China Autumn 2019

I have hosted several visiting scholars from China and in 2019 three of them, Min Zhu, Liu Jianwen (Harold) and Xuede Zhao, arranged an invitation for me to visit China and lecture at several universities, including Zhejiang University of Science and Technology in Hangzhou and Hunan University in Wuhan. At my request, Harold arranged for me to visit several attractions and hike in several Chinese national parks. I met wonderful people, saw spectacular scenery and ate many delicious meals (including dishes I will never have again.) It was a fabulous trip. September 5, Wuhan Polytechnic University lecture I reached the hotel at 1 a.m., got only a bit over 4 hours sleep, but coffee and breakfast brought me back around. Went for a short walk with Harold, had a rather large lunch (4 dishes, including a baked oyster dish that was divine – we didn’t eat nearly all of it.) Drove to the university campus, walked around a bit – still comfortable in the shade but pretty hot in the sun. Met some of Harold’s colleagues and grad students, all very nice. The lecture went very well. In addition to faculty and grad students probably 50 undergrads showed up, overfilling the conference room. I didn’t use the mic, because of how it echoed in the room when the dean used it, checked to be sure those in back could hear me well. Finished my prepared lecture after 80 minutes, leaving 10 for questions, and I got several good questions, including a question challenging Xuede’s translation and my interpretation of a couple of the poems. After the formal session was over I hung around talking to some grad students and one faculty member until time to go to dinner with Harold and the current and former dean – another excellent meal. I didn’t realize until Harold offered me a third cup that the mild tea I had been drinking was barley tea, but fortunately, it appears gluten is not water-soluble and I had no problems with it. (Maybe I could drink regular beer.) I was tired, went to bed at 8, asleep within 10 minutes. Sept. 6 I slept well, 7 hours solid + 2 hours of dozing. Obviously my system of preventing jet-lag works fairly well. I managed to find a window seat on the sunny side of the plane, so sat in the sun for most of he trip, working on my book (mostly refamiliarizing myself. I took several 15 minute naps but otherwise stayed awake until I reached my hotel at 1 a.m.) Harold picked me up after breakfast and we drove out to a forest recreation area about 1 and a half hours out of Wuhan. Interesting place – lovely forest, a series of shrines to Mulan, who came from this region. The entire area is named for and dedicated to her – she is a major hero; schoolkids have to memorize a poem about her exploits. The “trail” is well-developed: I could have and should have worn my walking shoes instead of the hiking boots since it was almost entirely paved, with stairs up all the steep parts. Some of these were carved out of the stone, some concrete or stone blocks, all in quite good condition, although the ratio of tread to riser was consistently less than 1, and some risers were over a foot high. There is a thin creek, with some interesting stone pools carved by spring runoff and a series of small dams (and one fairly high concrete dam, with pools behind them; there is a mile long water-slide for people to slide down in rubber rafts, and at the top of the one rather high dam there is a set of slides carved into a steep grassy slope; the slides lined with what appears to be a plastic fabric; there is also a long narrow lake behind this high dam, with a string of mini-villages along one shore. The lake and surrounding hillsides are quite pretty, and there is a boat from the dam to the first of the villages, which has several restaurants. We hiked a mile or more beyond the first of these villages to a large shrine to Mulan, and a small Mulan museum. Outside the museum is a large flower garden – marigolds I think – crowded with butterflies, mostly either black or a spotted variety, and some small moths I thought were small hummingbirds until I looked at one of the photos and realized it had antennae. There is also a statue of Mulan’s horse, which of course both Harold and I had to ride for the camera. It is a bronze statue, and in the hot sun I was glad at that moment I was not wearing shorts. On the way back down we lunched on fried minnows and green beans at one of the restaurants. A mile beyond that, the trail splits; to go down, you have a choice between a long steep flight of stairs and a slide that appears to have been built out of slabs of marble. I took a slide that bypassed the stairs, probably a kilometer long. My knees blessed me for sparing them the stairs. The whole day was fun and quite interesting. I wished all day I had brought a pair of shorts and worn walking shoes – Harold wore shorts and he looked a lot more comfortable than I felt. Throughout, I have been intrigued with the architecture – big blocks of a dozen or more high-rise apartments, all the same style and all exactly the same height. I took a picture of the view from my hotel window, which shows several clusters in the university district across the lake from the hote. The plan was that I would go for dinner to Harold’s home, but his daughter’s dance teacher changed the first meeting of the dance class to that night, so he and I went to a Japanese restaurant in a large mall instead. The food was excellent but the echoey noise detracted. Since I needed lunch stuff for the next 3 or 4 days we walked through the Japanese-style supermarket, but the noise was so intense I couldn’t concentrate, and it was hard to find anything. I ended up buying 4 apples, some unshelled peanuts and some chocolate covered almonds. Fortunately I have over a dozen granola bars. The fast train to Beijing We changed the reservation to an earlier train because of the expected traffic chaos associated with a military parade planned for Sunday; somehow I ended up with a seat in the center of three across. Harold texted me a message to show the conductors (all young women) and they were very helpful in finding me an unclaimed window seat; when it was claimed by a new passenger they found me another. The scenery is quite varied – some lovely mountains, with small farms tucked into the level spots, then a long plain with lush-looking farms. Unfortunately, a thick haze – smog most likely – hung over the landscape the entire way, limiting visibility to 5 miles or even less most of the way. Still, it was great to see the countryside, the pattern of farms and villages – and some fairly large cities we passed through. An interesting feature – the restrooms on the train are squat toilets, metal not the usual porcelain. The idea of actually squatting while the train is in motion, with its rocking and occasional jerks, is a blend of amusing and dismaying. Arrived on time, decided to take a cab because I’m carrying 3 bags, one bulky and heavy, but I regretted the decision. Stood in line for a cab for 30 minutes, another 30 minutes to the hotel (a hostel actually) cost $60 for a 7 mile ride. The hotel staff confirmed my suspicion that the driver cheated me, deliberately giving me a hgrand tour of the entire city to run up the fare. Unfortunately I failed to get his license number so could not report him to the police. Other than a window facing a brick wall the room is very comfortable, big king size bed, clean shower, reasonably comfortable couch on a rather old alley. We’re warned not to go out after 7 because of tomorrow’s parade so I will rest a while and then go out for an early dinner. September 8—September 10, Jiankou section of the Great Wall James picked me up at my hotel at 10 and we drove almost 2 hours, first hour on freeways, then on typical winding mountain roads, paralleling the great wall. Chinese drivers are better than Thai, but they have a frightening habit of speeding, cutting between an overtaking vehicle and the vehicle being overtaken, often with only inches to spare (yes, worse than California or Chicago). On the way home one almost got us killed: ended up next to us just as we overtook a large truck, forcing James to swerve into the next lane to avoid a side-swipe collision. (The only time I heard him use a profanity.) [Above: James.] In the mountains we paralleled the Wall for several miles on the China side, then passed through it where it descends to a large river and goes up the ridge on the Mongolia side (now part of China, of course.) We paralleled it for several more miles, finally ending up at the dead-end of a very narrow paved road. Beautiful, lush vegetation – it obviously rains a lot. James unloaded the camping gear, which a porter would carry up the hill for us later, I bought some more water, and we set off back down the road about a mile, turned onto a gravel road, a couple hundred yards later started up a trail, generally good condition but steep. A 20 minute vigorous hike got us to a low saddle, where we approached the foundation of the wall at a point where it was partially collapsed, allowing us to scramble up to the top using some of the tumbled stones as stairs. We turned right, immediately climbed a hundred feet or so to a higher vantage (on a comfortable grade, unlike, from which we could see the wall leading off in both directions (with no tourists on it!) The picture on the bottom of the last page is looking back the way we came, toward a peak James said would be our objective for the third day. To the right, the wall winds up and down, following the exact top of the ridgeline, even when that means climbing up a cliff. The wall has precisely set stone blocks (transported some distance) on either side, two and even three meters high, topped by a parapet wall on each side, usually 3 to 4 feet high, also of cut stone blocks, capped by a triangular capstone. The space between is filled with local rocks, much of it limestone, with a final underlayer of limestone slabs, topped by thick stone (or brick) tiles about one foot square. Every high point is occupied by a stone guardhouse, most of which show signs of having been at least two stories; the passages are all fashioned of stone arches. Every few hundred meters there is a secret passage, with a stone block door that could be pushed out to let Chinese soldiers through or placed back in to conceal the passage from the Mongols. Most of this section of the wall is untouched, unrepaired for the past 400 years, but part of this section has been restored, with iron bracing to prevent collapse of the columns, and in general an attempt to preserve the original nature of the work. Along the unrestored section, many sections of the parapet wall are partly or completely destroyed; in several places the outer or inner wall has collapsed, exposing the stone fill. Most of the paving stones are gone from the unrestored sections, leaving the limestone exposed (slippery when wet); in many steeper areas even that is gone, leaving a jumble of stone fill to walk – I should say climb – on. Grass, weeds, and the occasional wildflower grows between stones. Along several sections bushes and even some trees have crowded in, covering part or all of the wall as the forest tries to recover its own. Where it is intact, the brick-work is pretty amazing. Because of the way it follows the exact ridgeline, it weaves back and forth as well as up and down, providing a perfect outline of the hill’s contours. Because the wall follows the ridgeline almost perfectly, there are many sections where it rises or falls quite steeply, with risers 12, 18, and even 24 inches high, tread as narrow as 6 inches, for a slope of 2:1, 3:1, and in a few places close to 4:1, in some places the steepest part is only 10 or 15 feet high, but in other places it is 40 or 50 feet or even more. Where the stairs have broken or come entirely off, what is left is the jumble of fill rock or just the underlying cliff face, some places solid and stable, but in other places it looks loose or slippery. Each time I came to one of these places, I calculated the risk by a pair of implicit formulae, risk = steepness times height times direction [1.2 if going down, .8 if going up*] motivation = confidence times need [how bad is the detour] divided by risk times tiredness. *going up is much less dangerous than going down. On the first day of hiking, even the steep places with paving stones and stairs broken out were not too high – a fall might result in a broken leg but probably not in a broken back. I think I went up all of these with little hesitation (there may have been one detour on the first day; there were several detours on the second day.) After a couple of hours of these steep ups and downs, interspersed with sections of relatively level paving, we came to a higher than usual peak, with two knobs. Each knob, of course, has its own guardhouse. From that vantage we had a great view in both directions. All of the guardhouses have small rooms to house a garrison below; in most cases you can see where wood pillars once stood, holding up the floor of a second story. Another hour or so brought us in sight of a colorful umbrella and a nylon canvas sun-shelter. When we reached the spot, we saw two men with coolers filled with beer, water, and soft drinks, and a handful of hikers resting in the shade. James bought two beers (one for the porter who, in the event, refused it) and I bought one; we carried them over the steep hill beyond the beer sellers and down to a level stretch. In the middle of this, James led the way off the wall on the south side to a nice level camp site, almost next to the wall but mostly screened by thick bushes. We took off our packs, sat down, and enjoyed our beers. We finished our beers, and the porter still hadn’t come, so we walked 30 or 40 yards on up the trail, to a low rise with a large guardhouse, second story still partly intact, off to the right (north) side of the trail. This is called the General’s Guardhouse because the commander of that section of the Wall had his HQ there. The next day we could look down from the next hill and see that it is part of a diamond shaped group of four guardhouses; the other three provide protection for the general. From the top we could see a very daunting sight, a staircase leading up what looked like a sheer cliff, at least 100 feet high. It is called the Stairway to Heaven; the hill it leads to is called “Eagle flying,” because it resembles an eagle with one wing stretched off toward the north and the other wing partly stretched out. I found the mountain and the stair both daunting and beautiful. No long after we returned to camp, the porter showed up with our camping gear. He wouldn’t take the beer James offered, but did accept a bottle of water. While we were setting up our tents, a Chinese couple stopped to chat a bit then moved on. For the first hour or two we had seen no-one else, but then we started seeing people, some in small groups of 4 or 5, but several large guided group, one group of maybe 20 American college students and a couple of groups nearly that large of Chinese college students. When we stopped at our camp site we could hear a very rowdy group of Chinese college students just over the next low hill. It was getting late, and James was somewhat worried about them, because the wall would be a bad place to be stranded after dark. Apparently the manager of the B&B where we would stay once saw lights on top of one of the peaks and had to go up in the dark to bring a group down. When we finished setting up the tents, James prepared dinner. It was quite a simple chore: two boxes, each with a sealed casserole, a packet of water, and an odd sponge-like pad. We placed the pad in the bottom of a separate sealable container, poured the water over it, and quickly put the casserole on top and sealed the container. The water started some kind of chemical reaction so that it quickly came to boil, and boiled for 12 minutes, whereupon we peeled back the lids and ate. Mine was a beef and potato stew over rice. Dessert was some candied mixed nuts and an apple. I still had most of a package of dark chocolate covered almonds, so I contributed those to dessert as well. We finished dinner with plenty of daylight left, so we walked back up the trail to the General’s guardhouse again. The young couple were still there; the guy wanted to talk to me: His English was pained but quite adequate. They have a son starting college at Penn and he wanted reassurance from me, which I gave him. They stayed there talking until the sun had gone down; I was worried about their getting stranded on the wall, but it turns out there is a trail down right at the guardhouse – it wouldn’t be pleasant walking on a steep mountain trail in the dark, but there are no edges to fall from. The college kids had also gone down, so we had the hill and the wall to ourselves. Back at camp we sat around talking until it got dark, and I went to bed while James finished putting the camp in order. James had brought a thin foam rubber pad for me, thinner than I usually use, but apparently adequate since I slept well. The sleeping bag was also thin but it didn’t matter; the night never got very cold and I slept with the bag pulled up only about halfway. Breakfast the next morning was tea, and he fried some bacon, mixed in cubed up apple, then mixed it in with rice he had already cooked; quite good. He did have some coffee for me – the Nescafe “1+2” instant coffee with sugar and creamer mixed in that seems to be the standard here – if I pretend it’s hot chocolate I can drink it. That’s good, because it’s all there is in the hotel and all I could find in most of the stores I looked in. Day 2 of hiking the wall. The morning’s hike began with a climb to a low knob between General’s house and Stairway to Heaven, through an arched tunnel under the guardhouse, where we could see Stairway. James explained that is the beginning of the section of the trail that has been restored, which is good because I would have considered the stairway impassable otherwise. It is not quite as steep as it looked from General’s house, but almost, with 2 foot risers and treads that range from less than six inches to about ten inches; the section with really narrow risers is probably 50 feet high; someone has strung a “rope,” actually a series of insulated wires, probably for appliance cords, tied together. I could have climbed without this “rope,” but holding onto it through the steepest part increased my confidence. This was one of several places where I blessed my long legs. James tells me that every year at least one person dies on this stretch of the wall – I really did not want to provide this year’s quota. James also explained that the wall served multiple purposes. In addition to providing a defensive barrier for 1200 years against the Mongols to the north, it was a barrier to smuggling, and a military highway for moving troops. Even when the wall was in better repair I had a hard time envisioning soldiers with weapons and packs going up and down many of the steep sections: It seems odd they did not do any switchbacks. From the other side the “eagle” looks like a lion. At the top of Stairway we climbed on up the eagle’s head to a point from which we could see the wall stretching out in either direction – and a different wall stretching off to the south from another high promontory called the Beijing Knot, because it serves as a junction. Climbing up past the guardhouse I saw and photographed several “wallflowers,” growing out from cracks between stones. Although this section of wall has been largely restored, we came to several steep drops 50 to 100 feet high, where the fallen stairs have not been restored. These were passable only by either rock-climbing or a very steep, ugly detour trail. I didn’t feel very secure climbing down them, so chose the detour trails, although these were themselves so steep and treacherous that I’d probably have been as well off doing the rock climbing. Above: James standing at the top of the section I decided not to descend. Left: the American starting up the dangerous route – just before backing down to the detour to the right. James reinforced my timidity by telling me about a young Chinese couple who had begun climbing one particularly treacherous area, the man in front. His cell-phone rang, he answered it, lost his balance and fell, knocking his wife off as well and they both died. While we were sitting on a high point facing this particular section a young American, wearing climbing shoes, passed us. He started up the rock-climb area, came to a spot where the rocks had entirely collapsed and started up it. James exclaimed “no! Not that way – go right!” Fortunately the guy realized his mistake before he got in too deep, backed down, and crossed over to a by-pass trail around the bad spot. The detours were bad enough that I wondered if I wouldn’t have been better off just climbing down the rocks. Above, one of the detours required crossing a steep gully on these two flimsy branches; drop of about 40 feet to a steep slide down another 100 feet. The branches were strong enough, but flexible and springy; I made it across by bracing against the stone. We reached the Beijing Knot at noon, sat and ate lunch and enjoyed the view for an hour. James had assured me that morning that we would be the only ones on the wall on a Monday morning, but we met several groups, including two Chinese hiking clubs and, just before we left the area, a group of four college age kids from Malaysia. I felt a bit wimpy for refusing to climb down the final section after seeing those four kids take it in stride, but looking over the edge convinced me that I didn’t want to chance it, with two more steep downhill rock climbs between the Beijing Knot and our path back to the B&B. So we turned back and took a different route down to the village. Above: where I turned back. This is the first of three steep rock-climbing descents. Our room: The Chinese government provides a subsidy, around $12000 US per year, to villagers, to keep them there. In this village, most of them seemed to be spending the subsidy building tourist accommodations: ours was still under construction. Our own room was