The Downfall of Dali

I first went to Dali in March of 1986.  I had spent a lot of time in big Chinese cities with grey skies and grim Stalinist architecture, so I was thrilled to arrive in this sleepy little town.  It was filled with traditional architecture and enclosed within a massive stone wall with impressive gates facing the four cardinal directions.  Surrounding it were fields of rice and other crops, and fruit trees in full bloom.  I remember that when I arrived, I thought, “this is what China should look like!”  The town had only opened to foreigners a few months earlier, and there were just a handful of hotels and restaurants.

Fast forward 27 years.  Word had quickly spread about Dali’s charms, and the tourist throngs descended on it. Millions of Chinese tourists from all over the country now come to Dali by the busload.  Foreigners from all over the world are there also.  The town is now chock-a-block full of guesthouses, restaurants, and trinket stalls—hundreds and hundreds of trinket stalls.  We stayed at a place outside the walls, and Lillia would say, “can we go back to the shopping mall?”  Which is exactly what the Old Town has become.  And all those pretty farms that had surrounded the town?  Now replaced by an ugly new city that has grown up around the walls like barnacles on a boat.  I have always felt a bit leery about going back to a place I loved, decades later.  In Japan, it was OK; Kamakura was as lovely and peaceful as I remembered.  But I’m never going to do this in China again.

The Lost Garden

                                                                       

We arrived in Kunming yesterday an hour and a half late, due to a long wait on the tarmac in Beijing.   We were impressed on our way to the guesthouse with how GREEN this city is.  So many Chinese cities are grey, grey, grey.  The streets here are lined with Southern magnolias, ficus, and huge bougainvilleas trained into trees, plus many other trees I have no clue about.  Some of the smaller streets have trees that arch over and touch, forming cool, shady tunnels.

The Lost Garden Guesthouse, which was billed as a “boutique hotel”, was kind of charmingly funky, but “boutique” was not the first word that came to mind.  It could have been any backpacker hangout in Bangkok or Kathmandu, with lots of white kids sitting around eating pancakes.  We made the mistake of eating at their restaurant, which was overpriced and entirely forgettable.  But the staff was very friendly, so we happily settled in.

We went for a long walk around Green Lake Park, just a couple of blocks from the guesthouse.  It’s a lovely place, with weeping willows, bamboo groves , lotuses and water lilies.  Unfortunately, since it was Sunday, half the population of Kunming seemed to be there, and the revelry was deafening.  There were many groups of people dancing, with dueling amplified music.  We decided we would come back when there were fewer people there.

It was an unusually steamy day in Kunming, and our room was very hot when we went to bed.  We left the window open and trained the little electric fan on us.  I fell quickly into REM sleep, and then began having very noisy dreams.  Then a horrendous clanging, banging, crashing crescendo jolted me awake.  “What the...?”  It was half past midnight.  I lay in bed listening to more crashing and banging, along with the idling of a huge truck.  Tom stirred beside me and said, “we need to find a new place to stay tomorrow”.  I suggested at least closing the window,  but Tom had already tried that, and had found that the window frame was swollen so that it could not be closed.  Since sleep was clearly impossible, I went out to see what was going on.  Below us, a stone’s throw from our room, was a huge dump truck, idling noisily.  A front-end loader was roaring back and forth, scraping up and dumping huge loads of construction debris into it.  I went back to bed, put on my noise-cancelling headphones, and read on my ipod until the noise stopped around 1:30.  I guessed they had filled up the truck and driven it off, and I prayed it would not return that night.

Lillia slept through the whole thing.

Coatis and Hummers and Monkeys, Oh My!

After La Fortuna, we spent three days at a resort in the middle of the rainforest. It continued to rain on and off (imagine that?). But it was warm and sunny often enough for Lillia to play in the pool a few times. If that girl could grow gills and fins, she would. We also went horseback riding, another first for Lillia. It was a pretty place, with charmingly minimalist cabins, but I was a little disappointed with how little wildlife we saw. Maybe it was the weather.

Anyway, from there we took the jeep-boat-jeep trip to Monteverde. It was drizzling most of the day (are you seeing a theme here?), but it was still a stunningly beautiful trip. We didn’t get to see Arenal reflected in the lake, but the deep green hills covered with meadows and forest on the Monteverde side were so lovely.

When we arrived in Santa Elena, it was briefly sunny, and we happily settled into the Arco Iris Lodge, just uphill from the town. Arco iris means rainbow in Spanish, and we did indeed see several while we were there.

