyway?
That negligence came back today and gave me a big, swift kick in the
junk.</div>
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Like any other day, I was riding along taking delight in the
scenery. I’m currently roaming around
Fujian, a province of China that I had never seen on a menu and so never knew
existed until I realized I had to pass through it. Nothing against the other provinces, of course,
but the Fujian countryside really is wonderful.
It’s full of hills, which means that it’s underdeveloped and
underpopulated and what buildings there are small enough that they don’t
overshadow their surroundings. The hills
all max out at about 300 meters, so the climbs are short and not too
intense. All the wet and warmth of the
subtropical climate make plants go wild; whereas the forests up North were all
pretty clearly man-planted, the ones down here are lush and varied and
overflowing and awe-inspiring. Slender,
solitary bamboo stalks shooting ten meters up into the air, Banyan trees
lowering their tentacles, Banana tree leaves bigger than my body. And a river runs through it, too: the
Minjiang, as wide as the parts of the Yangtze and Yellow rivers that I saw, but
clearer and with less traffic. My belly
was full of chow mein, the previous day’s rainclouds had vanished, and the cars
were few and far between. In other
words, it was a perfect day. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6mx3rdhij-Y/UJz-at21l6I/AAAAAAAACEg/U0_dk9l3K3k/s1600/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6mx3rdhij-Y/UJz-at21l6I/AAAAAAAACEg/U0_dk9l3K3k/s640/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+003.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oNCJObO6lxs/UJz-ZlicFgI/AAAAAAAACEY/W0caG0n_OjQ/s1600/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oNCJObO6lxs/UJz-ZlicFgI/AAAAAAAACEY/W0caG0n_OjQ/s640/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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(I wish I had taken more pictures of the scenery, but I thought I had all day ahead of me...)</div>
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Until I heard a giant TWANG! Like a piano string
snapping. I knew immediately what had
happened, since there’s only one part on the bicycle that can make that
noise. A quick look down confirmed it:
sure enough, one of the spokes on my rear wheel had snapped off at the
socket. Actually, while giving my breaks
a tune up before setting out, I had noticed that my rim wasn’t quite
straight. I had hoped that it could hold
out another 500km until I got to Taiwan and visited a bike shop near my
friends’ house where the owner speaks good English. No such luck.
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kwQvb5ITeuU/UJz-fiHkTOI/AAAAAAAACFA/jogOq4Fs8Ps/s1600/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kwQvb5ITeuU/UJz-fiHkTOI/AAAAAAAACFA/jogOq4Fs8Ps/s640/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+007.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Not good. </div>
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Worse than that, since all the spokes work together to hold
the weight of the bike, losing one is like pulling a block out from the lowest
rung of a Jenga tower. All the extra
slack has to be taken up by the other spokes, which are therefore more likely
to dislodge or bend or break, again and again in a vicious cycle. I don’t even know what would happen if half
or more of the spokes broke. Would I
even be able to push the bicycle along?</div>
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Totally at a loss, I dismounted myself and all my bags and
sat down on the side of the road for a few minutes. A
road-cleaning crew came by and informed me that my only choice was to double
back to a village about 5km down the mountain I had been climbing. I really
didn’t want to get back on the bike for fear of doing permanent damage to the
rim, but aside from taking my chance with hitchhiking for the next 120 km, I
didn’t see what I could do. I popped
back on and just as I made it to the village a second TWANG rang out. Another spoke had snapped and then managed to
get itself twisted around inside of the rear gear cassette. Fortunately, I was right in front of a police
station and was able to get directions to a bike shop nearby. Unfortunately, the mechanic didn’t have any
spokes. Least fortunately, she also told
me that the only bus to Fuzhou, the capital of the province, left at 7:30 the
following morning.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CdheacTZoQY/UJz-edC-REI/AAAAAAAACE4/n5bxxONQ6xs/s1600/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CdheacTZoQY/UJz-edC-REI/AAAAAAAACE4/n5bxxONQ6xs/s640/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+006.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I would prefer it if this spoke were: a)straight and b) attached to my rim, please. </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oaeMLuXes50/UJz-dIJLgNI/AAAAAAAACEw/W0xntIpJoZM/s1600/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oaeMLuXes50/UJz-dIJLgNI/AAAAAAAACEw/W0xntIpJoZM/s640/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+005.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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That's not right.</div>
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I pushed the bike ever-so-gingerly back to the police
station to ask what to do next. Eager to
help, one of the officers brought out a pair of pliers and suggested that I
take one of the snapped spokes and twist it around the functioning ones. Surely that would do the trick and allow me
to ride all the way to Fuzhou. Once I
had convinced him that I couldn’t even ride the bicycle for one kilometer in
that state, he told me that I had no choice but to hitchhike.</div>
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Thankfully, within about thirty minutes a guy with an empty
minivan came by and offered to take me to the next town with bus service to
Fuzhou, about 40km away. Some heated
bartering ensued as I heartlessly talked him down to 70Y from his initial offer
of 100, and then some awkward riding time as he responded to my comments about
the scenery by screaming and cackling and doing his best “mad gunman at the top
of the mountain shooting randomly at the villagers below” impression, if that’s
what it was. He dropped me off where he
said he would, though, and didn’t give me any trouble about the price in the
end. I resumed my hitchhiking until the
luxury bus came by and charged me another 80Y (more than the price of my 450km
train journey two nights before!). </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MTC7V7iQPMs/UJz-cEQB-EI/AAAAAAAACEs/jI2Qmu1tK5E/s1600/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MTC7V7iQPMs/UJz-cEQB-EI/AAAAAAAACEs/jI2Qmu1tK5E/s640/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+004.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vFZQXmNpYn0/UJz-g4nx5ZI/AAAAAAAACFI/NtZ3Ek00pOs/s1600/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vFZQXmNpYn0/UJz-g4nx5ZI/AAAAAAAACFI/NtZ3Ek00pOs/s640/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+008.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Not pictured: my despair.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w9niUfH1XFE/UJz-iGhyfUI/AAAAAAAACFU/76j-0TX9KAM/s1600/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w9niUfH1XFE/UJz-iGhyfUI/AAAAAAAACFU/76j-0TX9KAM/s640/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+011.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Might as well have a good time, eh?</div>
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A few hours later the bus reached Fuzhou, and after about an
hour of pushing my bike around following the Chinese version of GoogleMaps, I
finally found a bicycle shop that could help me out. I had a little chat with the boss, received a
lesson on spoke maintenance from the mechanic, got my back gears a much needed
cleaning, and only had to pay a pittance (20Y) for parts – calling me “Xiongdi”
(brother) they comped the labor, even though the job they did would have cost
me at least 30 bucks in Korea! </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i-e4p520GWY/UJz-jaZyVkI/AAAAAAAACFc/dw4fZSOno80/s1600/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i-e4p520GWY/UJz-jaZyVkI/AAAAAAAACFc/dw4fZSOno80/s640/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+013.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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So, now I’m here, having spent more in one day than in an
average week on the road, and yet I still probably came out ahead
money-wise. Better yet, I’m ahead of
schedule and my bike that feels newer than the day I bought it. I’ve also got a few more “brothers,” even more
love for China, a bit more knowledge about the bike, and some more spare parts
to see me through my next emergency. And,
lastly, the confidence that comes from seeing a nightmare come true but working
through it and making it to the other side unscathed. Lesson learned.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uyz8haEHTjc/UJz-kYCesRI/AAAAAAAACFg/Z2X3LiBCDPQ/s1600/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uyz8haEHTjc/UJz-kYCesRI/AAAAAAAACFg/Z2X3LiBCDPQ/s640/2012-10-31+to+Fuzhou+015.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-82089205472501329292012-11-09T04:57:00.000-08:002012-11-09T04:57:39.166-08:00Week 9: New Beginnings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Hello, friends!</div>
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Wow, it’s been ten days or more since I’ve had an internet
connection decent enough to do anything more than read a few emails. What follows is a mess of fragments composed and
updated at various points since the last one.