small, two twin beds and no chairs, with a clean pleasant bathroom and shower. No luxuries, but clean and comfortable. Beds were firm; good night’s sleep. Dinner was a beef and tofu stew (spine bones I think, tasty but a little chewy). Another dish, a black tree fungus, shaped like kelp leaves, very tasty, with scrambled egg and carrots. A third dish, carrots, potatoes, peanuts, and a couple of other vegetables I couldn't identify, chestnuts perhaps. Breakfast: egg stirred in with rice and fried. Somewhat plain but tasty and filling. It rained on and off all night, and was still raining all morning. About noon it appeared to be stopping; the forecast said clearing, so we drove to a different trailhead and started up the mountain. This hike was longer, nearly an hour to a guardhouse from which we had a great view of the wall and the mountains stretching out to the west, with fog and cloud wisps rising out of the valleys; very picturesque. To the east, thicker clouds, and a higher hill. James warned that the far side is steep with no stairs, just paving stones, and might be dangerously slippery in the rain. However, when we started up that hill most of the paving stones were gone, exposing the limestone under-layer, which I found dangerously slippery. The clouds had thickened up again and it did not appear that we would have any more of a view from the top than what we already had. I wimped out and suggested we just go back, which we did. Although it is autumn, I saw some lovely flowers I’ve never seen before (above). Overall assessment: I was a bit disappointed by the weather – the first two days were very hazy, smog from the valley, which limited the view, then rain. I was probably overly cautious about the rock-climbing sections, but what I did was very enjoyable. However, overall, I was not at all disappointed in the experience, and would strongly recommend it to anyone who is in China for more than a week or so: I can’t imagine that visiting the crowded tourist section would be nearly as satisfying. James is an excellent guide and I will strongly recommend him. He is fun to be with and enjoyable to talk with; knows the wall and its history very well, is attentive but not overly-attentive. I would supplement his recommendations in a couple of ways. He recommends hiking boots: I agree, although I could see the sense in that American guy’s climbing shoes. Trekking poles are helpful going up to and down from the wall, mostly useless on the wall itself, but essential on the detours, where they are essential to keep from sliding down the steep sandy stretches. Almost anyone with at least a moderate level of fitness will enjoy the hike – but not if you have a tendency toward acrophobia! Even mild vertigo would be a challenge in several places. Good rock climbing skills seem necessary in the Jiankou section – I skipped some interesting passages because I don’t have enough confidence in my own climbing skills. With respect to the rock climbing area, James told me that he has other equally remote stretches that don’t have such daunting climbs and descents; it is important to communicate your interests and limits clearly. I would not have missed this hike: It joins Death Valley and the Machu Picchu trek on my growing list of favorite hikes. If I come to China again, I will almost certainly include another hike on a remote section of the wall on my itinerary. Sept. 11. Beijing: Forbidden City, Beihai Park, Jinshang Park. I got up early, as usual, did some stretching, worked on my journal, then had breakfast. (The only disappointing part of this hotel – they have American and two different European style breakfasts; all include wheat-based items. They think there may be flour in the pre-packaged hash browns they use, so I end up with a few scrambled eggs, a couple slices of greasy bacon and a couple of small sausages – they don’t have any fruit, though the neighborhood has several first-rate fruit markets, and apparently don’t feel obliged to substitute anything for the hash browns and toast. I was finished by 7:50 and set out for the Forbidden City, a walk of about 40 minutes. The square in front of the gate was jammed with people, huge platoons of tour people, police keeping order. I stood in line for the tickets / security but was told I had to go to a different window to buy a ticket. It didn’t take all that long. I also bought an English self-guiding machine, which was quite useful both for explaining the layout and for giving the history. The entire compound is a kilometer long, with a sequence of palace-lined courtyards and a really interesting inner garden. Unfortunately, although there appears to be an interesting display in each building, you are not allowed to enter them, and most can be seen only through very dirty glass; the smears inside the window plus the reflected glares means very little can be seen; the crowds are so thick that the ones that are open (but chained off to prevent entry) are also difficult to look into. Eventually I gave up on looking into the rooms of the palaces, just enjoyed the architecture and the many statues of symbolic animals, walked back to the entry, where I found that you can climb up onto the wall, so I walked back along the wall, looking over the entire compound, descended and left by the opposite gate. I was glad I visited, but 2 hours was more than enough, especially with the crowds. (It actually got less crowded later in the morning.) I crossed the street to Jingshan Park – entrance free because of my age – climbed up to a pavilion from which you can see over the entire city, including Forbidden City. The pavilion was closed, but the viewing platform open. This park is small but pretty with nice benches and some very pretty flower gardens. Beihai Park is even lovelier, on a small island in a lake, with several kinds of pretty little boats you can rent, flower gardens and pagodas all over the place, a Buddhist temple with some interesting statues, and topped by a white domed bagoda (a different spelling of pagoda?) I walked around there for quite a while before walking toward home. On the way home I found a grocery store where I was finally able to buy instant coffee without sugar and creamer mixed in (“1+2”, all this hotel has and all I had been able to find in other stores). Another fruit shop had watermelon samples out; they were delicious so I bought a pack of cutup watermelon large enough for dessert for two nights. Neither the hotel dining room nor the restaurants I’ve visited have fruit on the menu, although it is abundant in fruit shops all over town. I was unable to find the restaurant James recommended, so selected a restaurant that looked interesting. There I had a really nice salad (“vegetable bowl”) and two squid, whole but cleaned, flattened and roasted on spits; very delicious. Sept. 12. Longqing Gorge and Guyaju Caves. Longquing Gorge is an interesting and (based on my limited experience) typically Chinese attraction. The gorge itself is, for good reason, listed as a UNESCO World Heritage geological site. The walls are over 1000 feet high, rising straight up for 200 to 1000 feet, with deep slot canyons scattered all along. The gorge was dammed some time ago, unfortunate, but the lake snaking through the canyon has its own appeal. So alongside or atop this geological wonderland, is an amusement park, complete with a huge dragon housing an escalator to the top of the dam and a long slide – actually more bobsled with wheels – starting at about 1/3 of the way back down. Atop this layer are the ubiquitous Buddhist shrines and a temple. At the top of the dam, it isn’t at all clear how to get down to the ramp with about 20 tour boats – I wandered around for some time, including an unplanned excursion through a tunnel lined with cute little dioramas. I finally found the boat landing, bought a ticket, and rode maybe a mile up the lake through the canyon to a point where the boat turned around then dropped us off at a dock, where a trail leads over a low rise, past a temple, down to another boat landing. A side trail leads up the hill (800 feet up the hill, I discovered), past another temple, to a pavilion – Heavenly Peace I think – with magnificent views of the lake and the mountains that form its walls. Walking back down, I also noticed a side trail leading to a little half-moon bay (for which the boat landing is named) where you can rent a small wooden boat and paddle around. But you have to stay within the roped off area and can’t go out onto the main body of the lake, so it isn’t much of a boat ride. After a 10 minute wait a boat came and I boarded along with a dozen other passengers, including one man who got impatient with the boat operator for taking a long break before shoving off to take us back. Back at the dam there is a gondola that crosses the lake and goes about 800 or 1000 feet up a narrow canyon. At the top, a path leads past several explanatory plaques, past a couple of shrines, to a staircase that goes 400 feet up to another pavilion with magnificent views of the lake, the mountain range beyond, and in the other direction the small town and the farmland beyond the mouth of the lake. At the bottom of the gondola again, I decided to rent one of the little bobsled carts and ride down to the parking lot. That was a lot of fun, actually. Guyaju Caves is a marvelous place. The trail leading to it is, again, lined with explanations of the granite features. The main attraction, a couple of hundred feet up from the bottom of the canyon, is a couple of large clusters of dwellings cut into the face of the cave, some of which have several rooms, 8-10 inch thick walls, platforms, and support pillars about a foot in diameter. Most were fenced off but entry was allowed into a few. I noticed what was obviously originally shallow footholds for climbing up to the higher caves; the preservation people have filled most of them with a mixture (probably concrete) that blends reasonably well with the granite. Sept. 13, last full day in Beijing I woke up to rain, which worried me, but by the time I had finished breakfast the rain was finished – but it was humid and cloudy all day. I decided to start the day with the Beijing Museum of Natural History – but first I went to nearby Beijing South train station to pick up my ticket for tomorrow, to be sure I won’t be too rushed. As it turned out it only took 10 minute – short line. But the experience of taking the subway there convinced me I don’t want to try to jam myself on to 3 different subway cars with 3 bags at morning rush hour, so I will take a cab. The hotel clerks tell me it shouldn’t be more than 35 or 40 Yuan – the previous driver clearly cheated me badly, which I thought at the time. I decided to avoid the subway crowding, and walked back the 2 miles to the museum. Like so many attractions here, it is free to me because I’m over 65. It is interesting – they have some nice animated exhibits, but I was hoping for exhibits featuring some of the spectacular fossils that have been found in China, and there wasn’t much. Only a few signs were translated into English, so it was difficult to follow the plot; I only stayed a little over an hour. There is another attraction adjacent to the museum, but it is totally walled in so you have to walk halfway around, about a half mile, to get in. That is the 400 year old Temple of Heaven, which occupies a huge park, where kids play, lovers snuggle, and to my delight an elderly woman was dancing to traditional Chinese music. I watched her for 15 or 20 minutes and snapped a couple of pictures. When I got up to leave I caught her eye, bowed the traditional Hindu / Buddhist bow. She smiled and bowed back, twice. It was a lovely moment in a really pretty park. The temple itself is located in the center of the park, surrounded by support buildings such as a music practice room. As usual, it is difficult to get a look inside; given the crowds, it is obvious why they don’t let tourists actually enter. I don’t think I’ve said much about this hotel, the Happy Dragon City Culture Hotel. It cost me an average of a bit over $100 per night, and I consider it an excellent bargain. It’s on one of Beijing’s tiny narrow alleys, a half block from a busy street lined with shops and interesting little cafes, two of which I have sampled and found quite good. It is close to two subway stops, and a relatively easy walk to several attractions, including Forbidden City and Temple of Heaven. There are numerous fruit and vegetable markets and a couple of pretty full-product supermarkets on the streets at either end of the alley; the fruit is almost as good as at Portland’s Farmer’s Market, for a fraction of the price. My current room has a large king-size bed, one kind of crappy chair (the previous room had a queen and a double and a much better chair, but this room also has a private balcony / deck with four very comfortable patio chairs – covered, so good even when it rains. The bed is firm, the room including shower very clean. Coffee in the room is Nestles 1+2, which already has sugar and creamer in it; fortunately after just one day I found a market that sells Nestles’ freeze-dried black coffee. The only negative is the included breakfast, a choice of French toast (out for me), Swiss Breakfast (centers around muesli, which usually has wheat in it), American Breakfast – the only realistic option for me, but leave out the toast and hash-browns which may be flour-sprinkled, so it leaves scrambled eggs, a piece of bacon and a piece of sausage, all rather greasy. No fruit. But I quickly supplemented it with my own fruit. The staff is very friendly and helpful. Sept. 14 Train to Huangshan I was advised to leave the hotel early, because traffic might be heavy. However, on a Saturday morning it was very light; 30 minutes to the station. Cab fare, 39 yuan, less than $6.00. Too bad I didn’t think to get the other driver’s number, he really cheated me. Arrived a full 50 minutes early. Half window seat – F1, front of the car. Tip: It’s as bad as some airplanes, solid wall in front limits leg room, and the window stretches only a foot in front of the seat. Leaning back improved the view. Train was nearly full the entire way so moving to a different window seat for more leg-room wasn’t an option. There was a thick haze almost the entire way, visibility a mile or less, smog I think. I got my presentation for Carl’s students prepared, and worked back through the chapters I have already written on my next book before I ran out of steam, an hour before we reached Huangshan. I could draft several of the chapters but I would rather have my sources in front of me. A couple of things I haven’t mentioned. Food preparers and servers almost all wear a little plastic half-cup shield in front of mouth and nose, to prevent breathing on the food. My earlier comments about queuing behavior: I noticed repeatedly in Beijing that men, mostly late teens and 20s, will push in front of the line every time they get a chance – no-one seems to object and no one calls them on it. I’ve commented on the high-rises sprinkled across the landscape. In Beijing, the hotel was on a narrow alley barely wide enough for one car, mostly dingy greyish shack-looking buildings, mostly one story. They might be pretty comfortable inside. Streets: Jaywalking effectively prevented by 4 foot high white wire fences in the middle of all the arterials. I brought gluten-free soy sauce; so far I haven’t seen soy sauce on a table anywhere. Maybe southern China. Snacks have been a problem; I was thrilled to find bulk peanuts in a supermarket, and the fruit is mostly delicious. Parks all charge admission, 20 or 30 yuan, $3-$4 for city parks as well as the national park attractions in the mountains. Except we didn’t pay anything to hike the wall because that section is not improved. A sign said “Not open to the public” but James ignored it; apparently that does not have the force of “no trespassing.” Eating is cheap: Crispy duck was my most expensive meal, around $21; the squid and scallop dinners I had were $6 to $9. Once I got my phone fixed I have full access to the internet including Google by setting up a hot spot, through my wireless signal. If you buy an iPhone in China, its chip includes blocking software. WiFi is completely blocked. The train has been consistently going between 250 and 300 km/hour (150-180 mph). It only feels that fast when we meet another train. It is reasonably comfortable, equivalent to an airline seat, although 7 hours on any seat is pretty grim. However, much of the Chinese countryside is quite lovely with well-tended farms and gardens. Many of the houses are hidden from view by the soundscreen next to the railway, but those I can see are mixed; some new, neat, and tidy, some much older and looking a bit run-down and unkempt. Huangshan City As soon as I checked into the hotel the guide, Juston, led me on a nice walk to the “old street,” a narrow street 1 km long, with architecture dating back as far as 400 years. This is a national 3 day holiday, “mid-autumn festival,” and the various food shops all had samples out: pickles and little bread rolls. Several shops had huge “inkstone” carvings, one had three marvelous dragons. Unfortunately. the shop interior was too dark; the picture I took did not come out well. Huangshan – The mountain resort. There is a cable car to the top of the mountain but I chose to walk – a 2400 foot climb, literally just one long staircase. Quite warm at the bottom, pleasant at the top but dense fog, very humid. I did manage to get a couple of decent photos through the fog. 80% of the supplies are carried up by porter; not surprisingly I had to pass about 60 on the way up – difficult to do; they carry loads balanced on long poles, pretty well blocking the entire path. At the top, crowds of people. I had a hard time finding the hotel entrance, mainly because of a huge restoration project, and my clothing was all soaked with sweat from the climb. I had to change shirts before going in for lunch – a buffet with dishes, once again, I’ve never seen before plus one (finally) I recognize from Chinese restaurants in the U.S. – fried rice. I chose the cold boiled duck, eggplant, eggs with black mushrooms, and bamboo shoot / pork for a nice filling lunch. The afternoon turned out much foggier; it would thin a little, then thicken up to the point that you couldn’t even see the hills on either side. I mostly sat in my room, working on photos and looking out at the dense fog. Dinnertime, and it had closed in even worse. Meals are all buffet-style and it’s not hard to avoid gluten. I had what was cut like a fish steak but it was river fish, very bony and hard to eat. I also had a number of delicious shrimp, which they dip in a vinegar, garlic, and ginger sauce, some more of the green soy beans, stir-fried greens, some salad greens with corn kernels and sliced ginger, fried rice, and slices of apple and some cherry tomatoes (treated as fruit here, which technically they are) to finish the meal. Midafternoon I really wanted some ice cream; the desk clerk had to unlock a padlock on the ice cream chest. Guide read several ingredients lists – all mentioned wheat, including “wheat sugar” in one, probably meaning malt. I gave up – anyway if the chest was locked, they were probably all old and icy. Juston told me this hotel was initially built as a retreat for Party officials; mass tourism started only 20 or so years ago. It is now being rapidly expanded and renovated (with construction materials mostly carried up by porters) to accommodate the needs of a rapidly growing Chinese middle class. I have seen a few Europeans, no Americans as far as I could tell, but it is mostly Chinese. There is not much hotel accommodation on the mountain; most of the tourists ride the gondola up in the morning, see the highlights, and ride back down at night. Day 2 Huangshan Day 2 started out much better. When I awoke at 4:45 it was dense fog, so I decided to shower and have coffee in stead of going out for the sunrise, but by the time I’d finished it was clearing so I threw on some clothes and dashed out. I almost missed a glorious display of pre-dawn gold lighting up the fog to the east (got no good pictures of it) but I did get some nice pictures of nearby mountains, in and out of the fog. Back for breakfast: boiled eggs, rice, some stir-fried vegetables, lots of delicious looking wheat items I couldn’t eat. After breakfast we walked past the hotel where we would have lunch, then descended a long series of stairs into the “Grand Canyon.” Juston only went part way down, told me to turn back when I saw the sign for the funicular railway. All the steps and the level walkways are stone blocks set in mortar, usually 2 meters wide. Part of the walkway including some of the stairs is just anchored to the side of the cliff; other parts tunnel through rocks that jut out. By 10 am crowds were getting very thick huge tour groups of 20 or more people shouting to hear the echo, tour guides with their amplifiers, noisy and raucous. The fog was rising out of the canyon in patches, perfect for photographing the “Chinese painting” effect. I hiked down to a few hundred feet above the bottom of the canyon, stopped to have some peanuts for a snack, then hiked back up to meet my guide at the fork in the trail. Two different groups wanted a photograph with me, which I take as flattering. Almost everyone is really friendly, but sometimes getting past a crowd listening to their tour guide is a huge challenge. I was hiking much faster than the tour planner expected, so Juston suggested we ride a different gondola down to the north side of the park. I agreed, then he told me it would cost Y320 total (about $50), Y80 each, each way. He wanted me to give him the money, since he gets chits for free rides inside the park – so this is his way to supplement his income. The fog set in before we got on the gondola, but 1/3 of the way down we broke out under the cloud layer. It is pretty, and the little stream at the bottom forms some very nice pools, carved into the rock, each with a classic Chinese poem or saying carved into it. It was pretty and interesting, but scarcely worth $50. Oh, well. The fog had cleared more by the time we got back to the top so I got to see more of the rocks near the top close up. At the top, it was a short walk back to the lunch hotel. Lunch, another buffet: I chose a potato & beef dish, chicken leg in Chinese spices, boiled greens, fried rice, and “steamed eggs” – basically a custard with no flavoring or sugar, finishing off with cherry tomatoes and apple slices. I saw “strawberry juice”; what a surprise when I took a sip and it was hot. The Chinese don’t drink cold water; hot is always preferred, warm a fall-back. I’ve learned to be very sparing when I see the little red or green chilis, and the dish that looked like baked squash was labelled “fried chili dregs” so I did not chance that. Juston had a couple of beautiful looking steam buns; I wish I could still eat them. After lunch we set out on a 1.5 km ramble, mostly uphill, past a stone called “flying stone” because of the way it stands slightly leaning above a steep high cliff. I took a picture also of the steps carved into the rock – these are everywhere. After that we hiked on up to the weather station which affords a panoramic view in almost every direction; it is only a 10 minute walk (uphill of course) from the hotel, so a good place for sunset and sunrise. Crowds thick at the weather station, of course, but they may thin down by sunset. My room in this hotel is smaller – no chairs – but does have trees and rhododendron bushes outside the window, so it was a good place to relax. When I transferred pictures from my Canon SLR I had a nasty shock – a piece of dirt or lint or something produced a small blur on the extreme left of some of my best pictures. It can be cropped out, but at the expense of the composition. Tomorrow I will duplicate more photos on both the iPhone and the Canon to insure against this kind of problem repeating. Even though the western sky was thick with haze, I walked back up to the weather station to see the sunset. As I expected, it sank into a thick haze and disappeared, casting a faint pinkish violet glow, not enough to color the mountain peaks even. It was fun, though, for people-watching; the place was swarming with sunset worshippers. Dinner: more shrimp, a really nice dish with duck pieces, boiled chestnuts (excellent), broccoli and greens, both stir-fried, a salad (I took greens and mushrooms they had prepared for a noodle soup and ate them raw), a fish dish that wasn’t bony, tomatoes, cucumbers and cut up pears for dessert. The room was not very good – no chair to sit in, vile sewer smell coming up out of the shower. One of those weird Japanese electric toilets. Day 3. Woke up at 4:40, looked out the window and saw a lone star, so I showered, had a quick cup of coffee and left my room at 5:03. 