Now, the Santa Elena- Monteverde area is the place to see wildlife. On Christmas Eve, we did a combination hanging bridges, hummingbird, and butterfly tour at Selvatura. First, the hanging bridges in the cloud forest, in the rain, during which Lillia went all pouty on us. It cleared up while we were having lunch, and just as we were finishing, the restaurant garden was suddenly invaded by a couple dozen adorable coatimundi.

Next we went to the hummingbird garden, where the feisty little birds fight over the many feeders. You wouldn’t think they’d need to; I guess they’re just innately aggressive.

For me the highlight of the day was the butterfly house. They collect all the cocoons and hang them in special cabinets. So, if you want to see butterflies that have just hatched, there they are. Many butterflies were still hanging from their chrysalises, and others were sitting on the bottom, letting their wings fully dry. We were allowed to let these ones climb onto our hands.

The following day, we were in a nice café in Santa Elena, when the barrista pointed out the back window and said “capuchin monkey”. Sure enough, there were two capuchin monkeys in the tree next to the back porch. We returned to this café the morning before we left for some prime birdwatching.

I will upload more photos after I get a larger hard drive. Soon, I hope.

Comida Tipica

Tom and I were in Costa Rica in 1995, and we remembered the food as being bland and uninspired. It still is, only now it costs twice as much. Tom recently said that comida tipica (the term for traditional CR food) should actually be called ‘comida sin sabor”.

We’ve pretty much given up the quest for tasty food and are just trying to eat as healthily as possible, which is enough of a challenge. Sticking to our low-fat vegan diet is simply impossible. Tico food centers around meat and cheese, with generous sides of white rice, white bread, and potatoes. A veritable diabetic nightmare. They know about vegetarianism, but not veganism, and would probably consider it a form of mental illness.

What they lack in quality, they make up for with quantity. I thought restaurants in America served ridiculously large portions, but the quantity of meat on the plate here is simply staggering. This heavy meat diet is probably one of the reasons Ticos are so heavy-set. In most of the places I’ve traveled, the locals are normal sized, and the tourists are great lumbering walrus people. There is no such distinction here.

We had a dinner in La Fortuna so dreadful that, as we were leaving the restaurant with half the food uneaten, Tom pronounced it the second worst meal he’s ever had. I didn’t have to ask which was #1 on the Bad Food Hit Parade. This meal was perpetrated not in CR but in Cuenca, Ecuador. Our Ecuadoran hosts took us to a restaurant that specialized in spit-roasted guinea pig, a delicacy in Andean countries. Maybe the little rodents can be good in the hands of a more talented chef, but this was the specialty of the house! We found it strange that they weren’t even skinned, because all of us norteamericanos found the singed fur rather off-putting. Then we discovered that they weren’t gutted either, so we amused ourselves by identifying internal organs (“hey look, I’ve got a lung!”, “I have a kidney with the ureter still attached!”). The cuy (guinea pig) was accompanied by unseasoned potatoes and the kind of starchy corn that is fed to livestock in the US. Yum.

But I digress. For Christmas dinner, we made a reservation at a restaurant in Santa Elena run by a Spanish couple. This was the first great meal we had here. The Andalusian gazpacho was such an explosion of flavor, I was ready to go to Spain for our next vacation. We also had fideua, which is basically a paella made with capellini instead of rice. It was fantastic. We washed it all down with sangria and had a very merry Christmas.

Flying Girl

This morning we again had nice weather and went to Ecoglide for some ziplining on the lower slopes of Arenal Volcano. There were 15 cables and an optional Tarzan swing. Lillia was too small to go by herself, so she went tethered to one of the guides. It was amazing how unafraid she was. She is so trusting. “You’re going to go with this guy, and he’s going to make sure you’re safe” is all she needs to hear from us. She had a great time on the cables. When we got to the Tarzan swing, she went first. When they dropped off the platform, I was startled by how far down it was. A mother of three young boys pronounced her “awesome” when she displayed no fear and didn’t scream. Tom went next, looking off the edge and thinking, “OK, my 6-year-old just did this, so I guess I can”. He cracked up the whole group by doing a Tarzan yodel as he swung. I went next, and I have to say it was one of the scarier things I’ve done, although I didn’t scream. But screamers there were aplenty, both adults and children. We have one brave, and yes, awesome little girl.

Costa Rica

Okay, I never did get back to Taiwan, but I will, I promise.

Anyway, we are now in Costa Rica. Costa Rica has basically two seasons, the high season and the wet season, the latter renamed the “green” season by some clever marketing person. This is high season, so we were surprised when it rained almost non-stop for the first few days. At our first stay, near San Jose, it was downright cold, and I was wearing up to four layers at a time. Lillia was a little sniffly before we left and after a day in CR, she had a full-blown cold.