I’m afraid most of the events and feelings are already too distant for
me to want to organize them properly. Blogging
is definitely among the most frustrating parts of the trip so far, perhaps
second only to trying to learn the goddamn harmonica. I am pretty sure my brain is built for
language, not for music. Maybe once I
finish writing this I’ll try playing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” one more
time.</div>
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As the weeks go on, this begins to feel less like a trip and
more like normal life, insofar as there’s no end in sight and I’m in no
particular hurry to come to one. It also
feels abnormal, in the sense that even relatively crappy days are still
objectively awesome and I have hardly a care in the world. Over the past two weeks or so, I’ve run into
the following milestones:</div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I’m in my EIGTH province (six at the time of the
first draft): For the record, they are: Liaoning, Hebei, Beijing, Shanxi,
Henan, Hubei, Jiangxi, and now Fujian. Several provinces are bigger than certain
other countries, so I feel like it’s appropriate for me to say I’ve been to
twenty countries now. </div>
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</span><!--[endif]-->The corn fields have been replaced by rice
paddies. Most have already been
harvested, so every day I witness lots of great scenes of farmers setting hay
on fire or of cows and ducks gently plodding along nibbling on whatever they
can find. </div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I’ve hit, and then passed through, persimmon
paradise, where you can get ten for a dollar when the price is right. Who needs dessert or candy when ripe, squishy
persimmons are overrunning the streets?</div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I survived both my first road cold and my first
road accident, a collision caused when Mingyu swerved to avoid a bus and I
smacked right into him. My bike and I
took a topple, but fortunately no damage was done. </div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Tropical fruits – mangosteens, mangoes,
pineapples, pomeloes, dragon fruits, longans – have been making their
appearance. Unfortunately, the pomeloes
are always wrapped in plastic even though they have a hearty, near-impentrable
rind. What’s the deal, people? </div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->My odometer has passed the utterly arbitrary
3333, 3434, 3456, 3500, and 4000 marks (I told you this post was a long time in
the making)</div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I’ve seen, passed over, ridden along, and
urinated off a bridge into the Yangtze River.</div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I’ve done my first Chinese hitchhike, and an
utterly spontaneous one at that. I met
up with Belinda, an old friend and coworker who lives in the area now, and we
took a trip out to some ancient villages nearby. Getting there required a taxi, a bus, a more
rural bus, and another taxi, and about three hours. We poked around the villages for a while and
then, on the way out, I made some random (good natured) gestures to a couple in
a car in the parking lot. They beckoned
us over, invited us in, and let us mooch a ride back to the big city we had
come from, all the while feeding us apples and yogurt, teaching me how to
compliment pretty ladies in Nanchang dialect, and asking begging me to sing “My
Heart Will Go On.” Needless to say, the
ride was quite a bit more interesting than the village itself. </div>
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</span><!--[endif]-->My bike and I have survived our first bus
rides. I was really hoping not to use
any fossil fuels on the whole trip, but the roads were so terrible that I
wouldn’t have made it to Nanchang in time to see Belinda had I insisted on cycling
all the way. I don’t quite know how, but
I managed to get the bicycle strapped to the bus’ roof rack for the first ride,
gritting my teeth with every pothole, praying that nothing would fall apart. That bus dropped me off about halfway to
Nanchang, so I switched to another, the driver of which refused to let me stow
my bike beneath the bus, but said it was OK to bring it into the bus and leave
it in the aisle. I wasn’t about to
argue. </div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Mingyu and I have bid each other a temporary
adieu. I have about two weeks left on my
visa, but the only boat to Taiwan leaves in a week or so, meaning I’ve got to
get down to Xiamen, a port city in the south, pretty much ASAP. Mingyu, on the other hand, still has 45 days
or so left on his visa, so he’s going to roam China on his own for a bit and
meet me in Taiwan in December. </div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span>I've also survived my first train ride. I originally thought Xiamen was 450km from
Nanchang, but in reality it’s about 1000, which I doubt I could cover in a
week, even if conditions are good. So,
with much help from Achuan and Mingyu, I packed up my bike and took a night
train from Nanchang to Nanping, covering about half the distance. I was worried about my bike getting
scratched, ogled, and stolen, but pretty much as soon as I got onto the train,
I ran into the cabin master (judging by his admiral stripes, at least), who
helped me find a safe spot where I could lock the bike to a banister, and also
let me move into a nearly empty cabin nearby so that I could keep an eye on
everything all at once. A bunch of the
staff congregated and gave me free pomelo slices and tofu jerky as we talked
about my trip, my impressions of China, etc.
When it got late they moved me to another empty cabin, so that instead
of sleeping in the single seat in the smoky, musty, noisy, stuffed cabin that I
had paid for, I was able to stretch out across three seats in peace and quiet,
all by my lonesome. </div>
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The Admiral. </div>
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It was about two weeks ago that the
compartmentalizing part of my brain has declared that we’ve now entered stage
three. First was Beijing and getting
acclimated to it all. Second was meeting
Xiang Liang and enjoying his humor, bizarrity, and all the weirdness that The
Road flung our way. Now we’re nearly
nine weeks in and things are changing again</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2QUoIeOsEHo/UIQnRwYUvTI/AAAAAAAACAI/VSR2hK9Mrmw/s1600/2012-10-18+to+Luohe+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2QUoIeOsEHo/UIQnRwYUvTI/AAAAAAAACAI/VSR2hK9Mrmw/s640/2012-10-18+to+Luohe+002.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A few days ago, we shared an emotional (by cycle vagabond
dude standards) goodbye with Xiang, who hopped on a bus to Wuhan and then
planned to take a boat down the river to his home in Sichuan before going back
to Beijing to reenter the world of work and jobs and all that stuff that I’ve
left behind, at least for the time being.
On the night before we split up, before buying me and Mingyu a giant hotpot
dinner, Xiang took us a park, sat us down on a bench, and interviewed us on
video so that he could later transcribe and share our philosophies (if that’s
what you call them). He asked questions
like “What do you want from this trip?
Why are you doing it? Do you
think of it as a vacation or as your life?
What do you want to tell your friends back home about China?” I found it interesting that though we hadn’t
talked about such things over any of our many meals or drinks together, it felt
natural to talk about them while sitting in front of some recording
equipment. I doubt my answers will
surprise anyone who reads this blog regularly, but I’ll try to post it if I
ever get a chance. </div>
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The next morning, just hours after we parted ways with
Xiang, we made a new friend heading our same way: “Ah Chuan.” Like Xiang, he’s Chinese and, as with Xiang,
we met him by chance on the road during the first days of his trip; the
similarity ends there. He speaks no
English, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t drink, is shorter than me, and likes to ride
like there’s no tomorrow. With Xiang, we
were riding about 60km a day, and the average would be significantly lower if I
added in all the days that we didn’t ride at all. Ah Chuan, on the other hand, has a goal of
140 which, though pretty much a physical impossibility for me and Mingyu, is
noble and respectable and I’m trying to live up to it. We’ve done 80, 90, 80, 110, 120, 100, 80, and
80 over the past days and I’m still ticking, though my left Achilles tendon has
started to tighten up. </div>
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He’s also brought another sort of spice to the voyage: merch! On the way to find a hotel in the town of
Xinyang the other night, I heard him asking locals whether there was a college
nearby. I didn’t really have a clue
until what he was up to until after we had washed up and he took us out for a
stroll, first to the school cafeteria (awesome food, super cheap, but way too
much plastic. Just use trays, people!)
and then to do a little busking (is this
real English or just Konglish? I don’t have
any idea) on the street. He pulled a
canvas sheet out of his sack, lay it down, and set down a variety of little
knick-knacks to sell. Ah Chuan started
hawking, Mingyu broke out his Ukelele, and I stood around more or less
uselessly, wishing I could play something or recite poems or juggle or just
about anything. Within about five
minutes, a couple of English majors had come up to me to talk, while a few shy
folks just hung around listening and giggling.
