The Vagabond Chronicles: China

By Kathy Krejados

In this first installment of The Vagabond Chronicles, we explore China beyond Beijing and the Great Wall. We travel to out-of-the-way places, talk with the locals, eat their food and learn their customs. This is a very personal narrative, from the perspective of a long-time traveler with a thirst for adventure. From the first page, saying goodbye to all that is safe and familiar, through the first rocky days, when everything seemed uncertain, to the growing assuredness of a seasoned expat, you'll laugh, cry and maybe... maybe! decide that such an experience would suit you, too.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kathy Krejados
• Release date: Feb 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370082858

Kathy Krejados

Kathy is a self-professed vagabond, albeit with pretensions. When she is not riding the rails, she enjoys cycling, cooking and studying culture - which ties in nicely with her love of travel. She currently lives in China with her two houseplants: Vera and Guy.

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The Vagabond Chronicles: China

By Kathy Krejados

Copyright 2017 Kathy Krejados

Smashwords Edition

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite retailer. Thank you for your support.

This book is dedicated to those who have encouraged and supported my adventures: Conspirators – without whom this book would not exist, friends who relish the tales and family, who laugh, hug and/or wipe the tears away, as needed. G and C, you qualify for all three categories!

Table of Contents

Prologue: What Kind of Idiot?

Part 1: Getting Ready to Go; Getting There

Chapter 1: Viva Las Vegas... or Not?

Chapter 2: The Quest for Shoes

Chapter 3: Significant Other

Chapter 4: U.S. to Wuhan, via Shanghai

Chapter 5: Arrival Wuhan; Meet the Boss

Chapter 6: The New House

Part 2: Firsts

Chapter 1: First Outings

Chapter 2: First Day of Class

Chapter 3: A Great Honor

Chapter 4: Montezuma's Family Reunion

Chapter 5: Twelve hour Shifts

Chapter 6: Stepping Out on my Own

Chapter 7: I Have a Box

Chapter 8: Flouted!

Chapter 9: First Road Trip

Part 3: Travel

Chapter 1: Wen Zhou

Chapter 2: Hang Zhou

Chapter 3: Xi'an

Chapter 4: Cheng Du

Chapter 5: Nan Jing

Chapter 6: Qing Dao

Chapter 7: Shi Shou

Chapter 8: The Demise of Kathy-The Kid

Chapter 9: Su Zhou

Chapter 10: Traveling Companions

Chapter 11: Chong Qing

Chapter 12: Chi Bi

Chapter 13: Could I Live There?

Chapter 14: Tibet

Part 4: Culture

Chapter 1: Noteworthy Iconic Idiosyncrasies of Chinese People

Chapter 2: Toilet Paper

Chapter 3: Paradoxes

Chapter 4: Oxymorons

Chapter 5: Essentially Chinese

Chapter 6: A Monty Python Skit

Chapter 7: Boo Tie Shoo Foo

Chapter 8: How to Celebrate Birthdays, Chinese Style

Chapter 9: Mid-Autumn Festival

Chapter 10: Observing Qing Ming

Chapter 11: Death Rites

Chapter 12: Poor Funeral Directors!

Chapter 13: Dragonboat Festival

Chapter 14: Omissions

Part 5: Odds and Ends

Chapter 1: A Year in China

Chapter 2: A Day in the Life Of...

Chapter 3: What's to Love in China?

Chapter 4: I'm Going to be Arrested!

Epilogue: The Little Prince's Rose

Prologue: What Kind of Idiot?

I am at the freest time of my life: the kids grown and gone and not dependent on my wallet, a very secure career that pays really well and has great benefits, debt-free. I live in a nice house, have plenty of leisure time, wake up pretty much when I feel like it after a restful 8 hours of sleep. My only obligation is to go to work as scheduled. I am healthy, happy, have plenty of friends, I'm single... but that will be the subject of another chapter.