5:15 I reached the top, having passed over a hundred Chinese on the way up, but the good viewing spots were already lined 3 deep with even earlier arrivers. A cool breeze; I had to put on both pullover and windbreaker. I found a place where I could watch the thick haze slowly taking on a sickly pink-orange; obvious this was not going to be a record-breaking spectacular sunrise so I started enjoying the spectacle of the crowd, by now 6-20 people deep behind the protective rail. I quit before sunrise, when all the color was out of the thick haze, but as I walked down, I still met Chinese hurrying to get to the top before official sunrise. Exactly why is an interesting question, since there was really nothing to see but haze and distant peaks dimly silhouetted in the haze. When 6:30 came I made the mistake of going to breakfast at exactly 6:30, scarcely realizing that all those sunrise-watchers would arrive at about that time. It was a madhouse, and most of the available food had wheat in it. I managed to get some fried eggs, fried rice, and some cooked greens and find a seat just when another man vacuated it; after I finished that I got some tomatoes and cucumbers to round it out. The only coffee was the pre-sweetened, pre-creamed “1+2.” Juston finished his breakfast a little before 8; we shouldered our packs and left, but we weren’t early enough. Several large groups were already on the way up to the “turtle riding a fish” peak. To the east, mist so thick there was no point taking pictures, but to the west it was almost clear and I got several more interesting photos, as if I needed more. After the “turtle” peak we went down into a saddle, then started up Lotus Peak. Part way up, as he usually did, Juston sent me on up while he took the low road, saying he would meet me on the other side. The path here is a series of steep and very steep stone steps, some flights carved into the wall, some extremely narrow. Many have ropes or rails – and many of the hand-rails are themselves carved into the wall. Fortunately I didn’t meet many groups going down, and indeed the steep trail weeded out a good share of the tourists. Nearer to the top, the trail went through several tunnels and under low-leaning rocks. At the very top, the viewing area (a round knob of stone with a guard wall around it) was pretty crowded, but I was able to get some more pictures, including a picture of the trail we had just descended from “Turtle Riding Fish,” Now lined with tourists all the way down to the saddle. The trail on the other side is even steeper, with many tunnels, some requiring me to inch through in a low crouch, and several sections of steep stairs with narrow treads that had neither rope nor rail. To make matters worse, there were people coming up that side, so it was often necessary either to wait while a string of people came up or, on the slightly less narrow stretches, squeeze past the oncoming traffic. Takeaway lesion: Do not visit this park on a weekend or on a national holiday! Juston tells me that an average of 10,000 people visit every day, and on major holidays as many as 100,000 arrive. Many of the tourists stay in hotels below and ride one of the gondolas up, often staying within a kilometer or so of the top of the gondola. As I got lower and lower, the crowds got thicker and I began to encounter large tour groups. Most of the tour group guides are really annoying; they have loudspeakers they turn up so high that you can hear them all over the mountain, all yelling at once. When I reached the saddle I was desperate just to get off that mountain! Crowds were so thick it was difficult to move anywhere at all, noise everywhere. The hour on that last part of the mountain was the only part of the three days that I did not enjoy. I opted for the gondola ride, which added another Y90 to my expense, but I really didn’t think hiking down 2800 feet of steep trail would be at all fun. I had also decided to visit the ancient village of Hongcun, which also added Y600 to the tab, so I had to visit a bank to withdraw some money from an ATM. I was beginning to feel a bit nickel and dimed but I put it behind me. On the way to Hongcun we stopped to look at and photograph a 200 year old covered bridge, and I also took a photo of a large hillside tea field. We also passed several villages; most of the villages in the area have 3 story buildings I thought were apartments, but Juston says most are inhabited by extended families. Once in Hongcun we went to a restaurant in the new part of town for lunch – Juston said he was taking me to a family-run restaurant, not one of the tourist places, but there were two other groups of Americans with guides, and he said the establishment had a separate area for guides to eat, rather than eating with their clients. “Not a tourist restaurant,” indeed! The food was good, including a dish of chicken cooked in a chili and ginger sauce with some chestnuts. After lunch we went to see the old town itself, parking in a large parking lot already half full. We were barely inside the town before we began to hear the ubiquitous amplified tour guides, bot the town is quite pretty and interesting. We managed to avoid them for most of the visit. you approach the town from across a small lake (large pond) half full of lotus plants, with an old stone arched bridge near the center. Almost all the buildings have the classic “fishtail” roofs (many with literal fishtails carved into them), a building style still used for almost all the new buildings in the region. Alleys are narrow, but electric motor scooters and small tricycle carts are ubiquitous. The town gets 2 million visitors each year, but 10,000 descendants of the original inhabitants still live there (and make a good part of their living from the tourist trade – a share of admission fees plus selling all sorts of things, ranging from trinkets to food items and beautiful wood carvings. We visited several historic buildings, complete with delicate carvings in stone and wood. All are still inhabited, so only a few of the classic rooms are open to the public. A few were still furnished in the old style of furniture, giving a sense of how rich businessmen lived 200 to 600 years ago. After walking around most of the town, we sat down in the garden of a teahouse, next to a pond full of lotus plants, a very cool influence on an excessively warm afternoon. Overall assessment: Both Huangshan and Honcun are well worth visiting, and I enjoyed both. Huangshan is beautiful and interesting for the mountain scenery, and very interesting culturally for how Chinese deal with their natural beauty. The dense crowds are not a surprise: With a population of 1.5 billion and a growing middle class, there will be crowds at tourist spots. Hangzhou Sept. 18 below: view from the Northern Height The high-speed train to Hangzhou was pleasant. I was going to finish up my journal for Huangshan but a very nice Chinese businessman with fluent English sat next to me and started a conversation; we talked at least half of the two hour trip. One of the great pleasures of travel! My friends Min Zhu and Xuede Zhao (Carl) met me at the station – miraculously, since it is a huge station, and my cell phone was not receiving a signal, so I could not receive their frantic messages to me. I was so thrilled to see Min I could hardly contain myself. (One of the first tasks for the next day was a call to T-Mobile to get it straightened out with their Chinese partner.) The city is huge – 10 million people – and traffic so dense it took over an hour to get to my hotel. I checked in, washed my sweaty face and arms and put on a clean shirt (I was still wearing my hiking clothing) and Carl took me to dinner at a place across the street from the hotel. I didn’t get to bed until 10:30. [Left: me beside inscription of Mao’s poem] The next morning I went down to breakfast at 6:30 when they start serving – a mistake as it turned out. Several men, hotel workers I think, were there waiting for it to open. Breakfast is served, like at all the other hotels, buffet style – the men were almost chaotic, like the Marx Brothers do buffet eating; each of them appropriated one of the serving tongs, they dashed back and forth between dishes – I finally stepped to the side and waited for them all to fill their plates before trying to figure out what I could eat and filling my own. As usual, half of the most appealing dishes were steam buns and other flour-based items, but they had a cook frying eggs, and several dishes of stir-fried vegetables as well as a platter of watermelon slices. No coffee, not even the ubiquitous 1+2 pre-creamed and sugared coffee. Fortunately, I had my Nestles’ Instant coffee crystals back in my room. Below: Carl and me beside Mao’s inscription for the site Carl picked me up at the hotel, as we had agreed, at about 8, for what turned out to be a truly marvelous day. He had accurately guessed which of Hangzhou’s many tourist attractions I would find particularly interesting. We started with the “Northern Heights” featured in the MaoTze-Tung poem we had analyzed in a couple of the papers we wrote together while he was in Portland. It is not quite as high as Mao’s poem implied – a 30 minute climb up the usual stone stairs, maybe 500 feet to a hilltop capped by a viewing pavilion and a lovely Buddhist temple – but the architecture is spoiled by a cell tower that is planted squarely over it so I did not take any pictures. I did, however, take pictures of the stone that has Mao’s poem inscribed in it, and another stone with Mao’s comments about the mountain. I also took a couple of pictures of the river and the city, much of which is visible from the pavilion. Carl did obeisance at each of the Buddha’s – good luck, he tells me – they were all very well-done shrines, before statues of Buddha and various figures from Buddhist mythology. Next stop: We took a different route down from the temple, to Linguine Feilai Park, where we encountered moderate crowds, including several tours, but not dense enough to be a problem. It is a lovely park with several attractive features, but the star attraction is the 1000 year old Buddhist bas-relief statues carved into the stone face of the cliffs. Most of these are set into a carved box-like chamber; some are full enough to be called statues rather than bas-relief. When we reached the end of the statues we faced a choice of which path to take; we chose to continue forward, eventually descending to the base of the cliff again, where we encountered a huge vine, almost a foot in diameter, across the trail and running up to a high branch. We stepped around it, and saw a limestone cavern. When we entered it we saw dozens of small bas reliefs of Buddhist saints. After that we came to several more limestone caverns, some with small bas relief statues, some with quite large carvings, then more carvings in the cliff face. This park should be on the itinerary for any visit to Hangzhou! The final stop for the morning is a park featuring a huge 14 story pagoda, which we climbed, and a collection of pagodas from different eras, mostly located in wooded areas. I will copy in just a couple of the photos I took. After the visit, Carl took me to lunch at a near-by restaurant, where he continued his project of introducing me to as many new dishes as possible. The feature here was small shrimp in a kind of cream sauce, seasoned with cream cheese and ginkgo nuts, which was delicious. Another dish featured fresh bamboo shoots stir-fried with long thin spears of Chinese yams, a white tuber. Third was a heap of a stringy vegetable that Carl identified as asparagus lettuce – he showed me a picture, literally an asparagus like stalk topped with a lettuce-like display of frothy leaves. Also delicious. The first lecture, to undergraduates, did not turn out as well as the lecture in Wuhan, mainly because of some crossed signals. I had prepared an introduction to metaphor theory, but Carl suggested a lecture about studying in the US would be more interesting and useful, so that is what I was ready to give. The difficulty was compounded by technical difficulties setting up the PPT files, and by the fact that the room was filled over capacity, and excessively hot. The dean introduced me, mentioning metaphor theory. I asked her and Carl which lecture they wanted me to give, they said go ahead with the study abroad lecture. Only a handful of students were interested, only three questions, so there were 25 minutes left; they encouraged me to do metaphor. With only 25 minutes I had to skip some slides; as with the other lecture, only a few questions, and I didn’t feel I had managed to get the key points across. It wasn’t a total disaster but I think if I’d realized these were all Min’s students, I would have consulted her about the lecture and it would have been a lot smoother. After the lecture Carl showed me around the campus – very nice, with some green lawns, a view of the lush forested hills on either side (both bamboo and other trees), a small wooded hill near the center of campus with a viewing pavilion, a small lake with a zig-sag bridge across it, a geometrically designed opera house / performance center. We ended up at a student cafeteria with a restaurant on the 3d floor – apparently a common feature of Chinese universities, where Carl treated me to another new experience – the “hot pot” that James told me I should try. They create a stock by boiling bones (Carl told me no-one drinks the “foundation” stock after I had sipped a small bowlful). Four pork knuckle bones were in the stock; they provide plastic gloves to handle the bones for gnawing, and small straws to sip the marrow through. There are small plates on which to put condiments – for me, minced garlic, sesame paste and some peanut sauce, a little vinegar and chili oil – you dip things in the condiments. We selected shrimp dumplings and a number of vegetables, including potato slices, Chinese yams, bamboo shoots, frozen tofu chunks, seaweed (each piece tied in a bow-like knot), and spinach. We dumped everything but the spinach in and didn’t start eating until the stock had come to a boil in – to keep from overcooking, we put the spinach leaves in a few at a time. It was delicious and fun. Min showed up from her thesis defense about 6. We finished eating about 6:20 and got in her car to drive across town to the big lake, where she had tickets for a musical performance. Getting there was an adventure in itself; still heavy traffic, and she reached toe location with just 15 minutes before it was due to start, only to find the parking lot full already. We drove on down the road a half mile, paralleling a long block hotel, the Shangri-La. She turned into a road behind the hotel, drove up a low hill and finally found a place to park in the middle; by now time was getting tight. We found a back door into the “backstage” area of the hotel, found our way through to the customer area on the 3d floor. Along the way we encountered several staff, who accepted Min’s explanations, and helped by directing us. Elevator down, street level, and we were on the wrong side of the street. Most Chinese streets have barriers in the middle, and often along each side, to prevent Jaywalking, and there wasn’t a cross-walk in sight. We finally found a break in the center barrier and crossed, but could not get through the barrier on the other side, so we had to back-track to a break, walking alongside a busy street, then double back to the ticket office to pick up the will-call tickets. We made it to our seats just as the performance was beginning. The performance itself, organized by famed Chinese director Zhang Yimou, was spectacular – a blend of different Hangzhou cultural offerings, all set within a light-show that embraced the entire lake and made great use of the lake as reflection. A Buddhist temple on the far side was lighted with red and orange spot-lights, a huge moon stood directly across from the viewing bleachers, and the trees on the far shore were lighted up, with the colors changing from time to time. Later in the performance, spotlights were used to create geometric patterns of different colors in the sky, and various constructions rose out of the water – first a fan that opened fully so the reflection was a full circle, with constantly changing patterns, then a huge arch that framed some ballet dancers, then a large geometric construction. I took only a few pictures because I wanted to focus on the performance not on picture taking. Some of the performers stood or were seated on round floating platforms that moved on and off “stage”; but most of the dancers performed in the water, on stages built underwater, so they were covered with a few inches of water. It opened with a woman (on a circular float) playing a traditional instrument, the two Chinese opera singers doing a duet, while rows of dancers on the near side and on the far side of the water came out, wearing large brim hats that, when they bowed, resembled a row of full moons. After that, a pas de deux (in the water) from Romeo and Juliet by two ballet dancers, then a long elaborate scene from Swan Lake, also partly in the water, but partly on a stage behind the large arch, rigged with mirrors that turned the solist into a duet then a whole troop, ending with an overhead mirror so the dancer(s) touched hands with upside down dancers overhead. Another interesting effect: near the end of one of the dances, the dancers repeated bowed, then straightened up throwing handsful of water high in the air to catch the lights. There were traditional Chinese folk songs, some contemporary songs, more Chinese folk dance groups (on both sides of the lake, and throughout all, a marvelous display of light and color. All too soon it was over (it lasted only 45 minutes). Short as it was, it has to be one of the most fascinating and absorbing things I’ve seen so far – what an ending to a long and adventure-filled day! Min tells me that it was designed and organized by one of China’s most celebrated directors; it was evident that many other top-quality artists were involved, the lighting, the dancers and singers… I wish I could go back to see it again! Sept. 19. Min and Carl both had classes this morning so I spent the morning in my hotel room catching up on my photos and my journal. Min picked me up at noon and took me to lunch – a continuation of Carl’s determination that I try as many new Chinese dishes as possible; a whole roast chicken, several new vegetables including a thick sliced green vegetable, texture like a root vegetable, that is called “lettuce.” Min was shocked when I ate the chicken tail – which concentrates flavor. I also tried the chicken feet – not much on them but it is tasty; you have to kind of suck it off. There was also a shrimp dish. After lunch we drove to West Lake, which is ringed with parks and cultural attractions, including a boat ride out to an island that has some lovely gardens, and an inner lake or pond. One of the main attractions on this island is a poet’s house that has some really lovely carved stone windows that frame the gardens. Back on shore I took a photo of a floating mansion, which houses a restaurant. We walked up to a hill that houses the successor to a famous historic pagoda – the original collapsed several decades ago, and it had to be rebuilt. Among other things it houses some beautiful wood carvings and paintings of mythological and historical scenes, including some paintings of Hangzhou