Every thirty seconds or so another person or pair would stop by, until
soon I was surrounded – literally, there were even people standing in rows
behind me – by fifty or more college students (90% girls, my lord) each taking
turns shouting out questions like “What’s your name? Where are you from? How long have you been here? When are you
leaving? Aren’t you cold just wearing shorts?” And the like. The more courageous among them even ventured
to ask stuff like “Why are you traveling?
Why do it by bicycle? What about money?
What about the future? What do
you think happiness is? What’s the most important thing in your life?” I dare you to try to answer those questions
using less than seven words per sentence and less than four syllables per word
without feeling like a total idiot. Thankfully,
I was able to stop talking for a minute when a pair of girls walked by carrying
a 6-foot long zither (look it up, I didn’t know what it was either!) and
offered to give me a lesson there in front of everyone. I made a fool of myself, but thanks to the
power of my beard and all my highfalutin nonsense about “freedom,” I got a pity
ovation anyhow. I can tell that this
stopping at colleges thing is going to become a staple of our routine. So many students are friendly and speak good
English, so it’s a great way to relieve the monotony of riding, eating, and
sleeping day in and day out with the same folks.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZlsC85lzF28/UIQskV_Jt0I/AAAAAAAACBM/fWgRnqvT7e0/s1600/2012-10-20+to+Xinyang+017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZlsC85lzF28/UIQskV_Jt0I/AAAAAAAACBM/fWgRnqvT7e0/s640/2012-10-20+to+Xinyang+017.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I was just as popular as Achuan, I swear! But there was nobody to take pictures of me. Except the horde of students, that is. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gySf-JqeaW4/UIQszv-GIAI/AAAAAAAACBU/GVmZHgDk4xY/s1600/2012-10-20+to+Xinyang+029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gySf-JqeaW4/UIQszv-GIAI/AAAAAAAACBU/GVmZHgDk4xY/s640/2012-10-20+to+Xinyang+029.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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One of several folks lucky to walk away with a high-quality, one of a kind MINGYULEE (c) caricature.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b6hrbkzxlVc/UIQtR3GFFOI/AAAAAAAACBc/MG00WUYu3mE/s1600/2012-10-20+to+Xinyang+033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b6hrbkzxlVc/UIQtR3GFFOI/AAAAAAAACBc/MG00WUYu3mE/s640/2012-10-20+to+Xinyang+033.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Winding down.</div>
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$$$$$$$$$$$$$$!</div>
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(The next day!)</div>
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Then, today, one of these moods hit me, this feeling like I
came out of a tunnel or over a mountain and suddenly everything was bright and
new and beautiful again. Surely the
scenery has something to do with it; as cliché as it may be, the hills are
truly rolling gently, kilometer after kilometer. The ups aren’t quite steep enough to really
make me work, but the downs get me going fast enough to get a bit of a rush. The houses seem to be just the right size,
fitting in with rather than overpowering the surrounding landscape. Then there’s also the weather - here’s just
enough humidity in the air to keep my chest warm, just enough of a breeze to
keep my face cool, and the fog makes everything feel like it’s moving in
slow-motion. </div>
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More than that, though, every person I exchange smiles with,
every bite I eat, every tree I pass seems to fill me. It feels natural to add “with joy” to the end
of that sentence, but it’s something less evanescent, something more
fundamental, something that colors everything else. Every bit of scenery – including the human -
is so picturesque that I can’t stop riding to take pictures, lest I miss
something just down the road. A little
boy, pants down around his ankles, chasing a walnut around his driveway. A little girl, sitting on a rock at least as
big as she was, singing “Happy Birthday to You” to nobody in particular as I
pass by. Road crews filling potholes
with asphalt, bricklayers putting houses together, men and women spending their
afternoons playing cards or just chatting in front of their shops. A flock of
chickens roaming through a fallow field, sparrows chirping as they jump out of
my path, a wasp on collision course with my face darting out of the way at the
very last moment (to much mutual benefit!), even a pack of flies buzzing off
from their poo feast when I whiz by. These
moments are at once so mundane that photographs seem pointless and so bursting
with beauty that photographs don’t feel up to the job. Of course I want to remember all these sights
and feelings, and to convey them, but it occurs to me that maybe the best thing
I can do towards that end to is to devote my full attention to them, live them
as deeply as I can, absorb them, and let them change me in whatever ways the
will. That way, I won’t have to remember
them. I’ll simply <i>be </i>them. </div>
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Whew, what a bunch of mumbo jumbo! Toooooo much noise! For those who just want to see some goddamn
pictures:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3FhTaWEE39k/UIQpa12SnXI/AAAAAAAACAg/4V9h2N2XvsM/s1600/2012-10-19+to+Queshan+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3FhTaWEE39k/UIQpa12SnXI/AAAAAAAACAg/4V9h2N2XvsM/s640/2012-10-19+to+Queshan+003.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Random adventure with Achuan. It was too late to find a camping spot, so we pitched our tents under an eave in this village. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--ImABVcdL4k/UIQo3vliVQI/AAAAAAAACAY/qQ0C2tKcTbM/s1600/2012-10-18+to+Luohe+023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--ImABVcdL4k/UIQo3vliVQI/AAAAAAAACAY/qQ0C2tKcTbM/s640/2012-10-18+to+Luohe+023.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Before long, we were invited down a back alley where we found a table of grub and Chinese vodka (Bai jiu, "white alcohol,") waiting for us. Just a whiff of the stuff is enough to make one want to vom. When I said I was vegetarian, the guy holding the camera got up, went to the kitchen, and came back with two heads of broccoli, asking whether I liked it. When I gave him the affirmative, he went ahead and made me a stir-fry. Chinese people rule. </span></div>
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Not one of the best roads we've come across.<br />
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Nothing beats a post-lunch nap in the woods. EXCEPT AN AIRBORNE, BUG-FREE NAP IN THE WOODS. <br />
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This is what I wake up to in the mornings. Ughhhhhh...<br />
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Sheep grazing where a river once was.<br />
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Some nice scenery in the middle of nowhere.<br />
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One of the most beautiful, tranquil mornings of the trip. Thirty minutes of scenery like this is easily worth three days of traffic.<br />
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What you lookin at?<br />
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These ladies cooked me some noodles but didn't charged me. And, they gave me a largish bag of clementines. </div>
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And this one gave me a loofa to use to do my dishes. Thanks, boss, for helping make my hippie dreams come true!<br />
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Peppers drying on a rattan sheet in a village.<br />
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Monster gourd.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fM0UnHHRht4/UJz40sB88CI/AAAAAAAACD0/G4Ls_Uug_HE/s1600/2012-10-26+to+Nanchang+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fM0UnHHRht4/UJz40sB88CI/AAAAAAAACD0/G4Ls_Uug_HE/s640/2012-10-26+to+Nanchang+002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Bus station pups.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q_YEW_1c_X0/UI36lvdEA5I/AAAAAAAACCo/PKRd6H4MORQ/s1600/2012-10-23+to+Huangshi+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q_YEW_1c_X0/UI36lvdEA5I/AAAAAAAACCo/PKRd6H4MORQ/s640/2012-10-23+to+Huangshi+001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I love you too, China. </div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-2357432754266023702012-10-20T05:51:00.000-07:002012-10-20T05:51:00.298-07:00Week 8 Shenanigans<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Yet another pack of cyclists we ran into along the way to Zhengzhou.<br />
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Our Warm Showers host, Mr. Wang, editor of "Zhengzhou Cyclists News" magazine and VP of the "Zhengzhou Old People Cyclists Association." 65 and still a strong rider! As well as letting us filthy up his place, he cooked us dinner, the centerpiece of which was goose-face soup. <br />
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He also broke out the good beer - some German variety that came in a can bigger than my head. <br />