What's missing? I didn't know, but for a long time I felt that I'm not where I'm supposed to be. How could that be? I have pretty much everything except a significant other, and I already said that would be a topic for another chapter.

I did everything backwards. I married very young, had children immediately after marriage. By the time I was 22 I was divorced with 2 kids to care for. Even more complicated: I grew up in Europe, but found myself suddenly alone, in America... just me and those two kids. I didn't know how to be an adult, how to be a parent or how to live in a country I had only had a passing acquaintance with growing up.

I scrambled for work, doing anything that would feed/clothe/house the Monster-Babies. There were two stints of homelessness and several times, ashamed, I took my place in welfare lines. It was truly a life of desperation.Until I had the great fortune of landing a job in a Federal Facility: everything turned around, then! I had money to support the kids - by then teenagers, I had money to earn social acceptance - no longer did I sense sneers as I handed over my foodstamps, I had buying power... what a heady feeling all this was!

All too soon, the kids moved away, ready for their own life. The life I had built - great job, secure finances, ect., suddenly meant less without them to fend for, and I wondered what to do with myself.

I decided to pursue a college education, having never had time/money for one in my younger days. Guess what? I was really good at academia! The succession of A's first surprised me, then pleased me and, most importantly, earned me a spot on an academic delegation to China. That is where my world went from black and white to color: I suddenly understood my calling and knew where I had to be.

After the challenges life has thrown at me, and how I was able to overcome them without sinking into despair, indeed rising above every miserable vagary I was faced with to achieve the life I have now - successful career complete with professional respect, kids happily established in their own life, financial freedom, ect. I have to ask myself: what kind of idiot walks away from such a life, especially after working so hard to achieve it?

I guess I would be that idiot. Today is my last day working with my esteemed colleagues and even better boss. For the next 3 weeks I will be carless, homeless and jobless, traveling across America to visit the friends I'm fortunate to know before boarding a plane and, once again, starting life in a strange, new place. I've condensed my earthly possessions into two footlockers which are currently on their way to China and the life that awaits me there as a teacher of foreign languages (I speak several of them, but very little Mandarin).

I invite you to partake of my adventures, share the laughs and feel the dismay. Maybe, if I imagine you are reading this, I can dispel some of the loneliness I'm sure to feel at some point in time while getting used to living in a country where I cannot even read the billboards or grocery shop. But mostly, through reading my story, I hope you will see that life is NOT over at (nearly) 50: there are still adventures to be had, new things to learn, new experiences to savor, new sights to enjoy.

C'mon! Let's go live a vagabond's life!

Part I: Getting Ready to Go, and Getting There

Chapter 1: Viva Las Vegas... or not?

Shortly before leaving clearing out of my Texas home, I had gotten a phone call from an old high school friend. This is no mean feat, because I actually went to high school in Berlin, Germany! Only one of my friends from high school and I are still in touch; she and I have been lifelong friends and she lives in Pennsylvania. I will be visiting with her later in my Stateside Roundup of Friends Before Leaving the Country.

When Eva said she had just moved to Vegas from Germany, I fairly jumped at the chance to go see her. Vegas is only 5 hours by car from where my kids live in Southern California, and my son happens to love going to Vegas anyway, so when I pitched the idea to him he was eager for the road trip.

He arranged his work schedule so that he got off at 2:00pm, and swapped cars with a buddy - his car is too unreliable. I packed an overnight bag for me and my grandson, and soon enough we were on the road. I drove because my son was exhausted.

The only event of note on the way was the burning bus. By the time we encountered it, night had fallen, and I didn't know what was burning a quarter-mile ahead, I just knew it was straddling the highway and it was burning. All of the cars ahead of me shut of their lights and engine; I did the same. My son soon woke up and joined me on the side of the road.