On Saturday, we rode from the San Jose area up to La Fortuna in the rain and went out to buy umbrellas. There is a huge volcano next to the town that was nowhere in evidence. I was beginning to doubt the wisdom of coming here, because CR is strictly an outdoorsy place. You don’t come here for the fabulous cuisine (there is none) or charming architecture (ditto) or any other cultural attraction. Fortunately, it mostly cleared overnight, and we woke to a splendid volcano view from our room yesterday morning.

There are many hot springs near the volcano, which sounded very appealing after several days of cold. So we headed off to Ecotermales Hot Springs first thing in the morning. Aah, was that nice. Ecotermales is probably the nicest hot spring I’ve ever been to, and I’ve been to a lot. Several large pools lined with river rock are nestled in dense rain forest; they range from cold to Japanese hot, and are connected by little waterfalls.

Lillia has been gradually learning to swim over the past couple of years, and had gotten up to taking about four strokes before having to stop to take a breath. But yesterday for the first time, she figured out how to take a breath without stopping, and swam all the way across the pool unaided. We were all thrilled. But she was a little miffed that I kept getting distracted by the antics of a howler monkey in a nearby tree. It’s hard to compete with a creature in possession of a prehensile tail.

All's Well That Ends Well

Our last day in Taiwan was pretty hectic, packing up and buying last-minute gifts. Then a taxi to the airport and trying to find food near the gate for a hungry little girl (and tweaking my ankle again in the process). And then the long flight. At first we were seated in the last row of Elite, which meant that the seats didn't recline to their full extent, and since we were right across the aisle from the bathroom, anytime anyone went in or out of it, a slice of blinding light would fall across my face. After an hour or so of trying to sleep like this, I asked to be moved. They did find two seats together in the middle section, and after we moved we both slept pretty well.

For some reason, there was only one runway open at the airport, so we spent a long time on the tarmac, waiting to take off. So we arrived at LAX about an hour late, which cut our layover to two hours. At first I thought this was a good thing. Then, after standing in a stationary immigration line for about twenty minutes, I started to worry. Finally, it began to move, but it took a full hour to get through. Then we had to get our bags, and had trouble locating the car seat. Then another line for customs. By now I was thoroughly frantic. We rechecked the bags after customs, but were told we needed to take the car seat to United, in Terminal 6. Picture me, sprinting to the shuttle bus, dragging a carry-on, carrying a computer bag, a purse, and a car seat, and exhorting a tired little girl wearing a backpack to keep up with me. Got off at Terminal 6, and was told I actually needed Terminal 7. Ran up to the United counter at T minus 30 minutes, on the verge of hysteria, to be told that they were not accepting check-ins for that flight anymore. And there were no more flights that day. So, after getting boarding passes for a flight the following morning, we dragged all our stuff back to the

international terminal so that the Eva people could book us into a hotel. We shivered while we waited for the shuttle. Yes, it was cold! In LA! In the summer! We had a lousy meal with a terrible waiter, and then fell into bed.

Despite the time change, we slept like the dead. We put our dirty clothes back on (note to self, pack some useful things in the carry-on, like toiletries and a change of clothes). Check in was a breeze, and we had breakfast and coffee at the airport (well, Lillia didn't have coffee). On the way down the jetway, we met the co-pilot, who fell in love with Lillia (doesn't everyone?). He invited her to come up to the cockpit and have her picture taken sitting in his seat. Then we discovered that we had been upgraded to Economy Plus for free, by the kind United lady at LAX. Tom had taken the day off to spend with us, so he was at DIA to meet us, and we both fell into his arms.

P.S. This is not my last post about Taiwan. I still need to write about Lukang and Taroko Gorge.

Some Notes on Food

Fruit

Oh my God, the fruit here is just amazing. Pineapples, papayas, bananas, mangoes (many kinds), litchis, dragonfruit, watermelon, cantaloupes, honeydews, wax apples, guavas, all the usual tropicals. But also things you don’t usually associate with the tropics, like cherries, peaches, grapes, and plums (the last come in green, yellow, red, and purple). All of them are so outrageously juicy that you practically need to take a shower after eating a piece; a single peach will leave you sticky up to your elbows.

Fruit at the night market in Zhongli

Local plums and peaches in Tianhsiang.

The Stink

My first week here, Dan, Yen-Wen and I were strolling through the night market in Zhongli, when I was suddenly enveloped by an incredibly putrid stench. At first I thought it was rotting garbage. I said to Dan, “Boy, something smells really rank!” He replied “that’s the stinky tofu”. I could not believe it. Chou doufu, or stinky tofu, is a fermented tofu that is very popular here, and I came to Taiwan with the intention of trying it. After all, I love natto, which most Westerners find absolutely vile. But after smelling this stuff, I’ve decided to give it a pass. When Lillia first smelled it, she said, “I hope I don’t vomit”.