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The next day, we were off to meet Shi Peng, a weird Karma connection of Xiang Liang's. A while ago Xiang Liang found a phone on a bus in Beijing and became friends with the owner, Shi Peng's wife, when he returned it to her. Shi Peng runs an interesting sort of business that does military-style team building workshops for company retreats and is a hardcore outdoorsman in general, so in addition to being somewhat indebted to Xiang, he was also enthusiastic about our trip. <br />
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So, in an incredible show of generosity, he took us under his wing for the entire weekend, chauferring us around and introducing us to people and footing the bill for every single moment of it. First, he and his father drove us out to Kaifeng, the ancient capital, for some sightseeing.<br />
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Kaifeng in the evening<br />
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Xiang insisted we take this picture at the entrance to the Henan museum in Zhengzhou.<br />
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Some of the first-ever Chinese characters! Inscribed on a tortoise shell, used for divining the future. <br />
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Apparently one reason that ancient Chinese is still so well understood is that for whatever reason there was a tradition of carving stories about certain rites and rituals into durable objects like this one. <br />
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A funeral suit made of jade tiles stitched together with silver and gold strings. <br />
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Statue of two people playing the ancient "liubo" game, the rules to which have been lost.<br />
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A radish carved out of ivory.<br />
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I didn't know I was capable of making that face.<br />
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Breakfast with the crew the next morning before mountain climbing. <br />
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I defied the "no climbing" sign. Then, on my way scrambling down, I accidentally broke off a hefty chunk of rock. That one on the left that is kind of protruding. So much for protecting humanity's natural heritage.<br />
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My new Chinese name is "Wang Mai Ke". "Wang" means king, so kind of stands in for Roy, while the other two are phonetic, but mean something like taking steps and overcoming challenges. <br />
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A big group of college girls requested that I grace them with my presence for a brief photo shoot. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xiJOUETukKY/UH42-RI8q5I/AAAAAAAAB8A/XaHOWNQEv-I/s1600/2012-10-15+Zhengzhou+Company+Meal+004.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xiJOUETukKY/UH42-RI8q5I/AAAAAAAAB8A/XaHOWNQEv-I/s1600/2012-10-15+Zhengzhou+Company+Meal+004.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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While riding into town several days prior, we had exchanged phone numbers with two cyclists who liked our style. They called us on Monday just as we were about to leave town and invited us to their company meal<br />
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Mingyu and I had seats at the head of the table next to the chairman. Also, next to the stinky tofu. After I politely declined to partake, he told me I was wasting my trip in China if I didn't eat it. Sorry, not convinced.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X7pMJTqxlOk/UH42usFbXLI/AAAAAAAAB7w/MS_yWmrhr8w/s1600/2012-10-16+to+Changge+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X7pMJTqxlOk/UH42usFbXLI/AAAAAAAAB7w/MS_yWmrhr8w/s640/2012-10-16+to+Changge+006.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A traveling opera was performing just outside where we stopped for lunch. The dancers were a little confused and the stage looked like it was ready to collapse in on itself at any moment. We only stayed for the first act, which was, to be generous, slightly painful to listen to. <br />
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But seeing all these old folks was really heartwarming. They all looked so...grizzled. I can't imagine what they must have lived through.</div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-9557121831625496552012-10-18T23:35:00.000-07:002012-10-18T23:35:00.229-07:00Week 7 Sightseeing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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After our short-lived stint with the big biker family, we returned to life as usual: getting a late start, eating a giant lunch, napping in forests, and quitting early in the evenings. <br />
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Here's how Mingyu and I entertained ourselves while Xiang was off doing hotel recon. <br />
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We continued through the mountains of Shanxi, with a few more brutal ascents tempered by occasional Eureka-moments, like this treasure-trove of jujubes that must have fallen off of a truck. Had we gotten there about a week earlier, we could have feasted. Instead, though, everything was a little on the mealy, nearly-fermented side. <br />
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More awesome views as we dropped about 800m in altitude coming out of Shanxi and into Henan.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LNm9JlicCmI/UH4ywOBP0MI/AAAAAAAAB4s/owgz9yJaMj4/s1600/2012-10-07+to+Jili+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LNm9JlicCmI/UH4ywOBP0MI/AAAAAAAAB4s/owgz9yJaMj4/s640/2012-10-07+to+Jili+010.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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I've got tears in my pants, holes in my shirts, and all the little sesame seed guys are falling off of my gloves. <br />
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We stopped one morning at a bike shop and were treated to a free tune-up. The shop owner's son was wearing this shirt, straight out of a Buddhist parable. The English is remarkably not totally terrible, no?<br />
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Next stop: the Longmen Grottoes, a Unesco World Heritage site just outside of Luoyang. For a little over a mile on both sides of a river, the hills have been carved like this, hollowed out and then inlaid with carvings of Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and other characters of Buddhist lore. </div>
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In some places, the carvings are incredibly detailed and minuscule <br />
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Others are nearly twenty meters tall. </div>
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Back to the road again for some nice, flat riding and scenes of idyllic farm work. Well, as long as you're just watching.<br />
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Crossing the famous Yellow River. <br />
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Xiang Liang is a true kindred vagabond spirit. <br />
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Having returned to somewhat more reasonable altitudes, we were able to break out the tents again. <br />
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A nice chill night - salad for dinner, card games for fun, and a reused water bottle of homemade wine some farmers on the street sold me for $1.50.<br />
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Why camping rules.<br />
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The next morning we headed to the Shaolin Temple, basis for that old TV show Kung-fu. The temple itself was not particularly impressive, but all over the surrounding area were these schools where kids between 4 and 18 studied and trained. We were lucky enough to pass by during training time. These little kids were running, drilling, and tumbling like you wouldn't believe. <br />
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Ripped.<br />
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Imagine how strong they'll be if they do this every day for ten years. <br />
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Another nap in the park next to the temple. <br />
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Actually it wasn't the temple that I wanted to see, but the cave where (legend has it) Bodhidharma stared at his shadow and meditated for nine years until he finally got it and invented zen. I felt a little bit like a silly tourist for paying the entrance fee to the complex and going up this long climb when I could have probably understood more about Zen by just meditating that morning, but then again, why pass it up?<br />
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In an effort to try to feel a little less bovine,* I climbed the steps barefoot and tried to do a little walking meditation. Token gestures. That's the cave behind me; I though it would be a little sacrilegious to take a photo of the inside. All it was, though, was a space about 5x5 square feet, with a statue of the BD up on a pedestal in the back and a place to bow and light incense in front. <br />
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Monk.<br />