You know, its funny how a seeminly deserted highway can fill up! Soon enough there were miles of cars and several people contemplating the nature of the disaster they were privileged to witness, and how long they would be stranded. I contemplated the stars. The lack of light pollution lent me a rare opportunity to see clearly. I was awed. Even though we'd been in the desert for hours, in my rush to get to Vegas, I nearly forgot to take time out to look at the stars. Don't we all forget to look up as we rush here and there?

Soon enough the highway was cleared and we started the engines. As we passed the burning bus, we hoped that no one was hurt, and that whoever was on the bus wouldn't be stranded forever on this desolate road.

My excitement grew as I saw the lights of Vegas in the distance. I had never been there, and so many people love it, rave about it, swear it must be a destination for everyone at some time in their life. My time had come!

As I eased the car into traffic on the strip, I looked around with eyes wide with wonder. This was Vegas! This was The Strip! This was the vacation destination of millions of people worldwide!

Vegas has a pound and beat that is almost audible. It has an energy that draws you in in spite of yourself. One cannot be a casual observer in Vegas; one way or another you become a part of the city, if only for a short while.

Strangely enough, Vegas reminded me of Beijing. The same pulsing energy, the same throngs of people everywhere, the same drawing-in and the same feeling of of being a part of being something huge. As I drove the strip for the first time, my eyes were everywhere, but my thoughts were in China, where I had experienced this vital, moving energy once before.

Yet it seemed to me, Vegas has a whisper of sadness running through it. It is not just a tourist town, it is a place where people live their life, usually earning less in one year than some spend in one spree, hoping to hit the big one. It is a place where dreams come true, but also where, more often, you hear those dreams shattering magnificently or whimpering a quiet death. It is mecca for gamblers and those who wish to break into show business. It is Endgame for performers who have already experienced the peak of their career but are not done entertaining: Cher, Barry Manilow and others.

By daylight, Vegas is a dirty city. Not because people don't ever clean it, but because it is an oasis in the desert. The pavement gets so hot it buckles under the weight of the buses. Zebra-striped pedestrian crossings disappear under bubbling asphalt, the gum (or other ejected body fluids) drying is grayish lumps on the sidewalks and gutters. There is a quiet desperation in the unfinished construction, in the casinos that sell beer 24 hours a day, in the people that partake of that beer and of the casino activities. By daylight, it is too hot to walk in Vegas, so most people don't see this part. But at night... Oh, the blessed night! Under the blanket of now invisible stars, how Vegas glitters, promises and witholds, drawing in again and again those whose imagined fortunes await!

Even though looking ahead is the prime directive in Vegas (besides spend, spend, spend, that is), one should look down at the curbs, to see the homeless and the dejected sitting there, their dreams gone, their survival questionable, their existence not to be denied.

Yes, there is a sadness in Vegas.

However, the reunion with my friend was joyous, loud, and all too short. Eva, when will we have this chance again?

On the way back to California, my son and I looked for the charred carcass of our burning bus. It had already been removed.

Chapter 2: The Quest for Shoes

To every friend I have visited during this jaunt I have given a gift, usually something that they had given me over the years. Mind you, I’m not so churlish that I would actually return a gift; I gave it back to them more in the spirit of safekeeping. Should I return, they could give it back to me. Although not at all necessary, every friend felt compelled to give me a gift, usually something small or serviceable that I could use on my travels, keeping in mind that the airlines have a weight limit to comply with, and I’m not Hercules. Seeing how much weight I can carry is not an adventure I’m seeking.

Of course, I could have simply re-gifted everything I had – Liz’s gift to Cat, Cat’s gift to Marjorie, Marjorie’s to Mark and so on. But I feel re-gifting is tacky and I would never do such a thing. Besides that, each friend had the pleasure of savoring the memory of the original gift-giving occasion all over again, so everything worked out very well in the end.

Marjorie received jewelry from me, and she looks very good wearing it – or not wearing it. She is in fact a very attractive woman whether she wears my jewelry or not. And, she being quite literally the Queen of Charm and a most wonderful friend to boot, she fervently pondered what to gift me in return, Ideas were suggested and rejected, or they hit that grey mark of Yeah, OK… maybe. Let’s see what else we come up with. I was in on the decision-making process, and even my suggestions were… not summarily dismissed, but not quite suited to the magnitude of the gift she wished to make to me. That’s the type of friend Marjorie is.