Su

Su means “pure” and is used to describe a very strict Buddhist diet, which is vegetarian and uses no onions or garlic. I know that sounds really dismal, but it’s pretty terrific. Yen-Wen’s parents run a restaurant, Xin Min Su Can Guan, on the first floor of this gargantuan house, and twice a day they put on a buffet with probably 60-70 different dishes. There are all sorts of vegetables, noodles, tofu, dumplings, fritters, and various meatlike products made from wheat and/or soy, which are surprisingly flavorful and succulent. I buy some of these products in Denver, but there is much, much more variety here.

Part of the buffet at Xin Min Su Can Guan

Pastries

Although for dessert, the Taiwanese usually eat some of their magnificent fruit, there is no lack of Western-style cakes and puddings, and they are surprisingly good. Every little café has fancy cakes. Cheesecake is particularly popular.

Lillia with teddy bear cake at our favorite local cafe.

Kick-ass fig cheesecake at the National Palace Museum café.

But the best pastries I’ve had were from La Famille in Taichung. This elegant patisserie/cafe had the best pastries I've had in many years. Particularly fine was the chocolate macadamia nut thing. It had a very delicate flaky bottom crust, then a layer of ganache in which whole toasted macadamias were embedded, then something extremely thin and crispy (a dacquoise meringue layer?), and then tiny chocolate curls on top. To die for.

Display cases at La Famille.

Japanese Influence

Although the food here is overwhelmingly Chinese, there is a surprising amount of Japanese influence. All of the convenience stores carry onigiri and simple bentos. Takoyaki can be found in the night markets. Lots of otherwise Chinese things can be found wrapped in nori. Most of the department stores are Japanese, and the food basements feature both Chinese and Japanese meals and products. MOS Burger is in all the major cities. All the big Japanese food brands are here (UCC coffee, Meiji chocolate, etc.). But I have to tell you about some of the offerings at the Yamazaki Bakery. In addition to their European and Japanesified European offerings, they have some things aimed at the local clientele: Fried Noodles Sandwich, Pickles Doughnut, and Seaweed and Pork Floss Salad Roll.

Hair Salons

If you had told me a month ago that I would be writing a post about hair salons, I would have told you you were crazy. I go to a cheap salon about once a year to get my hair cut, and have even been known to cut it myself. But in the past three weeks, I’ve gone to salons five times, to get my hair washed and styled. When you get your hair washed in Taiwan, it starts out with a shoulder massage, which goes from the top of your neck to about halfway down your back. At the more upscale places they’ll give you tea or coffee and a snack. After 15-20 minutes of massage, while you’re still sitting up in the chair, they put shampoo in your hair and proceed to give you a vigorous scalp massage. Then they take you over to the sink and rinse you. After that, I’ve had my hair blow-dried and straightened. This whole thing from beginning to end usually takes about an hour and a half, and my hair turns out feeling like silk and looking like the hair in shampoo commercials. The cost? About $8.

A happy customer.

Curse You, Blogger!

Unless you've worked with Blogger, you have no idea how much work this is. First of all, the text keeps reverting to blue, no matter how many times I go back to black. Also, the images will only load at the beginning of the post, so that I have to cut and paste each one. But this morning was the worst; nothing seemed to be working properly, so I decided to close and reopen it. That's when I discovered that the auto-save had failed and I'd lost over an hour's worth of work. I'd even cleaned up the desktop already, putting all the images I'd already used in the trash, so now I have to pull them one by one out of iPhoto again. Grrr!

Paper & Rain

On Tuesday, we all went up into the mountains to Puli, a small town where there is a manufacturer of traditional handmade paper. They give tours and offer the opportunity to make your own paper. We all did this and had great fun. Most of us made a single sheet, but Lillia made a fan, which required two sheets to be glued to each side of a fan frame.

A factory worker making a giant piece of paper.

Lillia making her first sheet, Aunt Lori (Da Jie) helping with her swishing technique.

Lillia put flowers and leaves in her first sheeet.

Water being pressed out of our new paper.

Further drying on the hot table.

The paper store.

Landscape around Puli.