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Up to the top of the hill to check out this statue of BD. <br />
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*I owe this word to DFW - I'll post the relevant passage here eventually. </div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-73622587789790139742012-10-16T22:03:00.000-07:002012-10-16T22:03:16.369-07:00Week 7 and 8 Eats<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Note: I'm trying out a new format here because trying to coordinate several blocked websites at once is, surprise, a giant hassle. <div>
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The day-in and day-out face-stuffing continues! We have yet to enter the tropics, so there's nothing very exotic in terms of fruits and veggies here, but we continue to run into cheap, delicious food at just about every corner. I wish cycling were more difficult so that I could burn more calories riding and fuel up bigger during breaks, but my body seems to have adjusted to the wear and tear. I think I'm actually eating less now than I was when I was just sitting around Daegu doing nothing. Weird, but anyhow, everything rules! And, my re-commitment to veganism has so far been pretty easy. Aside from the goat brain fiasco. <br /><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-24710423619102231212012-10-13T16:26:00.000-07:002012-10-13T16:26:00.186-07:00En Masse<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It started like any other day in Shanxi province: alternating between grueling uphills in low gear and freewheeling descents. Alternating between pure, untouched (except for the road, of course) nature and giant, dirty-ass coal factories spewing stuff into the air. Between totally empty, serene landscapes and coal-truck traffic jams. Arghhhh.<br />
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One highlight, though: 2500km!<br />
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Then we ran into a pack of 22 Chinese cyclists on holiday (everyone just had a week off) at a junction where we expected there to be a hotel but there was instead nothing. So we joined up, followed them down about 10km to the hostel they reserved, and got to business. Our first taste Bai jiu ("White Booze," aka Chinese Vodka, 100 proof)! A warm welcome I could've done without!<br />
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Madness ensues! Group shots on chants of one, two, HEY!!!! One cup of bai jiu and ten cups of pi jiu (beer) later...<br />
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Much merriment and total stupefaction at the implausibility of our encounter. We've now known each other for the better part of 30 minutes.<br />
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Still, good times and good grub. <br />
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The next morning, up at 6:00 to ride. Somehow nobody appears hungover or resentful of the pack. Am I the only introvert here?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBHo2t-w5U4C9mnZ1MFjp0TaWScOVTqf5eeCnRCdVyj3_hBWwG1Dz3T-cpBaxgiMyhG4yrnEP4f4CIWTZ4Da9lOBrAetvvkRH5W3fTXiRFOj2aFnux0PJGdBi5aIfmoNBoON52g/s1600/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+166.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBHo2t-w5U4C9mnZ1MFjp0TaWScOVTqf5eeCnRCdVyj3_hBWwG1Dz3T-cpBaxgiMyhG4yrnEP4f4CIWTZ4Da9lOBrAetvvkRH5W3fTXiRFOj2aFnux0PJGdBi5aIfmoNBoON52g/s640/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+166.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Hangover recovery breakfast: salty bread pucks and spicy tofu soup. Double up on the cilantro, please!<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uj5olvNwq8A/UHNgCfkaqNI/AAAAAAAAB00/uwp-1xq-tzU/s1600/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uj5olvNwq8A/UHNgCfkaqNI/AAAAAAAAB00/uwp-1xq-tzU/s640/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+002.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Getting started, nice and early. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW5Ig61d_7Z6E2KwHKIU4toJTJIuhNap1xVvBhTn_mNLs1RfQiyHl9H02VLDUB3ZbBPmsuFv4mJv8Ju6jAKKa1CjEx4VSDudJC3GcaWEWjgk6SpHbZTDHFQ-NWW-p9O9DY9U8vnA/s1600/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW5Ig61d_7Z6E2KwHKIU4toJTJIuhNap1xVvBhTn_mNLs1RfQiyHl9H02VLDUB3ZbBPmsuFv4mJv8Ju6jAKKa1CjEx4VSDudJC3GcaWEWjgk6SpHbZTDHFQ-NWW-p9O9DY9U8vnA/s640/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+011.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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As the others were all only on the road for a week, staying in hotels ever night, they had substantially less gear. Ohhh my it was a rough morning.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RU8trnJ4Y4k/UHNgD1Vcl5I/AAAAAAAAB08/kRSMOZyhnvI/s1600/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RU8trnJ4Y4k/UHNgD1Vcl5I/AAAAAAAAB08/kRSMOZyhnvI/s640/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+007.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Lots of breaks for photo ops. It turns out Chinese cyclists like taking pictures of white guys in tight shorts. Who knew?<br />
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The way up was - am I overusing this word? - grueling. Two and a half hours at just under 10km/h. It was 20ish km to the top of the mountain, and we had something like an 800m altitude gain. My off-the-cuff calculations led me to the conclusion that it was about a 5% slope. In any case, steep and switchback-laden to the point that there were No Trucks Allowed. By far the most physically challenging ride of my life, but thanks to the good company, the perfect weather, and the fact that there were people much older and slower than me in the mix, my confidence and spirits were high. Totally nice ride.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jaaIk7qKZ2E/UHNgFvGALDI/AAAAAAAAB1E/3nL-9SzKEMI/s1600/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jaaIk7qKZ2E/UHNgFvGALDI/AAAAAAAAB1E/3nL-9SzKEMI/s640/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+017.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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I checked the altitude constantly, every time breaking a personal record. Here's the final shot. I don't know exactly how high it was where we slept, but I do know that we rode downhill 10km between the point where we met and the point where we slept, so I'm guessing it was at 1000m or under. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QWm4bhlWIRA/UHNgLL2MGsI/AAAAAAAAB1U/Mp0f2o_ZFAk/s1600/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QWm4bhlWIRA/UHNgLL2MGsI/AAAAAAAAB1U/Mp0f2o_ZFAk/s640/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+025.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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How I felt when I got the the top. Pure power!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PCkcfq8ncdA/UHNgINQ7X-I/AAAAAAAAB1M/MxK1bwWxugU/s1600/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PCkcfq8ncdA/UHNgINQ7X-I/AAAAAAAAB1M/MxK1bwWxugU/s320/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+020.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Group celebration! Let's spend half an hour taking a million pictures and pretend like we'll spend more than ten minutes out of the rest of our lives looking at them!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hHtrx2QKKfM/UHNfwdhRs-I/AAAAAAAABz8/AyBkpc0F4TA/s1600/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hHtrx2QKKfM/UHNfwdhRs-I/AAAAAAAABz8/AyBkpc0F4TA/s640/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+033.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Ok, calm down, let go, enjoy the moment. If they're going to make you take pictures, make it funky.. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KnJpJrjYMJY/UHNgOmHyEJI/AAAAAAAAB1k/K30YyJOEnDc/s1600/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KnJpJrjYMJY/UHNgOmHyEJI/AAAAAAAAB1k/K30YyJOEnDc/s640/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+076.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Altitude after hiking the rest of the way to the summit.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H0TtxRtVvc8/UHNgQbG9A1I/AAAAAAAAB1s/3Az1M3yfCSQ/s1600/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H0TtxRtVvc8/UHNgQbG9A1I/AAAAAAAAB1s/3Az1M3yfCSQ/s640/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+078.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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There's always time to make time for some wild foraging! Just be sure to learn how to ask the locals whether these things are edible. These were. Super-tart. A nice little pick-me-up snack for strolling around the mountain top.<br />
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View from the top. Rhetorical question: By what and what kind of benevolent forces of nature did this get made? <br />
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The ride down, as seen from above.<br />
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They go on forever. Well, if that were true, I'd still be there, and not here writing this, but you know the feeling. Or, if you don't, I hope you do, someday. Wanna come ride?<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DLeZcPDdMbk/UHNf59jAzNI/AAAAAAAAB0U/jmcMagU6lio/s1600/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DLeZcPDdMbk/UHNf59jAzNI/AAAAAAAAB0U/jmcMagU6lio/s640/2012-10-03+to+Licheng+077.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Serious switchbacks, I'm telling you.<br />