from well before the industrial era. From the top I took photos of a historic Buddhist temple across the street – but it had just closed when we got there and we were unable to tour it. Because of traffic tie-ups we barely made it to the restaurant where the dean was hosting a banquet – for me, a Chinese metaphor researcher. Sun Yi, and about 8 touring German engineers – an odd collection. Min initially sat next to me but changed places with Yi, so we could begin getting acquainted. There were 20 dishes. Min and Carl checked with the waitress and warned me off 10 of them – one, vinegar fish, I had already tasted but it must not have much gluten since I experienced no bad effects. There was also a plate of thin beefsteaks, tough it turned out, and a whole roast goose. I struggled with a beefsteak and a piece of goose with my chopsticks for about 5 minutes, gave up and ate them with my hands. There were shrimp again – most Chinese eat shell and all, throwing away only the head. I tried it and the plastic texture of the shell is unpleasant so I reverted, again, to my fingers to peel before eating. I don’t think my use of my fingers shocked anyone too much. I can’t recall all the other dishes, but I remember the lotus root – crisp and tasty – and the other crisp vegetable slices including “lettuce” fresh bamboo shoots, and Chinese yam. I had to get up early on Friday morning to pack up, including finding places for the inevitable gifts. Carl picked me up in a university car, I checked out of the hotel, and we drove to campus. The dean suggested Sun and I might like to walk around a bit and took us for a tour of the near part of campus. It is quite a beautiful campus; used to be a national forest and it is still surrounded on three sides by the wooded hills of national forests. This lecture, to faculty and a few students, went much better, and I got some interesting questions from both. One student, who was from a different college and attended the student lecture, asked some really interesting questions. He and a female student took me to tea while Dr. Sun gave his lecture – in Chinese. We had an interesting conversation, although the female student didn’t contribute a lot. Later, the dean, Carl, Sun, and Min joined us for more snacks followed by a nice lunch, and they sent me off to the train with a box lunch, from which I made dinner on the way to Changshan – and my final lecture. Changsha: Hunan University Hunan University, where I gave my final lecture, is over 1000 years old, having been founded as the Academy (original buildings were destroyed by fire in the 19th century and rebuilt). Many illuminaries studied here, including Mao Tze Tung, who was born in a village not far from here – naturally his statue dominates one of the squares – and two statues of Confucius dominates the Academy. Most of my time in Changsha was spent at the university, beginning with a tour of the Academy, followed by my lecture in a coffee shop (a great venue, actually), a too-brief visit to Changsha museum, where I discovered a new and very interesting 20th century artist, Zhou Lingzhao (100 years old this year, and still working), and had a too-brief lightning tour of the exhibit of recently discovered Han Dynasty tomb relics (we didn’t realize the exhibit was going to close at 5!). The day ended with a nighttime walk up to the top of the forested hill next to campus. It is a beautiful campus, trees and gardens and many tree-lined avenues. A pleasant surprise throughout China – in spite of the huge population, there are trees and gardens everywhere. (Tea plantations double as gardens, since they are beautiful emerald green shrubs.) My lecture was well-received, and I had an interesting half hour chat with the dean of the college and Harold’s academic advisor, Professor Liu, followed, after the tour of the Academy, by a banquet lunch with several other faculty members and four graduate students. Professor Liu himself has begun to focus on cognitive metaphor theory, and several of his advisees are working on related research, so I had some of the most interesting conversations of the entire trip after the lecture and during the lunch. I encourages the students and faculty members I chatted with to consider visiting PSU, and I think it is quite likely some of them will.   Zhou Lingzhao This landscape is what first attracted my attention: I was captivated by the way it expresses both a kind of dreamy timelessness and a sense of being anchored in a specific (but mythic) time, like a cover illustration for a really good fantasy novel. In this and the other landscapes in this series, there are habitations and even distant cities and railroads – but no people. This seems to leave it to the viewer to supply the people. Throughout, I had a sense that an author could sit in front of these paintings with a typewriter or word processor and write a complete novel – or series of novels – based on the places depicted and the people implied. My favorite in the series I could not photograph is a landscape based on the artist’s home: It is a long mural, at least 25 feet long, maybe 3 feet high. It shows a series of hills and mountains with farmlands between, a railroad off to the far left, a city on the distant horizon. The horizon itself is a perfectly straight line except when hills rise up above the horizon, or mountains rise up above the top of the painting itself. One of the hills has a reservoir in the center, another has a waterfall, perfectly straight as if viewed from directly in front. We looked at it for at least 10 minutes and I still don’t think I saw all of it. The painting to the right has a similar tone. Notice how darkness intrudes from the top down into brightness and light, in contrast to the above picture in which light intrudes down into darkness. The rain-swept island to the left is also very interesting. I apologize for the reflections from the glass. Below is one final landscape, which illustrates the artist’s combination of classic Chinese landscape traditions with a very modern tone – sorry, I don’t know the art history term. He has produced a number of paintings in the pure classic style; the paintings in this series however seem unique (and to me much more interesting.) I will also mention here: This artist also produced logo-type images of Tienanman Square, and produced a famous portrait of Mao Tze Tung in a more conventional portrait style. Once I began to get a sense of the artist’s landscape style, I went back and looked at some of his pictures of people – often very idealized pictures of working people, harvesting rice, fishing for shrimp, and so on, all in a dreamy style that seems, to me, to be continuous with the style of his landscapes. I think most of these are obvious, but the picture below I find particularly mysterious: The woman at one end is playing a musical instrument; it appears the women behind her may also be playing stringed instruments, and the one with the steering oar seems to be in a pose from a dance – and there is no obvious propulsion. The title is “Fat Boat,” which could also refer to fertilizer. Shengnongjia National Park We took the fast train part way, to Yichang a four hour ride through two flat planes separated by a range of forested hills. The farmland is obviously fertile, fields pretty and well-tended, most of the houses new-looking and pleasant. We were met by the guide at the station and drove 3.5 more hours, through increasing steep-walled canyons, many tunnels (some 10 km long or longer). We stopped at a scenic area with three interesting statues, of the Farmer god, a semi-historical, semi- legend figure who was the first farmer in China and introduced many healing herbs; second figure was an early emperor; third figure a member of the royal household who was sent to “the minorities” to cement peace. We also stopped at a viewpoint where we could see the road ahead; for about a mile, through a narrow steep-walled section of the gorge, it is built over the riverbed itself, in order to prevent the need for a destabilizing cut in the riverbank / canyon wall. At about 5 pm. we arrived at the home Zhang, our guide, shares with his parents, which has four rooms upstairs for his clients, carried our bags upstairs, and started out for a before dinner walk. Zhang joined us and led us up a narrow, steep dirt trail past his family’s tea and corn fields, all on impossibly steep ground. We passed chestnut trees, Chinese dates, a wild banana tree (4 inch long grey-green fruit, greenish inside with huge seeds embedded in gelatinous fruit). At the top, we met his grandparents, who live in a traditional home with a pig-pen and some fruit trees nearby. Grandmother offered us cigarettes and, when we refused them, went in to make us each a cup of tea. Back at the inn, we sat at an outside table and were served a delicious meal, a pork and vegetable stir-fry, eggplant, a tofu dish (unfortunately overloaded with cilantro) and soup. When we finished dinner we sat inside next to a traditional Chinese round dining table with a stove in the middle and ate some roast chestnuts, then went upstairs to bed. Zhang had asked what time we wanted breakfast, suggesting 7:30 or 8. I replied with a question about the ideal time to leave for the park, when it opens… turns out it opens at 7:30, and a 6:30 breakfast would be early enough to get there by then, so that’s what we agreed on. Breakfast (each day): fried rice with some pickled ginger and chili peppers as a condiment (hot, but good stirred in with the rice in a very small amount). [Above: a statue of a liquor kettle and cups in the National Park entry parking lot.] The forecast had said cloudy, but the sky was actually clear, with only a few thin clouds until after noon. We drove up a long, long typical mountain road, a total climb of two or three thousand feet to park headquarters where, once again, the birth year shown on my passport got me in free, this time a savings of about $40. Mountain roads are always a bit scary, but Chinese drivers have a disconcerting habit of passing on nearly blind curves, relying on the horn to warn on-coming drivers, also to warn the car being passed since they also have a habit of swinging into the oncoming lane before a sharp curve. (They also tend to pull onto the highway without stopping.) Zhang is a little more cautious than most, but it still took a hefty dose of trust. When the park gate opened we were the first car through, drove the rest of a 5000 foot climb to the top of a high ridge system (it includes 5 or 6 peaks, the highest nearly 10,000 feet; the ridge where we stopped, I later realized, is right at 9,000.) From there we took a 5.5 km trail that loops about 1800 feet down into the deep canyon, passing under several rock cliffs, up over, down, up, etc., then back up to the road a little under 1 km from where we left the car. All the way it is stone stairs – no hiking boots needed, but the single trekking pole I carried did ease the burden of the steep stairs on my knees. ( If one word would describe outdoor China, it is “stairs.” Or “steep.”) This “trail” is not for acrophobics, since the slope would qualify as a cliff most of the way. The scenery, however, is spectacular, and my trusty iPhone did a good job of capturing the “Chinese painting” effect of mists separating the distant series of high ridge-lines. On the way up I forgot how high the elevation was; as I neared the top I stopped to take some photos and realized I was feeling a little faint. Then Harold reminded me that we were at 8800 feet elevation. (Then I felt foolish as well as faint.) [Below: one of the wetlands in 9 Lakes] After this climb, we drove back down to the bottom, where Zhang put us on a tour bus that led into a valley called “Nine Lakes” for a series of small lakes (ponds really) and wetlands that are closed to autos except those of the farmers who live there. When we reached a transfer station we transferred to a “train,” actually three rubber tired open vehicles with hard metal seats, decorated to look like railroad cars pulled by one decorated to look like a locomotive. The valley is very pretty, but the “lakes” a bit disappointing – to most of the Chinese tourists as well. Several of them made sarcastic jokes about the lakes most of the way. I could tell what they were joking about by the laughter; Harold confirmed it. One of the lakes near the middle did make a very attractive foreground for photographing the lush forested hills behind. Three of the lakes had fake traditional Chinese boats, including a couple of “wrecks” to provide photo opportunities. [Above: one of the Asian deer.] Zhang insisted before we leave the valley we see the deer – which, as I had begun to suspect, consisted of a herd of tame Asian deer in a pasture behind a high (unjumpable) fence; you buy a little packet of food, the attendant lets you into the pen and the well-trained deer swarm around you nosing your hands looking for a handout while another attendant takes photos, which she tries to sell you (Y20, about $3.00, each). [Below: waste receptacles] We drove from there back up to the ridgeline, to a high peak to watch the sunset, arriving at about 4, over 2 hours before sunset. Since by then the sky had totally clouded over, neither Harold nor I could see any point hanging out up there; after he and I climbed to the water tower platform at the top, took a stone path loop of about 1 km, we left. On the way, I had learned that I was in for another disappointment: I had understood there would be an opportunity to see golden monkeys in their natural habitat, but the “natural habitat” part was an error of assumptions. They do have some wild golden monkeys in an area restricted by tourists, open only to qualified wildlife biologists by prior arrangement. What tourists see are a small troop of monkeys in a large, but desolate-looking wire cage, like the cages the Portland zoo used to use. I later learned that most of the monkeys hang out in the inaccessible parts of the forest, only occasionally descending where they might actually be seen. [Above – bridge made of concrete “logs” and “vines”] We also stopped by a stone paved path leading to a lovely waterfall, where I took some pictures of the bridges as well as the waterfall. I haven’t mentioned before the fake natural park “furniture” everywhere – the bridges were concrete, shaped to look like they were constructed of small logs. I also took a picture of a couple of waste receptacles shaped to look like stumps (previous page). At the ridgetop where we first hiked there is a huge “fallen log,” complete with fake tree rings and even fake fungus, housing the restrooms, and the park entrance itself is arched over with a fake fallen tree arch. They’re all well-done and look real if you don’t look too close. We stopped on the way back to the B&B and I bought a melon for dinner and breakfast; it made a very nice dessert, and a nice addition to the fried rice for breakfast. [The statue on the highway above “Longevity village”] First thing we did after breakfast was to drive up to the ridge again, stopping along the way at a viewpoint celebrating a “longevity village,” where a disproportionate share of the residents are over 95 years old. At the viewpoint is a statue of an elderly couple with a “log” arch, made of concrete, behind them: These detailed fake logs are found in several places in the park. [A bridge leading to Golden Swallow Cave] We drove on up to a parking lot at “Golden Swallow Pass,” where there is a rainbow-shaped bridge across the highway. After a series of stairs the path led into a cave, where in the dim light of the guide’s flashlight we saw what I at first thought were bats flitting about, but they were swallows; we also saw swallow nests in the cave. When we came out of the cave, we crossed the arc bridge; the guide went back to the car while Harold and I took a long detour that curved around and down under the cliff and back up to the level of the highway. The next stop led Harold and me up a series of stairs and through another cave (not so dark this time), and eventually into a valley that had several statues of rhinoceroses – and an opening into a cave where ancient rhinoceros bones were found in 1996 – a total of 8 rhinos plus bones of some other animals and artifacts of Neolithic people, along with petroglyphs. They had recreated the scene as it looked during the excavation of the cave, with models of the bones in the positions in which they were found. The only two unfortunate things: They had installed led lights that changed colors all the time, casting ugly blue, green, and pink tones on the display – and some idiot had “improved” the faded petroglyphs by painting over some of the faded lines. Otherwise it was a spectacular morning – and surprise! no tour groups; we were the only two people there. We ate our lunch in that pleasant valley, listening to the song of several species of birds and looking at the rhino sculptures, then descended by a different stairs. [Below: The Farmer God] After lunch we stopped at a valley that houses several natural history museums and a cultural museum. I found the display of traditional tools in the cultural museum the most interesting; it included a single bottom plow designed to be pulled by an ox (still used in parts of Asia where the hillsides are terraced into fields too narrow for a tractor; Harold remembered seeing the ox plows used when he was a child. The biological museum would have been more interesting to me if the explanations as well as the labels had been in English (same problem I had with the Museum of Natural History in Beijing). We were unable to reach the museum of the giant salamander: the trail was closed because of rockfall hazard – and, on the other side of the river, the road was also closed, blocked by a slide that included at least one boulder the size of a large automobile. (On many of the trails we ’ve seen “watch for falling rock” signs; the sight of that boulder sent shivers down my spine, plus memories of the recent rockfall in the Columbia Gorge.) Our final stop was a temple to the Farmer God. An amusing irony here; the statue can only be seen from the far side of the valley; after you’ve climbed the long flight of steep stairs, you confront a dense growth of evergreen shrugs that blocks all but the top, and tourists are prohibited from going any further. The Farmer God is still worshipped, considered to be one of the two ancestors of all Chinese and a source of good luck – it is purely a traditional religion with no connection to Confucianism or Buddhism. From there, we stopped again to buy some more Chinese dates for lunch on the final day here, as well as a melon to enjoy with dinner and breakfast. On the final day we had only one thing on the agenda, so we packed up our bags before setting out, the Zhang drove to a lower-lying area not far from his house, where a series of steps led up to a spectacular series of waterfalls, the highest spilling through a cave. Beyond this, the path led on up to a viewing pavilion with a roof thatched with grass [right] then to an interesting stone “station” [next page]. After passing a gate marked with the symbolic bull’s horns symbolic of the Farmer God [below] the stone path led back around through an area belonging to an ethnic minority, the Ba people. Harold wasn’t sure, but it appears the bull’s horns have some special significance in the Ba culture. Beyond this gate, the stone path led through a series of shops, some quite interesting. I bought a small bracelet from a sales lady wearing a traditional costume in one of these, and took her photograph. On the outside of that shop hung a traditional “raincoat” and hat. Another shop had a huge display of medicinal fungi, including this giant mushroom that appears to belong to the boletus family, since it ha cellular rather than finned pores. Finally we came to a shop where a local artist had a studio, producing ink brush paintings of local scenes; I bought a small painting here to take home. Unfortunately he was not present when we visited. It had clouded over by the time we set out back to Yichang and the train back to Wuhan, but I greatly enjoyed the scenery, mostly the same steep limestone cliffs until we were nearly to Yichang, a few foothills, then flat plains the rest of the way to Wuhan. Overall impressions: here and in the northern mountains I visited, tea fields and orchards (and a few fields with other crops) are laid out on slopes that would qualify as double black diamond at a US ski resort; the slopes appear to be at least 40%; some are terraced, but not all of them There are orange groves in the lower elevations as well as the tea fields. Everything is neat and clean; the only evidence of litter is the occasional Kleenex or empty water bottle dropped beside the trail. Harold tells me the government has just begun promoting recycling, so this is likely to improve with time. On the plain, fields look very fertile, and the villages look prosperous, with new, well-tended houses. In the mountains, the villages near the park resemble tourist resort villages anywhere, with mixtures of restaurants, small grocers, and tourist shops lining the streets. Many of the hotels have as many as 10 or 12 stories, the signs are of course in Chinese, and the fishtail architecture is fairly frequent, though not as frequent as farther north. Harold also tells me that it is difficult to book a room for a foreigner outside the larger cities; I can easily understand, given the population, that they might feel they have plenty of business with indigenous Chinese. When we arrived back in Wuhan, the smog was thick, temperature 32 (90 F) – a stark contrast to our recent mountain air. The cab driver took us the long way to the hotel, since it is only 2.5 km from the train station, but Harold accepted it, since 2.5 km is much to far to lug my heavy duffel bags. As usual, when I saw the price of the room – Y512 per night – I gasped, then divided by the exchange rate and realized what a bargain it is (carpeted, luxurious bathroom, comfortable chair, and a glorious view of the city, if the smog would only clear). The only remaining chores: repack my duffel bags, since I