Then we drove to the beautiful campus of a nearby Seventh Day Adventist school (!) for a little picnic. We were heading back to the cars in a light rain when I spotted a sign that said “A Secret Garden B & B/ Café Brazil open for Afternoon Tea”. I was interested in checking it out, so we went down the little path that led from the road into, well, a secret garden. We found the café in a really interesting house. The floor was suspended about a yard above the ground and in some places the floor didn’t meet the walls, and plants grew from the ground up into the house. The whole back wall was a two story tall greenhouse. By this time the light rain had turned into a full-on tropical monsoon storm, with thunder and lightning, and buckets of rain hammering on the greenhouse roof. Lillia and I shared hot chocolate and smoked chicken and apple quesadillas, which were very good. Yen-Wen ordered pancakes with bananas and chocolate for herself and her kids. Look at what she got!

Panorama of cafe interior.

The secret garden.

When the rain had let up enough, we went to a place called the Paper Dome, which was billed as a church made entirely of paper. When I saw that it was encased in plastic, I was pretty disappointed. But it was surrounded by lovely water lily and lotus ponds.

Paper Dome. Everything you see in this picture, except for the floor and the TV screen, is made of paper.

Lillia and Emily were fascinated by the huge snails there.

8th Platform Motel

We are now in Chang Hua, where Yen-Wen’s da jie (older older sister) lives. Her house isn’t big enough for all of us, so Lillia and I are staying in a motel just down the block. It didn’t look very promising when we pulled in late last night. It kind of looked like one of those self-storage places, with two rows of corrugated steel garage doors facing a wide driveway. But oh my, we had no idea what awaited us within. Our suite is the most aggressively ugly interior I have ever seen, but it is huge. It’s easily half the size of our house. The immense bathroom features a large shower stall, a giant Jacuzzi, and a regular-sized footed bathtub. All the toiletries are supplied, including condoms, which Lillia found on her bedside table. Maybe that explains the weird décor. Anyway, this hideous palace, after Da Jie’s aggressive bargaining, is costing us $63/night, including breakfast. Not bad.

The bedroom. Dig that couch.

The vast bathroom with the giant jetted tub. Notice it has its own flat screen TV, so Lillia can watch Sponge Bob in Chinese while soaking.

Our air-conditioned "patio".

Sign on footed tub saying that this is the one for taking milk baths!

More Breaking News

Lillia wants everyone to know that she lost her second baby tooth last night. She has decided to keep it, rather than let the Tooth Fairy have it (although the TF brought a Sacagawea dollar to Taiwan, just in case).

Breaking News

Well, not breaking exactly, just spraining. Last night, on the way to the wedding reception, I inverted my ankle while running downstairs in the dark in heeled sandals. Grrr.... My foot was swollen and purple when I got back, so I elevated and iced it. Now I have it wrapped in an Ace bandage and I'm lying in bed all day with my foot up. We were intending to go to Taizhong (Taichung) this morning, but fortunately everyone was too exhausted from the wedding. We might go tonight or tomorrow morning. So we sent the kids off to school and I'm just lying here working on my Taipei post. Pictures to follow soon, I promise!

Taipei (with pictures!)

Last weekend Lillia and I took the train into Taipei and went to Taipei 101, the world’s second-tallest building. The architecture is, um, interesting, to put it charitably, but the view from the top is terrific, even on a hazy day.

Here's the giant iron ball that stabilizes the building during typhoons and earthquakes:

I’ve been into Taipei three more times this week to visit sights that would make Lillia’s eyes glaze over in ten minutes. First, the National Palace Museum, to see a tiny fraction of the treasures that the Nationalists carted off when they retreated to Taiwan. There was also an amazing new installation called “Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains”.

It's a little hard to explain, although the picture helps. The original Yuan Dynasty scroll is projected on a wall, reflected in a "stream" projected on the horizontal surface below. Every once in a while, the painting gradually darkens and becomes more detailed, so that it looks almost like a black-and -white photograph. The clouds become thicker and darker.and then it begins to rain. You actually hear the rain, and you see it streaking across the painting and dimpling the water in the stream. It was quite mesmerizing.

The rest of the time I spent temple-hopping. Here are some scenes from the Bao An Temple. The atmosphere and the details at this temple were just wonderful.

Right across the street from it is the Confucius Temple.

Since Confucius was the Great Teacher, students often ask his help to pass exams. There was a rack of wooden plaques, similar to Japanese e-ma, with wishes written on them:

I had a long conversation with this friendly temple volunteer in a garbled mix of Chinese, Japanese, and English. You can tell he's been to Japan because he's picked up that goofy make-a-V-sign-when-you're-being-photographed thing.

And finally here is the Guandu Temple, a Disneyesque extravaganza built into the side of a hill on the outskirts of Taipei.

Here is the tunnel going through the hill itself:

And one of its denizens:

I recovered from this last temple at Din Tai Fung, where I had a whole steamer basket of xiaolongbao to myself. Oink, oink.