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After lunch, the waitress insists that Mingyu and I join her and a colleague for some pictures. They take us to a partitioned-off VIP section of the restaurant with a table about 10 feet across and a lazy Susan capable of feeding twenty-five or so. We sit in a throne in the corner and pretend to be kings for a five minute photo shoot.<br />
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For the record, Mingyu did some photo touchups with his photoshop skills, so his pictures are wayyyyy better. Have a look: <a href="http://mingyulee.tistory.com/123">http://mingyulee.tistory.com/123</a>.<br />
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But, I got the real jackpot! I took video for the entire 45 minute descent and then double-double-double-double sped it up and now you can enjoy the ride in all its aweosmeness. You can't smell the fresh air, hear the wind in the corn, feel the sun on your back, or enjoy the sense of being so directly dwarfed by it all, but vicarious is better than nothing, eh?<br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-74111499593423171382012-10-12T08:43:00.001-07:002012-10-12T08:43:55.580-07:00A New "Weirdest Thing I've Ever Eaten"<p>The circumstances were a little weird and I won't go into them at the moment. I'll just be as straightforward as possible. </p> <p>I ate a goat brain tonight. </p> <div>Apparently if you've got enough cilantro you can get through just about anything.</div> <div> </div> <div>To the goat: I'm sorry. I still love you and I still plan on being a vegan. Please understand. </div> Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17198921079835614264noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-89955815464162300702012-10-11T16:12:00.000-07:002012-10-11T16:12:00.188-07:00More Veg*an Treats from the Road, Weeks 5 and 6ish<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bm0YD5D9Rok/UHNU95nHgSI/AAAAAAAABwc/e--nU39uLBY/s1600/2012-09-23+Beijing+to+Daxing+011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bm0YD5D9Rok/UHNU95nHgSI/AAAAAAAABwc/e--nU39uLBY/s640/2012-09-23+Beijing+to+Daxing+011.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We all know hot pot, right? Where you dip/blanch vegetables in spicy broth that's being cooked right in front of you? That's called "huo guo", fire pot. This is its cousin and a new favorite cooking method of mine. I think it's called "gan guo," meaning "dry pot." They sautee the main stuff - in this case, lotus roots - nice and spicy in advance, then drop it on a pile of raw onions in chili oil, which cook right in front of you. The last bites are even hotter than the first! . <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ppORUzdYUCw/UHNVAtj0j7I/AAAAAAAABwo/88wnuXoLhpg/s1600/2012-09-24+to+Baoding+048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ppORUzdYUCw/UHNVAtj0j7I/AAAAAAAABwo/88wnuXoLhpg/s640/2012-09-24+to+Baoding+048.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Awesome "yue bing" moon cake pastries traditionally eaten around the autumn full moon holiday that just passed us by. These cakes are super-dense and chock full of nuts, seeds, weird little jellies, and typically 100% vegan. Plus, you can often buy them plastic-free out of big tubs. I hope they'll be in production all year round. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_K7gJdEaHqs/UHNVDTJu3MI/AAAAAAAABww/AdPyHAW3dag/s1600/2012-09-24+to+Baoding+038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_K7gJdEaHqs/UHNVDTJu3MI/AAAAAAAABww/AdPyHAW3dag/s640/2012-09-24+to+Baoding+038.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Tofu and celery gan guo.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lwxrCMusZ0g/UHNVHf2GKII/AAAAAAAABxA/spR3pM7b6zI/s1600/2012-09-25+to+Dingzhou+056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lwxrCMusZ0g/UHNVHf2GKII/AAAAAAAABxA/spR3pM7b6zI/s640/2012-09-25+to+Dingzhou+056.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Real Kung Pao Chicken, with enough vegetables and peanuts that I can pick at it.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C4IjwjOoF3E/UHNVFt9kuZI/AAAAAAAABw4/qjaC5cyak94/s1600/2012-09-25+to+Dingzhou+050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C4IjwjOoF3E/UHNVFt9kuZI/AAAAAAAABw4/qjaC5cyak94/s640/2012-09-25+to+Dingzhou+050.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Quote from Xiang Liang: "I think that if you're going to order a chicken, you should be man enough to eat the feet and heat too." Well said. Also, the sphincter.<br />
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I'm very grateful to Xiang Liang for introducing us to more and better street food. This one is "Dou fu lao," meaning tofu something. It's a big spoonful of runny tofu in salty bean broth, to which you then add your own pickled radishes, red pepper flakes, and cilantro. A steaming hot bowl at breakfast costs about twenty five or fifty cents, and along with a handful of fruit, is enough to keep me riding until lunch. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-elMnwfN0eLA/UHNVPr8feBI/AAAAAAAABxU/JnezB-kdS-I/s1600/2012-09-28+to+Yujiashitoucun+007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-elMnwfN0eLA/UHNVPr8feBI/AAAAAAAABxU/JnezB-kdS-I/s640/2012-09-28+to+Yujiashitoucun+007.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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La pi (spicy skins?) street noodles. Slippery so a bit tough to eat but ohhhh so good. Typically 3RMB, less than fifty cents. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nnBJCi9kBjo/UHNVRXMvC6I/AAAAAAAABxY/eM4IXxoIsTI/s1600/2012-10-01+to+Sanqicun+016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nnBJCi9kBjo/UHNVRXMvC6I/AAAAAAAABxY/eM4IXxoIsTI/s640/2012-10-01+to+Sanqicun+016.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A Chinese burrito! Frickin' amazing! They take a simple flour and water dough, spread it thin, and fry it a little on a griddle. Just before it's done, they poke a hole in the middle, drop in some beaten eggs, and then smush them around with a spatula so that they kind of coat the whole crepe. Add sauce, pepper flakes, lettuce, and cilantro and you have an awesome little snack. The price was 3RMB, but they gave Mingyu one for free, probably because he so enjoyed taking pictures of them cooking. Then I went back to buy two more, and they gave me those for free as well. Jeez, people!<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-45ud6i3p-i0/UHNVTTndGdI/AAAAAAAABxg/OMJQYVF8NRQ/s1600/2012-10-01+to+Sanqicun+020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-45ud6i3p-i0/UHNVTTndGdI/AAAAAAAABxg/OMJQYVF8NRQ/s640/2012-10-01+to+Sanqicun+020.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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Also that morning: fresh nut milk! Fresh soy milk is a staple at breakfasts here and costs about a quarter a bowl. People usually dunk Chinese-style donuts into it while eating. I hadn't seen this before though - they blend up soy beans, peanuts, black beans, adzuki beans, green lentils, jujubes, and a little sugar right in front of you to make an awesome vegan beanshake. The jujubes add just the right kind of maple-ish depth and cover the weird beany taste nicely.. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-So_tLiv2bkA/UHNVVYOg2cI/AAAAAAAABxo/aCyGArqrcVU/s1600/2012-10-01+to+Sanqicun+043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-So_tLiv2bkA/UHNVVYOg2cI/AAAAAAAABxo/aCyGArqrcVU/s640/2012-10-01+to+Sanqicun+043.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Tofu gan guo in action.<br />
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After a long day of climbing - this was the first time we would sleep at over 1000m - I was coming down with a cold and needed something to warm me up. Xiang Liang suggested this: tangerine and white cow's ear mushroom soup Actually, he only said tangerine soup, which was probably a good way to sell it. Amazing stuff! It was like drinking a tub of slightly thinned down orange marmalade. <br />
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The three of us generally share one meat dish (at which I pick slightly resentfully) and one veggie dish, and then each get our own individual "ju shi," which means something like "staple food" but is really just the category of starchy foods. Plain rice, fried rice, noodles in broth, fried noodles, etc. When there's some other ju shi on the menu, though, we usually go for it. This one was pretty random - dough flakes stir-fried with potatoes and green beans and maybe (?) some sort of tomato paste? Awesome, if a bit heavy. Could have been a meal all on its own.<br />