just stuffed everything in after the morning’s walk, and go to Harold’s home and to dinner. Last day – Sept. 26 I’ve been fighting what appears to be a mild case of bronchitis for about five days; I woke up in the middle of the night with a sore throat, which really scared me – propped myself up on a stack of pillows, managed to get back to sleep. So, the first order of business was to get Harold to help me find and purchase a decongestant – none of my familiar brands were there; I ended up buying some cold medicine pills and some other pills to help with the throat irritation; they seem to work, so return home is not as iffy as I had feared. That task accomplished, Harold drove me to East Lake Park. East Lake is a huge lake near the center of one of the three parts of Wuhan; it in turn is divided into several smaller lakes by viaducts you can walk or bicycle across. Some of the lakes are 10-12 miles around, more than I wanted to hike with impaired breathing – especially since a dense smog had settled in during the night, particulate matter I didn’t want to suck into my lungs, and visibility ranging from a half mile to maybe a mile and a half. So we began by walking around one of the smaller sub-lakes, and unexpectedly encountered a really nice sculpture garden, where I took several pictures. I especially liked a sculpture of two dogs (or wolves) sniffing each other, and a sculpture of bubbles; very playful. At the far end of the lake we also passed by a large amusement park on the other side of a freeway. Back near where we started, we walked in the other direction, through the part of the lakeside park Harold likes best. We passed a “fairy garden,” consisting of small-scale (about ¼ scale) replicas of a wooden three-masted ship, a Dutch windmill, and some other European architecture from pre-industrial times. We passed idle row-boats, offering rides on the lake for half price – but evidently other park visitors made the same calculations we did; why spend money rowing out onto the lake when the shores are half-obscured by smog? This entire section of the park is quite pretty and a great place for walking or bicycling. We had lunch just outside the park and proceeded to the second destination, the Yellow Crane Tower, a large famous pagoda that sits inside a large park, with several pavilions, a performance center, a stone museum, and other attractions. We walked the length of the park, to the Tower at the far end. The tower is named for the statue of two cranes, in brass to judge by the way it has weathered, really a marvelous statue. Again, with the smog I wasn’t inclined to climb the tower, so we headed back toward the entrance. Just as we were turning back we heard an announcement of a performance of 2500 year old music and dance on ancient instruments, so we poked around in the stone museum, a collection of very interesting stones, some with a history (part of a demolished temple or fortress), others with interesting shapes or patterns. Unfortunately, they were displayed against a drab dirty wall in bad need of a paint job, so I decided not to take any photos. The final attraction: the performance. We arrived a minute or two late; when we entered and found our seats a group of women in traditional dress was dancing to a traditional folk song. Then they brought out the classic instruments, including two stringed instruments, an xylophone-like instrument, some flutes, and two collections of bells, some large enough that a separate musician used a long wooden pole to sound them. Several songs were played on these instruments, there were more folk dances, and one of the women sang a beautiful traditional song. Unfortunately, the contrast between stage and audience lighting was too much for my iPhone camera; none of my photos came out. It was a marvelous way to end my stay in China. I spent the rest of the day resting, sorting, and repacking for the flight home. But I had one more food adventure: Since I would be eating alone, I decided to eat in the hotel restaurant. I made the mistake of asking the server’s advice, and ended up with two dishes. One was pork spare ribs accompanied by what looked like boiled quail eggs (okay, but an odd accompaniment). Positive aspect: Three leftover ribs will make a good lunch for tomorrow, since the flight leaves just after noon and will not include meal service. The other looked like and was described as a vegetable medley bowl. It was ringed with 1 inch chunks of corn on the cob, filled with boiled or steamed peanuts, topped with something the size of a grape, but withered, which I could not identify and by four spears each of yam and a round, half inch diameter white root vegetable I couldn’t identify. Boiled peanuts are no better than they sound – edible but not nearly as good as roasted peanuts, and the corn was over-ripe to the point of almost ready to become seed corn. The two root vegetables were good. Both the ribs and the vegetable dish were quite bland – and the server brought me a knife and fork without my asking. I think both the bland food and the flatware reflect stereotypes about Americans. The experience overall China is a beautiful country – more beautiful than I had expected. I knew it would be rapidly modernizing (there is construction everywhere; my various Chinese friends joke that China is a poor country with a rich government). The infrastructure is not just the high-speed trains; the highway system is also in excellent shape, with new roads and freeways completed or under construction everywhere. The parts of China I saw are very clean; roadsides, streets, and sidewalks well-swept, not much litter (a few Kleenexes and empty water bottles along the trails, but I didn’t see anything like that along the roadsides). Restrooms are immaculate. There are shrines and pavilions everywhere, most in the traditional architecture with “fishtail” rooflines. People I encountered everywhere are friendly and polite (aside from the habit of trying to crash lines, and the aggressive driving habits). I was impressed with the academic people I met, teachers and students alike. English speaking is still largely limited to college educated people, but I was able to communicate with gestures when I didn’t have an English speaking friend. Fortunately, English translations are usually available where they are really needed, such as the station announcements on the high speed trains. After four days cultural acclimatization with Harold in Wuhan, I felt quite comfortable travelling alone to Beijing and back, and sightseeing alone in Beijing (although, when I had trouble with my cell-phone halfway through the trip, it gave me a few moments of panic). However, I was glad to have a hotel in Beijing with an English-speaking staff, and glad I arranged for guides to all the national parks. The large population is evident almost everywhere – even during the week tourist attractions are (by Oregon standards) crowded, usually with several tour groups, and clusters of high-rise apartments crop up in unexpected places, but it only occasionally feels oppressive. Public places, including the central gathering areas of tourist attractions, seem noisy, but I also experienced many moments of peace and silence in the national parks – and even in some of the temple grounds in the center of Beijing. The last-minute planning wasn’t as much a problem as I feared; I was able to visit several beautiful and interesting parts of eastern China, and the university visits were all quite successful. It was a great adventure. As I commented in the Shennongjia chapter, there are stairs everywhere; even in national parks and nominally wilderness areas there are concrete or stone, occasionally wood or metal, walkways and stairways; I carried hiking boots all over China for 3 days hiking on the Great Wall. There is also security everywhere, sometimes two separate baggage scanners in sequence. The agricultural lands I saw were mostly lush and green, some of them on very steep hillsides; except in the north central area the farm villages seem prosperous, with new or newish, well-kept houses. As in India, I noticed a lot of use of machines (such as modest-sized combines, suited to the small size of most fields), but alongside them is manual labor (for example planting shrubs and flowers along freeway margins) and traditional tools and methods. Brooms made of bundled bamboo stalks are very popular for sweeping outside areas; farmers still spread the rice crop out on pavement to finish drying in the sun: Harold says it is harvested before it has completely dried and hardened in the head because farmers are eager to get the field cleared and replanted. The smog is one reason I have not been enthusiastic about visiting China, and it was a factor about half the time, including the entire time in Beijing. Earlier I wrote that the one-word summing up would be “stairs,” but it is more accurate to say stairs, smog, and crowds. Oddly, I did find solitude and quiet at surprising times – in temple grounds, a couple of times in the national parks I visited. The food is marvelous; would be even more so for anyone who doesn’t share my gluten problem. Even having to avoid dark sauces and other wheat-based foods, I enjoyed a wide range of delicious dishes, most of which I may never have again. While I was there, preparations for National Day, the 70th anniversary of the founding of the Communist regime, were underway everywhere; much of the construction I observed was related to that. Red Chinese flags began to crop up everywhere. I might add that most of the Chinese I chatted with avoided politics, as did I, but the few who mentioned politics uniformly expressed a feeling that Trump’s tariff war is unfair to China, and hurts Chinese people more than it hurts the government. Harold tells me there is still some hostility toward the U.S. dating back to the Cold War, but most of the Chinese I met are friendly and interested in Americans. If I go back, I want to make sure to allow time for visiting areas farther west, even as far as Tibet; I have been told that crowds are much thinner, the scenery spectacular, and the chance of observing wild animals much higher. A few months after I returned LaJean and I moved into Willamette View, a Continuing Care Retirement Community - and the COVID epidemic swept through the world. I got a very odd feeling from the realization that I was in Wuhan only a couple of months before it began there. Slightly different timing and I would have had a very different experience.

Kayaking Tetons July 2019

Back in spring Scott Emery and I decided to do an REI kayak trip (with a little hiking) on Jackson Lake, foot of Mt. Moran and Mt. Bivouac. We flew via Salt Lake City, arrived in Jackson Hole Friday afternoon, July 26, walked around town for a while, had dinner and went to bed early. We met the other 11 people in the group and two of the three guides Saturday morning, put our luggage into the (huge) dry bags they provided, signed the release forms, and loaded onto the bus, which took us, by way of the Teton National Park visitor center, to the boat landing, where we had a safety talk and loaded into the kayaks. Kayak experience varied among the 12 members of the group; two had never been in one before, and at least 3 others had as much experience as Scott. Consequently, the 7 ½ mile trip across the lake to Grassy Island, our home for the next two nights, took 4 hours (plus a 45 minute stop on Elk Island, about halfway, for lunch. The lake was calm for most of the trip – a little wind for about an hour but not too much chop. The mountains in front of us were spectacular – and remained a focus for 4 days. Left-right: Michael & Marissa, Scott, Kate & Dorothy, Roy, Michael, me, Sarah and Sally Jo, Myles with the V sign; kneeling, Joe & Colin, lying down, Kelby and Molly. We reached camp about 4:30, were given a tour, including pointing out the flat level spaces for tents and the sheltered spot where “groovy,” the field toilet, was set up, with a lovely view of Mt. Moran across the lake. Scott and I selected a spot at the periphery of the main group, set up our tent, returned to the kitchen / group area for snacks at 5 (corn chips and a raw onion / tomato dip I avoided), followed by dinner (chili with elk sausage and a nice salad, followed by watermelon for dessert). Everyone was tenuously getting to know each other, a process that continued for the full four days. Our fellow campers included Sarah and Sally Jo (both traveling alone), Kate and Dorothy (Dorothy is an artist who does work inspired by native American petroglyphs), father and son pairs Roy and Michael, Joe and Colin, and a married couople, Michael (retired nuclear engineer) and Marisa (still employed project manager) – both avid bow hunters (elk) and general outdoors types. Guides Molly, Myles, and tour leader Kelby. Before dinner Scott and I took some spectacular photos of the clouds building up over Mt. Moran and Mt. Bivouac (right), to the west (the direction from which weather usually comes). After dinner I was brushing my teeth out behind our tent when I felt the first drops of rain. I finished, went back to the kitchen area to put my toothpaste back in the “bear football” for safe-keeping. By that time, the few drops had turned into a driving rain storm, yellow light (like pre-tornado in the Midwest), at least 30 mile an hour wind (fortunately mostly absorbed by the trees before it reached the tent area). I scurried back to my tent, already half soaked. Scott and I lay there on our sleeping pads for a while as it slowly grew dark, realized it wasn’t going to quit soon so crawled into our sleeping bags and went to sleep. I awoke the next morning in time for a spectacular sunrise photo from the beach east of our tent. Scott got up just in time to see the last of this view, and joined me on the west-facing beach next to the kitchen area, where we took several photos of the sunrise colors on the mountains, including this photo of Mt. Moran, reflected in the lake: A very promising sight. Coffee was (finally!) ready at 7:30, with some melon slices, granola, and yogurt to hold us until breakfast was ready at 8: a blend of fried potatoes and bacon with fried eggs on top. After breakfast and clean-up, we assembled at the kayaks for a trip to the end of Bearpaw Bay, for a hike to Bearpaw and Trapper Lakes, a total hike of about 5 miles, with a few hundred feet of elevation gain. On the way we paddled through a small bay, protected by a small island just south of Grassy Island. We played on the glassy surface of this little bay for an hour or so before paddling on to the trailhead, while Molly took pictures of us paddling around. Scott and me in front of Mt. Moran The hike up to Bearpaw and Trapper lake was relatively easy – unmaintained trail half of the way, but with a group of 15 hikers every week, it is a pretty decent trail. We had lunch at Bearpaw Lake, then hiked on up to Trapper Lake, which features an active beaver dam just above the lake. On the way back, as we approached the end of the sheltered little bay, a wind came up and rather quickly whipped up some 12-14 inch waves, which unfortunately paralleled the route back to Grassy Island. These are the most dangerous waves, especially for inexperienced paddlers, but everyone, including the two novice paddlers, handled them well, although I took a couple of bucket-sized waves in my lap, totally drenching my hiking pants. Fortunately they are nylon and dry quickly. Scott and I went all-out as soon as we emerged from the bay, since powered motion is the best way to deal with these waves. Everyone agreed (after it was over) that the crossing was fun, in spite of getting wet. We had another great dinner that night and stayed up talking and enjoying the changing moods of the mountains until almost dark – this time not chased off to bed by a storm, although there were some ominous-looking clouds gathering over the mountain, along with some interesting rumbles of thunder, amplified by the canyons. I haven’t mentioned the irony that “Grassy Island,” named after a fire when it truly was grassy, is densely forested with virtually no grass. The following morning furnished some spectacular sunrise photos. I was quite taken with the pattern of colors on the dimpled ripples (above). This pattern weakened but was replaced by a lovely combination of colored clouds, reflected in the rippling water (next page). Since we were scheduled to spend only two nights on Grassy Island, today was a moving day. We packed up our tents and gear right after breakfast, and loaded them onto the big cumbersome blue pontoon boat for the trip to the next camp site. Everyone pitches in to help load and unload the boat – otherwise we don’t do much. The guides have dinner preparation and cleanup organized in a way that we would probably be more in the way than helpful. The changing moods of the two mountains across the bay were endlessly entertaining; everyone took several pictures of each. Here and are pictures in the morning light of Mt. Moran (right) and Mt. Bivouac (next page). After loading up, we climbed into the kayaks for a paddle across Moran Bay to the foot of the saddle that connects Mt. Moran with Mt. Bivouac. There we hiked up a steep trail to a lovely viewpoint with a view of the lake – unfortunately I did not carry my iPhone so don’t have a picture. On the way down, the guides played a trick, planting a bit of soggy Cliff Bar and telling everyone it is an example of bear poop. I was pretty sure it was a gag even before one of them picked up a piece of it and ate it, because it was pale yellowish tan, no berries in it, not at all the right shape, but I kept silence. After each guide took a bite of it, a couple of the other guests took the dare – much to the disgust of the others. I didn’t know it was a Cliff Bar (which has wheat in it) but I was sure it wasn’t a Kind bar, so I refrained. Again, sorry, no camera, so no pictures. On both of these hikes I had some great conversations with Myles, who has taken a couple of Cognitive Science courses and is quite interested in it. He didn’t think he is smart enough to actually major in any of the related fields but Scott and I managed to convince him that anyone who understands it well enough to be interested in it probably has the ability to actually do it. We climbed back into the kayaks for a 6 mile paddle to our next camp site. As we passed Grassy Island, clouds were seriously gathering. We felt a few rain drops on and off – fortunately the wind didn’t come up again. We stopped about halfway for a welcome break; I thought about putting on my rain pants, but unfortunately did not do it. We hadn’t paddled 20 minutes from the rest stop before it started raining, not very hard but constantly. As we reached the stretch of open water (Spaulding Bay), the wind came up – fortunately not too strong, and we were paddling slantwise across the waves, so it wasn’t at all difficult, but by now I was getting quite wet. By the time we reached our camp site, I was actually cold; had to put on both fleece and jacket in order to avoid hypothermia. Grand Teton on left, Mt. Moran on the right. The new camp afforded a lovely panoramic view ranging from Grand Teton to Mt. Bivouac. The clouds kept changing in ways that invited repeated photos; one of the moods is shown at the bottom of the previous page. Below: Grand Teton, morning light Scott and I hustled to put up our tent, but the floor still got wet before we could get the rain fly on. Ironically, the rain stopped just after we got the tent up; the sun came up and I went down to the rocky beach to warm up (and dry out) in the sunlight, while basking in the view as well as the sun, and photographing the changing moods of the mountain. I warmed up enough to take off most of my layers pretty quickly, but it took over an hour for my pants to dry. I had brought four cans of pinot noir, so I shared one with Scott before and during dinner. They grilled excellent pork steaks and served them with rice and salad – fortunately Kelby realized just as he was serving me that he hadn’t checked the ingredients on the flavor packet for the rice. He checked, it did include wheat, so he gave me extra salad (and, later, 1/3 of an extra pork steak). It was his only slipup – and he caught it before damage was done. (That small a trace might not have been a problem – but again, it might have.) That night it started thunder and lightning about the time we were going to sleep, then a real storm came in around midnight, complete with hail drumming on our tent, and another light rain around 2 or 3 am. I was seriously wondering if we would do the final float trip down the Snake River or not – but by the time we got up for the sunrise, the sky had cleared; the entire day was quite beautiful. After breakfast we packed up again, and paddled the short way to South Landing and the end of our paddling. We then took a bus to a put-in spot for a leisurely float down a placid stretch of the Snake River, with spectacular views of the entire Teton Range – and a couple of great sightings of bald eagles. Binoculars were useful; this was the only time I wished I had brought my Canon with its telephoto lens. On the bus ride, Scott and I also spotted a couple of huge sandhill cranes riding the thermals up over a ridge – the only time I have ever seen them. The float down the river was nice; a chance to talk more with Molly, who I really enjoy, and with some of the other guests. The placid calm was a bit of a come-down from all the paddling, but it was a nice, mellow float. At the takeout, everyone was quite sad about the end of the trip. Kelby was kind enough to drop Scott and me, along with Michael and Marisa, off at the airport on the way back to Jackson Hole, saving us the difficulty of the scramble to get something to eat and find an Uber or a cab back to the airport. I washed up and changed into clean and dry clothes in a Men’s Room, and Scott and I found a place to hang out with a good view of the mountains. I thought I’d begin reading a book I brought along, but after one chapter realized I was too wasted to focus on it. All in all it was a great trip, great companionship. I’m really glad I went.