She settled on buying me a new pair of shoes. Before you scoff, I have to explain what a gift that is. I have very big feet: size 12 if the shoe is cut big. Also, I require a wide width, as my right foot is unnaturally splayed out. If you do not believe how difficult it is to find footwear in this size, please feel free to amble through the large sized shoes at your favorite footwear venue.

As though these two qualifiers were not challenge enough, my left pinky toe does not make contact with the ground. Instead it crosses over the next toe, to the effect that, if I walk bare-footed on the beach I leave a 4-toed foot print rather than a normal, 5-toed one.

There are benefits to this, the main one being that I am forever absolved of suspicion in all crimes involving barefooted, standard-toed suspects. The downside to it: I have a miserable time shopping for shoes. Sure, I could have had corrective surgery to fix my pesky toe problem, but along with the other problems my feet give me, I figured Why Bother? Considering the depressing results of shopping for shoes, maybe I should have had the surgery.

I concede that finding an attractive shoe that makes my foot look dainty and in my size is about akin to melting a glacier with a cigarette lighter, so I have given up on finding attractive shoes and I generally settle for serviceable men’s shoes. I can get away with wearing the lunkier, less feminine shoes when I wear jeans or when I was working, but… I am female! I like looking feminine! I like wearing fun outfits and I NEED the shoes to go with the outfits! NOTE: I’m a pretty normal fit clothes-wise, it is just shoe-wise that I am… difficult.

But still, you wonder: shoes? What kind of gift is that? I mean, really: its not like one must travel on horseback for days or sit astride a mule through the Wild Country fending off snakes and savages in order to buy shoes! You do not have to go ‘back-alley’ and exact a heavy barter for a pair of shoes. To my knowledge, there are no ‘Shoe Sharks’, to whom if you don’t pay the price they will systematically break first your loved ones’ bones and then yours until they get their money! There are literally – to paraphrase …… Shoes, Shoes everywhere and not a pair that fit.

Besides having mailed boots and sports shoes to myself, I am taking 3 pair of shoes to China with me: a pair of flats to work in, a pair of Okabashi to bum around in and a pair of white Sketchers with the strap that crosses over the top of the foot that I’ve had for at least 3 years. Those are to be worn with my capris and other summer outfits. They have really held up well but face it: they are 3 years old. They do not look good. The velcro closure does not hold and, at awkward moments just lets go and causes me to trip over my own shoes. Marjorie recognized this and thus decided to gift me shoes.

Now you know why it was such a huge deal.

Truly: my grin was fully 5/8ths delight at getting new shoes and 3/8ths mocking her for daring to challenge my impossible feet, because shoeing them is sometimes is an impossible feat! Nevertheless, my friend, a self-proclaimed Shopping Queen set off with me in tow (toe? Pun intended) to find shoes.

We started at the local mall – a logical choice for people with normal feet. At the mall, shoes stores abound. We checked Macy’s, Sears, Payless… where else? There were several stores, and it was all a blur: one store after another, each selection stopping at size 10. We moved on.

T.J.Maxx, Ross, Lane Bryant just for fun. Admittedly, Lane Bryant had attractive shoes in my size, but because of the crossed toe, I cannot wear a deep cut shoe. There has to be a generous amount of toe covering for me to be able to wear it. We moved on.

Do you get now, why I keep my shoes forever?

We went home unsuccessful. Marjorie was undaunted – she is the Shopping Queen, after all. I… was along for the adventure. Could my feet defeat and unseat the Queen?

The next day – Sunday, we set out again, as early as possible. By 11:00AM we were at Bon Ton, no luck. Although there were cute shoes there, none fit the bill. On to the Outlet mall, 5 towns