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Fresh, steaming chive and egg dumplings in the morning! I guess I can kiss these goodbye. Thanks, renewed commitment to veganissm and goddamn truckful of pigs.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5swtVfWlZNQ/UHNVnjSmPII/AAAAAAAAByI/kW0irq7fXuY/s1600/2012-09-30+to+Pingding+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5swtVfWlZNQ/UHNVnjSmPII/AAAAAAAAByI/kW0irq7fXuY/s640/2012-09-30+to+Pingding+003.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And a new favorite food that really has become a staple. Chao (same as Chow from Chow Mein, which means "stir fried") Bing (which means bread, cake, pastry). Chao bing. Slices of simple, unleavened, tortilla-type bread dried and then stir-fried with onions, chines, bean sprouts, eggs, or cabbage. Chewy, oily, dense, super-filling, vegan on request, and cheap as all get-out. Hello, 7RMB/ $1 and some change.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RMkGYxtD-hA/UHNVps00PUI/AAAAAAAAByQ/g4X_biNRZn4/s1600/2012-10-05++Changzhi+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RMkGYxtD-hA/UHNVps00PUI/AAAAAAAAByQ/g4X_biNRZn4/s640/2012-10-05++Changzhi+001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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On days off, when I have the luxury of sitting around in one place for more than an hour and doing dishes doesn't sound like a chore, I like to do a little saladifiying. In fact, I did a mostly raw-and-whole food purge that day. So, at the local grocer, I got a cuke, a carrot, spinach, spring onions (much easier to cut with a pocket knife than standard onions, and also easier both to store and to eat raw), a tomato, fresh sprouted beans (not quite old enough to be bean sprouts), and, for flavor and substance, fried and salted peanuts. Made 2 giant bowls that I could barely finish. 7RMB / $chump change.<br />
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Yeah yeah yeah good eats, every day! <br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-38847426927379982802012-10-09T16:24:00.000-07:002012-10-09T16:24:00.448-07:00Week 5 and 6 Photo Barrage!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We spent one night with a host from the website Warmshowers.org, which is basically couchsurfing for cyclists. Our host was an English teacher at "Baoding 1st Secondary School," so we got a tour. The school was pretty nice - not high tech by any means, but clean and orderly and dignified, with lots of inspiring messages like this. Cynicism sensors activated! Exactly what kind of society are these kids being trained to take part in? And are the leaders really examples of Noble Morality?</div>
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Mingyu takes does mid-morning calisthenics...with 5000 Chinese students. <br />
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Excellend candied mini-apples in even more excellent edible rice paper wrapping., courtesy of a friend of our new cycling partner. <br />
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The view one night from an old stone village up in the middle of nowhere.</div>
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Playing b-ball with some middle schoolers in front of the village school on one of our recent days off. This may have been the first time in my life that I was the tallest guy on the court...<br />
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After tiring myself out playing b-ball, I started doing a little solo-frisbee practice, which of course attracted a horde of children. About a third tried to play frisbee with me, a third tried to throw the disc as far away as possible, and a third just tried to chase me around. At one point, I bent over to pick up the frisbee only to receive a swift kick in the nuts from behind! Life on the road ain't always pretty...<br />
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We slept in a nice little park just behind the intersection of the only two roads in this nice little down with a nice nasty power plant. Anyone know how to tell the difference between coal and nuclear? I want to say this is nuclear, but maybe that's only because the stacks there resemble the ones from the Simpsons.</div>
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On our way to Yujia Stone Village we stopped at this restaurant, which happened to be having its opening ceremony. This government official asked me for a $1 bill as an offering of good luck. Not knowing he was an official, I joked around and told him it would cost three times the official exchange rate. After I dug the bill out of my bag and offered it to him has a gift, he actually tried to give me the money! I insisted he just take it, after which he gave me an incredibly awkward 5-minute long handshake, talking Chinese to me the whole time. He offered us some "hospitality" should we ever pass that way again. Enticing. <br />
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Also, he gave us cigarettes. And then the whole pack. Nothing to do but pretend to smoke. And then stifle the coughs. </div>
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Fantastic old stone village, so high in the mountains that nobody wants to bother tearing it down and renovating. We had a nice, peaceful, much-needed rest day here. </div>
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A surprising amount of kids for such a tiny village. What cuties!<br />
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The shy one next to me whispered to her auntie that she wanted to take a picture together. <br />
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"Have fewer children," <br />
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"plant more trees." Nothing like a little proverb to make the kids feel at home!<br />
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Absurdly friendly veggie vendor inspires me to laugh maniacally. We got ingredients for a salad for three for under a buck!<br />
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Mingyulee is a frickin' awesome draw-er. Ignore the part where I'm scratching myself.<br />
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Abusing park facilities. Salad, cookies, beer. <br />
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Couchsurfing in Shijiazhuang with Snowy and Oprah. They woke up at 4:30 the next morning to cook us breakfast before work! <br />
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English tests from the secondary school.<br />
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Our Warmshowers host's daughter treats us to an old-school Chinese harp performance. <br />
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Day 1 of riding with Xiang Liang, our new compadre. <br />
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Whewwwww now I'm only a week and a half behind! </div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00314398699565024124noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37894952.post-49499267125376887432012-10-08T07:23:00.001-07:002012-10-08T07:57:55.963-07:00If There Is Anything That Is Wrong, Then This Is Also Wrong.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Warning: This post contains some unpleasant pictures. They're not gruesome, but they are for sure gross, a bit gory, and hopefully at least a little disturbing.</div>
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Modification of warning: the Great Firewall is still completely screwing me over. I have to post my blog via a circuitous and totally non-suave email method, which means I don't get any control over formatting. I have no clue whether the pictures will actually go up. </div>
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Disclaimer: Before I begin my tirade, I bow humbly to all the friends and others I know who spend their vocational lives in the service of others or of the earth. I know people in international development, international conflict resolution, journalism, wetlands protection, primitive skills training, community projects, and more, all of whom devote much more time and energy than I do to altruist pursuits. I mostly just avoid buying and consuming certain things. I actually feel a bit of shame at the fact that my way of contributing is purely avocational, so I want to be careful not to write as if I had a monopoly on the practice of doing good. That said, there's something special about vegetarianism: anyone can practice it without it affecting the other spheres of his or her life. Compared to changing careers, changing your diet is a piece of cake. </div>
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So,<i></i></div>
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Frankly, I'd rather be writing about my last couple weeks in China. How Shanxi province was full of ups and downs both literal and figurative. How a middle-schooler gave me his gloves. How we ran into and joined up with a crew of twenty-two Chinese cyclists, had our first taste of Chinese vodka, stormed a guest house, then rode up the 2000-meter high Mt. Banshan en masse the following day. About how the bare cliffs of the ensuing descent, as well as our subsequent ride down the Taishan mountain range this afternoon, made me once again marvel at the beauty and power of nature. I felt pleased, proud, even honored to be so utterly dwarfed. I wonder if this is how believers feel in the presence of God. </div>