2019 trip": Overall impressions: of South Luangwa National Park, Zambia

The park is lovely, full of a variety of animals. The forest areas are thicker than in Botswana, so following an active animal pursuit requires strategy to guess where it might emerge from the woods. The mixture of animals is somewhat different. The bush camps are mostly very good. I would not come here to stay at Mfuwe Lodge – too big, too many people and vehicles. Driving around the last evening I was there, we were hardly ever out of sight of at least one other vehicle; often in view of 3 or 4. Each camp has its own personality; I liked the first, Chindeni quite a bit, and the second, Bilimungwe, even better. Chindeni overlooks a lagoon with some crocodiles, a lot of hippos, who moan, laugh, and chatter most of the night; Bilimungwe is situated next to a waterhole, that often has its resident hippo; all sorts of animals approach the opposite side to drink – antelope, elephants, the occasional predator. About half of the walking safaris brought me very close to animals including zebras, elephants, giraffes, and baboons – a very nice compliment to the game drive experience. I found the British 5 meal schedule annoying – if they hadn’t insisted on ending the morning game drive at 10:30, in time for a very early 11:00 “brunch” I wouldn’t have minded. I liked the typical Okavanga Delta schedule – ending the game drive around 12:30 – much better (it also started earlier, about 5:30 instead of 7). The short game viewing day and loooong midday break is really the only thing about the bush camp company I didn’t like. On the last day I got a strong refresher course on why the extra money I paid for a private guide was worth it. The area was jammed with vehicles, many with 9 guests (3 abreast – pity the person in the center!). One guide with three African-Americans and one white guest parleyed with Shad for a while, and it was clear Shad had been giving him instructions – he later laughed and told me the guy was a new guide and knew nothing about the park. A hundred meters down the road we saw the snoozing leopard, in plain sight, the guide had failed to see and point out to his guests. I don’t know the back story but I felt very sorry for them. I’m sure they saw animals – hard not to in this park – but I’m also sure they saw nowhere near as many as I. Vegetation Many of the trees and shrubs are edible and nutritious to several species, who engage in what Shad called “layered browsing,” each eating what it can comfortably reach – giraffes and elephants at the top, kudu, smaller antelopes, etc. Shad pointed out several bushes and trees whose leaves retain nutrient value even after turning brown and drying up. Several species of trees have fruits eaten by many different animals (in Uganda and Rwanda, the great apes climb to get them, just as baboons do in Zambia). Several species particularly in Zambia have bean-like seed pods (including the acacia); most of these are edible, even when totally dried up, and many of these species are nitrogen-fixing; they look like legumes but I’m not sure whether they are. A number of the tree species rely on browsing animals to eat them and pass the seed out somewhere else – conveniently wrapped in fertilizer. Droppings I was disappointed not to find a T-shirt featuring animal pawprints; it would also be interesting if someone would make one featuring the unique shapes of droppings, each of which, as Shad explained, tells a story about the animal’s diet and general habits. Very interesting is the tendency of several species including impalas to poop in one spot. Shad explained that this provides information to the dominant male about the females, both identifying them and identifying when they are fertile. Open meadows may contain several of these concentrations of pellets, often representing several species. Grooming Observing primate grooming was one of the motivations for my visit, and I obtained several videos of grooming and related behavior. Grooming is fundamentally important to social species, especially species that live in large complex social organizations (most primates); British ethologist Robin Dunbar believes one of the motivating factors for the evolution of language was the need to extend grooming. At base, grooming consists of removing parasites such as ticks and fleas, as well as burred weed seeds and other annoyances, from the groomed animal. Being groomed releases opiods that produce an almost euphoric state; in turn, this strengthens social bonds. In most primate species grooming provides a means for developing and strengthening friendships or coalitions – others who “has your back.” A fight over social status often ends with the victor grooming the defeated, thereby patching the frayed social fabric. Baboons and chimpanzees have been observed to spend most of the time that they are not sleeping or eating either grooming or being groomed. Humans. My visit this time reinforced impressions I built during my first trip three years ago. Every species I saw seems to be almost a different species in the wild. I think this has several reasons, but two in particular stand out. Humans have been an integral part of ecology from the outset, but until recently we were mainly just another species, sometimes preying on certain animals (in competition with other predators), sometimes altering their environments through our own activities, and quite rarely domesticating certain species. Inevitably the domesticating process involves inducing changes in the animal’s genetic and social characteristics, changing its characteristic behavior as well as its physiology. Even in the wild, it is likely that human interactions with the animals they don’t domesticate has a strongly social element in it, and this is richly represented in the folklore and mythology of many native cultures. Industrial development and large scale farming have both had a huge impact on many species, but recent developments have a subtler and deeper effect. This is immediately apparent in the contrast between zoo animals and wild animals which I’ve noted before. Zoo animals do not need to, in fact are not allowed to forage or prey on their natural prey. They do not roam and rarely actually run. They cannot help forming complex social relations with their keepers, relationships of both dependency for the necessities of life and of dominance and control. Their relationships with conspecifics is radically distorted by the lack of food or predator pressure, regular medical care, and above all the confinement to a very small range and daily exposure to thousands of humans. This kind of social interaction and socialization is present (at a much lower level) in game preserves and other national parks as well, and minimizing it is one reason why the park wardens in Zambia will not interfere with the weak and probably dying lioness, even to save her pathetic little cub. They do interfere to minimize the risk of contagion, but that is justified by the fact that our presence is what increases that risk in the first place. But the effect of injuries on predators (and on males competing for control over females) is part of the evolutionary process, the cruel but highly effective process that weeds out defective genes and propagates genes related to strength and good health. Eco-tourism, important as it is, also has an inevitable effect. Animals become habituated, either deliberately (as with the great apes) or inadvertently (as a result of dozens of tourist-laden vehicles driving around every day. This habituation almost has to be thought of as social in a profound sense. Even ignoring humans as irrelevant factors in the ecology is a social response of sorts. So… I’ve not seen many of these animals actually “in the wild”; the comparison between animals in their (more or less) natural habitat and animals in the zoo is stark and telling, but the comparison to animals in a truly natural habitat (where humans are no more and no less than one other species going about its business alongside the animals) is equally important. I’ve had the good luck to observe some species in the wildernesses of Idaho, Washington, and Oregon (even these animals are somewhat habituated to us by the hundreds of back-packers that roam their territories), but it would be quite difficult to observe truly wild lions or elephants (or moose or cougars).

Sunday, June 14 2019 Chimpanzee habituation, drive into Rwanda

This is written as I sit on the deck of my cabin watching several black & white colobus monkeys in the tree across from me. Up at 4:30, breakfast at 5, left with Male, my driver, at 5:40. (Horrible road most of the way.) Reached the national park about 6:30, signed in, met the guide and one other tourist, Chrsty (we later met 3 or 4 of the “Chimpanzee Trek”) groups. Set out hiking in the dawn light, lovely bird song, no sign of chimps for a couple of hours. Then while we were taking arrest and listen break I walked up the road a ways to pee, and heard noises from a tree a ways farther on. Called to the guide, who confirmed it; we walked on up, circled the tree, finally spotted 3 adults and a juvenile way up near the top. (I’m so proud of myself – usually I’m the last to see or hear an animal.) We watched for a half hour, took several photos (which I’m sure I will delete now). I thought, “well if all we see is chimps high in the trees, that will be a pretty successful day.” Then they started down to the ground. They lay down near us to rest; we watched them for a total of close to 2 hours, then the guide suggested we look for other groups so we set off. We ended up seeing several groups, I was able to record two segments of chimp cries, we watched one other group for close to an hour, about 10 meters distance. Probably walked 8 or 9 miles during the day. We encountered 4 or 5 groups of the other type, the “Chimp Trek,” which starts later, does less walking (the drive to where the animals were last spotted) and all have at least 6 people; one had 8. Chrysty remarked to me that she was really glad we were on this group and I heartily agreed. Same effect as seeing the animals in Botswana: I don’t know if I can watch chimps in a zoo again. When they are in their natural habitat, free to do anything, go anywhere, they are vastly more interesting. Our job was supposedly to help the animals get used to humans so they are less likely either to flee or fight – but most of the ones we encountered were pretty tame. Only a handful kept moving away from us when we would try to get an interesting picture (but even they didn’t exactly run away. Amble away is more like it.) I had traditional local cooking last night – mashed up boiled green banana, a kind of pasty concoction of , a peanut sauce that made the other dishes a bit less bland, and goat stew (tasty but very chewy). I can see why cuisine from this region has never made the big time. Right now I’m eating a jack fruit Male got for me at a roadside stand yesterday – it is also on the bland side (a squirt of lemon juice would work wonders for it. It is subtle, very slightly citrusy; one could learn to like it I think. June 18 first gorilla trek Background: Bwindi Impenetrable Forest National Park was established about 30 years ago. It was plagued by poaching for some time but that seems to have been brought under control. It is now home to over 400 mountain gorillas, in families of 8-16 usually (but one is smaller for reasons I will explain.) The terrain is very steep and densely forested; the occasional clearing is dense with shrubbery and cane 4-6 feet high, including nettles and at least a couple of thorn-bearing shrubs (why they recommend leather gloves). The park also host forest elephants, who tromp wide “trails” through the forest and clearings – the reason for armed guards (to frighten, not kill). Gorillas are vegetarian with the exception of occasional termites; they eat leaves, branches, and fruits, sometimes climbing clear to the top of fig trees for the ripening figs. When I was there the forest was lush with nettles and a kind of cane the animals love; they spent most of the time we were watching them stuffing food into their mouths as fast as possible, then napping or (the juveniles) playing. They are rarely aggressive toward humans or indeed to anything other than other gorillas: The males fight over status and over control over groups of females. Once a male becomes the dominant member of the group, its fur turns grey, which is why they are called silverbacks. They are usually considerably larger than the females. The second status male in a group is called a “blackback.” Gorillas are susceptible to human diseases: We were cautioned not to cough or sneeze in their direction, to urinate on the ground not on vegetation, and if we needed to defecate to allow the guide to dig a deep hole first. A tourist with even a serious cold would not be allowed to go on a trek at all. Other warnings: We were not to eat, drink, or smoke in the presence of the animals. Generally we were to maintain about 7 meters distance although, in practice, when the gorillas were completely engrossed in eating or napping we were allows as close as 3 meters. If a gorilla approached we were to back slowly away but definitely not run; if very close, we were simply to freeze and stand perfectly still. On my second trek one passed very close to me, ignoring me as if I were a stump or rock. It was both bizarre and thrilling. A permit to spend an hour with these marvelous beasts is quite expensive - $600 in Uganda, $1000 in Rwanda. 20% of this goes to the local community; this, plus the fees and tips for guides, porters, and other park staff helps maintain community support for the park and for preserving the animals. The rest goes to park maintenance and to general infrastructure. In my view the park was in quite good shape. We met at the park headquarters, where we watched some traditional dances from various tribes in Uganda, then Gad, one of the guides, talked to us about the history of the park and about the dos and don’ts of gorilla watching (mainly, don’t get too close, don’t come at all if you’re sick, don’t eat in front of them). I was assigned to his group, along with seven other pretty fit people (because this group was going to visit a gorilla family last spotted high up the mountain, probably requiring several hours of hiking). I was worried about the 8 person group size (but as it turned out it really wasn’t a problem.) Tourist groups are allowed just one hour with the gorilla family, in order to minimize stress on the animals. Gad talked us all into hiring porters, because it provides employment – hence support in the community for preservation. I didn’t really need one; my pack isn’t heavy, and when I’m carrying it I scarcely notice it. However, I was glad I hired him, because I was able to hand my trekking poles to him and not worry about them while I took pictures. So we drove for 40 minutes over the pretty ugly roads (think secondary forest service roads) up the mountain, climbing the side of a beautiful valley. Uganda is generally very beautiful – very green, lots of tea plantations as well as banana and other fruit. As we neared the turnoff, the trackers stopped Gad’s vehicle and talked a few minutes; we ended up going to a different trail than planned, because during the night the family assigned us had started moving down the mountain. We got out, milled around a bit, met our porters and handed them our packs, and started single file into the woods. In addition to the guide, 8 tourists and 7 porters there were two guards armed with rifles – the park has a large population of forest elephants, which are often aggressive; the guards carry rifles to fire into the air to frighten dangerous animals off. “Fit group” indeed: we encountered the first two members of the family less than 20 minutes out; I doubt we hiked even 2 miles total. The viewing itself is… almost literally breath-taking. We watched the first two grazing on leaves and stems for a while, then went farther down the hill toward where two females, the silverback, and two immature males were – along with two 2 year olds, equivalent to a human 4 or 5 year old. The location was far from ideal – a mixture of several bushes and very small trees, some black-berry like vines, etc. But some of the bushes are what the animals love to eat, so that’s where you’ll often find them. The guide and the two guards whacked and stomped paths in the direction of the gorillas, and as they grazed their way through the shrubbery they wallowed down paths. We were allowed to approach much closer to the animals than I thought: At times I was within 6 or 8 feet of one or two. They seemed to totally ignore us. At first they each picked a bush, sat down in front of it and ripped off leaves and canes, stuffing them in as fast as they could. That was interesting enough, but then one lay down on his back and started “eating in bed.” The babies ate for a while then started playing. One climbed a tree, ate for a while at the top, then began a slow fall to the ground: I was lucky and caught most of that on video. Unfortunately the file seems to be too big to e-mail, since it’s been rejected twice. Maybe when I’m back in the U.S. I also got a video of the two babies fighting, rolling back and forth on the ground like a couple of human first graders. The experience was all I hoped it would be, and the hour went much too quickly – the guide almost had to send the guards to round us up when it was time to go. Part of the reason is that the kids started getting very playful just as the hour was ending. As with the chimps the other day, this experience has probably on both nature shows and movies and seeing primates in a zoo. Nature shows and movies tend to pick up on idealized and exaggerated activities and behaviors, and the behavior I observed in the wild is so different from anything I’ve ever seen in a zoo that you could almost believe they are different species. Fortunately I have one more hour tomorrow morning. Second Gorilla Trek This trek started out with a more satisfying hike, probably a couple of miles. 1.5 hours, but we went pretty slow both ways. This time there were only four adults – three females and the silverback, plus 3 month old infant. Because there was only one group of animals, and because they had nestled down in a thick brambly area next to a large fallen log, there were only a couple of spots from which you could get a decent line of sight (and take pictures) at any one time; it changed a little as the animals moved, but they didn’t move much. As a result, the large group (8 tourists) was much more of a problem – for this small a gorilla family they really should have kept the group size down, maybe 4 people. Otherwise is pretty interesting; unlike yesterday, it was easy to get a really good view of the silverback, who was badly injured in a fight recently – lost some fingers, huge gash on neck and shoulder. He survived, but lost half his harem, and is so badly weakened that it would be easy for an aggressive younger male to finish him next time. He didn’t move much while we watched, and indeed acted weak and sick. The group size was mainly a problem for seeing the infant, who was down between mother and silverback from soon after we arrived until only a few minutes before our hour was up – at any one time there was only a very narrow line of sight to him. I did manage to get a few photos. Also interestingly, near the end a couple of the females came up right next to where 3 of us were standing, and crawled off into a cave-like gap in the undergrowth where they embraced each other and made crooning noises; guide said it was a kind of yearning for the silverback to recuperate and copulate with them again. Later both of them ended walking back through the three of us; had I cared (and dared) to I could easily have petted one as it walked by – totally ignoring us, as if we were stumps or something. I was really glad I went twice, since the two experiences were quite different. This whole part of the trip has been very satisfying. I feel that I understand what I’ve read about both chimps and gorillas much better than I did before. June 21 The drive over into Rwanda yesterday was lovely, although the haze in the air limited the view. Crossing the border into Rwanda is particularly interesting. I think they’re freaked out both by the ebola epidemic in the Congo and by the attendant refugee crisis. So Male stopped the truck 50 feet short of the double gates at the border, and instructed me to visit the immigration office on the Uganda side. There I had to submit my passport to 2 individuals, each of whom separately questioned me then stamped my visa. After that I walked the 50 feet to the gate, passed through, went to a UN health agency tent on the left, where a young woman dressed in scrubs sprayed my hands with disinfectant soap, directed me to rinse them, while a computer readout announced my temperature, then sprayed a Clorox-smelling substance on my hands, then directed me to the police unit next to her. The police woman asked me some questions, scrutinized my passport, and directed me across the street to their immigration office. More questions, more stamps on my passport, and wait for Male, who is busy filling out his own paperwork. Finally the gate opened, he drove through and parked next to the police station, where I was directed to put my luggage on a table and open it. The policewoman rifled through it a bit, then sent us (finally) along our way. This whole time one other tourist vehicle, 4 locals on bicycles, and one pedestrian passed through. Heavy traffic indeed. For the golden monkeys, we started at the national park HQ, where over 30 people met a guide… my heart sank. Fortunately another guide came up and they split the group – but there were still 17 in the group I was assigned to. As I feared, that was way too many, especially in the dense brush, some up to 10 feet high; we kept getting in each other’s way, much worse than the second gorilla trek, although after a half hour the guide and trackers managed to find enough smaller monkey clusters to divide us up into almost reasonable-size subgroups. Before that happened, though, I almost got into it with a couple from New Zealand. It also helped when some of the monkeys came down out of the dense foliage in the tree-tops closer to the ground. From the negative to the positive: The monkeys are beautiful, active, with interesting behaviors. A high point for me with my interest in grooming: I caught 2 or 3 videos of two females grooming each other on a branch 12 feet from me, maybe 8 feet above the ground. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with the golden monkeys but I’m not sure I’d recommend going to quite such lengths to see them – a full day driving there, a full day for one hour with the monkeys and the drive to Kigale, and then a full day’s flight tomorrow to Zambia. To be fair, getting to Zambia from Uganda might have taken most of a day as well. However, aside from the huge tour group size, I’d recommend it to anyone who is planning to be in that part of Rwanda for other tours.   A few words about this area. It’s almost all mountains, most (aside from the national parks) covered with fields nearly to the top – incredibly steep fields of tea, beans, corn, sorghum, bananas, yams, and closer to the national park itself, potatoes. Small villages string out along the roads – the main roads well paved but most of the roads dirt / gravel, badly eroded and very rough. Buildings are mostly dilapidated; half the population is dirt poor. I saw several women employed sweeping eucalyptus leaves off the graveled road shoulder – I shudder to think what they are probably paid. Everywhere you see people pushing bicycles, piled precariously high with stacks of potatoes or onions, bunches of bananas, sawn planks (they saw the logs into planks where they are cut) and other loads. The bicycle freight people work all day long, load after load, for the brokers who buy from producers and sell to consumers. We saw many women with infants strapped to their backs working in the 20 degree slope fields or carrying what looked to be nearly 100 pound loads on their heads. Horridly hard work – but it’s (barely) a living. About 2/3 of the kids up to age 8 or 9 wave and call hello enthusiastically as we pass. I’ve seen only one beggar (an old drunk who hit Male up for drink money) but the slightest show of interest opens the door to being hustled to buy this, that, or the other. A positive note; several NGOs (I was particularly impressed with one named, I think, Rescue The Women – I will check it out when I get home and contribute something) are working on training women and children in money-earning skills, including weaving baskets and carving the wood statues, bowls, masks, and walking sticks tourists will buy. I have some pictures of one of the craft schools. Saturday, June 22 Beginning of a long day. Security at the Kigali airport is really tight – they check both cars and people driving in, then do a regular security check on the way to the gate. The security guy looked askance at my Kind bars (maybe he thought they were laced with drugs or something…) Anyway, this is a chance to catch up with sorting and deleting photos, and cutting a few really good ones down for e-mailing. The hotel did a poor job with my GF breakfast; in spite of a long discussion last night, it had pancakes, a muffin, coffee cake, and granola (which often has wheat in it, alas). There was a banana and very small container of yogurt; I gave the rest to Male, who hadn’t had breakfast yet. Glad I brought all those Kind bars! End of a long day – ended better than it began, with a night game drive: male lion, several hippos grazing, a mongoose, followed by an excellent dinner. A hippo is snorting right outside my door right now – we saw it grazing on the lawn as I was being escorted to my room (no walking outdoors alone at night!) They have internet here at Mfume Lodge, the main lodge, but I won’t have access again for a week. I’ll send this before breakfast tomorrow and that will be it until I’m on the way home.   Weaver birds There are several species of these birds in Africa, not all as beautiful as these. All of them have pretty songs, however. They weave hanging nests of whatever fibers are locally available, usually long grasses, like these. The opening is always at the bottom, to render it less vulnerable to predators. The birds build their nests in colonies, sometimes all hanging from branches of the same tree (in Namibia trees are sparse; I saw one single tree with hundreds of birds clustering around it. In Rwanda trees are more abundant; as you can see in the picture nests hang from branches of several trees as well as from palm fronds.) Statue made of bamboo strips in a park where they celebrate the mountain gorilla. One of the volcanos in the background.   Grooming This behavior is common to virtually all social primates and many other social species. Many primates live in large groups and have complex social relationships, both horizontal and hierarchical. Grooming plays an important part in managing these complex social structures. At a purely functional level, grooming consists of picking parasites off the other animal’s skin as well as removing burrs. But touch itself is very powerful in other animals, as it is in humans. Grooming tends to release endorphins (hormones that reduce tension and create a pleasant, relaxed feeling that is very pleasurable), so grooming helps both create and strengthen bonds of affiliation (friendship and mutual support). But grooming also helps manage hierarchies: When conflict breaks out within a group, the winner often grooms the loser, helping to reduce stress and animosity. Primates in species with complex hierarchical social structures often spend as much as 90% of their waking time when they are not eating grooming and being groomed; that’s how important it is. Note that touch is also a powerful force in human relationships – when nurses touch patients frequently, healing is faster and complications fewer; children who are not touched, held, hugged, etc. frequently by caregivers and others almost always develop psychological disorders. Anthropologist Robin Dunbar claims that human language may have developed at least in part as a way to supplement and extend grooming: In his research 65% of all conversation is about relationships (not about “getting the business done”). Language triples one’s ability to maintain social relationships: you can talk with and “give strokes” to three people at once, but usually only engage in affectionate touch with one at a time. So, according to Dunbar, language allowed humans to triple the size of our primary social contacts, from around 60 to nearly 200. (However, the chimpanzee groups in Bwindi National Park total about 120 each, organized in smaller family groups as small as 4-8 and as large as 20 or so.) I got videos of grooming among chimps (it was hard to get good footage because of the relatively dense foliage) as well as some excellent video of both baboons and golden monkeys grooming.

Africa 2019 South Luanga Zambia continued.

Chindeni Camp, Day 2 Today started out well, with about an hour watching a group of baboons that included several juveniles and one 3 day old infant. The distance was too great for very good video but I got some really nice stills. Here is one of two 3 month olds in a tree; below, the infant and his mother. [I just heard the sound of breaking branches – looked over and saw an elephant grazing on a tree behind the next cabin over.] After a while we started our morning walk – very different from yesterday afternoon, this morning we saw and watched several elephants (at a respectful distance), impala, kudu, and baboons. It is really nice to see them from the level of the ground. After lunch, we drove to a different place where I could try to video a baby; I did get a couple of nice stills. The videos are shaky – hard to video with my Canon, and it was too distant for the iPhone. But here is a still that I think is rather nice. After that we had the usual sundowner – this time with popcorn, far preferable to little sausages. As dark fell we drove back; a leopard crossed the road in front of us; we tried to find him again to follow him but he was hiding. We did see a porcupine, quills all extended and lovely in the headlamps, a spotted hyena, which we followed for a few minutes before it disappeared into the bush, and a civet and its only other family member, a Back in camp, the chef prepared a meal with two salads, a vegetable, and a rice / vegetable dish as well as baked chicken; much more satisfactory. For desert he did an apple crumble which, the hostess assured me, was definitely gluten free. It was actually a bit light on apple but pretty good anyway. Day 3 Today started out very poorly. Apparently the crumble was not gluten free; I spent 3 hours on the toilet, 1 to 4 a.m., finally got another hour’s sleep. As I was awake, I thought about the fact that I had been experiencing low level diarrhea and mild stomach cramps since arriving in Zambia: Because I had come down with a sinus cold, I had thought perhaps I might have one of the viruses that affect stomach as well as sinus. But this experience – 4 hours after a meal – is definitely gluten. I decided that somehow their gluten-free flour must be tainted, and that for the rest of the trip I might need to avoid all baked goods, supposedly gluten free or not. On the other hand it’s possible they prepare the regular cake first, and may even use the same implements for measuring the flour. I clearly need to invest even more energy into communicating about it. For the first time I slept past 5; when the staff member awakened me at 5:30 I felt weak, tired, spent. (In effect, no dinner and very little sleep.) Got up, dressed, staggered over to the eating area; a cup of coffee began the process of reviving me. The elephant was over on the other side of the eating area, providing entertainment. Breakfast – I avoided the toast, did chance the oatmeal with nuts, dried fruit, and some jam as well as a large plate of fruit; it, plus more coffee, revived me even more. We drove out a ways, parked, and walked. Saw several elephants at a respectful distance, these two warthogs posing for a picture, this puku and African duck, a couple of Cape buffalo, and a green-wing bee-eater (picture on the next page.) At our coffee break, I had a couple of Kind bars, which further revived me: actually the walk did as much as anything to restore my energy. We had lunch (again, plenty of salad, a delicious lentil dish, tropical fruit) – so they did listen to my complaint about the meat to greens ratio! We drove over the next camp, and now I am sitting on the deck of my cabin overlooking a water cabbage filled lagoon with its own private rhino. I feel completely recovered and the lack of stomach cramping confirms my suspicion about the contamination problem. After lunch we went for a long walk along the river, didn’t see much new, but had a good walk, which ended at a surprise – a setup for a BBQ “sundowner,” gin and tonic and little spits of beef and veggies, all while seated in 5 inch deep flo,wing water in this tributary to the main river, which is free of parasites and because so shallow also free of crocs. Nice little party, quite lovely sunset. In the rest of the drive, we saw another porcupine, had a really good view of a civet and two genets (the only other member of the civet family.) I also learned that farm-raised civets not only provide a substance used in perfume, they are also fed coffee beans, which pass through their digestive systems and dried to produce one of the world’s most expensive coffees. I don’t know what they call it, probably something like Civet Poop Expresso. Zambia Day 4 Wednesday I talked at length with the manager about the contamination issue, she reassured me, so I decided to give their baked goods a try. Without the GF toast, breakfast would be very skimpy: I don’t trust the oatmeal; there were boiled eggs and some apples and oranges (I can’t believe the scarcity of tropical fruit! Even bananas.) No apparent problems from that or the little cookies they made for the morning coffee break. We drove a while this morning, saw a hyena and her half-grown pups, took some good photos before they walked off into the deep grass. A bit later we started walking; I learned several interesting things, including about another species of termite (harvester) and some additional multi-use plants. We came to some giraffes, which approached us instead of fleeing; seeing them from ground level was interestingly different. I took more videos of them walking, and later when we saw an elephant in a marshy area eating, I took a video of that. It would pull up a hunk of grass, shake it and beat it against the ground to knock off most of the dirt, then eat it. We had a brunch picnic under some trees; they had a pizza oven setup for people to make their own pizzas; they provided two pre-formed gf shells for me (9 inches: I only needed one). There was also a pretty nice salad, lettuce, cucumber, and avocado. Others ate a little, but there was enough left that I had a 2nd plate which pretty well filled me up. Now I am sitting on the deck looking out at the water hole – Harry the Hippo is gone, probably in a different water hole, so my main entertainment is lacking, but I have seen several visits from impala, kudu, and puku. There’s also some nice birdsong. The evening drive was a little disappointing, although we did get a really good view of a couple of honey badgers – beautiful animals with a wide greyish stripe down the back. We also drove through a group of four male elephants who did not seem thrilled to have us so close, but none of them bellowed at us. And we saw a genet just sitting in an open area; I took several photos in the spotlight; I think one or two might be sharp enough (thanks to the brace Shad put on the vehicle) to crop down to be usable. Back in camp, Harry the hippo is back, I gather from the splashing and occasional snort from the pond. I think he’s munching on the water plants again. Day 5 Thursday Today started with a walk along the Kapamba river, after crossing at the ford. Shadrack spotted a couple of male lion tracks so we circled around through the bush to get ahead of them; decided they were between us and the truck so started back after the usual coffee break. However, we didn’t spot them, so Shad followed the tracks out onto the sandbar and discovered they had crossed the river. Driving back toward camp we came across two elephants feeding. One reared up on its hind legs just as we arrived, to reach some high branches, but was back on all fours before I could deploy the camera. I got several pictures of him stretching to reach, but he refused to rear up for me again. We returned to camp for lunch (this seems to be obligatory), after which we drove to the next camp, Zungalila. The situation faces the Kapamba river, separated by a field where some Puku and impalas are grazing. I’ll miss the pond right under my deck at Bilmungwe. After lunch I took a soaking bath in the huge brass tub on a corner of my deck; very luxurious. It gets quite hot for about an hour every afternoon, about two to three, then cools down. They are also fixated on afternoon tea here, British influence I suppose, but it kills a half hour that could be spent observing animals. After tea we drove over to the area where we’d seen the vultures, and found a dead hyena, half eaten by vultures and quite ripe after 28 hours . Shad said he thought the two male lions we tracked had killed something, some hyenas tried to steal it from them and this one got killed. I let him know I was a bit pissed that he didn’t follow the vulture sign yesterday, as I requested, and emphasized again that I don’t care about lunch and tea and all that. He said he was afraid the other guests would have their lunch held up, and I pointed out he could have called the lodge and told them to eat without us! He’s generally a pretty good guide but way too fixated on schedules – at the outset the manager of Mfuwe lodge told me we could do whatever I want, including timing of meals, but it hasn’t worked out that way; this is about the third potentially interesting activity sacrificed for the rigid British meal and afternoon rest schedule. My irritation was largely assuaged on the drive back to camp (after the also obligatory “sundowner,” cocktail hour in the wild) when we spotted a genet sitting on the far bank of the river, and watched it walking along, in plain sight, illuminated by Shad’s spotlight, for a minute or two. Later we briefly spotted a bush baby (a very small primate, nocturnal and hard to see) and then saw another, clinging to a small tree trunk. This one let us see him longer, as he descended the tree, went up another branch, and jumped several times (20 or more times his body length) to nearby trees. He was shaped somewhat like a monkey, but with a head and face more like a cat, with pointed ears and distinctive black markings, very pretty. He moved way too fast to get any pictures. Zambia 6&7, Friday, June 28 Today started out with a bit of a surprise when we rounded a corner and saw a hyena in the road ahead of us, walking toward us. Then we saw some other hyenas in the woods on either side, and a second hyena joined the one on the road. I got some nice pictures before they both went off into the thick brush. After driving around a bit we walked around the vulture / hyena kill area to see if we could see any other signs of that fight. Nice walk; I learned some more interesting stuff about the plants. After our morning tea break, driving back we saw a huge croc just getting into a waterhole – submerged by the time I deployed the camera, but I did get some shots of a couple of other biggies farther away, and one smaller croc facing us with its mouth wide open. I look forward to seeing how those came out. We also watched an elephant crossing the river, wondering how he was going to climb the high, vertical bank in front of him. I got a video of when he realized the problem, turned around, and headed back toward where he started. I also got a couple good shots of a violet-breasted roller, a beautiful bird with bright blue as well. When they fly they’re even prettier, with bright blue underwings. Today was not as rich in animal sightings, although of course we saw lots of elephants, baboons, and impala, as well as other antelope species including bushbuck and waterbuck, and a few kudu (not as plentiful here). Mama and others helping the baby elephant up the steep bank. Note small elephants are totally wet; they had to swim, using trunks as snorkels. The night drive was better: It started out with few sightings, but then we saw a line of elephants looking like it was ready to cross the river, with one very young baby. So Shad decided to have the “sundowner” there, while we watched them. They walked up the bank a couple hundred meters until across from a sandbar, and walked fairly quickly across. The baby and one of the juveniles had to swim part of the way (it was ¾ the way up the big male’s rump), with their trunks up above water like periscopes. In