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But, instead, I'm going to write about a truckful of pigs that I crossed paths with about fifteen or twenty kilometers south of the Shanxi-Henan provincial border. From across an intersection, I saw the truck pull into a gas station. A wave of pity immediately carried me into the truck's wake. While the driver was gassing up, I pulled around the other side unseen and began to have a look and take pictures. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCYneX0Le2QQ6mkxDpHHpslLu4DNFVJq-VZwhbgw-g9ND-PyKJ8fvGx0El1m3OKIRjmk7LiRtnAL4qSL1Vuxr0Ky3q2HM4pEnitHP-t41m_XnAIy7wHnmgSgKsxzFCw9T9TmN-g/s1600/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+026-789037.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="360" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5796943944207760322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCYneX0Le2QQ6mkxDpHHpslLu4DNFVJq-VZwhbgw-g9ND-PyKJ8fvGx0El1m3OKIRjmk7LiRtnAL4qSL1Vuxr0Ky3q2HM4pEnitHP-t41m_XnAIy7wHnmgSgKsxzFCw9T9TmN-g/s640/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+026-789037.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBaZ50cYdVWtZ5ELaUNhKYaspcgZ4CN9b-GL7qRJCMmmwjRm6d4YQ5JEuqtTpsIlgiX9gNwtLsm2XQaUSH7VPQ24blE3Dp50AC71vIIptLqPKd1lElFVbQpGGeknzpG0tcrK_dQA/s1600/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+032-709781.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="360" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5796944030565078578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBaZ50cYdVWtZ5ELaUNhKYaspcgZ4CN9b-GL7qRJCMmmwjRm6d4YQ5JEuqtTpsIlgiX9gNwtLsm2XQaUSH7VPQ24blE3Dp50AC71vIIptLqPKd1lElFVbQpGGeknzpG0tcrK_dQA/s640/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+032-709781.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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There were six cages to a row, stacked three rows high. I couldn't tell if the cages were one or two rows deep; simple geometry makes it seem like there wouldn't be enough space for thirty-six cages on the truck bed, but then again, the way the pigs were crammed up against one another with hardly an inch to move suggested that they had been squished together beyond the limits of physical possibility, let alone compassion. Close inspection of one pictures makes it look like such may well have been the case, but I'll be charitable and say that there were only eighteen cages. Three pigs to a cage made fifty-four pigs. Not a single one of them looked healthy or comfortable. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW7KBTpOKlUK5BXVRA033eKgWAbiNRBKx2j4uO3HufEHz9OV4IkHpltEGhhVUjUaz6qw4T0aYudxzZe-nvmsd3S3owi6dg35wSElI_smMqCKahvVF7p78tY2jc6BPTSmbOz8JJkw/s1600/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+027-791900.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="360" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5796943957691182034" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW7KBTpOKlUK5BXVRA033eKgWAbiNRBKx2j4uO3HufEHz9OV4IkHpltEGhhVUjUaz6qw4T0aYudxzZe-nvmsd3S3owi6dg35wSElI_smMqCKahvVF7p78tY2jc6BPTSmbOz8JJkw/s640/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+027-791900.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ8DyrcBamiARTjhY_Z2_tsdetou6oeHjZN6hMiEceGr36FLHl1ARjMDKY9Yg9OvZB60kdikPqXAvdl7BZvqfi5oaDtP4lf_TOFn8oBp0H8UgN9-mTvnFU_tTMxABV0vUyg3Lnbg/s1600/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+033-703226.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="360" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5796944005297580290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ8DyrcBamiARTjhY_Z2_tsdetou6oeHjZN6hMiEceGr36FLHl1ARjMDKY9Yg9OvZB60kdikPqXAvdl7BZvqfi5oaDtP4lf_TOFn8oBp0H8UgN9-mTvnFU_tTMxABV0vUyg3Lnbg/s320/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+033-703226.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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The first thing I noticed was that several pigs had their rears hanging out of the cages. They had so little room that they had been forced to back up so far that the bars of the cage actually ran in between their butt cheeks, like an oversized, metal, rusty wedgie. Some of them apparently did this so that they could urinate and defecate away from the truck, though of course the pigs on the lower levels – many of them with open scrapes and sores on various parts of their body – were hit with the effluent nonetheless. Other animals, the ones unable to turn themselves around, just pissed and shat where they stood. Or lay. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpgdKmSTidk51WeTRrXG07etkziw42QBQzx6hbsc0km93PzsrpzSWu-zz5lm3Nw4J28JgoRa3QLHolpuXgK58wIgYzuZp5-XzmoNk0oBI1bu5IOamglZwRIY4qqpdJ9EARXktsLw/s1600/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+028-794415.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="360" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5796943964326562258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpgdKmSTidk51WeTRrXG07etkziw42QBQzx6hbsc0km93PzsrpzSWu-zz5lm3Nw4J28JgoRa3QLHolpuXgK58wIgYzuZp5-XzmoNk0oBI1bu5IOamglZwRIY4qqpdJ9EARXktsLw/s640/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+028-794415.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wOPL0ZNJldHselJgLJWfa18yl2t4QZIVBBWnUzMvwGgymipD08HcSS9b67OYHeMEOT1jAuDWiZD38WQ86B3YNXKjHwKoQkTaJGSe3ZIPCuyPXKAf3_yLE8LQWFKdjr0HQRfOGA/s1600/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+031-700706.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="360" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5796943990873147650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wOPL0ZNJldHselJgLJWfa18yl2t4QZIVBBWnUzMvwGgymipD08HcSS9b67OYHeMEOT1jAuDWiZD38WQ86B3YNXKjHwKoQkTaJGSe3ZIPCuyPXKAf3_yLE8LQWFKdjr0HQRfOGA/s640/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+031-700706.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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The way the bars cleaved the pigs' back ends revealed a number of anal and vaginal sores. Further, several pigs had white foam seeping out of their closed snouts. A few of those on the upper level were drooling directly onto those on the lower level; one strand of drool even fell directly into another pig's eye, swollen and red with infection. Not a single pig had sufficient room to turn around. Many had their snouts or entire bodies smashed up against the bars of their cage. For most, shifting from a lying position to a standing one, or vice-versa, would have been possible with the permission and collaboration of their cellmates, many of whom had already collapsed, apparently immobile. A number of the pigs licked, gnawed, and pushed at the metal bars in pitiful, futile efforts to at least earn themselves some breathing room. Some were so nearly still that I couldn't tell whether they were breathing or just being pushed by their brethren. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlNrDsdtmXoGi5S0qyKO-npoYmrd-aAHNWhK-0LWev4ohC9IwgmiiMS0AlyCfLO0lYZlVT70Nwo_SBKRRX-3PXlOb2MIc8zDsXXsEfBlzrKoTFmyXwH1TIItFAC2_CNN63iQ5Daw/s1600/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+029-796514.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="360" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5796943971435799314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlNrDsdtmXoGi5S0qyKO-npoYmrd-aAHNWhK-0LWev4ohC9IwgmiiMS0AlyCfLO0lYZlVT70Nwo_SBKRRX-3PXlOb2MIc8zDsXXsEfBlzrKoTFmyXwH1TIItFAC2_CNN63iQ5Daw/s640/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+029-796514.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUwTiaVv-Tgp9SLw6mu_Owho5fmF69A2aIg88ocjivz91rizsrQ7mDPOYYh405dm5f7a0I0NEhRrfYEIxatW1F8Oce1jPW6QF8-mcnDGcN6WONioY3a25j15v3jRIcZNfmCXZ6yg/s1600/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+030-798835.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="360" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5796943985747671234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUwTiaVv-Tgp9SLw6mu_Owho5fmF69A2aIg88ocjivz91rizsrQ7mDPOYYh405dm5f7a0I0NEhRrfYEIxatW1F8Oce1jPW6QF8-mcnDGcN6WONioY3a25j15v3jRIcZNfmCXZ6yg/s640/2012-10-07+to+Luoyang+030-798835.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Things like I just reported will not come as news to most. Indeed, what I saw was small-scale and relatively benign compared to what goes on behind closed doors in meat processing plants around the world. I know from experience, though, that one often has to be confronted with something several times before he or she can accept it. The first time, one scoffs, unaware of the scratch that's been made in his or her armor. The second time, the scratch become a chink. Then a crack, then a fissure, and eventually, , after four, five, or however many times, the whole suit falls to pieces, and you're left naked, defenseless in front of the truth. I personally was so shaken that I've decided to renew my commitment to veganism, which has been slipping in recent months; I rationalized this by saying "I cause harm in other ways (e.g. using and disposing of plastic, consuming non-organic food) without thinking twice, so why give myself such a hard time about what kind of food I eat? Aren't I doing enough already?" So, to whoever is reading this, I won't say "please don't eat meat" or "please go vegetarian." What I will say is, please don't ignore the fact that the conditions that I've just described are commonplace. Please don't let your hard-earned money go to support those who knowingly treat animals this way. Please don't say that it's not your fault, or your responsibility. Please don't say that whatever good you could do pales in comparison to the evil done by certain others, or that one person can't make a difference. You can. Please do. </div>
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Sorry to interrupt your hopefully beautiful day with such stuff. Thanks for reading.</div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17198921079835614264noreply@blogger.com2