this section one of the elephants trumpeted; Shad said probably a crocodile bit it’s tail – he showed me another elephant earlier with just a stump of a tail, the rest having been bitten entirely off. On the far bank, the baby and two other juveniles struggled for ten minutes or so to get up the steep bank onto the sandbar; the baby had to be boosted by two adults’ trunks. Several of the elephants lay down on the sand to rest before they were willing to go on. Above: the genet in the spotlight. Below: White-tailed mongoose After drinks, after it grew dark we saw another leopard in the road in front of us for several minutes, then a genet who displayed himself for a while as he foraged, two African weasels, and a white-tailed mongoose who foraged in a nearly empty field for some time while I photographed him in the spotlight – probably the highlight of the entire evening. When we got back to camp a huge herd of Cape buffalo had moved in to the large meadow between the lodge and the river; all night you could hear them snuffling and grumbling. Peter and Barbara, a couple from Toronto, were the only other guests at this camp. They were nice enough, but Peter had an annoying way of talking, like texting with multiple exclamation points at the end of every sentence. I wondered if he had taken a class on how to be load everything he says with intense, enthusiastic, positive emotion – he came off almost sanctimoniously cheerful. Barbara seemed to have a kind of dry sense of humor; Peter may have been semi-consciously compensating. Our interaction got a very poor start when I told them, in answer to his question, that I teach Communication and he exclaimed – oh, public relations?!!! I said no, and he came back with effusive praise for Marshall McLuhan (a Toronto-based ‘60s/70s media guru, lots of clever wordplay and absolutely no supporting evidence). I was once taken with McLuhan until I began to realize how empty it all was, just amusing word-play with no evidentiary grounding. Anyway, I just responded “he’s a gasbag,” which did nothing for amiable relations. Of course I regretted being so blunt, but Peter’s effusiveness left no room for a more measured and considered response. I haven’t mentioned the potato plant – in the damper air of morning and evening, it gives off a distinct scent of cooking potatoes. Also, the “go away” bird, with its distinctive “go ‘way” call. Saturday June 29 This was the best day yet. I got up early as usual, and while I was drinking my coffee the server pointed out a lion, which I would never have seen in the dim twilight on my own, maybe ten meters from the buffalo. I watched as the buffalo moved toward the lion and the lion moved toward them: abruptly the closes buffalo charged the lion, who retreated back to a respectful distance, then stood there for some time just eyeing the buffalo before walking around the herd and into the brush. Yesterday I had another talk with Shad about my priorities, and how I did not want the drive back to Mfuwe to be a direct drive there, and did not want to waste an hour and a half having their extended leisurely lunch, or stop the morning drive after lunch. I guess I should have been more forceful about it earlier (I thought I had expressed myself pretty clearly, but evidently not clearly enough!) He asked the camp chef to prepare box lunches for us, and in the actuality we stopped for 20 or 30 minute lunch break, didn’t arrive at Mfuwe Lodge until about 1:30 – then went out again at 3:40, exactly what I had expected every day to be like. African fish eagle – strong resemblance to American bald eagle [At Mfuwe lodge the manager asked my experience and expressed my frustration about it – actually my only point of frustration or disappointment with the experience. She kept saying “99% of people don’t want that” and couldn’t quite get that I wasn’t talking about 99% of people. I frankly doubt her statistics, although I’m sure that more people want to lounge around a good part of the day with a couple of 3 hour game viewings. ] I don’t clearly recall the order of all that we saw – virtually nothing until we had drive some ways from the lodge, because we had to drive through a kapani forest, trees the elephants decimate, with little forage for other species. We found and watched a troup of baboons for a while; one of the babies was white (a recessive gene I think) and very cute; I wouldn’t have minded watching him more but Shad heard alarm calls and wanted to check to see if there was a leopard. There wasn’t, but a bit later we came across a family of four lions; mom, a nearly full-grown male and female, and a smaller, younger male, all resting in the shade while we photographed them. During the day I managed to get a very nice photo of an African hawk eagle in the air, and another photo of an African fish eagle (previous page) also in the air, then a picture of a bee eater hovering above the river while the breeze carried insects to his hungry mouth. (That was while we were eating lunch at a shady spot on a high bank above the river.) There were several hippos in the water, two of whom I took pictures of while climbing out onto the bank. (It was a cool morning and many animals were just soaking up sun, warming themselves.) The picture above shows one of the hippos with a baby crocodile just this side of it. I’ve really enjoyed their almost constant chorus of grunts and chuckles. After lunch we spotted a lioness, nursing a single cub in the shade. While we watched she moved out into the sun, cub following her: She looked in really bad shape, thin, poor coat, decided limp. When I inspected her through binoculars I could see a festering wound on one paw, Shad said probably from hyenas driving her away from a kill. She didn’t look in much shape to kill anything again, and her cub suckled so intently, without playing at all, that it looked like her milk was inadequate. She’ll likely die, and if another lioness doesn’t intervene, the cub as well. Seeing them threw a bit of a pall on an otherwise wonderful day. Thinking about the elephant who had so tenuously started across the river, I asked Shad about quicksand. They don’t have it in the rivers, but Shad drove up onto a plateau, stopped the car, and led me to some quicksand pools in the center of a somewhat arid plane. There were several, each 6-8 feet in diameter. They are apparently the top of volcanic pipes, with springs rising up and evaporating, leaving a dry crust of 3 to 8 inches. We stood on the edge of one of the thicker ones and bounced; you could feel it bounce under you – a very queasy feeling. Another one had a large stick lying on it; Shad picked it up and, with very little effort, drove it through the thin crust into the soupy mud below, which quickly swallowed it up. There were animal tracks all around; very likely many many dead animals sinking gradually down most of the pipes. When we reached Mfuwe lodge a huge busload of tourists were unloading – what a zoo, then and at afternoon tea. This is the end of shoulder season, beginning of high season; people from China and all over Europe as well as the U.S. and Canada. Tea was a zoo. They had made a nice lemon poppyseed cake, and a smaller GF version, already cut (with what knife I can only guess.) One of the staff served a piece of the regular cake, while I went around to get a plate and fork; when she started to serve a piece of GF with the same serving implement (covered with sticky crumbs from the non-GF cake) I cried “don’t touch that!” I explained about contamination and served myself with the fork. There was such a horde of people around the table by then I just grabbed a couple pieces of fruit and headed off to a remote table. I had mild gluten symptoms later that evening and when I awoke; I think probably she had already cut the non-GF cake first then cut the GF cake with the same knife. The GF cake, however, was quite good. After tea, Shadrack quickly drove off away from the lodge, which was a very good decision. Among other interesting sights we spotted a lone hyena with a limp; through binoculars we could see it had injuries on two paws – and what appeared to be mange all up it’s throat and lower face. Like the lioness yesterday, the hyena looked to be in very poor condition, unfit for hunting and very likely hungry. We saw a couple of other (healthy) hyenas later, and another genet, which sat still for a long inspection and photo session. Sunday, June 30 – departure day I awoke with mild diarrhea – worrisome at the beginning of a 40 hour plane trip – but it cleared up before time to get on the first plane. At breakfast I noticed the server turning over regular toast then using the same tongs to serve GF French toast to me, more evidence of the casualness that probably caused my digestive issues. If I ever do return here I will avoid large resorts like Mfuwe Lodge – it is much easier to train up a smaller staff with fewer guests. I bought a small bag in the gift shop to carry computer, book, and earphones so I can put the other carry-on in the luggage bin and leave it there. Shad and I set out for a short (not even 2 hour) ride, which was nonetheless very satisfactory. Right out of the gate we saw two wild dogs, just beginning a hunt. Shad says they’re rarely sighted; he’s had guests who’ve come to Africa 20 times and never seen one, so apparently I’ve been very lucky. Then we saw a leopard who sat for photographs for a while before getting up and disappearing into the bush. We also saw a purple-crested turaco, then a second joined it. (above) Lovely green breasts, orange markings on the eyes; they did not turn their backs so I could not see the colorful back, but they did sit in plain view, which Shad says is unusual; he hears their call a lot but rarely even gets a glimpse of one, since they like dense foliage (and blend in well). So the day started out very well indeed. No sightings on the way to the airport, but we stopped at a native handcraft store where I picked up a couple of thing. But on the flight back to Lusaka we stopped at a little dirt airstrip (Zeki); while landing crossed the Zambezi River, and I saw several pods of hippos in the water and on land next to the river, as well as some elephants. Shadrack. Shadrack and me at the river picnic. We mostly got along very well. Shadrack has a skewed sense of humor similar to mine; we joked about all the elephants that bellowed at us, about my forgetting one thing and his forgetting another, many small funny things. He is very knowledgeable, imparts knowledge in suitably small bites so I never felt overwhelmed; has a good sense of the animals, so I ended up (partly because of his tracking skill, partly through luck) seeing everything I wanted to see and being able to watch several animals for several minutes or in some cases an hour or more. My main frustration was his insistence on adhering to the breakfast / morning tea / 11 am brunch / 4 hour rest / afternoon tea schedule. The managers all told me I didn’t have to stick to schedule; could set my own schedule, but until the last day he simply refused to do it – more concerned about the kitchen staff, I felt, than about me. A second minor annoyance was failure to explain some decisions, like abandoning the chase for the wild dogs the last day; when he pointed out they had gone into dense brush plus all the vehicles chasing them, I fully agreed. But mostly, I fairly quickly learned to trust and rely on his judgment, and enjoyed the time with him. Shadrack’s brother Mishack manages the last camp where I stayed; they look much alike, although vocal intonation and expressions differ quite a bit. I don’t know if there’s a third brother, Abednigo, or not. Coda: getting home The Kenya Air flight to Nairobi was delayed an hour and a half – enough that they closed the gate on the KLM flight just as we were landing, at 12:05. There ensued a comedy of waiting lines: one to get approval for a voucher for a hotel stay, one to get through passport control, another waiting for the actual voucher, and finally (at 2 am), one for an actual room key. I finally got to bed at 2:20, with the bus back to the airport expected at 5. 2 hours of very solid sleep and a hot shower later, I was sitting on the bus waiting for other stranded passengers (at least 30, some for my flight, some for a flight to Paris). Then the bus stopped at three other hotels, eating up more time. A mile or two short of the airport, there was a police check; we all had to get off the bus and go through a security screen, then find our bus again in the melee of busses and cars. I write this sitting in the waiting room for my rebooked flight to Amsterdam, on Kenya Airlines (a “partner” of KLM and Delta – a system that works rather poorly at best). Kenya Airlines does not have comfort plus seating, so I’ll have to hassle KLM to get that money refunded – and I’ll have to spend 7 hours in a cramped coach seat. I finally talked the cabin crew into allowing me to occupy a bulkhead seat with wonderful legroom – they said I’d have to pay for it in Amsterdam, but no-one met me at the gate. My hunch is that the staff in Amsterdam saw that I had paid for it already – so I won’t have to hassle KLM about it. The flight to Minneapolis was fairly good. I had also paid for a bulkhead seat there; they seated me in a center seat in the no leg-room section; I complained about it, and managed to get moved to an aisle seat, still no leg-room but at least not jammed between two people. I will have to hassle Delta about the $109 I paid for leg-room I didn’t get. [It turned out not to be a hassle; the agent regularly agreed to refund it. Delta is back in my good graces. Not KLM.] My seat-mate was a nice young woman; we chatted the last two hours into Minneapolis. She was a ballet dancer in high school, now applying for medical school. Showed me some videos of her dancing a couple of studio pieces; she was very good, danced the sugar plum fairy in Nutcracker, but already plagued by arthritis in her toes, reluctantly gave it up. The flight to Portland, still no leg-room, aisle seat in a row of 3, fortunately the center seat was empty so I was able to stretch out in that direction a bit. Dead tired, I was actually hallucinating the last hour into Portland (would see some shape out of the corner of my eye, think it was something else; other perceptual oddities). Slept well in spite of severe leg-cramps from sitting for 70 hours straight – very glad to be home. I managed to get a slightly blurred picture of a baboon in mid-jump and a better one of an impala in mid-jump. The exaggerated jump, like the practice of “stotting” (vertical stiff-legged jumps) may be a way to demonstrated to any watching predators that this impala would not be easy to catch.

Zambia: South Luangwa National Park

First day started out well (after a night of good sleep, interrupted intermittently by Hippo snorts and grunts). Pleasant slightly cool morning, chef made good GF muffins and French Toast for me, plus a dish of fruit made a nice breakfast. In a moving car I needed a jacket, but when it stopped I was too warm. We started out watching some of the multitude of hippos in this river, most back in the water as the sun came up; also saw Cape buffalo and a couple of leopards – they’re much more common here than in Botswana. Waterbuck are also plentiful; this is a particularly nice one close enough for a good photo, near a small waterhole with several of these colorful storks and a juvenile crocodile, maybe 6 feet long. A herd of elephants were parading toward a waterhole so we drove there and took a number of nice photos and a couple videos of the elephants drinking. We had a bit of excitement a little later; came across this mama elephant and her half-grown calf, along with another couple of elephants and these impala. Shadrack (my guide / driver) decided that we should take a closer look at the cow and calf, so he drove on to the road behind them, drove up to the point where we had a good view and stopped the vehicle. Mama elephant did not appreciate our presence that close to her baby; she gave a loud trumpet and charged. Leonard (the park service guard with us) raised his gun (to shoot in the air to scare her off, not to shoot the elephant) but she stopped less than 10 feet from the car, swayed, flapped her ears at us, and glowered for a minute or two then turned and ambled on away from us. My heart rate picked up a bit, and I didn’t get a picture (or a recording of her trumpet) – too busy scooting to the far side of the vehicle. We saw one more new animal, a local variety of giraffe, shorter neck and legs than the ones in Botswana, and darker color (Shadrack says that’s a sign of age.) The morning concluded with a brunch picnic in the shade of some trees next to the river. Apparently they get a lot of British clients, since brunch was “Full English Breakfast” – I would have far preferred something lighter focused around fruit and cheese rather than beans and fried mushrooms! Both for lunch and for dinner, they had 3 meats, 3 starches (all with plenty for seconds) and one each of vegetable and salad (with not enough for more than a small serving). Now I am sitting on my deck listening to birds and watching a kingfisher (I think) catch and eat minnows. This is winter in Zambia; nights get cold enough to need a jacket, days only a little hot, for a couple of hours in the afternoon. On my deck, In the evening we went for an informative walk, then drove to an open area by a river with a number of hippos in it and elephants on the far bank for a “sundowner: -- gin and tonic, with some sausages. (I am really getting overdosed on meat – spoke to the hostess about it; she promised to talk to the chef.) After the cocktail hour, we drove through a lovely sunset meadow; I took a few pictures, one of which nicely captures the mood. Golden light, impala and yellow baboons feeding in the meadow. As it was approaching dark, we spotted a leopard, stopped to watch it. It was obviously eying a herd of impala a few hundred meters across the meadow. The light wasn’t good enough for pictures, but with the help of Aubrey’s (the spotter) spotlight, I got these pictures of the leopard stretching and setting off back into the woods. Shadrack was confident the leopard was going to circle around through the woods and try to get one of the impala, so we circled around for a bit, trying to get in front of him; found him again, watched him stalk the impalas, drove out to the herd to be in position to watch the attack if he attempted it (by now it was totally dark). The impala only glanced at us and were all looking intently in the direction of the leopard. After another half hour or so Shadrack decided there was not going to be any action that night, and we went back to camp, where I changed into clean clothes for dinner. Again three meats, all bbq, chicken, think pork chops, and beef steaks, some small thin-walled half squashes (about 1 or 1.5 tablespoon of flesh in each), a cornmeal dish eaten by the natives, and a skimpy bowl of cole slaw, about enough for a large tablespoonful apiece. Instead of taking all the meat up when it was done, they waited to serve it directly from the grill so the pork steak in particular was overcooked and dry. (I only had that and the chicken.) For dessert they served everybody but me what looked like either cheesecake or some kind of custard pie; they set a small green apple on a plate in front of me. It pissed me off and I almost got up and left it there and went back to my room but I didn’t want to spoil the evening for the others, so I cut it up and ate it without comment. I did speak to the hostess this morning; today’s lunch was a vast improvement, cold ham & pineapple, a nice cucumber and avocado dish, oven fry potatoes, rice, and a large salad (at last!) We’ll see what happens at dinner.

Luangwa days

Impalas, nervous, start at slinking leopard scent. What will happen next? A spotted beauty, the genet stops in the light, returns to the dark. Baboons groom and play, an impala strolls by, reflected in morning still pond. Elephant dips her trunk, snorts and splashes, hippos grunt, birds warble and scold. Hyena, two pups. She eyes us warily, then slinks into tall grass. Waterhole drying, wading birds hover, probe, seek: feasting on trapped fish. Prints in sand, two lions. We circle around, no prints: we know where they are. Didn’t find them: track them to the river. We had a very nice walk. Monkey fruit tree, bark strychnine-laced, ripe fruit good. Caution is advised. Fish eagles soar, white head and tail backlit by sun: haiku in the sky. Crickets greet the dawn with bird cries and hippo grunts – how still the morning!